City of Glory by Beverly Swerling

But I say the piss gives the kidney flavor. When the Israelites was in the desert and the Holy One, Blessed Be His Name, sent them manna to eat—Book o’ Exodus that is—I bet it was kidney with plenty o’ piss stink still in it. Manna from heaven, that’s what we got here. Get the sticks, Will. How’d you lose your arm, Jesse Edwards?”
    “In a battle. Last year.”
    “You was in the war?” Will’s tone betrayed his awe.
    Jesse seemed to come alive. “Aye. Aboard Commodore Perry’s flagship Lawrence. ”
    Hannah glanced sideways at him. Lord Almighty! Probably the only thing he ever did in his life made him feel a bit special. Though sure as David was a king, only thing he’d got out of it was the loss of one wing. She fixed a share of kidney onto each of three pointed sticks and handed the largest portion to the newcomer. “Don’t take but a single arm to do most things,” she said. “Like hold a bit of meat over the fire. Besides, the Holy One, blessed be His name, looks after his own. ‘Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee.’ Book of Jeremiah. Got any family, Jesse Edwards?”
    “Was just me and my ma, then she died and I went to sea.”
    “And where you been since last year when you was a hero with Commodore Perry?”
    Jesse shrugged. “Here and there. Thought I could get work in New York, but it’s the same here as anywhere else, nobody wants me ’cause o’ this.” He nodded toward the armless shoulder. “Ain’t my fault, but—”
    “Don’t whinge,” Hannah said sharply. “The Holy One, Blessed be His Name, helps those who help themselves. Book of Proverbs. He don’t hold with whining and whinging.” The smell of roasting meat prickled in the air. Not that she’d have minded if there was only a bit of stale bread for supper. Or nothing, come to that. She had long since learned she had much in common with the wild creatures in the woods to the north. She could live off her fat when she must. The Holy One made women tough as they needed to be. Despite years of living rough, she was still as round and solid as a hitching post; still had all her teeth as well. She was forty-five or forty-six, she was never quite sure, and she saw plenty of women younger than she with nothing left but gums. But she had good strong teeth, like all the women in her family, like her mother and her grandmother. How proud of their looks they’d been in their fine taffeta gowns, and dainty leather shoes, and the tortoiseshell combs in their hair. They were…
    They were dead. No point in thinking on them. Particularly not when now she had two lads to look after. She could all but see the hunger on this new one. The hand holding his bit of kidney over the fire was shaking with it. “Not long now,” she said. “Just let it get a bit more cooked, then you can have at it. And we’ll see about finding you something as will earn you a few coppers. New York’s a fine city for work, and Holy Hannah’s got lots of ideas for boys as ain’t afraid of it.”
    By the time they’d finished the kidney, the rain had stopped. Will pulled back the canvas flap and revealed the mottled red and gold sunset sky. “Mackerel sky at night, sailor’s delight,” he said happily. “Maybe there’ll be another ship tomorrow.”
    “Not likely,” Hannah said. “This New York City is Jericho, and there’s an ambush against it and the walls are going to come down.”
    Jesse looked startled. “You said it was a fine city for work and you could—”
    “Ssh,” Will cautioned. “Don’t sass Hannah when she’s prophesying. She’s not herself then. Sometimes she don’t even remember what she says.”
    “And Joshua set the city on fire,” Hannah said softly, staring out into the scarlet sunset. “And the flames shot up as far as the sky, and you could see them for miles around. Miles and miles.”

    The rain puddled on the well-waxed wood and dripped from the oiled lines and tightly furled canvas of Canton Star.