Orphan Train. The Novel. By me. Age 11. – Chapter 4

Have had a long couple of days with 2 extremely late nights in a row. Yet I still woke up “on time” today and spent 6 hours writing and editing until I reached the saturation point. My back hurts. My brain hurts. And so now, to take a break from the writing I am doing NOW, let’s go back to the writing I was doing THEN and read “Chapter 4” of my novelization of the TV movie Orphan Train, written when I was 11 years old.

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6

Chapter 4

The next day Sarah did run away but she wasn’t really any happier. It was hard to find food and she didn’t have anyone to hang around with.

She finally became acquainted with the paper boy mentioned before. He called himself J.P. He never told her what “J.P.” stood for.

But many times J.P. was alone. He didn’t see Sarah because he was busy with his papers. J.P.’s mother was an actress and most of the time she was gone on tour with the mean husband who hated J.P. J.P. was not allowed to go on tour with his mother so he was treated like an orphan on the street. He wore ragged clothes and all.

“Sarah, I gotto’ go, ok?” J.P. inquired one day.

Sarah nodded and walked down the street, holding her shawl close around her thin shoulders.

J.P. ran all the way home to the apartment where his mother was staying. He walked up the 2 flights of stairs, his heavy Oxfords making a “Clomp-clomp” sound in the dingy halls.

Finally, J.P. arrived at the door which was his. He rapped on the door.

The door was opened to reveal a tall lanky man with thin lips and a thin mustache. He frowned when he saw J.P. “Well?” he yelled. “What do you want.”

Then a woman’s voice called out from within the apartment. “Ease up, Mark! C’mon in sweety!”

J.P. walked past Mark and into the apartment. It was set up rather like an actor’s dressing room. There were clothes and scarves strewn about the room. There was also a lit-up mirror and a woman (J.P.’s mother) was sitting in front of it.

When she saw J.P. in the mirror she turned with a lovely smile on her face. “Hi, honey! How’d you make out today?”

J.P. put his lips together and nodded. He set the pile of papers that was under his arm on a chair.

Then J.P.’s mother’s face grew serious. “Honey, work for an actor is hard today. ‘Specially for women. Your father is gonna try and fit me in his balloon act. It ain’t much money, but it’s a start. And I hate you dressin’ up like a boy.” She threw off J.P.’s cap to show that J.P. really had slightly curled hair. J.P. wasn’t a boy! She was a girl dressing up like a boy! Surprise, surprise!

“I’m sorry, momma but no one will buy papers from a girl.” J.P. protested.

“Honey, I got somethin’ to tell you. Your daddy’s act is goin’ on tour around New England and all the states. I’m goin’ with ‘im because I’m gonna be fit in his act. And – well – children aren’t allowed to go on tour and -” She stopped and J.P. just discovered what was going to be said.

“I’m sorry, honey,” J.P.’s mother went on sadly. “I wish you could come but it wouldn’t work. Do you think you’ll be able to get along on your own?”

J.P. set her lips tight and bravely picked up her papers. “It’s okay, momma. I got my papers.”

J.P.’s mother looked at her brave face and saw that she was fiercely holding back the tears. Tears quickly came to her eyes and she hugged J.P. hard.

“Oh, honey! You’ll never make out!” she cried and let J.P. go.

J.P. looked up at her mother. “Yes, I can, momma. I’m almost 11.” She picked up her hat and tucked all her hair up and placed it on her head.

“Good-bye, J.P.!” J.P.’s mother called as J.P. sadly walked away.

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Later on that afternoon J.P. felt very down. Her mother had left her, just deserted her! No one had bought any papers and she couldn’t find Sarah anywhere.

To make herself feel better she quietly slipped into the church to listen to the singing.

Miss Sims was playing the piano and all of the orphans who wanted to were singing “Count Your Blessings.” Miss Sims also was singing in a fluttery voice.

J.P. sat down in the last pew and thought as the singing went on. “Count my blessings? What blessings?” Two large tears welled up in her eyes but she hastily wiped them away.