Bridgett 2

Bridgett and Marion rushed from their tenement apartment to the Favor Candy Factory, a two mile walk away. The wind blustered and chilled them both to their bones. The clouds were grey, a sure sign there would be snow. That meant a hard walk home later.

“Stop borrowing trouble!” Bridgett thought.

She gave Marion both pieces of bread and encouraged her little sister to finish eating quickly. Mr. Ginn, the factoy supervisor was a bitter, little man who loved to find any excuse to pick on his juevenile workers.

Accept for Mrs. Harvey, his secretary, there was not a one of the workers over 14. Bridgett was 12 and Marion was 10 and Mr. Ginn took special pleasure in taunting Marion to try to get Bridgett to lose her temper. When that happened, as it had before, Mr. Ginn had his excuse to use his crop on Bridgett's back.

They hurried into the building before 7:00am and punched their cards. Then positioned themselves at the assigned stations as their day began. They would get a 15 minute break to stretch and use the facilities at Mr. Ginn's descretion. They would clock out at 7:00pm if there were no rush orders.

As the day proceeded, Bridgett kept her eyes focused on candy cutting. Earlier in the week a 14 year old girl, Frances, had lost her hand when she failed to keep close eye as the machine blade came down. She had been fired on the spot and sent home with a rag around her stub. Francis wasn’t the first worker to be terribly injured since the Joyce girls had begun working here. But Francis wasn’t working in front of Bridgett when the accident happened and Bridgett’s mind kept replaying it every time the razor sharp blade dropped.

Finally, after eight hours, Mr. Ginn told Bridgett to take a break. Her legs, at first, refused to move after remaining locked in the same spot for so long. But with the time of her break ticking away, she pushed her leg out, balanced, and began to move. She reached the outhouse. Relieved she hurried back not wanting to be late and face Mr. Ginn but when she walked in she immediately saw the impending danger.

The large pot boiling the candy was being stirred by a rail-thin boy, named Jim. A lantern sat next to him on a table. As the boy continued to stir, Mr. Ginn started yelling and waving. Jim looked up and saw the chain giving way too late. Horror covered his face but it was too late to react. The pot crashed down and tipped toward the boy and the lantern. Jim was screaming as the hot liquid poured over him. The lantern broke and flames leaped to the boiling candy, spreading quickly.

Bridgett turned toward her sister, standing too close to the approaching flames. Marion's face was frozen on Jim and the chaos.

Bridgett looked for Mr. Ginn. He was moving toward the front door that was always locked the after the starting bell rang, discouraging anyone leaving without his permission. Ahead of him were so many children, everyone was screaming and pushing against one another and the door.

Bridgett gathered her wits realizing that exit would not save them. She came up with a plan. She sprinted to her sister grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the back exit where the outhouse was. A fence surrounded the yard but Bridgett had noticed a rotting board. She kicked at the board and it fell away. Both sisters climbed through the fence as the smoke grew thicker around them.

At first they joined the crowd around the front of the factory but when the fire team arrived, and pushed back the crowd so they could focus on rescue and fighting the fire, the girls were tossed in the mayhem of the crowd. Bridgett felt Marion’s hand slipping. The smoke covered the street and Marion was coughing too much so Bridgett pulled her away just as evening fell on the Chicago streets.

The smoke caused them both to be confused about the path home. Bridgett led them away from the fire and the smoke.

“Catch your breath, Marion.” Marion began to take deep breaths. Bridgett stopped to look around but saw no landmarks. They had never walked anywhere else in the city in the year they had worked at the factory.

It did not take long for Bridgett to realize she and her sister were lost in Chicago and the sun was going down. Now fear shook her along with the cold. She began to look for a place to hide them through the frigid night. Men glared at them as they walked by. Bridgette held Marion tight and began to run.

“I am calling out again God. We need help!”, she cast her prayer to the heavens in desperation.

Then she spied an alley up ahead and took it. As she did, she looked back to make sure none of the loitering men were watching. They weren’t, so she hurried down into the shadows.

Bridgett found a back door that looked as if it had not been opened in years. Cobwebs covered the entry and trash was piled up against the door.

“This will have to do.” She decided.

Bridgett, reluctantly, brushed away the webs and stomped their occupants. She cleared away trash to form a small place for both to sit. Then she pulled a newspaper from the trash heap and began crushing up pieces into balls. She told her sister to put these balls in her pants and shirt as the temperature dropped. When Bridgett had done all she could to try to keep them insulated against the night, she reached into the trash and pulled out a half eaten apple and gave it to her sister. Her own stomach grumbled, reminding her she had not eaten today. But Marion wasn’t weaker and Bridgett was the oldest. She had to keep her promise to Momma. She would make sure her sister was taken care of the best Bridgett knew how.

Finally they both curled up around each other and waited for the night to pass. Bridgett watched the darkness as she felt her little sister’s breathing relax. Marion slept.

Her stomach ached without food and she was frightened. The wind whipped through the alley as frost settled around them. Every sound brought the thought of another threat. Bridgette was so afraid! She would not sleep tonight.

As she watched, a memory of Momma came to her mind. “Bridgett, what are you afraid of?”

“I’m afraid I will drown Momma!”

Bridgett’s Momma had taken her to the pond to learn to swim.

“Bridgett, do you trust me? Don’t you know I won’t let anything harm you?”

Bridgett shook her head, but held tightly to her Momma’s dress.

“Bridgett, it’s not just me you can trust. God loves you even more than I do and He will not let you drown. He didn’t give you that fear you are feeling. He gave you power, and love, and a sound mind. Even when we get in the water, I’ll be there and He will be too.”

Bridgett looked at her Momma. She knew Momma told the truth. So she let go and she learned to swim that day. Bridgett was five but that memory was still crystal clear.

Bridgett spoke to herself, “I haven’t been given a spirit of fear but power and love and a sound mind.”

She remembered the idea to go out the back, and that she remembered Poppa telling her about newspaper keeping him warm during the cold nights in the war. And she knew how much she loved Marion and Hazel.

Bridgett called out to God once more, "God I still don't know if you are real, if you are, you let my mother die and now we are in such danger. But if you are helping me, if you sent me that dream last night, I am asking you please, rescue us. Rescue us now!"

As she said this, she heard a sound, and her heart skipped a beat, and fear crashed into her once again. A man stepped into view. She backed away, pulling her sister in back of her as she pressed against the door. Marion woke up. Bridgett could hear her crying.

The man held out his palm, "Wait!" as he realized they were preparing to bolt. "I was sent to help!"

Bridgett stopped when she heard that. Did God hear her? She put herself between the man and her sister, and with her stance spread out and her hands on her hips, she demanded, "Who are you? Who sent you?"

"I was sent by your Uncle Charles Forrestor. I am a Pinkerton agent. My name is John Stewart. You wrote him a letter. I have it with me. You told him about your mother, his sister. He has had my company looking for you since he recieved that letter, more than a year ago. We finally discovered after your Father remarried, he sold the farm to your neighbor and came to Chicago looking for work. I followed you for the last two weeks attempting to assess your living conditions and report back to Mr. Forrester. Today, via telegram, he authorized me to bring you and your sister to him, if you agree. I went to the factory at 5:00 to talk to you but I discovered the fire. I caught glimpses of you in the crowd and attempted to follow you but I lost you in the confusion when you slipped into this alley. It took me some time to find you." When John finished speaking, he took a breath and he waited.

Bridgett tried to think. Had she written Uncle Charlie? Yes, but it was right after her Momma had died and that was a lifetime ago for Bridgett. She glared at John but then she softened. What choice did they have? She knew, even if they found the apartment, a place that never felt like a home, her stepmother would beat her and make her and Marion find another job quickly or put them out on the street. Her Father seemed helpless to stop the abuse.

“What about our little sister Hazel? We can’t leave her behind. And what will Poppa say?”, tears filled her eyes now.

But then Bridgette remembered that her stepmother did love Hazel. She would be safe. She also remembered little Jim; his fear and pain as the fire took him. She had to keep Marion safe. This was their only chance.

"We will go with you. I hope I can trust you." Bridgett whispered the last.

John did not come closer. He could see the fear in both girls' eyes. “You can.”, he said then just turned and motioned, "Follow me."