The Lilac Tunnel: My Journey with Samantha

I smile at Hawkins and reach over to give Samantha a hug. I thank her for wanting me to stay. But I think it’s time for me to go meet my new family. Samantha opens her mouth to protest, then closes it again. She nods sadly. Elsa bustles into the kitchen and says that she’s drawn a bath for me. I give Samantha a reassuring glance and follow Elsa down the hall.

Upstairs, Elsa helps me take off the scratchy gray dress and step into the warm water. She takes the dress away to press it so I will be presentable for the train. I think it’s her way of being nice, now that she’s not burdened with making a good servant out of me. I want to tell her that it’s okay, that she tried her best with me. A city girl like me from the 21st century isn’t cut out for the work of a servant girl of long ago.

An hour later, after a sad goodbye with Samantha, I’m standing at the station with Elsa. Nerves rattle my stomach, as if I really am an orphaned girl about to hop on a train in search of a family. When a tall brunette woman in a black dress approaches, I shrink back. This must be the woman from the orphanage. Elsa pulls me forward by the sleeve of my scratchy dress and introduces Mrs. Davis. Two young children are trailing her, and they look as scared as I feel. The younger of the two is a blonde-haired boy, who looks at me with gray eyes. I feel so sad for him that I have to look away.

Just then, someone taps my shoulder and I turn to see Samantha. She’s holding basket of gingerbread from Mrs. Hawkins. Then the train pulls into the station and I have to say goodbye to Samantha all over again. She pulls me into a fierce hug. I tell her I will be okay, and she says she knows. But her eyes are clouded with doubt. She gives me another hug. Elsa almost hugs me, too, but seems to think better of it. She pats my arm awkwardly and hurries me up to the steps of the train.

After I’ve boarded the train, Mrs. Davis offers me a thin cardboard suitcase to hold my bundle of clothing: my capris, t-shirt, and tennis shoes. The other two children have the same kind of suitcase. What would that be like? Trying to fit everything you owned into a small box? I find an empty seat next to the little blonde-haired boy. He turns away from me shyly, but glances back, noticing my basket. He must smell the food. I offer him a thick piece of gingerbread. When the boy bites into the gingerbread, his face eases into a smile. Maybe it reminds him of a home he once knew. I reach for my locket, wondering how I’m going to get back to my own home now that I’m sitting next to this boy. I fumble around my neck, feeling for my necklace. Where is it?

And then it hits me. I took the necklace off before my bath. And I never put it back on!