LEGACY
Chapter Four

Rose lay wide awake in the darkness. She knew she would never be able to sleep while her son, her flesh and blood, was in a far-off world, hurt and alone. Why had he run away like that? She had spent his whole life ensuring that he would never have the need to run away, never have a need to seek a new life. Why then, did he run away toward the very life she herself had tried so hard to escape from?

She had panicked when she came home to find that her son was gone. The only things out of place were a few outfits missing from his closet and the stash of money he’d procured through various jobs around the neighborhood was gone from beneath his mattress. He had left a note, thank God.

Please don’t be angry with me. I will be back very soon, or as soon as I can. I am not hurt or in trouble. I am following new horizons. This is something that I need to do. Please do not be worried. I will try to stay in touch.

Love always,
Tom

A week later, they had gotten a letter with odd postmarks. Tom had written to them from the train, and it boggled her mind that the letter had traveled halfway across the nation to reach them. Again, he assured her that he would be fine and there was no need for worry.

I feel that the solution to our problems is somewhere I know you are too afraid to venture. That is why I have taken it upon myself to visit Mr. Caledon Hockley and see if he can help us. Do not be alarmed. I have researched him and see no reason why he cannot at least listen to my proposal. I know it must be surprising for you to learn that I even know of his name. I know that he was a prominent figure of Mother’s past, and if there is any hope that he can help us, I think it is up to me to try. By the time you receive this letter, I will most likely already be on his doorstep, approaching my fate.

The joy she’d felt to learn that her son was alive and well quickly turned to dread. How did Tom know who Cal was? What exactly did he know—or think he knew?

Her life was put on hold as she waited for further correspondence from her son. However, no more letters came. As the days passed, Jack had to take her into their room and hold her close to him so that the other children couldn’t hear her sobs.

Then came the telegraph. Tom was in the hospital, having slipped and badly hurt his left leg. That was the moment she had snapped. She’d begged Jack to scramble their funds together, to let her come see her poor sick baby.

"Do you really want to go back there?" Jack had asked.

"I don’t care anymore. He’s my son!"

Jack had looked at her then, given her one of his rare looks that scorched all the way to her soul. "He’s my son, too."

Borrowing from friends, they were about to buy train tickets for both of them to travel to Philadelphia when the second telegraph had come just that morning. This one, however, was from Cal. He said that Tom was safe and doing well; that he was recovering and would return to California as soon as he was well enough to travel.

She heard Jack stir beside her in the darkness. "What if Cal lied?" Rose asked, her voice flat.

"Rose, you can’t think like that. I hope Tom is doing well. That boy..."

"What do you think Cal’s told him?"

Jack pulled her to him. "Tom is my first son. His whole life we’ve both been there for him. This is not going to change that. He is safe and well and will come home to us soon."

*****

Cal paced along the length of his bedroom. His wife glanced up from her book. "Cal, how long are you going to do that? Come to bed." She lay the book aside and tapped the pillow lying next to her.

"It’s just—Tom. I never expected someone from my past to just show up like that."

His wife frowned. "How long is he going to stay here?"

"Why? Don’t you like him?"

"Oh, he’s polite and everything. I just don’t understand why he’s here. I don’t mind being hospitable if he’s really the son of an old friend of yours, but why won’t he tell us why he came in the first place? No one travels across America just to ask someone a question."

"Well, apparently this boy does." Cal lay down beside his wife, putting the light out. "I think I’m going to escort him home."

"Cal, no."

"How can I just send him off? He’s sick. What if something happens to him? I’d never forgive myself."

"Send the doctor with him, then. You’re being ridiculous. You are not this boy’s nanny. He can take care of himself. He has parents, doesn’t he?"

"Yes, and I believe it is time for me to see them again."

Chapter Five
Stories