The Lilac Tunnel: My Journey with Samantha

After watching Mary work for a while, I’m starting to sweat. It’s hot in the knitting room, and my legs and feet are getting sore from standing. I ask if I can get a drink of water. She shakes her head and says no breaks until lunchtime. She must feel sorry for me though, because she asks if I want to try winding the yarn. She passes the yarn over to me, and immediately it breaks. The winding machine grinds to a halt. I glance up and see the other girls in the room glaring at me. Mary makes a knot to tie the yarn back together and a tiny dark-haired girl who can’t be more than six or seven starts the machine up again.

Mary doesn’t offer me the yarn again, and I’m relieved. But it’s getting hard to breathe in the stuffy room, and I can hear a few girls coughing. There’s a window on the far wall, but it’s sealed shut.

When I feel like I can’t stand the heat any longer, I step away from the table and tell her I really need a break. Her brown eyes are wide and she says that I can’t. If I stop working, I’ll lose my pay. But I don’t care about my pay. I just need some air. I hurry to the door, but when I turn the knob, it’s locked. Why would the foreman lock us in here? To make sure we don’t take breaks? Now I want to get out more than ever. I start to panic, knocking loudly on the door, ignoring the horrified stairs of the girls around me. When the foreman finally opens the door, the thunderous look on his face makes my knees weak.

The foreman leans forward, his angry face inches from mine, and demands to know what I want. I can’t speak. He orders me back into the room with a scowl and a pointed finger. The door slams shut and I hear the click of the lock. My heart throbs in my chest and I try to think. It’s time for me to go. But I have to get a message to Samantha first.

I fumble in my pocket for the note she left me this morning, and I rush to Mary’s table, searching for something to write with. I find a pencil stub resting by a measuring tape. I feel Mary’s eyes on me as I scroll a message on the back of the note. It reads:

I seal the letter and write Samantha Parkington on the front. Then I glance to the door, making sure the foreman is gone. I don’t want to get Mary into trouble, but I need her help. I tell Mary she must find a way to get this letter to Samantha Parkington. It’s very important. Mary furrows her brow, her eyes flickering toward the door. Finally, Mary nods. I thank her, setting the letter down beside her. I don’t know if the letter will make it to Samantha, but I do know that I need to leave this room.

I want to open the locket and just disappear, but I can’t do that in front of the girls. So instead, I take a deep breath of courage and step toward the locked door. I raise my fist and pound as loudly as I can. It’s only seconds before the foreman answers, and he looks like he’s about to explode with rage. Before he can say anything though, I yell that I quit. As soon as I feel the rush of cool air outside, I reach for my locket and snap it open. I’m dizzy for a moment, and then I’m back in my own room. In the silence of the room, I realize my ears are ringing. The clunks and whirs of the winding machines are gone, but my ears don’t know it yet.

I’m wearing my shirt and capris again. The scratchy dress is gone. As I sink down onto my bed, I say a private thank you to the universe that I’m not an orphan in Samantha’s time. I can go home, to a world where I don’t have to work, where I have parents who love me, or I can get an ice-cold glass of water anytime I need one. I can barely open my bedroom door and get to the kitchen fast enough. As I leave my room, I touch the locket and say thank you to Samantha, too, who taught me a lot about trying to help others, and appreciating all I have right now.