Orphan Train: The Novel. By me. Age 11.

As I mentioned in this post – the television movie Orphan Train, from 1979 – starring Jill Eikenberry – was one of those moments, as a kid, where I went into a fever of obsession. A fever, I tell you! I was burning up! This of course was before the days of VCR (at least my family didn’t have one) and rentals of movies – so I was reliant on TV Guide to tell me what was coming up. I pored over the weekly television listings, keeping my eye out for Orphan Train. The agony of having to wait!! And who knows when it would be on again?

And so I basically couldn’t wait. So, based on my memory of the movie, I wrote it up in novel-form. I love that I included a copyright page and publisher information. It was apparently published by a little-known publisher called “Sheila University Press”. I was 11 years old when I wrote this.

I forgot about it for years. I always remembered Orphan Train, but I forgot that I had written it up as a book. From memory. I fleshed out conversations, I went scene to scene … it was my way of expressing my obsession. If I had had a blog then, I would have been doing posts like crazy on Orphan Train.

The “manuscript” was lost for many years, but I didn’t even know it was lost.

And 3 or 4 years ago, my parents were at home and a knock came on the door. My mother opened the door, and there stood J. – one of my best friends from childhood and high school. I had not seen her in years. She was home for the weekend, and was cleaning stuff out of the attic – and she found my bound manuscript of Orphan Train and wanted me to have it. Amazing, right? My mother sent it to me and when I opened it up – my whole life flashed before my eyes. I had forgotten about it entirely. I hadn’t missed it, or yearned for it, or wondered Where the hell did it go? But suddenly it was there, in my hands – a bound copy of my “novel” – a bright yellow cover – with my crazy doodles all over it. And I had written the thing out on looseleaf paper and then somehow clamped it down into this folder-like apparatus. My novel. What the hell??

I sat down and read the whole thing, laughing out loud at times, at times welling up with tears over my childish passion and fearlessness, guffawing at some of my word choices … and then there were a couple of moments, I admit, when a phrase came up, or the way I finished a scene, where I thought, “You know what? That’s not half bad.”

So. Here is Chapter 1 of my novel. Orphan Train. Written by me at age 11.

Preface

In 1845 orphans roamed the street of New York City freely. Few of them had homes and those that did, sometimes they couldn’t even get enough food to support them. This story is fictitious but based on real life as it was in 1845.

Chapter 1

“Tony,” Ben Papinni wailed, making his short legs move very fast to catch up with his 11-year-old brother. “Wait up.”

Tony sighed and stopped in front of a low crumbling wall.

Ben clutched the small wooden cage in his hand and ran up to his brother. He gazed up at him with wide eyes.

“Come on over here. There are some big ones over here as I ‘member.” Tony led his brother through the old, brick building and all of the rubble to a small hall and into a small musty room.

“Over here. They’re over here and we’d better hurry.” Tony knelt on the ground and took the cage from Ben.

He placed it in a small hole in the wall. Ben kneeled beside Tony and watched him eagerly.

“Now be quiet, Ben. They’ll be comin’ soon.”

“They” were big rats who lurked in the building. Ben and Tony Pappini caught them and sold them to a man who was a cheapskate and hated kids, but nevertheless it did bring money to buy food. Tony would not go to the town soup kitchen. He considered people who went there babies and they gave up easily. Tony would not give up. The only time he ever allowed the two of them to go and get the small portion of gruel was when they were absolutely desperate for food. Ben, even though he was small for his age of 5, had a stomach like a balloon and it would hold quite a bit of food. But Ben admired his brother and always was loyal to Tony, so somehow he survived.

Clap! The cage door shut and Tony brought it out. There were two big black rats in it.

Tony smiled. “They’re goodies. Mr. Johnson will give us seven cents for ’em. He promised. C’mon, Ben.”

Tony and Ben got up and departed through a window onto the dirty cobblestone street.

A young boy in ragged clothes walked down the street yelling, “Papers! Get your papers!” He was waving newspapers in the air. His cap was placed firmly on his head and his knickers were ragged and dirty.

Tony sighed. Everything these days was so ugly and dirty. There were no real orphanages then and no one in New York seemed to care about all the poor, helpless children. They were looked upon practically like animals! Grown men would hit a kid without any hesitation and not feel sorry. Tony had heard that it was better out West. There had been some talk of herding all of the orphans out West to find them families, but not many people believed it. Practically all the folks considered the orphans trash and no one in their right minds would want them. Some orphans were bad but not all of them.

“C’mon, Ben. We gotta hurty,” Tony said.

Ben sighed. Sometimes Tony was very impatient.

Finally they arrived at the rat place. It was rather a disgusting business. Partly because the rats were disgusting. They were big and black and gross. At least that was Ben and Tony’s opinion.

After they had handed in their rats, Mr. Johnson gave them the money.

Tony stared at the coins in his dirty palm. “That’s only three cents! You promised us seven!”

Mr. Johnson was angry. “It’s money, ain’t it? Now git out.”

“But …” Tony protested.

“Get out!” He gave Tony a hard push and Tony and Ben ran out.

“What’re we gonna do?” Ben asked Tony.

Tony shrugged and tried to hide his despair from Ben. “We’ll find somethin’ for three cents.”

Ben sighed. “I donno, Tony.”

They turned a corner and walked down a damp, dark alley with a putrid odor. They did not notice the tall, dirty boy hiding behind a barrel.

As they passed he jumped out and grabbed Ben by the collar and shook him.

“Hey!” Tony yelled. “Put him down!”

“Not until you give me your money,” the boy growled.

Tony glanced at the three cents in his hand. “But this is all I’ve got.”

“I don’t care. Give it.”

Tony had no choice. He sadly placed the meagre amount of money in the boy’s hand. The boy violently dropped Ben and, with much swagger, slouched down the alley.

“Now what’re we gonna do?” Ben said, almost on the verge of tears, but he would never have cried in front of Tony.

Tony sighed. He knew they would have to go to the soup kitchen. He didn’t want to admit to Ben though that they would have to give up.

Ben was studying Tony’s face and he noticed the worried lines around his eyes. “It’s o.k., Tony. You don’t have to tell me. I know where we’re goin’. Come on.”

Tony was grateful to his brother to save him from saying they had given up.

They started off for the kitchen. When they were there they fell in line with the many other orphans there. The paper boy was there too. When Tony’s turn in line came he got his soup as fast as possible and hurried off to a table.

When Ben came up to the counter he held up his bowl. The pretty woman behind the counter smiled down at him.

“Well, Ben. It’s nice to see you here. You don’t usually come,” she said, and scooped an extra large portion of gruel for his bowl, for he looked especially thin.

Ben brought his bowl over to Tony’s table and sat down. Soon he was gulfing down the warm soup.

As the lady behind the counter kept pouring soup into children’s bowls she remarked to the man who was helping her, “Where do they all come from?”

The man shrugged. “Beats me. Poor things. That girl over there can’t even walk right.”

The woman looked with sympathy at the little girl. “I hope that that story about the train carrying all of the orphans West comes true. Whenever I look at their little faces I —”

She was interrupted by a dirty ragged boy bursting into the kitchen excitedly. He yelled, “David Smithson’s gittin’ hanged down in ‘a gallows!”

All of the orphans made a mad rush for the door and burst out into the street. Child after child rushing past the counter, dropping their bowls and spoons and pouring out into the street. People walking past the kitchen were amazed to all of a sudden see at least 3 dozen ragged, dirty children burst out onto the street and run down the cobblestone sidewalk.

As they ran past the soup counter, Miss Sims (the woman) tried desperately to stop them.

“Please children! Please! Finish your soup and –” she turned to the man. “I’m going to follow them and see what this hanging business is all about.” She hurried out after all of the children.