Come, Josephine

Chapter 2

1927

   Mamma started about collecting all of our belongs from our little house. First, she dragged out the two large duffle bags from beneath our beds and we began pulling every item of clothing out of our draws and stuffing them inside the bags. We didn't own much, due to her low wage, meaning all we truly owned each were a handful of dresses, nightwear, and our winter coats. There were books too - not many, but a small amount of worn, paperback novels. The bags were hardly filled, with the sparse amount of clothing and books. I took the money from the box above the fireplace and the small basket filled with food from the kitchen and we were almost ready to flee.
I waited on the landing for mamma to join me. She still sat in her bedroom , prying the floorboards up one by one. I didn't understand why, not then, but my heart ached as I watched her tear the room apart. 
   Suddenly, she retrieved a small, wooden box from a nook. The box itself looked as old as myself and it was nailed shut with one, rusted nail. She thrust it into her own bag and buried it beneath her coat.
   "Mamma? What is that?"
   She shook her head silently, violently, and turned to face me fully as she got to her feet.
   She handed me something out of her bag - a thin, linen scarf. She revealed her own and wrapped it over her head, covering the red bun fastened at the nape of her neck.
   She turned back to me, and gave a small, shaky smile as she helped me with mine, "I don't want him to recognise us, and even though your hair is blonde, I want to be certain."
   We rushed down the stairs and out of the front door desperate to leave. She sorted through a bunch of keys and begins locking up the house.
   I looked back into our home with a pang of sadness; the beds could not be unmade and our furniture would have to be left behind. Our lives, that we had built there, were gone forever. For a moment, I doubted everything.
   "Darling, we have to go right now," she grabbed my arm, and started down the street, "I know that man, and if he's here, it's not good."
   We took off running, our bags over our shoulders and her hand on my elbow. The local taxi driver would take us to the train station in Los Angeles, where we would decide where to go next.
    By the time we had run the several blocks to the taxis, Mamma and I were panting. She looked at me hard, for a second, before arranging our taxi fare.
   Before long, we were in the car, being driving to the nearest train station. Mamma paid as soon as we arrived, and we ran from there, desperate to make our way to the nearest train station.
   She dashed towards the ticket office, "'scuse me!" She stuttered breathlessly, "we need to get to Wisconsin. How do we get there?"
   I couldn't quite hear what the man said as he turned to mamma, "there are no direct route, Ma'am. You can travel directly to Minneapolis, but you will have to get a taxi from the station. That's as far as this line goes."
   She nodded and payed quickly, receiving a ticket for the next train at 6:00PM. It was only half an hour until then, so we sat on the edge of the tracks, anxious to make a quick exit from the state. At last, I turned to mamma and asked her the dreaded question that had been playing over in my mind for the last hour.
   "Mamma," I started, "why didn't you tell me about him?"
   "Josie, I couldn't let you know about him without admitting to my past. I was afraid to tell you in case you worried, or it upset you," she frowns at her lap, "I now realise that it wasn't the right choice to hide that from you. I'm so sorry."
   I recoiled at the sorrow that lined get eyes, the rims silver. That was when I leaned over and hugged my mother. I felt guilty once more, I had somehow made her feel terrible through nosing about, and my heart ached for her and my father I had never met. I shut me eyes, sealing out the bustle around us, and let myself imagine that he had survived.
   I knew he would be protective of me and mamma, as he had protected her while she tried to escape Caledon Hockley. I imagined he would be the kind of father to lift me up above his head when I was little, or draw pictures with. I knew he had blonde hair, and my eyes that were supposedly identical to his so they must have been ice-blue. I could imagine him, tall and handsome, walking with us into town or to the beach. Even then, I missed him. I missed a man I would never know, and it ripped me apart.
Time raced past and soon the train had pulled in to the station. We boarded quickly along with the other passengers, eager to escape our fate.
We found a pair of seats near the back of the train and settled in for the two-day journey. We undid our hair and let it fall free and loose, the way we always preferred it. It would be hours before we were on solid ground and my mind swam. Knowing what I did about my mother's past, I was sure she had traveled on a train before - perhaps for longer than two days.
   Time passed painfully slowly, and before long it was dark. Mamma stayed awake for almost the entire night, stiff and afraid of what might be to come.
   I rested with my head on her lap and draped one of our winter coats over me to make some semblance of a bed. I slept somewhat soundly despite the  cacophony around me.
   In the morning, Mamma took her time time sleep and I promised her that I would keep watch, although I didn't know from what.
   Midday rolled around and we ate some of the food we had. It wasn't much - a few chunks of bread, some cheese and a few apples.
   The day blended into the next.
   And the next.
   Then, as we pulled into the station and disembarked the train, we finally felt safe.