Silence May Legion

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Warning: This short story contains potentially sensitive content regarding religion, mental health, and violence.

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Silence May Legion was now an orphan twice-over.

Kind townspeople whispered over white picket fences: “Kid can’t catch a break! Abandoned as a baby and left alone again after that awful fire out at the Legion’s place. They were some sort of distant relatives. She’ll be sent to the Poor Farm for sure. Miss Withershame will take care of her.”

Less kind townspeople said: “Probably a blessing. Arnie Legion was a vicious sort. Beat his wife regular, he did. That little girl is well out of it even if she does end up over at the Poor Farm with that Withershame woman. Crazy as a bed bug she is.”

The local gazette said: “The Legions lived on the outskirts of town. No one saw the flames until it was too late. The only survivor was their nine-year-old daughter, Silence, who used a wooden chair to break through the chicken wire mesh window in her third-floor bedroom.  She received third-degree burns on her arms and legs while sliding down a metal drainpipe.  A coop full of chickens the family kept will be donated to the Poor Farm.”

Church parishioners said: “It’s a miracle Silence managed to break that bedroom window and escape. God was watching over her; you can be sure.”

Silence said: “I heard voices yelling at me to get out! I am sorry I broke the window. Papa will be angry with me.”

The fire chief said: “Probably her folks screaming at her to escape – a last act of love for their only child.”

Abigail Smith, the town gossip said: “She was adopted, you know. Left in a blanket at the Church. Arnie and Patience named her Silence because she hardly ever cried when she was a baby.”

Abigail’s best friend Amelia said: “You should have seen her back. It was covered in cuts and bruises. Really deep ones. Must have been caused by going through that window. The glass you know. And the embedded chicken wire. And, my Lordy! The burns…”

Father Brooks said: “The birth mother left a note. ‘Don’t send my baby away from home. She is safe here.’ And she left money for her care. A lot of money, actually.”

Arnie Legion’s sister-in-law said: “That bedroom had a mesh window. They put it in when our mother needed to be kept safe at night. To lock her up, you know. Keep her from wandering. That little girl must be very strong to have gotten through it.”

The coroner said: “Death from smoke inhalation.”

Children’s Services ruled: “No other known relatives. Child will be committed to the orphanage at the Poor Farm to be cared for until reaching the age of majority. Place only within town precinct per the birth mother’s request.”

~ ~ ~

“Look at you! Almost 12 and already starting to blossom.” That was Miss Withershame’s euphemistic way of acknowledging the onset of menses in her young female charges. She preferred to outplace her girls before they reached puberty. “Such a messy thing – puberty” – she was known to say in private.  She admonished Silence: “You are going to be a beautiful young lady and find a loving home – if you behave.” Not starting her menses was included in Miss Withershame’s definition of behaving.

A year later, while  filling out Silence’s monthly report for Child Services, Miss Withershame complained: “Blond hair, green eyes, 5 foot 8 inches, 131 pounds.” She looked up at Silence. “I don’t know why they make me fill out the same information every year. It’s a waste of time. Do they think your eyes have suddenly changed color?”

She expected and got no answer from Silence. Tall for her age and still growing, Silence was pleasingly plump (not fat, just nicely rounded). ‘Pleasingly plump’ was another of Miss Withershame’s euphemisms. She used it to describe any young woman who started showing signs of having breasts or hips. She was doubly displeased with Silence for this transgression. “It will be that much harder to place you now that you have started your monthlies. And started getting breasts! Messy.”

Miss Withershame placed her four times over the next three years. Each time, Silence was sent back to the Farm. Miss Withershame was perplexed. “I don’t understand what happened to that elderly couple we placed you with last month. You were just what the doctor ordered…a strong young woman to care for them. But then they go and die in a car crash.

The coroner said: “Death by misadventure.”

The Fire inspector said: “It weren’t the crash that did them, your honor. It were the fire. The crash just knocked them out long enough for the fire to do its work.”

Miss Withershame said: “You were lucky to have come down with a stomach bug that day, weren’t you Silence?”

Silence said: “Yes, Miss Withershame.”

“You didn’t say anything to them to upset them… did you?”

“No, Miss Withershame. I hardly ever said a word.”

“You must try harder, Silence. That makes four failed placements. I don’t want you here for another seven years, you know.”

Miss Withershame paused to chew on the end of her pen. “Four failures,” she mused. “All related to some unforeseen event. Let’s see…”

Larry and Amanda Young…they complained that you poisoned their dog. That was disproved by the Police Chief who found a packet of strychnine in their neighbor’s garage. But the couple was adamant that it was you, so back you came.”

After that, it was Bruce and Nancy Anthony – a nice church-going couple who couldn’t have children. They were suddenly consumed by a religious calling and wanted to take you to South Africa on a missionary trip with them. We couldn’t allow that. Not with your birth mother’s donation for your keeping.”

Abigail Smith said to Amelia: “Silence had a lucky escape there. The Anthony’s  ship was sunk by pirates off The Gulf of Guinea. They say it is the most dangerous shipping route in the world!”

And there were the elderly sisters who took you in. Now, what were their names…?”

“Hope and Charity,” supplied Silence. “Faith passed away from Cancer earlier the same year,”

“Yes. Hope and Charity. Those were the names. They wanted to rename you ‘Faith’. It would make them whole again, they said. I had high hopes for that placement. They returned you to us without a word of explanation. Not a single word.”

Miss Withershame raised a questioning face to Silence. “And now this last tragedy. If I were superstitious, I might even suspect…” Silence’s gently smiling face suddenly terrified her. “Good heavens! It’s almost time for dinner. Off you go Silence. Remember to wash your hands.”

“Yes, Miss Withershame.”

Later, after an unappetizing dinner of over-cooked baked beans and burned rolls, Silence relaxed in her room with the friends she had made since coming to the Farm.

“Yes, Miss Withershame…No, Miss Withershame. You would think that somehow you could keep your body from going into puberty!” Agnes was indignant. “Not to mention somehow causing a car accident from your sick bed or arranging for pirates to sink a ship halfway around the world.”

“You forgot the weird sisters. Their deaths were ruled a murder/suicide,” Brenda reminded them. “And you weren’t even living there when that happened! Talk about messy!”

“Miss Withershame doesn't like messy stuff.” There were giggles all around.

“Do you suppose Miss Withershame ever thinks about suicide?” A quiet, unassuming voice spoke from the back edge of the circle of friends around Silence’s bed.

“Lucy! That was evil.” Silence tried to keep Lucy’s comments for private moments late at night when she could be alone with the often-sullen girl. Lucy was Silence’s secret weapon against despair. She said and did all the things that Silence didn’t dare to say or do.

~ ~ ~

Three days before Silence’s 17^th birthday, the east wing of the Poor Farm caught fire. A night watchman was killed. None of the girls suffered more than smoke-related injuries but the rooms on that end of the building were unlivable. The girls were moved to the newer west wing.

The Fire Chief said: “Clear cut case of accidental arson. Someone left a burning candle out in the hall near one of the drapes.

“Miss Withershame said: “All inmates – rather residents – are locked in their rooms at 8PM. We have several girls who sleepwalk. It was no one’s fault. Just a terrible accident. Or rather, it was mine. I check the halls every night but that night I had a headache and took a sleeping powder.”

The Fire Chief said: “If I had my way, candles would not be allowed ANYWHERE in the facility. You could have burned the whole place down instead of just the east wing, for God’s sake!”

The Coroner said: “Death by smoke inhalation.”

A week later, Miss Withershame fell into the Duck Pond and drowned.

The Coroner said: “Death by drowning.” Then he said: “Where was that child who keeps popping up in these misadventures at the time? Silence is it?”

The police chief said: “Back at the Poor Farm picking blueberries with four or five other girls. Nowhere near the Duck Pond. She just has terrible luck.”

Abigail Smith said to Amelia: “You mark my words. That girl – Silence – she ain’t right in the head. She’s behind all these bad things. I tell you…” No one paid any mind to Abigail’s latest flight of fantasy. Nor did anyone pay much attention when Abigail died of a heart attack. She was 92, after all…

Soon after, a new administrator arrived at the Poor Farm. Sister Mary-Margaret wore a black woolen habit with a heavy chain around the waist that had a silver cross on it. A decision had been made by the bishop to bring the facility more in line with teachings of the church that owned the Poor Farm. That changed everything.

Sister Mary-Margaret said: “Congratulations Silence! We are sending you on an adventure. A new home, a new village, new friends. A clean slate, if you will.”

Silence said: “Can my friends come with me?” Silence had never left home before and didn’t like being on her own.

Sister Mary Margaret said: “Not at first. You need to settle in. Then…maybe.” This was the first that Sister Mary-Margaret had heard about Silence having any friends at the farm. She thought it best to ignore the comment.

Lucy said: “Don’t fight it. We need to leave this place.” Silence could swear she heard Lucy hiss at Sister Mary-Margaret. “Did Lucy hiss?” she wondered – then realized how silly that sounded and ignored it.

Child Services said: “We recommend a full psychiatric review for Silence May Legion. She has been subjected to a series of frightening events and will need some help adjusting to her first time away from home. We have chosen St. Dymphna’s. It specializes in children who have been exposed to these kinds of mishaps.”

Miss Withershame’s lawyer noted for the record: “Silence Legion’s placement outside the town precinct is in direct conflict with the limitations of the birth mother’s donation to the church.” No one paid any attention to him either.

~ ~ ~

A week later, Silence stood on the train platform rehearsing how she would greet the person sent to meet her when she got to St. Dymphna’s. “Hi. My name is…” she stopped abruptly – suddenly unsure about giving her name to a perfect stranger. “Is she perfect, do you suppose?” She turned to her traveling companion; Sister Louisa had been assigned to make sure she got to where she was going. All of Silence’s friends had gathered at the train station for a send-off party. Silence asked them: “How would I know if she was? Perfect, that is. Would it make a difference?”

Mary said: “No one is perfect,”

Brenda said: “Who told you that?”

Mary said: “Dr. Mayfair. She told me that everyone has little personality quirks. It’s normal.”

Brenda said: “Then why do we call someone a ‘perfect stranger’?”

Mabel said: “You are missing the point, Brenda.” Mabel inserted herself between the two arguing friends as if she thought they might resort to fisticuffs. Which, to be fair, sometimes did happen in a no-broken-bones way. “Perfect stranger is an idiom, Silence. It just means someone you don’t know anything about.”

Tina shouted: “For God’s sake shut up! We came here to wish Silence good luck – not drag her into one of our never-ending rabbit-hole discussions.”

There were general murmurs of apology.

"We will come see you once you get settled,” they assured her.

“Can’t keep us away! Maybe we can come join you! We’ll sneak in some night, and no one will even know we are there!”

They all took turns wishing Silence well as she embarked on her life-changing journey.

Silence licked her lips, fumbled her single piece of luggage from her right hand to her left, resettled her glasses, pushed her newly trimmed bangs out of her eyes, and tried to decide if she should visit the train station restroom one more time.

“I don’t think I want to go,” she addressed her comment out loud this time to Sister Louisa who drew breath to answer but was interrupted…

“Attention on platform 6. Train 66 with non-stop service to Merseyside is now ready to board. Well-wishers may not board with passengers. So, say your ‘goodbyes’ now.”

“We still have about 10 minutes if you want to use the rest room before we board, Silence.” Sister Louisa was finding Silence difficult to talk with. “She is so very distant. Distracted.” she thought to herself. “And silent. Her name suits her. It’s like she is having a parallel conversation with someone else the whole time.”

“No. I’m OK. Just nervous.” Silence answered her.

Sister Louisa sighed and chastised herself. “I don’t really know the poor girl and here I am making judgements about her.” She schooled her features into a friendly smile and led Silence to their compartment. Two more security specialists boarded with them – Jack and Judy. Sister Louisa did not know them either. She got everyone settled in the train car. It was only a matter of minutes before the train pulled out of the station. “Is this your first train ride, Silence?”

“Yes, Sister.”

Sister Louisa patted Silence on the hand in reassurance. “Train rides are wonderful. You can watch the countryside go by your window.” She took a moment to review the packet of information the travel agent had provided. “And I see this is also the very first time you have left your home village.” 

“I don’t want to go!”

“We’ll just think of it as an adventure!”

That suggestion turned out to be true.

~ ~ ~

Sister Louisa pushed Silence’s wheelchair toward the waiting matron.

“Name?”

“Silence May Legion.”

“Why the wheelchair?”

“She became agitated, and we needed to sedate her.”

“How so?”

“She broke a window with her train case, grabbed a hunk of broken glass, attacked the porter, tried to cut my hand off to get out of the cuffs, and just missed taking Judith’s eye out. If Jack had not been there, she might very well have jumped off the train.” Sister Louisa paused to take a last look at her charge. “Too bad she didn’t!”

Matron looked a disapproving question at her.

“We were traveling over the Last Chance Gorge at the time. If the fall didn’t kill her, the rocks at the bottom would have.”

“That’s rather Brutal.”

“Ask the folks back at the Poor Farm what they think of her. There’s not a one of them that wouldn’t ‘do the deed’ given half a chance.

Everyone she comes in contact with ends up dead.”

An orderly and a nurse arrived at that moment. Matron handed them Silence’s folder and the intake form.

“Room 6-13, Code 305,” she instructed them. “And be careful. She’s been sedated, but she may be faking it, and she has a history of deadly violence. Can’t have her running about the facility on her own.” She added to herself: “The Church thinks she is possessed. The intake review panel thinks she has a case of multiple personalities. We’ll see who wins that battle! Either way, I doubt she will see the light of day ever again.”

Sister Louisa squared her shoulders and turned to leave. She heard a soft hissing behind her and turned back to look at Silence. Nothing. The girl still seemed to be unconscious. But she could swear she heard hissing. She shook off a chill and walked back to the train that would return her to the Poor Farm. She turned to look back several more times.

“Feels like someone is following us,” she said to Jack and Judith.

Jack answered. “We are all well and truly spooked, Sister. What a ride down here it was!”

“Who would have thought that little slip of a girl was so strong,” Judith added.

~ ~ ~

Breaking News: Police are warning folks in Merseyside to shelter in place. An inmate from St. Dymphna’s has escaped the high security ward. The young woman has a history of violence and is considered dangerous. She is notable for speaking with invisible ‘friends’. Should you see her, do not approach. Call your local constabulary and report the  sighting.

And this just in: Train 66R which left Merseyside tonight at 7:30 PM has run off the tracks at Last Chance Gorge Bridge. Fatalities are expected. Stay tuned for updates.

Silence said: “I think I may actually like being away from home.”

Lucy said: “We are legion!”

All Silence’s friends answered: “We are legion!”

Sister Mary-Margaret read a random passage from her Bible every night before retiring. Tonight’s verse was from Mark 5 1-20:

“Then Jesus asked him, “What is your name?”

“My name is Legion,” he replied, “for we are many.”