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I Survived #5: I Survived the San Francisco Earthquake, 1906

Page 2

by Lauren Tarshis

And then, when the snake was dead, Grandpop cut off the rattle for good luck.

  Far from those tall grasses in the prairie, the grizzly bear snarled at Grandpop, inching closer.

  Grandpop put his hand in his pocket and started shaking the snake’s rattle. The sound rose up around them.

  Shkshkshkshkshkshkshkshkshkshkshk,

  shkshkshkshkshkshkshkshkshkshkshk,

  shkshkshkshkshkshkshkshkshkshkshk.

  Grandpop hoped that grizzlies were afraid of rattlesnakes. He hoped he could trick it into thinking that he was some kind of huge rattlesnake-man. A fearsome monster.

  The bear looked around, and Grandpop could see the fear in its eyes.

  It let off one last roar, and then scampered off.

  Now, sitting on his flea-bitten blanket, Leo realized that Morris was right. There might be a way to scare Fletch and Wilkie, to trick them into giving back the gold just like Grandpop had tricked that bear into running away.

  And sure enough, sometime in the middle of the night, Leo had come up with a plan.

  What gave Leo his idea was a story that every kid in San Francisco knew, a ghost story about a man named Corey Drew.

  He was a man who had struck it rich during the gold rush and moved to San Francisco. He’d lived in Rincon Hill, which was the fanciest part of San Francisco back then. He was all set to build himself a huge mansion, marry a fine lady, and start his new life.

  Then one night, walking up Rincon Hill, he was robbed and stabbed to death.

  His killer was never found.

  But old-timers said that his ghost still haunted the streets of that neighborhood.

  Leo wasn’t afraid of Corey Drew. Some kids were scared to be on Rincon Hill after dark. There was even a creepy rhyme about it, which every kid in San Francisco knew as well as the ABCs.

  On Rincon Hill, way up high

  There lived a man who would not die

  Corey Drew, Corey Drew

  Is watching you, is watching you.

  Corey Drew, Corey Drew

  See a crow and then you’re through.

  Late at night, shine no light.

  Or you might just die of fright.

  Leo knew that Fletch and Wilkie weren’t afraid of him or any other kids.

  They weren’t afraid of the police.

  But just maybe, they were a little afraid of the ghost of Corey Drew.

  Leo’s idea was to make Fletch and Wilkie believe that Corey Drew had come to get them. Leo had a tattered old hat of Papa’s. He had a tin of flour, which he would rub on his face for a deathly look. He had a candle, which he would hold under his chin to give himself a ghostly glow.

  He’d talk in a low whisper.

  “Give me my gold!” he’d say.

  With their eyes full of sleep, hopefully Fletch and Wilkie would believe that they really could be looking at a ghost. And they’d be just scared enough to hand over the gold nugget.

  Leo knew it was a crazy idea, for sure.

  But no crazier than scaring away a hungry grizzly with a cut-off snake rattle.

  It was past 4:30 A.M. when Leo set out for Rincon Hill.

  He’d decided to go close to sunrise. He needed darkness for his plan to work. But in case something bad happened with Fletch, Leo wanted there to be some people out on the streets. He’d know right away if Fletch and Wilkie were falling for his trick. And if they didn’t, he’d have to get away quickly.

  But Leo didn’t see a soul as he walked through the narrow streets up toward Rincon Hill. He heard some curses from the alleys — gamblers, probably. A baby’s cry sounded from an open window. A milk wagon rattled by.

  But the streets were deserted.

  Except for the dogs. They seemed to be everywhere Leo looked. Darting in and out of doorways, sprinting across the streets, shivering against buildings. Their howls and cries filled the air.

  Aaaaaoooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

  Aaaaaoooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

  He’d never heard such a sound before.

  He wondered what was upsetting the dogs. Papa had said that Grandpop always listened to the cries of wolves.

  “They always know when there’s danger around.”

  Did the dogs know something that Leo didn’t?

  Were they trying to tell him he should run home?

  Don’t be stupid, Leo told himself. Maybe the dogs howled like this every night when Leo was fast asleep. He was letting the darkness get to him.

  He reminded himself of something Papa always said: Brave people got spooked all the time. What made them brave was that they didn’t let their fear stop them. Leo thought of the noises Grandpop would have heard in the Rocky Mountains — the screams of mountain lions and the screeches of owls, gunshots of bandits and murderers. Had Grandpop let those sounds scare him off?

  Heck no!

  He’d kept moving forward.

  And so did Leo.

  Rincon Hill wasn’t fancy anymore. Most of the big mansions had been turned into boardinghouses. Other streets were lined with little wooden houses, all crammed together like teeth in a crooked smile.

  Leo reached the corner of Essex and Folsom, and saw a beaten-up building. The roof was half caved in. The huge chimney loomed against the black sky. The front window was shattered and the front door was hanging off its hinges.

  Was this the place?

  It had to be, he decided. The other buildings were just regular houses.

  Leo stood on the steps, knowing that he could lose his nerve any second.

  He took a deep breath, pushed aside the front door, and slipped in.

  He lit his candle and held it in front of him.

  He’d always imagined Fletch and Wilkie’s hideout would be like a pirate den. He pictured velvet couches and fine rugs stolen from mansions on Nob Hill.

  But the place was a dump. There were broken chairs and tables piled in one corner and garbage heaped in the other. The air was cold and damp, and it stunk like trash and rats. He saw two shapes sprawled across the floor, at the back of the saloon.

  Leo crept closer.

  It was Fletch and Wilkie, fast asleep.

  They didn’t even have an old horse blanket to share. They had covered themselves with newspapers. Amazing, Leo thought. This place was worse than his little room at the boardinghouse.

  He looked around, hoping that maybe he’d see his gold nugget. There was a dead mouse lying stiffly near Wilkie’s foot. But no gold.

  Gathering up every ounce of courage he’d ever had, he put the candle under his chin. He closed his eyes and thought of Grandpop.

  “Give me my gold,” he whispered.

  And then louder.

  “Give me my gold!”

  Fletch opened his eyes first. “What the …” He jumped up.

  Leo’s candle gave the room an eerie golden glow.

  Wilkie stirred for a second, grumbled, and then closed his eyes again.

  Fletch gave him a cruel kick in his side.

  “What?” Wilkie said, scrambling to his feet. He quickly fixed his eyes on Leo. “Who’s that?”

  “Give me my gold,” Leo whispered again.

  The two boys stared at him.

  And then Leo saw it, in Wilkie’s eyes.

  A flicker of fear.

  “It’s that man!” Wilkie said.

  “What man?” Fletch rasped.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Wilkie said.

  Fletch wavered a little, Leo could see. But he was still looking at Leo with a hard, untrusting expression.

  He wasn’t fooled, Leo thought.

  This wasn’t working.

  Run! he told himself. Get out of here now!

  But somehow Leo was able to stay still. He stood a little taller. He imagined he really was the ghost of a murdered man. Fletch and Wilkie weren’t killers, as far as Leo knew. But they had hurt dozens of people in their lives, probably more. If anyone deserved to be haunted, it was these two.

  “I know what you’ve done,” Leo w
hispered, the way Papa used to whisper when he told his late-night stories. “You will be punished.”

  Wilkie looked terrified. It was as though Leo had cast a spell on him.

  But then there was a loud crash from the front.

  They all turned. And for a second Leo expected to see the ghost of Corey Drew hovering in the doorway.

  Instead, he saw a familiar skinny shape.

  Morris.

  Leo’s heart dropped into his boots.

  Fletch let out a rasping laugh.

  He walked over and grabbed Morris. He dragged him back by the collar and then pushed him hard into Leo. Leo’s candle dropped to the floor. Now it was almost completely dark in the old saloon.

  But that didn’t stop Fletch and Wilkie.

  As Wilkie pinned Leo and Morris against the wall, Fletch came close to them.

  Leo could feel the heat of his rotten-smelling breath. Fletch grabbed Papa’s hat from Leo’s head and smacked Leo across the face with it. Hard.

  “Your gold is long gone,” he said, in his sickening growl.

  Then he punched Morris in the stomach.

  Morris doubled over, moaning in pain.

  “Hey!” Leo said.

  Without thinking, he gave Fletch a hard shove.

  Fletch tripped and fell to the floor. In the faint predawn light, Leo saw the chilling stare on Fletch’s face. It was the look of a rattlesnake ready to strike.

  Fletch leaped to his feet and came charging toward Leo.

  Leo closed his eyes and braced himself for a beating.

  His entire body began to shake.

  But wait.

  He wasn’t shaking.

  The entire house was.

  There was a strange sound, like thunder rumbling from deep in the ground.

  The trembling got stronger. The noise rose up around them, so loud that it hurt Leo’s ears.

  The floor bounced beneath their feet.

  “What is it?” Wilkie said.

  Morris grabbed Leo by the arm.

  “It’s an earthquake!” Morris shouted. “We have to get out of here!”

  But Leo couldn’t run. The shaking was too strong. The floor rose and fell, tossing Leo into the air and dropping him. Plaster rained down from the ceiling and swirling dust filled Leo’s nose, eyes, and mouth.

  The noise grew louder. It sounded like a hundred freight trains were rushing through the house, their whistles screaming. The shaking stopped for a few seconds, and Leo managed to stand up. He staggered a few steps toward the front door. But the shaking started up again, stronger than before. Fletch rushed past him. Leo saw him dive through the front doorway.

  The rumbling became stronger still. Leo fell again. Now the entire building seemed to be rising and falling, twisting and turning.

  Smack! Something hit him on the back, hard.

  And then another — thud — hit him in the shoulder.

  Bricks. They were falling from the ceiling. That huge chimney was collapsing.

  Leo had to get out! But he couldn’t even stand. He curled himself into a ball, sure he was about to be buried alive.

  Suddenly he felt hands gripping his arm. Someone was pulling him forward.

  Morris!

  They rushed together and leaped toward the door. They landed hard on the sidewalk. And then:

  Crack!

  Boom!

  Bricks poured down, hundreds of them, spilling out the door.

  Had they been just a few steps slower, they both would have been buried.

  The ground gave one last great shake.

  And then it stopped.

  The earth was still.

  The silence was almost as frightening as the noise had been. Leo lay on his stomach, afraid to move or even to take a breath.

  Now what would happen? He’d never been through an earthquake before. He felt sure the shaking would start again.

  Morris was right next to him. His face was streaked with dirt and sweat. He had an angry bump just below his eye. Like Leo, he seemed too stunned to speak.

  Leo looked in shock at the scene around them.

  Was this really the neighborhood he’d been walking through just minutes before? It looked like a furious giant had marched through the city, jumping over some houses and stomping on others. Bricks, stones, and glass covered the sidewalks and spilled into the street. Some of the rickety houses had collapsed. Others looked like a sneeze would send them crashing down.

  People stood on the sidewalks, terrified. Families huddled together. Babies broke the silence with screams. Some people were stretched across the sidewalks, not moving.

  Leo looked around at all the crumbled buildings. How many people were trapped? There had to be hundreds buried alive.

  Or dead.

  Fletch and Wilkie were nowhere to be seen.

  Fear rose up in Leo. What would he do now? Where would he go?

  It had been hard enough for him to get by on his own before.

  How would he survive in this ruined city?

  His mind swirled with worry. He imagined himself wandering the ruined streets, scrounging for food like a rat. Not even Grandpop had faced anything like this.

  Morris turned to him with a thoughtful expression. “No wonder the dogs were howling,” he said.

  “What?” Leo said.

  “The dogs. Did you hear them howling last night? Animals can sense earthquakes before they happen. They can feel the vibrations of the earth deep underground. I read all about it in a book.”

  Was Morris serious? Was he really talking about a book as they sat in the middle of an earthquake? This kid was unbelievable!

  Leo stood up and shook the plaster from his hair. The ground started to rumble again.

  Leo froze, and braced himself.

  A crash echoed from down the street — another building caving in.

  And just as suddenly, the shaking stopped again.

  “Aftershocks,” Morris said. “The ground is going to keep moving for days.”

  Was there anything Morris didn’t know?

  People were shouting behind them.

  “Fire!” a man said.

  A plume of black smoke rose from one of the collapsed houses.

  “We have to get out of here,” Morris said. “I smell gas. The quake has broken the gas lines. This whole hill is going to be burning within an hour.”

  Leo shuddered. Nothing scared him more than fire.

  He thought of the fire that Grandpop had lived through in the Sierra Mountains. That was the closest Grandpop came to dying on his journey west. The story scared Leo so much that Papa had only told it a few times.

  “Where should we go?” Leo said.

  “I’m not sure,” Morris said. “We need to get away from here. We should head west, toward Golden Gate Park.”

  “What about your uncle?” Leo said.

  A shadow seemed to pass through Morris’s eyes. “He left the city days ago,” the younger kid said. “Something about a poker game.”

  “You don’t know where he went?”

  Morris shook his head.

  No wonder he was always waiting for Leo to come home. He was all by himself.

  “Some uncle,” Leo said.

  “That’s all right,” Morris said, matter-of-factly. “I have you.”

  The swirling in Leo’s mind suddenly stopped.

  Morris looked right into Leo’s eyes, and Leo looked right back.

  As usual, Morris was right. He did have Leo.

  And Leo had Morris.

  Morris, the most annoying kid in the world. Morris, who had come looking for him in the dark. Morris, who had probably saved Leo’s life by helping him escape from the saloon.

  Maybe Morris wasn’t very big. Maybe he didn’t know when to shut up. But he was smart and tough. And he was the truest friend Leo had ever had.

  “That’s right,” Leo said.

  Morris nodded, like they’d struck a deal. “Let’s go,” he said.

  But as they wer
e walking by the saloon, something in the rubble caught Leo’s eye.

  At first he thought it might be a rat crawling out from under the bricks.

  But no.

  It was a hand.

  It had to be Wilkie.

  Leo had seen Fletch dive out the door. But not Wilkie.

  He must have gotten caught in that shower of bricks.

  Leo’s heart pounded. Just a few minutes ago he would have prayed for Wilkie Barnes to get buried in a heap of rubble. But now he and Morris rushed over and started grabbing bricks off the pile on top of the bully.

  The air was getting smokier. But Leo and Morris kept working until finally they could see Wilkie. He was turned on his side, his face hidden.

  Morris gently put his fingers against Wilkie’s throat. “He’s alive,” Morris said. “I can tell that.”

  But Wilkie still wasn’t moving. And he was pinned under two huge roof beams.

  They formed an X over his body, protecting him from being completely crushed under the bricks. The beams had probably saved his life. But now they were like a cage that trapped him. Leo and Morris tried to lift one of the beams, but it was too heavy.

  Leo looked around and saw that a house three doors down was on fire. Flames reached out of the windows, like bright orange arms trying to grab the houses all around it.

  Soon the street would be one huge fire.

  Leo had no idea what they should do. How could they leave Wilkie here, knowing he was alive? But if they stayed, the fire would kill them too!

  Suddenly, Wilkie lifted his head.

  With a mighty push, he knocked one of the beams away. His face, covered with dust, was stark white. Blood oozed from a gash on his forehead.

  He really did look like a monster.

  Leo and Morris watched in shock as Wilkie rose out of the rubble, tossing bricks aside like they were puffs of cotton. He stood up, dusted himself off, and looked around like he’d just woken up from a deep sleep.

  “Is Fletch alive?” he asked.

  “He got out,” Leo said.

  Wilkie sighed in relief.

  But then he looked around.

 

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