couldn’t tell them, but she didn’t care. She wanted to hear the music. She could see the piano now and the man playing. His back was to her, but she knew him just the same. She didn’t even know he could play the piano. She reached out to touch his shoulder and called his name.
“Frank.”
Sarah awoke with a start, disoriented and aware that she’d spoken aloud. She needed a moment to remember where she was. Then she quickly sat up and looked around to get her bearings. Amy was moaning softly. Mrs. Walker was sitting exactly where she’d been, and she was looking at Sarah curiously. She probably wondered who Frank was. Sarah had no intention of enlightening her.
“I should check on Amy.” Sarah got up and saw that the girl was awake.
“I think I wet the bed,” she said in alarm.
“Don’t worry. It’s just your water breaking,” Sarah said with relief. “That’s why we put the rubber sheet on the bed. Things should go faster now.”
Mrs. Walker rang for Beulah to change the sheets again, and Sarah helped Amy get up and change her nightdress. The new one was just as impractical as the old one. While they were waiting for Beulah, Sarah realized the piano music from her dream was real. “Who’s that playing the piano?” she asked.
“One of the girls,” Mrs. Walker said quickly. “They have some guests this evening.”
How odd that they’d be entertaining in a place like this. But perhaps family members came to visit the girls. Sarah imagined they would get lonely, being confined here for months.
Beulah arrived and helped Sarah change the sheets again.
“How are things going?” Sarah heard Mrs. Walker ask the cook while she was helping Amy get settled again.
“Just fine. The girls is taking care of everything.”
“If there’s any trouble, come get me.”
“Won’t be no trouble. I’ll see to that. You want some supper now?”
Mrs. Walker said they did, and a few minutes later, Beulah brought up some roast beef with rich gravy, potatoes baked in their skins, apple dumplings, and coffee. The roast beef was remarkably tender. Her neighbor Mrs. Ellsworth would want to speak to the cook about how she’d managed it.
Sarah encouraged Amy to eat, but she said the smell was making her sick, and she didn’t even try.
The piano stopped for a while, then started again. The hours slipped by. Amy walked for a while, then rested and walked some more. Sarah thought she heard voices in the hall, a man and woman laughing, but the sound was probably coming up from downstairs. Sarah thought it odd that the young ladies were permitted to have visitors so late, but Mrs. Walker didn’t seem concerned.
Amy paused and grabbed hold of one of the bedposts as a contraction seized her, and Sarah glanced over at Mrs. Walker. The older woman had finally nodded off. Her chin rested on her chest, and she was snoring softly.
As Amy straightened, Sarah nodded at where Mrs. Walker was dozing in the chair. To Sarah’s surprise, Amy grabbed her arm.
“You have to get me out of here,” she whispered urgently.
“You can’t go anywhere right now,” Sarah said in surprise. “You’re going to have a baby any time.”
“No, no, not now!” she said, her fingers digging painfully into Sarah’s arm and her blue eyes filled with anguish. “After the baby’s born. I have to get out of here! You have to help me.”
Sarah couldn’t understand her distress. “But won’t they let you go home after the baby is born?”
Amy’s eyes widened in surprise. “No, they’ll never let me leave here, not ever. They’ll kill me if I try!”
Amy’s anxious gaze kept darting to Mrs. Walker, checking to make sure she was still asleep. “They’re going to take the baby away and then—” Her words twisted into a cry as an especially strong contraction claimed her, and she doubled over with the pain.
The cry woke Mrs. Walker, who snorted in surprise and jumped to her feet. “What is it?”
“Something’s wrong!” Amy said, her eyes wild with fear.
“Do you feel like you need to bear down?” Sarah asked.
“Yes, yes, that’s it! What’s happening?”
Sarah smiled. “Your baby is coming, that’s what’s happening. It’s time to start pushing. Come on, I’ll show you just what to do.”
Sarah got Amy back into the bed and gave her the necessary instructions. Sarah had fashioned fabric loops attached to the headboard that the girl could hold on to as she bore down. In a few minutes she was laboring in earnest, falling back against the pillows propped against the headboard and gasping between contractions.
“It won’t be long now,” Sarah said, and lifted Amy’s nightdress to check on her progress. “Look, Mrs. Walker, you can see the top of the baby’s head.”
The unflappable Mrs. Walker looked, and all the color drained from her face. Sarah hurried to grab her in case she fainted, but she turned away, both hands clamped over her mouth.
“Are you all right?” Sarah asked.
“Yes, I . . . I just . . . I’ll go and get Beulah. She can help you.” She hurried to the door and in another second she was gone.
“Close the door, quick, before Beulah comes,” Amy whispered. “I have to tell you what to do!”
Sarah hurried to close the door, and Amy was already instructing her before she started back to the bed.
“You have to help me get away from this place. You have to contact Mrs. Van Orner.”
The name was familiar, but Sarah couldn’t place it. “Is she a relative?”
“No, no!” Amy said desperately. Then a contraction started, and she couldn’t talk.
Sarah supported her through it, and as soon as she could speak again, she said, “Mrs. Van Orner helps girls like me. Tell her I want to be rescued. She’ll know what to do.”
“If you want to leave here, I’ll help you,” Sarah said. “As soon as the baby is born, I can take you to my house for a few days and—”
“No, no! You can’t help me. They’d never let you take me. They’d kill you!”
“Who’d kill me?” Sarah asked in confusion, wondering if Amy had lost her senses.
“Jake will. Mrs. Walker will tell him to. They never let any of us leave, and I hate it here! I hate what I have to do, and after they take the baby, they’re going to make me do the most disgusting things!”
“Amy, what are you talking about? What kinds of things do they make you do?”
“With the men,” she gasped, going into another contraction. “With the customers!”
“Is this a brothel?” Sarah asked, feeling incredibly stupid.
“Of course!” Amy panted, falling back against the headboard again. “What did you think?”
“I thought it was a refuge for unwed mothers.”
Amy gave a bark of bitter laughter.
The door opened. Beulah came in and looked around. “Miz Walker said you was about to pop that baby out.”
“Yes, she is,” Sarah said, managing to regain her composure.
“What do you need me to do?”
“You don’t have to do anything,” Sarah said quickly, wondering if she’d be as weak stomached as Mrs. Walker. “And don’t watch if you don’t want to.”
“Ain’t nothing I ain’t seen before,” she said, stepping to the foot of the bed as Sarah checked Amy’s progress again. “Oh, look there. You’ll have that baby out in a couple more tries.”
“Really?” Amy asked desperately.
“Yes, really,” Sarah said. “Push really hard this next time.”
Amy did, and just as Beulah had predicted, she pushed out her son just a few minutes later.
Sarah held him upside down by his ankles and cleared his mouth with her finger. She didn’t even need to slap him. He started screaming bloody murder all on his own. “Listen to that, Amy,” she said. “A healthy boy!” Sarah
