The Golden Gates

by C. R. Kliewer

  “Cheat.” she stated archly.

  “Me? From the way you play, I thought it was part of the rules,” he defended himself innocently.

  Her expression melted to a soft smile and then knitted to confusion as her eyes regained that steely look he had come to recognize as a defense mechanism. “What made you think that I had lost a sibling? The article doesn’t discuss that.”

  Soberly, he began to explain. “The distance in ages between you and your brother was a clue in itself. When we first talked, I assumed you came from a larger family. You have many characteristics of a first born. Independent. Responsible. Stubborn.”

  Her eyes snapped a sharp rebuke. “Hey!”

  Showing no sign of remorse, “You must have had responsibilities at home that included watching over any younger brothers or sisters. Were probably a bossy little thing too. Your brother looks here to be about, what, five or six? Most likely, you were away at school for a few years so he could not possibly have been in your charge long enough to make that kind of mark on you. Plus, you said only once did you remember your dad shedding any tears. Family obviously being important to you, what else could affect him but a family tragedy? There is also a good possibility that you lost more than one sibling at the same time. Am I right?”

  “There were two others, besides me and Henry. Catherin and Peter.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to poke a wound.”

  “They died over ten years ago. I think it was more the shock that you knew anything about them that caught me off guard. Catherin came home from school one day with a fever and a cough. A couple days later a rash appeared.”

  “Measles.”

  Anna nodded. “Peter and I both came down with it a couple days later. I had always taken it upon myself to cure them whenever they were sick. This time I couldn’t. I didn’t have the strength. When they died, I felt that I had failed them. It’s crazy how you picked up on that.”

  “It was just an assumption. I didn’t know for sure.”

  One of her serious brows rose in question. “Isn’t it a little dangerous for someone in your line of work to be assuming? You know what happens when you assume.”

  It makes an ass out of u and me. He smiled at the old joke. “Shut it,” he said reproachfully, then began schooling his new pupil. “Assumptions give you direction. Kind of like a map. They show you where to look next if you just pay attention. If your assumption is confirmed, great, you move on. If not, you reevaluate your position. Either way, you are closer to the truth than you were before. The key is to remain objective to the situation, or the person, and accept the fact that sometimes your initial judgment is wrong. Eventually, with patience, you find something useful.” He looked at her again with a warped smile while he took a sip from his drink. “By the way, I’m not the only one who relies on assumptions at this table. You best be careful Miss Kelly.” With that, he raised his bottle of near beer in a proposed toast. “To cheats and asses.”

  “Cheats and asses,” she chimed, raising her glass of water to his bottle, making that familiar chinking sound that usually follows toasts of more serious and noble sentiments.

  6

  The Brown Tail

  * * *

  He knew it was a bad idea. Breakfast should have been warning enough. Lunch was even worse. He should have cut her loose as soon as she spit out her first question. Hell, he shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place. But the confines of the train. The sheer monotony of it all. He was restless, irritated, and bored. Plus, it would keep him in good form. She was sharp, but not infallible. Besides, what harm could it do to share a few meals with a skirt? He knew the answer to that one but chose to ignore it. Anyway, he didn’t like the look of the man sitting in the booth across from them at lunch. He wasn’t reading the paper; he was looking at it, turning the page only when he remembered to. He was there at breakfast too. First booth on the right when he entered, three booths away from Anna.

  The question was: Who was he interested in? Anna or him? Anna would be an easy target for a predator, and the least Forster could do was to keep her safe from schmucks for a few hours. And if Schmuck was listening to their conversation, there was a good chance that he thought Forster was a cop. That is, if he wasn’t there for Forster. But what if he was there for him? No worries there. There’s no question the man is an amateur.

  So dinner was on. She had gone back to her section to read a book, A whodunit no doubt, and he had three hours to himself to do some digging of his own. In talking to the porter, he found out that the man, a Mr. Brown, Original, boarded the train last night in Denver, and he was installed in the same sleeping car as Miss Kelly.

  From the waiter Forster learned that when he left her just after lunch, Anna had lingered over her coffee for a few more minutes before she stood to leave. The man got up got up as well and followed her toward the door, stopping her right before she reached it.

  “Yeah, they started exchanging some words. She didn’t look happy to see him. Tell you the truth, I didn’t like the look of him either.”

  “What happened next?”

  “They sat back down over there in the last booth.”

  “Did they order anything?”

  “No,” the waiter said with some disgust. “I was on my way over, when he waved me away like some common fly. She didn’t look like she wanted my help either, so I left.”

  “Did you catch what they were talking about?”

  “No, but I can tell you it didn’t end well. They weren’t there but a few minutes before she got up and left in a hurry. He stayed behind looking pretty pleased with himself. Yeti.”

  “Thanks pal. Hey, for tonight, what I had for lunch didn’t quite do it for me, if you know what I mean.”

  “Ask for lemon in your tea, and you should be alright.”

  Forster smiled. “Thanks again, I really appreciate it.”

  It was beginning to look like Mr. Brown was an opportunist, and she a pretty face in the wrong place at the wrong time. But what could he possibly have to say to make her want stay and listen?

  He looked down at his watch. 4:23. Sixty-seven minutes before their scheduled meal. Still, he should make his way back to her car just to be sure Brown wasn’t causing her any more trouble. On his way, he stopped by his SOS. Just to be sure. Forster’s fingers slowly traced the latch and slid the door open. From the corridor, things looked good, untouched. But things that looked good on the outside were not a guarantee that they weren’t all fouled up on the inside, more often than not they were. His hand slipped beneath his coat just before he crossed the threshold.

  No one. No sign of anyone being there either. He made a thorough inspection. Everything was just as he had left it. Now to go back and check on things in the sleeping car. He stepped out into the corridor.

  “Hello Mr. Flynn.”

  Damn.

  Mr. Brown stood just feet away, revolver in hand. “Hello Mr. Brown,” Forster replied through a sneer.

  “That’s quite a filly you got there, Miss Kelly. Not very bright though.”

  “Really, what makes you say that?”

  “She’s convinced that you’re a real stand-up guy. Doesn’t know what you really are.”

  “Excuse me, but I don’t believe we’ve met. There’s no way I could forget an ugly mug like yours.”

  Mr. Brown’s smug words turned into a low growl. “Your reputation precedes you.”

  “You should know better than to listen to rumors.”

  Tired of this, “Come on Flynn. Better come quietly. You know neither of us can afford a scene.”

  “Like hell!” Forster dodged back into his unit. Brown rushed after him, albeit unwisely. What Brown failed to realize was that given the time it took for him to respond to Forster’s unexpected break and the time it took for him to cover the distance to even reach the door, gave Forster more than enough time to slip immediately to the left just after entry, spin back around, and clock Brown in the head with the butt of
his pistol as he came through the door. He never had a chance. Like I said, amateur. Really Mr. Brown, you should have seen that one coming.

  With the mystery of Brown’s purposes out of the way, Forster was faced with a new problem: What to do with Brown now? He slid the door closed before he bent down and checked the vitals. Still breathing, but’ll be out for a while. His eyes traveled up to the window. That’ll do. “Time to go, Mr. Brown. Let me see you off.”

  *

  5:49 PM

  Forster was sitting in the booth at the far end of the dining car. His eyes were dark. His lips set in a grim scowl. The difficulty was where to take it from here. If Brown knew where to find him, and he was a schlemiel, it was only a matter of time before someone else would. That wasn’t what bothered him though. The thing that bothered him wore a skirt.

  As if on cue, Anna entered at the opposite end of the car. It would be a few seconds before she saw him. He had chosen this booth for that very purpose. Not only was it in the back, but it was also partially hidden by the kitchen. It gave him just enough time. Lightening his eyes and softening the corners of his mouth into a smile, he waved to get her attention. She responded and began making her way towards him, a little more slowly this time.

  She sat down across from him. The warm laughter that usually hung around her eyes was missing. In its place was mute question.

  “Hello, Mr. Forster.”

  “Good evening, Miss Kelly.” Here it comes. But it didn’t. She just sat there. Looking at him. Was she waiting for an explanation? A denial? A confession? He wasn’t going to give it, voluntarily. He continued to smile at her warmly. “Did you get very far on your book?”

  “No. I guess I was a little distracted.”

  “It’s to be expected.”

  “What?”

  “With your family and all. You must be worried sick.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “It will turn out all right. You’ve got a plan, a good one, and a good head on your shoulders to carry it out. I don’t doubt you’ll do fine.”

  “It’s not that.” She looked at him again with that same question. He shook his head.

  “Look Miss Kelly. I can see something is bothering you beyond your family’s situation. Let me just say, there are certain things that I am not at liberty to explain to you, and it would be best if you didn’t ask. I’m not asking you to trust me. That’s a decision you will have to make on your own.”

  Her eyes continued to look serious, but the question disappeared. “It’s not that I don’t trust you Mr. Forster. The fact is: I never have.”

  This was a surprise to him. One he couldn’t fully cover.

  She smiled. “No. You are a liar Mr. Forster. I knew that from the start.”

  Not sure what to make of this statement, “What is it then?”

  “You. I am concerned for you, Mr. Forster.”

  “For me?” He laughed. “Believe me Miss Kelly. You needn’t be.”

  She gave him one last searching look accompanied by a raised eyebrow, shrugged her shoulders, and changed the subject. “Let’s say we order dinner.”

  “Good idea.” He waved over the waiter.

  “Good evening Mr. Forster. What can I get for you and the lady?”

  “Chicken and tea with lemon in it for me and whatever she wants.”

  “Miss?” The waiter turned to Anna.

  “Actually, the chicken sounds good, and I think I’ll have tea with lemon in it as well.”

  The waiter’s eyes grew slightly wider. “Are you sure Miss?” He looked to Forster. Forster met his eyes giving him a slight negative nod that he hoped was imperceptible to Anna.

  “Two chickens and two teas. Will that be all sir?”

  “On second thought, double the lemon in mine.”

  7

  Parting is No Sweet Sorrow

  * * *

  7:02 PM

  The train would be pulling into Oakland in less than 30 minutes. Forster was back in his SOS packing and repacking his two small suitcases.

  Despite a shaky start, dinner had been pleasant. Once their meal had come, all signs of shadow disappeared. He was still guarded of course, but he needn’t be. She avoided asking those questions that had to do with a personal nature, even those about his work. He treated her to dessert, and then they parted ways to gather their things before the train reached the station. Having enjoyed each other’s company thus far, they decided to meet in the observation car before departure so they could continue on the ferry across the bay together.

  He exited his SOS for the last time, and as he walked down the corridor, luggage in hand, his thoughts wrestled with one another other. She was a good girl. He hoped she would be able to make it in the city. But for all her courage and pluck, she was still an Okie, with little outside experience. A wheat. And though she was smart, he was sure San Francisco was chalk full of people only too willing to take advantage of her ignorance. I wonder what this aunt of hers is like. Despite his concerns, he decided it was fortunate that it would not be in his power to check up on her. It was better for her anyway that he should keep his distance.

  Better for her? Better for him!

  *

  An hour later, the ferry from Oakland to San Francisco, carrying commuters, tourists, natives, fortune hunters, pleasure seekers, Anna, and Forster reached the piers on the opposite side of the bay. The journey across the waters had been a silent one; he had nothing to say, and she was too absorbed with this new experience to share any of her own musings. It was enough for her just to have someone there who was not a complete stranger. Had she been entirely on her own, she would not have felt free to close her eyes, lean way over the rails, and set her face to the wind, all while deeply inhaling the salty sea air. Being landlocked most of her life, it was a sensation she had never known. To him, this was no novelty, so he quietly stood aside, content to be a bystander.

  When the boat pulled into the Ferry Station on San Francisco’s northern shore, the round clock face at the top of its square tower was displaying the time: 8:29. Not realizing the ferry had come to a stop, Anna’s eyes remained closed. For Forster, this was the perfect exit. He picked up his suitcases, one in each hand, and without word or ceremony, left her standing on the deck. His retreat was so swift and so silent that she did not realize he had disappeared until a full minute later when a thought occurred to her that she actually wished to share. She turned her head slightly to the left and opened her mouth to voice it without opening her eyes. Having dispensed of her philosophical wisdom and not eliciting from him the expected response, she opened her eyes to see that the object of her directed bit of insight had vanished. She swiveled her head and eyes around, searching the deck. When that yielded no favorable result, she looked down on the pier below her.

  There he was. Standing off by himself. Looking back at her. Just waiting for her to see him. The wind kicking up the hems of his overcoat.

  “This your stop?” she called out.

  “Yeah!”

  “Is your office around here too?”

  “Not too far!”

  “When should I come down to type those papers for you?”

  “What papers?”

  “The papers you wanted me to type?” A horrid realization began to dawn on her. “We had a deal! You paid me in advance!”

  He gave an exaggerated shrug and a smile of confession. Apparently this was one lie she had not seen through. He turned and began walking towards the street. As the ferry started pulling away from the pier now on its way to Sausalito, he turned back round to look at her one last time and waved, laughing at the stunned expression on her face. She should have known! Didn’t she say she didn’t trust him? The incredulous look turned to one of anger and accusation. He saw her lips move in mute ferocity. A split second later, the wind carried the words “Ass, Cheat, and Liar!” to his ears.

  You don’t know the half of it, Sweetheart. He smiled sadly to himself and disappeared into the city.

  *


  Anna’s bitterness against Forster did not last long. She was more angry at herself for being taken in than she was at him. She knew that much of what he said on the train was evasive if not an out and out lie. But not one to harbor a grudge in the first place, she had forgiven him within the first five minutes. You’ve got to hand it to him. He’s good. Within ten minutes she had forgiven herself. Ah, well. I was probably blinded by hunger. Within fifteen, he was all but forgotten as thoughts of her family and an uncertain future took over. What will it be like to live with her aunt? Would they get along? Would she be able to do the work she was expected to do? What was her family doing right now? Would they have enough? What will happen to the farm if they don’t? Why didn’t they tell me?

  Grabbing hold of her valise and gripping her worn woolen sweater closed to keep in the warmth that was rapidly being stolen by creeping fingers of the sea air, she stood among the daily commuters on deck and set her eyes for the first time on the strait known as The Golden Gate. The sun was beginning its descent, falling slowly between emerald hills that sloped down, disappearing into the leaden water; the sky a brilliant blend of pinks and yellows just above the horizon and gradually fading to soft amethyst and turquoise before darkening to deep sapphire as the eye traveled upward. Venus blazed glorious like a diamond set in precious metals near the horizon.