INTRODUCTION

Ms. Carson’s Home For Girls was a dreary tall building just south of Washington and Broome Street. When facing the building it looked like some sort of lonely fortress with tall shade drawn windows and a small candle flicker from the far corner. Ivy slithered across the red brick and continued to wind its way around the house holding the red brick in a vice-like grip with the seemingly harmless green tendrils. A large steel Victorian fence surrounds the stronghold with only one gate at the front. A sign hangs above it in flowing letters reads “Mr’s Carson’s Home for Girls” and a nice padlock hangs on the chain holding it shut. Yes, it was a dreary building, old and locked up, a practical mystery to the outside world.

Inside Ms Carson’s Home For Girls were three girls in particular. Celia, Jo, and Rose. All three had lived there for extended periods of time, living as best friends within the confines.

Celia had dark brown hair and matching eyes. Her tresses fell down her back to her waist, but were tied in a low pony tail with a dark blue ribbon. She had tan skin and even though she had never known her parents she maintained that her mother was a Puerto Rican beauty who danced in the clubs and brought down the house with her amazing voice, a diamond in the rough so to speak. Celia was sure that’s where she got her singing talent. She always said that her father was getting rich in Chicago that she’d find him someday. She was one of the tallest girls at the house standing at 5’ 6”. She was a firey person, always jumping to conclusions and arguing. She was stubborn and demanded the attention of everyone around her, and not just because she was quite pretty, she just had that fire.

Jo on the otherhand had extremely curly bright red hair and an Irish accent. She had more than enough freckles for the entire world and green popping inquisitive eyes. She was short, just a smidge under 5’ and had a round face. Unlike Celia she had known her parents. Her’s were Irish immigrants that died on the way over on the boat, leaving a young Jo on the streets of New York with nothing more than a dollar in her pocket and a doll. She never talks about her parents and never has, instead she’s always had a spunky up beat attitude.

Lastly came Rose, a mild tempered quiet brunette with soft curls resting at her shoulders. She had washed out, stale blue eyes and a soft smile. She was an over achiever at heart, always memorizing her tables and literature. She had near perfect scores at the school and loved being a girl. She loved sewing and grammar and cooking and etiquette. She was a perfectionist in every way with the cleanest bunk and pressed clothes anyone could have. She herself was born into a large family that scraped to get by. Then her father died at the factory in an accident and her mother was forced to work double time. There was no money to take care of the kids so Rose ended up at Ms. Carson’s.

Every day a tall stiff looking woman walked through the house at sunrise, awakening the girls who ranged from 4 to 19 in ages. Once a girl became 20 Ms Carson guaranteed a job at the textile factory across town, she got a pay out from this and a little from each pay check while the girls were there. This woman though, was tall and thin with sharp features and graying hair tied back in an abrupt bun. Her hair pulled her skin back as far as seemed possible to give her some sort of face lift. She was Ms. Carson. “Up girls! Up!” she would say every morning, tapping her riding crop against the wooden bunk beds before ripping open the east facing curtains. Once she was sure they were getting up she would float across the room and out the door on a cloud of superiority.

Rolling out of bed each girl would put on their simple house dresses in earth tones and blacks and then file down the hallway to the stairs where they would either slide down the banister, or take the more traditional method if suspicious of being caught. They would then walk uniformly into the dining hall. Each one would brush their skirts under as they sat down against the high back chairs at the long table. After a few moments for grace they would have a small breakfast with no talking. Exactly one hour after sunrise the girls were on their way to do chores and have a small bit of free time. Then came lunch in the same manner as breakfast and then schooling. Schooling consisted of Mathematics, Literature, Grammar, History, and more “lady like” subjects. These were French, cooking, sewing and etiquette and they were all mandatory. Yes, Ms. Carson would turn out the best girls if it would kill her.

After schooling came supper and then it was off to bed. There was a normal period of free time between supper and lights out which happened promptly at 10pm. If a noise was heard after lights out every girl was reprimanded. Life was repetitive at the house, day in and day out but the girls found ways to amuse themselves…

IT'S JUST VACATION

This day was different. Sure, Ms. Carson floated through the room that morning and rapped her riding crop against the sturdy wooden bunkbeds and ripped open the curtains. Once she was gone each girl slowly rolled out of bed.

“Celia! Rise and shine sleepy head.” Rose smiled as she shook her friend who pushed her away. “well now, if you’re going to be so stubborn about it…” she huffed off towards the powder room with a swish of her skirts, brushing by Jo who was staring out the window.

Finally the Latino girl rotated in her bed and sighed as Rose returned into the room. Rose was in a rush that morning, walking to her bunk that was across from Celia’s and making it in a hurry. Celia slowly rose up onto her elbows “Hey rose…” She rubbed the sleep from her eye as she talked doggedly. “Rose… HEY! ROSE!”

The other brunette turned. “You don’t have to yell. I’m right here.”

“Come here…” Celia motioned, still half asleep. Rose quirked her eyebrow and stayed put not seeing why she would need to be closer to Celia. “C’mere….” A second later the blue eyed perfectionist took a step forward to meet Celia’s request. The still half sleep girl pointed at Jo. “What’s wrong with Jo?”

Rose shrugged. “Why not ask Jo herself?” She paused and handed her friend a skirt and a shirt. “Get dressed while you’re at it too.”

Celia scowled and pulled her shirt on over her underwear that was her pajamas. She hopped down off the bed and hopped over to Jo on one foot as she slipped her skirt on. “What’s eating you?”

Jo shrugged, still staring out the window. “Have you ever stared out the window?”

“Yeah… I guess….” Celia shrugged, picking up a brush that was sitting on the sill and pulling it through her hair.

Jo sighed, “Have you ever wondered what goes on outside the fence?” She asked quietly.

Celia was slightly taken back, she was wondering where the bouncy, happy, WHOO HOO Jo was this morning. “Well, yeah, Thought about leaving once too. But then I saw this kid sleeping in an alley, on the way to church, all grimy and such.” She shuddered, and forced the brush through a tangle.

Jo pointed out the window and let her finger slide down the pane. “But look at the kids, playing in the street with other kids… boys, girls, doesn’t matter… haven’t you ever wanted to do that?”

“Being cooped up here isn’t my idea of fun.” Celia shook her head and then handed the brush to her friend.

“Wanna do it? Get out for a night? It’ll be three years before we’re free, so just one night? Be back before morning, I promise!” Jo spat out quickly, staring down at the floor.

Celia raised an eyebrow. “What… like… Escape?”

Jo looked up and bit her lip. “Well… no… it isn’t an escape… just… a vacation.” Jo said picking up a dress from her near by bunk and slipping it on. It was black and green with a little bit of dark lace.

“Hey, let’s get going, can’t be late, we have a French exam today.” She smiled at her two best friends, oblivious to the conversation that just took place.

Jo smiled, truly smiled, for the first time that morning. “Lets.”

THE CRIME

Celia speedily cleared the floor with her broom in nervous, quick, but fluid strokes. She brushed herself over toward where Jo was dusting the old desk in the French room. “Lets do it.” She simply said with a smile that was returned with the now sparkling, mischievous eyes of Jo.

***

Jo slipped out of her bunk, glancing around herself quickly before leaning over to poke Celia in the side. Celia sat up quickly, making the mattress squeak. “Shhh.” Jo warned, placing her finger to her lips.

Celia nodded in the dark, though Jo could barely see her. Jo took the taller girl’s hand and helped her silently out of bed. They both wore the darkest clothing they owned, Celia’s being black and Jo’s being a forest green color. They each bent to the ground and picked up their shoes, as not to make a sound as they walked. And then they did. They tiptoed slowly towards the door.

A figure suddenly blocked the faint light that came under the door. The two girls’ eyes widened and the froze until a hushed irritated whisper of a voice asked, “What are you DOING?”

“Shhh! Rose…” Celia whispered. “Would you keep it down?” She hissed.

“Tell me where you’re going first.” Rose replied in the same heightened tone as before.

“We’re leaving for the night.” Jo murmured.

“Then you’re taking me with you.” Rose put her hands on her hips. “The good lord knows you can’t take care of yourself.”

Celia sighed, “fine. Just be quiet.”

The three girls then slunk towards the door, Rose reaching it first. She creaked it open and tiptoed out into the open. The other two followed in the same fashion sticking to the far wall. The only light visible was from the dim candles on the floor below. They scurried in quick silent steps along the edge and they slowed to a stop as they heard voices and footsteps below.

“Bills, bills, bills!” the distinct high pitched, sophisticated, but stressed voice of Ms. Carson stated in an annoyed tone.

Jo motioned for her friends to stay put while she inched toward the railing.

“JO!” rose exclaimed in a whisper, only to receive a whack from Celia there after. “jo…” she said more hushed the second time “get back here, we’ll get caught!”

Jo waved a hand behind her to shush Rose as she crouched to cross the last two or three feet. She leaned her forehead against the pillars of the rail.

She saw below her the old gatekeeper clutching his hat in front of his chest as he rocked nervously from foot to foot. His name was Krebbs, or Mr. Krebbs, but the girls usually referred to him as Old Mr. K. He was in charge of keeping the outside of the house decent and well trimmed, as well as maintenance and the gate. He was a musty short old round bald man and he looked uncomfortable in his situation.

Ms. Carson was out of Jo’s view, but she quickly came back in with her back to the stairs. She held a few envelopes in her hand and she used a letter opener to slit the first one open. If Jo could have seen the woman’s face as she read she would have seen it go paler. “Oh my…” The woman breathed, placing a long slender hand to her chest and dropping all of the envelopes in her other hand as well as the letter opener to the floor.

“Charlotte? Are you alright?” the meek old man stepped forward hesitantly and when Ms. Carson looked a bit fainter he crossed the distance in a second and placed an arm over her shoulder. “Lets get you some water.” He then held her hand as he ushered her to the next room.

Jo drew back from the rail, a little unnerved at the situation. She then quickly waved for her friends to move. Quick, quick, slow, quick, quick slow. That was the rhythm of their steps as they descended the stairs. They looked suspiciously from side to side as they tiptoed across the large entry hall. Celia slid open the door and all three slipped through, Rose being last she clicked it shut as quietly as she possible could. Then in a burst of giggles all three bolted for the gate.

“I cannot believe we just did that!” Rose squealed when they were ¾ of the way to the gate.

Celia was already there. “We aren’t out yet.” She grumbled, pulling a bobby pin from her hair and slipping it into the lock. The other two looked on in anticipation, and Jo licked her lips as she watched Celia work her magic.

ENCOUNTERS OF THE FIRST KIND

Click! The sound of the hairpin turning in the lock and the pleasant opening resounded in the air as the three girls rushed through the gates, only to whoop and hollar once the lock was replaced.

“That was awesome!” Jo exclaimed, running high on adrenaline as she skipped a little down the street, her two friends followed and they slowed to a stop when they felt safe from the house. Jo turned to face her friends. “Alright, where to?” she glanced between the two.

“Don’t look at me, this was your guys’ idea.” Rose held her hands in protest.

“Correction, it was Jo’s idea.” Celia pointed out, placing her hands on her hips. The group started to move forward slowly with Jo hop-skipping backwards in front of them along the street.

“Alright, we’ll go where our feet take us!” Jo suggested.

Celia and rose looked at each other apprehensively. “uhh… No.” They chorused.

“You guys are no fun.” Jo chortled with a bright smile that suddenly disappeared as she collided almost back-to-back with a boy coming down the perpendicular Willie Street. It caused her to stumble and evidently fall to the ground. Her company burst into laughter as she did herself as she rolled on the cobblestone.

The slightly confused blonde boy spun around looking in all the wrong places for the person he had run into as his own company burst into laughter. He glanced down finally and saw Jo laying in the street. He offered a hand, “You okay?” he asked.

The redhead accepted his hand and brought herself to her feet. “Fine, I’m fine.” She replied, assessing her attacker. He was tall, taller than Celia who was the tallest teen she had ever met. He had snow blonde hair and glasses that rested low on his nose. He wore a backwards gray cap and an open rustic orange shirt, rolled to the elbows that revealed a graying undershirt. His suspenders hung low around his knees away from his brown pants and he had a bright smile.

“Good.” He said with a wink, “Can’t have it goin’ round that I hurt goils, now can I?” he replied in his thick New York accent.

“Guess not.” She replied as his curly haired companion approached. The boy put a hand on the blonde’s shoulder,

“C’mon, we’ll be late.” He said flicking his head in the direction they were going.

Jo waved for no apparent reason as Celia laughed quietly, “Let’s go, the night awaits us.” She linked arms with her friends and they started down Broome Street.

to be continued....

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