The Girl Called Ellie
Chapter 03 - The Girl Called Ellie
Eleanor found Rosa two hours later.
Not at the food cart.
At a small apartment above a laundromat on Jefferson Street.
Daniel had gone to meet Martin, but Eleanor couldn't wait.
She climbed the narrow stairs alone and stood outside apartment 3B for nearly five minutes before knocking.
Rosa opened the door.
For a moment, neither woman spoke.
Then Rosa sighed.
"You always were stubborn."
Eleanor laughed through her tears.
"You remember that?"
"You used to hide your brothers' shoes so they couldn't run away."
"They kept trying."
"They were boys."
"They were idiots."
For the first time in forty-seven years, the two women smiled at each other.
Rosa stepped aside.
The apartment was small but spotless.
Family photographs covered one wall. A faded sofa faced an old television. Near the window sat a sewing machine that looked older than Daniel.
Eleanor noticed a framed photograph of a younger Rosa beside a man in a work uniform.
"My husband," Rosa said. "Luis."
"Where is he?"
"He's been gone nine years."
"I'm sorry."
Rosa nodded.
They sat.
Eleanor held the old photograph in both hands.
"I remember the first bowl you gave me."
Rosa looked toward the window.
"You said you weren't hungry."
"I was starving."
"I knew."
"I wanted Michael and Tommy to eat."
"I knew that too."
Eleanor swallowed.
After their mother died, Eleanor's father had fallen apart.
Jobs disappeared.
Then rent money disappeared.
Then he disappeared for days at a time.
At twelve, Eleanor became the closest thing her brothers had to a parent.
Every evening, they waited behind Miller's Market.
Rosa, seventeen years old and working illegally long hours in the kitchen, began sneaking leftovers to them.
"You saved us," Eleanor whispered.
Rosa shook her head.
"I fed three hungry children."
"You did more than that."
"No."
Rosa turned toward her.
"What happened to your brothers?"
Eleanor's face changed.
"Michael is alive. We found each other again when I was thirty-one."
Rosa's eyes brightened.
"And Tommy?"
Silence.
"We never found him."
Rosa looked down.
"After they separated us, I was adopted by a family in Connecticut. Michael went to Ohio. Tommy..."
Eleanor's voice broke.
"He was six years old."
Rosa closed her eyes.
"I tried to stop them."
Eleanor stared at her.
"What?"
"The night they took you."
Rosa's voice had become almost a whisper.
"I went to the authorities. I told them you children should stay together."
"You were there?"
"Outside."
Eleanor's breath caught.
She remembered a rainy night.
A county vehicle.
Michael screaming.
Tommy clutching her coat until a man pulled him away.
And somewhere behind the adults, a young woman crying.
Eleanor had always believed she'd imagined her.
"That was you."
Rosa nodded.
"I followed the car for six blocks."
"Why didn't I know?"
"Because nobody listened to girls like me."
Eleanor reached across the table and took Rosa's hand.
For a while, they simply sat there.
Then Rosa pulled her hand away.
"There's something I need to tell you."
Eleanor waited.
Rosa stood and walked toward the sewing machine.
From the bottom drawer she removed a small tin box.
Inside were old receipts, photographs, and several letters tied together with string.
Rosa selected one envelope.
It had never been opened.
On the front was written one name.
Eleanor.
Eleanor stared at it.
"When did you write this?"
"1979."
Her heart began pounding.
"Why didn't I receive it?"
Rosa's eyes filled with regret.
"Because your new father came to see me."
"My adoptive father?"
Rosa nodded.
"He told me that if I ever contacted you again, he would make sure your brothers disappeared permanently."
Eleanor went pale.
Rosa handed her the letter.
"And Ellie..."
May you like
"Yes?"
"That wasn't the worst thing he told me."
