“All of You, Come With Me” — The Five Siblings Held Hands and Followed Him Home
How much for all five of them? Caleb Hawkins’s voice cut across the dusty main street of a small Wyoming town in the American West before his mind caught up with his mouth. A man in a bowler hat was pulling a ten-year-old girl by the arm toward a woman who’d paid for one child and didn’t want the rest.
Behind them, four more children stood barefoot in the dirt, toes caked with dust. The oldest boy’s lip was bleeding because he’d fought back. The youngest girl was silent, gripping her sister’s dress with both fists, her tears cutting thin lines through the dirt on her face.
The man in the bowler hat turned. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Caleb said. “All five.
How much?”
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Now, let’s continue. The man in the bowler hat let go of the girl’s arm, not gently. He released her the way you drop something that stopped being useful.
The girl stumbled back toward her siblings, and the oldest boy caught her, pulling her behind him, his split lip dripping blood onto his shirt. “Cornelius Fletcher,” the man said, extending his hand. “County-appointed guardian of orphan placement.
And you are?”
Caleb didn’t take his hand. “I’m the man who just asked you a question.”
Fletcher’s smile twitched. He withdrew his hand slowly and folded both arms across his ledger.
“These children are wards of the county, friend. Being placed into good Christian homes, all legal and proper.”
“That what you call it?” Caleb nodded toward the boy’s bleeding lip. “Legal and proper?”
“The boy has a temper.
He’ll learn.”
“Looks like somebody’s already been teaching him.”
Fletcher’s smile went cold. “I don’t care for your tone, mister.”
“I don’t care for a man who yanks a little girl by the arm. Reckon we’re even.”
The woman in the dark shawl cleared her throat.
“Mr. Fletcher, I said I’d take the one girl. Are we finished here or not?”
Fletcher turned to her.
The story doesn’t end here –
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