The Address, page 23
“Are you crazy?”
Sara shook her head. If anything, the agony of childbirth had strengthened her confidence in her own mental acuity. She had lost a child. And she was here against her will. “No. Not at all.” She sat up and crossed her arms in front of her. “Are you?”
“No.”
There was no explanation, no accusation of others, and no excuses.
“Then why are you here?”
“That’s a very good question.” But Nellie didn’t answer it. “How long have you been here?”
“I came in January of this year.”
“How many madwomen would you say are in the asylum?”
“Patients.”
“Sorry? Oh, right. Patients. How many are there?”
“Sixteen hundred or so.”
As the afternoon sun made its way up the wall, Sara found herself opening up more than she ever had, even to Natalia. Partly, she wanted to give this girl a better chance at navigating the dangerous channels of Blackwell’s Island Insane Asylum. But she also wanted to be heard. One last time.
She told her of the beatings, the mistreatment and torture of Marianne. Nellie asked questions but didn’t seem overly shocked by any of it. Sometimes she repeated what Sara had said. Maybe she wasn’t very bright.
The food came. The woman picked up both trays and brought Sara one, laid it on her lap.
“I don’t want to eat.”
“I do, and I don’t like to eat alone, so you’ll have to indulge me.”
Sara bit off a crust of bread, shocked to discover her stomach growling for more.
“Where did you used to work, before you were sent here?” asked Nellie.
“I worked at the Dakota Apartment House.”
The woman put down her spoon. “I read all about that building during the construction. In what capacity?”
“I was the managerette.”
“You were in charge?”
“Under the managing agent, yes.”
Part of Sara was pleased to be able to shock this woman. Part of her wanted to sober her up, make her see that the outlook wasn’t good for either of them. You could be going along, living your life, and then see everything you’ve carefully built tumble down. She’d been worried about being with child, of how Theo would react. At the time, the problem seemed insurmountable. Until something else came along, a trip on a ferry into hell, that made her earlier troubles almost trite in comparison.
“What happened?”
“I was accused of stealing a necklace from one of the tenants.”
“Did you do that?”
“No. I don’t know who did, but it wasn’t me.”
“For that you were tossed in the madhouse?”
What was the point of playing games anymore? “I had an affair with the husband of the woman who accused me. I think she may have found out.”
“And had you committed, set you up, you mean?”
Sara had been turning the idea over in her head since her incarceration, trying to remember what had happened the days before the necklace had been found. If Mrs. Camden had found out about Theo and Sara and decided to get rid of her with a false accusation. “Perhaps.”
“Why are you up here and not with the rest of the ladies?”
“I stopped working, stopped doing much of anything. They don’t like that much.”
“What made you do that?”
Tears began falling down Sara’s face. No one had really cared much to ask why. “I had a baby, and it died, and there was no point after that.”
The woman took her hand. “The baby of your lover?”
Sara nodded. “He doesn’t even know I’m here. They’ve locked me away and I don’t know what he thinks or what happened. I’m done for.”
“I’m so sorry about the baby. You certainly don’t deserve to be tossed in an asylum for something you didn’t do. You didn’t do it, right?”
“No. I did not.”
The girl was spending far too much energy on Sara. She had to be warned.
“You need to take care of yourself going forward. Don’t question the other inmates like this, not in front of the nurses. You’ll get in trouble. The main thing is to not attract attention. Do as they ask, eat as much as you can, and in the sitting room, sit on the side opposite the windows, so you have something to look at.”
“The sitting room?”
“You’ll find out. Don’t try to help anyone, it doesn’t end well. But there’s a woman, Natalia, who’s lovely. If you can, find her.”
“What about you?”
“I don’t know if they’ll ever let me out of this room.”
“Please don’t say that.” She walked over and sat beside Sara, swallowing hard. “You are obviously quite sane; I can see that myself. You must promise to keep going for me, and do what they say. Take your own advice, at least for a few weeks?”
A few weeks, a few days. None of it mattered.
Sara didn’t reply. The sun had set and the room grew chilly. It was time for bed. They crawled under their thin blankets and spoke no more.
“Who are you looking for?” Natalia tapped her spoon on her plate and gave Sara a crooked smile. “Prince Charming?”
Sara glanced over at her friend. For the past two weeks, ever since she’d been released back to hall 6, she’d looked around in vain for Nellie, hoping to see how her cellmate was faring. Nellie had been taken out of the room the day after her arrival, while Sara had lingered on for ten or twelve days longer, she wasn’t sure which. Time had become unreliable.
“The girl, Nellie, the one I told you about.”
“Right. She was here for a while but then must have gone to another building.”
“But still, then we’d see her outside. It’s as if she vanished into thin air.”
Natalia sighed. “Wouldn’t that be nice.”
“I hope she wasn’t taken to the Lodge. She was far from violent; there would be no reason for that.”
“You see it all the time, women who are calm and then turn into savages. You never know. I’m just glad you’re back here with me. Are you glad?”
Underneath the words was concern. Natalia treated Sara differently ever since the baby. Like she was fragile, frail. Maybe she was, deep down. But the emotional and physical crisis, along with the long days and nights in a cell, had hardened her exterior into a tough shell. She did as she was told and didn’t ask questions or cause trouble. She knew her place. The asylum had beaten it into her. The baby’s death was something to be pushed down, deep, and never thought of again.
“I am very happy to be back with you, Natalia. Of course.”
“I’m sorry our plan didn’t work out.”
“It is better this way. Imagine the alternative. If it had survived.” She refused to use a gender pronoun to describe the child.
“I guess.” Natalia studied her plate. “We got fish and potatoes again. A feast.”
“Don’t question it, enjoy it. Who knows when they’ll go back to spoiled beef?”
“What about the new bedsheets? Why do you think they did that?”
Indeed, every inmate had been given a pillow and a warm blanket for their bed, unheard-of luxuries.
“Mrs. Smythe.”
Sara looked up to see Nurse Alden coming toward her at a brisk clip. “You must come with me at once.”
Sara looked over at Natalia, whose face had gone gray. “It’s all right. I’ll be fine.” But what did they want with her? She hadn’t done anything to attract attention. Nothing she could think of.
Nurse Alden’s eyes were shining. “Just come along.”
Superintendent Dent stood with Dr. Fields in the middle of the octagon’s floor. A woman in a well-cut brown wool dress stepped forward.
Nellie.
“My dear Sara, I’m so glad to see you.”
Sara looked over at Superintendent Dent. Was this a trick?
“You’re being released, Mrs. Smythe.” He didn’t look pleased, and refused to meet her gaze. “The papers have been signed. Off you go, as the boat is leaving soon.”
“I’m going?”
“Yes. You’re free.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
New York City, July 1885
“I must see Natalia.” Sara turned back to the dining hall, but Nellie caught her.
“No, there’s no time. We’ll figure it out. Not now, though.”
“Why am I being released?”
Superintendent Dent cleared his throat. “Miss Bly is a reporter and has cleared your name for you.”
“But you were an inmate here just a couple weeks ago.”
“I was, as an undercover journalist. Luckily, the press has the power to expose injustice in an unfair, unsafe institution.” She stared hard at Superintendent Dent while she spoke.
Sara wasn’t sure what that meant, what had happened. Before she could ask another question, she was taken to a room to sign some papers. Then Nellie took her by the arm and they walked outside, where the other inmates milled about.
“Sara!”
Natalia ran over, her face a cloud of concern. “Where are you going?”
Sara hugged her friend. The one person who had kept her alive the past many months. “I’m leaving, I’ve been freed. I’m not sure what happened.” She began to cry. “I can’t leave you.”
“We’ll be back, I promise,” said Nellie. She put a hand on Natalia’s arm. “This is the best I can do for now, but there will be more visits, and if Sara knows your full name and story, we’ll see if we can clear you as well.”
“Her name is Natalia Fabiano, and I can’t leave her.”
Natalia took Sara’s face in her hands. “Of course you can. You go now.” They hugged.
The horn of the boat blew and Sara and Nellie made their way to the dock, to the cheers of the inmates. The nurses tried to shush them but in vain, and Natalia’s voice soared above them all.
“Sara Smythe! Don’t forget us!”
It wasn’t until the boat pulled away and the sailor in front tossed the thick rope onto the dock that Sara fully understood the sudden change in the course of her life. Nellie shoved a newspaper into her hands. Sara pored over the front-page article where the sordid details of Blackwell’s Island Insane Asylum were laid out, one after another: the cold baths, the beatings, the sadistic staff, and the hours and hours of torturous sitting, word after terrible word, for the entire city to read. The byline read MISS NELLIE BLY.
“You’re a hero.” Sara grabbed Nellie’s hand. “You pretended to be mad? What were you thinking?”
“To be honest, I was thinking that it would make a good story. But once I was there, I realized how truly awful it was, and how no one in the city proper knew what was going on. I was certain that if they knew, they’d care, and I was right. This is only the first step. A commission has been set up and they’ve committed one million dollars to straighten the place out.”
A million dollars. The sum was unimaginable.
“But why have I alone been pardoned? What about the others? Many of the women at Blackwell’s are there only because they don’t speak enough English to defend themselves.”
“Believe me, I understand the injustices perpetrated against the women imprisoned on Blackwell’s. I’ll explain later, at dinner, the reason you are free and they’re not. First, we have to get you settled and cleaned up. Don’t be offended, but you’re rather ripe.”
In another time, Sara would have been horrified at the thought. But she couldn’t find it in herself to feel embarrassed. She was free.
After taking a carriage that was waiting for them on the other side of the river, they pulled up in front of the marble-clad Fifth Avenue Hotel on Twenty-Third Street.
“Courtesy of the World, you are getting a well-deserved pampering,” announced Nellie. “And me, too, which I am looking forward to enormously.”
A crowd was gathered outside, what looked like newspapermen gathered in a pack. Nellie took her hand. “Ignore them, follow me, just walk right through.”
“Why are they here? Do they know who I am?”
“Everyone knows who you are, darling.”
A bellboy whisked them up the elevator to a suite on the top floor. The room was lavishly appointed, with a red silk bedspread and matching chaise, purple heart marquetry and Turkish rugs.
“This is for me?” Sara’s heart beat fast. The sudden change in her fortune overwhelmed her. What she truly wanted to do was to find Theo, but she’d never be able to leave without stirring up the reporters gathered outside.
“All for you. I’ll call the maid to run you a bath, and there are several dresses and underclothes to choose from in the armoire. Take your time and then we’ll go down for supper and I’ll explain everything.”
The warm, welcome buoyancy of the bath nearly did Sara in. Her hands were chafed and raw, and her limbs seemed like they belonged to someone else. Although she didn’t want to see her reflection, the looking glass was too tempting to avoid. The loss of weight made her eyes seem bigger, her skull a massive weight on a scrawny neck. She looked like a creature from a nightmare.
A maid helped her into silk underclothes and a fawn-colored gown. After the rough wool and calico of her Blackwell’s uniform, it was like having butterfly wings next to her skin. She sat before the mirror and let the woman put up her hair in a chignon.
When her soft touch threatened to send Sara into an emotional tailspin, she remembered sitting at the asylum and concentrated on her breathing. Air in, air out.
Nellie knocked at the door and smiled when she saw her. “Well, don’t you look a treat.”
“Can we have supper in here?” Sara asked. “I’m not sure if I can be out in public. I don’t feel like myself.”
Nellie shook her head. “You’ll do fine. I’ve booked a table in the corner, just for the two of us. This is a posh hotel; no one will bother you.”
Downstairs, Nellie led the way across the parquet floor to their table, and Sara sat with her back to the room so as not to attract any more attention than she possibly could. Nellie ordered their dinner and then dove into the details.
“After I got out, I did some digging into your story. Did you know that just a few months after you’d been taken off, another worker at the Dakota had been sent to jail for stealing from tenants?”
“Who was that?”
“A Miss Daisy Cavanaugh.”
Sara inhaled sharply. “Not Daisy. That couldn’t be.”
“Apparently, she’d been filching things for some time. They found a stash of timepieces, hair clips, rings, in her room. Like a raccoon, drawn to shiny things.”
“But they found the necklace I was supposed to have stolen in my desk drawer.” Daisy had been Sara’s one friend and confidante since coming to America, and they had grown even closer since the loss of the girl’s mother. “What if she was set up as well? I knew Daisy; she was a good girl; she wouldn’t have done such a thing.”
“She admitted it and is now in prison.”
Daisy had been upset when Mr. Douglas had not increased her wages after her mother’s death. But would she really resort to stealing from the tenants? And even worse, let Sara take the blame for her misdeeds? Unimaginable. But something else nagged at Sara. Their food arrived. Sara waited until the servers were out of earshot. “If Daisy did admit to the crimes, why didn’t anyone come for me, set me free?”
“The agent at the Dakota, Mr. Douglas, told everyone you’d gone back to England. The last thing he wanted was to set you free and have you make a fuss.” She took a bite of roast beef and moaned. “Delicious! In any event, he’s no longer the agent at the Dakota. Not after it got out in the papers.”
“What exactly got out?” Sara’s stomach hurt. She couldn’t imagine eating anything right now.
“It wasn’t enough for my own experience to be told. I also wanted to get you free, to right an injustice, and to do so, I had to write about what had happened to you.”
“What did you write about me?” Sara’s mind reeled. The affair, the baby. Nellie was an intrepid journalist, and she already knew so much. Sara had been brutally honest when they spoke in that dank cell.
“I’ll show you the story when we get back upstairs.” She caught Sara’s eye. “Don’t worry, I wrote that you were a good lady, a proper one, who had been tossed away and that when the real thief was exposed, no one bothered to release you from what was a cruel, terrible institution.”
“I see.”
“What’s even better, as a show of remorse, the new agent of the Dakota is offering you your job back. They need to get on the right side of the public, you see. So you’ll be reinstated as lady managerette as soon as you’re ready.”
Nellie’s face glowed with pleasure.
Sara began to shake. “I couldn’t go back. I couldn’t.”
Nellie reached over and covered her hand with her own. “No need to make any decisions right how. I imagine the reentry into regular life is going to be a difficult one, after you’ve spent the past seven months thinking all was lost. I was there for ten days and I’m still not sure which end is up. Sleep and rest and we have a couple of days of hiding out here until you decide what you want to do next.”
“I don’t belong here. I’m not of this ilk. It’s all too much.”
“Trust me, you’ll get used to it fast enough. Tomorrow there’s someone who wants to see you, if you’re up to it.”
“Who?”
“A man who contacted me the day your story was published. He said you’d want to see him. A Mr. Theodore Camden.”
Sleep came fast that evening. Sara collapsed into the down bedding and gave in to the warmth of the room, sensations that she’d only dreamed of at Blackwell’s. She startled awake at dawn, the image of Natalia crying driving her out of a deep slumber. How could she have left her behind? And so many others?
