Boldly Chapter Two

 Chapter Two

One-Way Ticket

    "What's wrong, Lorna?"

    "Da's still in there! Hurry… help him! Rob… Robbie! Be careful! I…"

    "Lorna! Get out of here! It's too dangerous!"

    "I have t' help Da!"

    "Nae… get back! Get back, Lorna! I've got him!"

    "Da… Robbie! Nae... Lord... please!"

    Lorna came to with a gasp. Her sheets were tousled, drenched with sweat, her pillow lay on the floor. Breathing hard, she raised a hand slowly to her cheek and felt the tears that were sliding slowly down. Would those dreams never stop? Over and over again, no matter how hard she tried to forget… those dreams kept resurfacing… coming back to haunt her.

    Her hands shaking, she reached for the Bible that lay on her trunk beside the little bunk in the ship's cabin. It was dark… where was the lantern? She couldn't see… so she just held the precious Book close to her heart. Deriving comfort just from the nearness of those blessed words. She knew them by heart anyway.

    "As I was with Moses, so I will be with thee: I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee." she whispered into the darkness. "Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest."

    Retrieving her pillow from beneath the bunk, she let her head fall back onto it, but she couldn't sleep. Still clutching the Book, she whispered those words over and over as she listened to the sound of the waves crashing against the hull of the ship.

    "Gu dàna. Boldly."

    And at long last she was able to fall into a dreamless sleep.

oOo

    Lorna's ship landed in New York Harbor two weeks after it had left port in Aberdeen. It was a strange new world that met her eyes… a busy, noisy world of turmoil. A city… teeming with life. People of all races and nationalities seemed to be everywhere all at once. Languages she had never heard before filled the air mingled with the sounds of carriages, wagons, pushcarts rolling through the dingy, narrow streets.

    Her trunk had been sent on ahead to the little boarding house where she had planned on staying and so, clinging to her carpetbag with her left hand and her little address book in the other, Lorna picked her way through the streets, gazing at the unfamiliar buildings that shot up many stories high. It was nearly all she could do to keep from being run over. Nobody seemed to look where they were going. And nobody really seemed to care, either. Everyone was wrapped in their own business and nobody noticed anyone else. Never had Lorna dreamed that so many people could exist in one place. Back home… in those wild craggy highlands… the nearest neighbor was half an hour's ride away. In her hills, she had always the sense of being completely alone. And yet she had never been lonely. Not until… but she brushed the thought away.

    After wandering through those chaotic streets for what seemed like hours, Lorna paused before a towering brick building with a Latin motto inscribed in stone over the heavy wooden doors. But she could not read Latin. It didn't matter… the engraved sign before the steps told her what she needed to know. After a brief moment's hesitation, she swallowed her nervousness and pushed her way inside.

    "Can I help you, Miss?" A thin little clerk with a pair of spectacles perched atop his rather large, hooked nose, greeted her drily as she entered. It was a large room… high-ceilinged and dimly-lighted with a wooden floor that creaked dreadfully with every step she took. She moved closer to the receptionist's desk and set down her heavy carpet bag with a sense of relief.

    "Can ye tell me where th' Board o' Education office is?"

    "Third floor, office number seven. The elevator is just over there," the clerk gestured with a rusty-looking fountain pen.

    "Elevator?" Lorna frowned. Never had she heard of such a thing.

    "Yes, Miss. Why… don't you know what an elevator is? Ha! I do declare. Where are you from?"

    "It doesna matter where I'm from," Lorna sniffed. Really, he didn't have to be rude about it. Without even waiting for an answer, she picked up her bag again and set off in the direction indicated. Arriving at the "elevator", she was relieved to find there was someone there who knew what it was and how to run it… nor did he make fun of her.

    "Which floor, Miss?" the man asked cordially as he opened the door for her. It was nothing more than a rather tiny little room… a closet. She hung back, looking at him askance.

    "I… How does this work?"

    "It moves between floors… powered by steam. Like a train, you know."

    "I see. I… I need t' gae t' the third floor, then." Biting her lip, Lorna stepped inside, watching curiously as the man closed the door and worked the levers. The elevator was actually moving! Startled, she reached for the handrail, then straightened up. It would certainly never do to act like a complete greenhorn. She must be calm, prepared to meet any new… anything… that could possibly come her way.

    Relieved to find herself safely on the third floor, Lorna found office number seven easily and entered the room quietly.

    "Mr. Grant?"

    The stout, florid man at the desk looked up from his papers.

    "Yes," he said briefly, barely glancing up.

    "Lorna McAllister. I wrote ye about a position in one of the New York schools."

    "Ah, yes. Miss McAllister. Let me see…" he shuffled through a heavy, rather disorganized stack of correspondence with a contemplative frown. "I see here your teaching application and it looks good. Unfortunately, I'm afraid I cannot offer you a position at this time."

    Lorna sat stunned. She had based her entire hopes upon obtaining a teaching job immediately upon her arrival. If she couldn't get it… then what? Washing dishes? Slaving in one of the dreaded factories she had heard so much about?

    "Mr. Grant… I dinnae understan'. I was told that… that…" she hesitated. "I'll take anythin'… anythin'. If there's any teachin' job ye know of… outside o' New York… somethin' that no one else will take… anythin', Mr. Grant."

    Mr. Grant listened to her desperate appeal without the slightest change of emotion in his face. But when she ran out of words, he silently began to search again through his ponderous pile of papers and at long last fished out a solitary, handwritten letter.

    "I have here a letter from the Dakota Territories." he began, looking at her skeptically. "More and more families have been moving out there and yet there are hardly enough teachers. I hesitate to send a young woman alone to the Dakotas but… if you're certain you want it, you can take a position out there."

    "Och, aye! I'll take it!" Lorna cried impulsively, not even thinking of what such an undertaking might involve. "How far is it from New York?"

    "Over a thousand miles." Mr. Grant answered, slowly and blandly. "You can make it by train… and you're just in time. The transcontinental railroad was scarce finished just last year. But I must warn you, young lady, the Dakota Territories are nothing to be taken lightly. It's a long and hazardous trip. The land is wild out there… outlaws and bandits and savages… not to mention the abundant supply of miners and cowboys and ranchers… a rough lot, all of them. You'd best be careful. Very careful."

oOo

    Thus it was that Lorna found herself standing on the little platform of the New York train station early the next morning, trying to talk to the incredulous station master.

    "Aye, sir. A one way ticket to the Dakota Territories."

    Muttering something about "young fools" and "women who didn't know their place", the station master handed over the ticket. There was no going back now. A thousand miles further across this unfamiliar new continent. A thousand more reasons that she would never see her homeland again. A thousand more things to fear… nay… a thousand more things to face boldly.