Chapter 4

Hattie

A month and a half had passed already, and Hattie had spent every spare minute looking for another job. She’d talked the cook into giving her an hour off every day between lunch and dinner. She’d used that time to look for a new position.

None of the bakeries in town needed anyone. The restaurants were all full and even the hotels told her no. She’d overheard one manager talking to the bellhop about how Papa John had visited him a month ago. The Brothel owner had told him if Hattie came to not give her a job. Papa John promised the manager he would be one of Hattie’s first customers. She left, and didn’t get far, before she could feel the tears threatening to overwhelm her. Hattie didn’t know what she was going to do.

She’d rather starve than do what Papa John suggested. However, if she didn’t have another position before then, she wouldn’t be able to hide from him. So many people of influence here in Chicago were under his thumb, either as customers or they owed him one debt or another. She didn’t stand a chance of escaping the brothel or his special training.

Hattie hung her head as she started to slowly make her way back to the brothel that was her prison. Tomorrow was Sunday.

She would go to church and ask God to help her. Maybe Pastor Long, whose daughter had the same name as her, could help her. It was all she could think of. If she had some money, she’d take the train some place far away. They said there were lots of opportunities out west, even for women. She’d just have to ask God to help her escape Papa John and his plans for her.

*****

Sunday came and Hattie got up and put on her best dress. It wasn’t anything special, but at least it wasn’t the regular dull gray of her work dress.

She had made it from the scraps of two discarded outfits from the working girls. Papa John wouldn’t allow his girls to wear anything ripped or torn, so the girls had given them to her. Hattie had taken them apart and cut panels from the white one to make the blue dress more acceptable for church. She’d raised the neckline and lowered the hem line. She’d saved all the scraps and had altered the gown over the years to keep it decent. Without a bustle, it was a modest length that covered her feet, barely, and if she grew any taller, it would be indecent. She might be able to add one more white strip around the waist and make it serviceable for a few more years. However, if she didn’t get out of here in the next month and a half, it wouldn’t matter, anyway. She wouldn’t need a church dress.

Hattie dressed quickly and made sure her raven black hair was neatly pinned up and put her simple bonnet on to cover her head in church. Hattie knew men found her attractive. The combination of the dark hair, with violet-colored eyes, seemed to draw attention she didn’t want.

Even though she was on the skinny side, her figure had filled out and that was the reason Papa John was so determined to have her. She wasn’t even that skinny, anymore. He had sent word to the kitchen that she was to eat what the working girls ate. Which was richer fare and larger portions.

But, for now, she would put all that out of her mind and worship the Lord. After service, she would talk to Pastor Long and see if he had any ideas. The pastor had a soft spot for her because she shared the same name as his daughter. They were born about a year apart but, as far as they knew, they weren’t related. But he took time to speak to her every Sunday after service, unlike some others who ignored the girl that worked at the brothel. No one else seemed to want her in their church. So she had learned early to slip into the last row and not draw attention to herself.

Today Hattie didn’t hear a word of the sermon. Once the church was dismissed, she made her way slowly up the outside aisle to the altar. She kneeled down and asked God to make a way for her to escape the plan Papa John had for her. As she poured out her fear and worry to God, along with her request, she felt a presence behind her. “Hattie, is that you?”

She wiped her face of tears and rose, turning to see Pastor Long and his daughter, Haddie, standing beside him. “Yes, Pastor. Hello, Haddie.”

Haddie reached out to her. “What’s wrong, Hattie? Why are you crying?”

“I turn twenty-one in six weeks.”

Pastor Long smiled. “Then you won’t have to stay and work in that awful place, anymore.”

His words were the key that undid her shaky composure, and she fell into his daughter’s arms and sobbed. “What is it? Why does this make you sad?”

“Because I’m trapped. Papa John has talked to every business and no one will hire me. He called me into his office a few weeks ago and told me...” She wept loudly and couldn’t be understood by either the pastor or his daughter. She finally got herself under control enough to wail out. “He’s going to move me upstairs as one of the working girls, after he trains me himself.”

Haddie gasped and pulled the girl into an encompassing embrace. “Father, we have to do something. My almost twin will not become a soiled dove and plaything for that evil man.”

The pastor was nodding. “I agree, Haddie, but what can we do? I mean, until her birthday, she must work there. If no one will hire her, I don’t know how to help her. I mean, we could have her stay with us for the short term, but it won’t put her beyond Mister Torrio’s reach. It would only delay things. We must come up with a way to get her out of Chicago.”

The daughter nodded and then looked thoughtful. She pulled Hattie away from her and wiped her tears. “Stop crying, almost sister. I may know of a way to get you far away from Papa John and his plans for you. How do you feel about getting married?”

Hattie and Pastor Long both looked at her. “What are you thinking, Daughter?”

“Do you remember me telling you about my friend, Linda? Pastor Jackson’s wife?”

“Yes, what about her?”

“She told me about a friend of theirs, out west, who pastors a church in the Montana Territory. He asked them to help him recruit some mail-order brides, for men of good standing in his church, including himself. Linda asked me to write the pastor and I’ve been doing that, but while the thought of getting married and having a family of my own is exciting, I was worried about leaving you and our church without my influence on the Ladies’ Aid Society.”

Hattie frowned. “You want me to become a mail-order bride? Marry a man I’ve never met?”

“No, it won’t work like that. All the potential brides will get paid fare to Sanctuary, that’s the name of the town. They will all stay in a boarding house, paid for by the potential husbands. If things don’t work out, they will be offered return fare as well.

“So, you could go there and maybe find a husband who cared for you and whom you could care for. Even if you didn’t, you’d be well out of Papa John’s reach.

“You might even find respectable work out there. I bet that new boarding house could use someone with your cooking and cleaning skills.”

Hattie looked thoughtful. “But what if all the men have chosen who they want to bring out there?”

Before his daughter could answer, Pastor Long spoke up. “While I’m not sure I approve of you having written to this young man without my consent, Haddie. We should ask. Perhaps your young pastor would know of another young man of the church, who didn’t send a letter. One who might take a chance on your almost twin.” The man smiled at the cute little title the two had given to each other when they realized that except for a slight difference in spelling, they had the same name.

Haddie clapped her hands in excitement. “I believe he would, Father. In his last letter, he said that this was just the first round of potential brides. A test to see if the concept was workable. If it was, they were going to do a second round in the spring.”

The Pastor looked at his young parishioner. “What do you think, Hattie? Should we write to this pastor and see if we can get you on the train on your birthday?”

Hattie didn’t even have to think about it. She had been pouring her heart out to God. Asking him to make a way of escape for her. Now here her friend seemed to have one that not only got her away from Papa John, but gave her a chance for her dream of a home and family of her own. “Yes. I think that’s a great idea. I sure hope he says yes, or all this will have been for nothing.”

“Let’s pray that God will touch this young man’s heart and make a way for you, dear.”

The three of them kneeled back at the altar, hand in hand. Pastor Long and Haddie did just that, praying for their charge and friend. After the final amen, Hattie got up and hugged them both and headed for the door. Her heart feeling lighter of the burden she had carried into the service that morning. As she was exiting the church, she heard Pastor Long speak to his daughter. “I expect you to bring me this young man’s letters when we get home, Daughter. We must talk about why you kept this a secret from me.”