Dandy Delivers

by M. Louisa Locke

  “That’s all right. I’m glad you’re going. I don’t know why he hasn’t been by at all this week, but I gathered from something that your mother said that the two of you had a falling out.”

  Jamie didn’t know what to say. All week he’d expected his mother or Kathleen to ask him what was going on, why he came home so early on Monday afternoon. But neither of them had, probably because when he got home that afternoon, everyone was all in a twitter about Emmaline, the elderly dressmakers’ young relative. The girl was supposed to be staying at the apartments above the Silver Strike Bazaar, with a governess, but she’d snuck out and showed up at the boardinghouse, saying she’d rather stay with Miss Minnie and Miss Millie. Since Emmaline was Jamie’s age, the grown-ups decided that she could go off to Clement Grammar with him while the question of where she would live permanently was decided. So he’d been pretty busy all week…helping the girl get situated.

  Emmaline was clearly very smart, but her mother had taught her at home. Since she’d never been to a regular school before, there were a lot of things he needed to tell her. Simple things like what the different bells meant, when it was safe to talk to your neighbor in class, and why raising your hand too often to answer questions was considered to be showing off.

  After school, he was kept busy helping her with her schoolwork. She had no trouble with the reading and math, but she didn’t seem to know the answers to any of the questions about American geography or California history. As a result, he’d had a great excuse to avoid conversations that might bring up the subject of Ian. Until now. He had to say something, or Kathleen would get suspicious.

  He knelt down to put on Dandy’s leash so that he wouldn’t have to look her in the face and said, “Was something silly I said. Ian’s usually so easy-going, I forget sometimes what it must be like not to have a mother…” He faltered, remembering that he’d heard that Kathleen was Ian’s age when their own mother died, leaving them with a drunken father. A father who died shortly after in some sort of accident.

  Kathleen touched his shoulder and said, “Shame on Ian if he’s played the motherless child with you. He’s got siblings, and aunts and uncles, and cousins galore. It’s not like you and your mother haven’t had difficult times yourselves. And when I think of poor Emmaline…” She sighed. “But I’m glad you’re going to go find him today. It will put my mind at rest to know he’s not sick or something. Miss Laura mentioned to me last night that he didn’t stop by the WCPU offices yesterday afternoon like he usually does to see if they had any deliveries for him to make.”

  “I suspect he was just too busy, miss. I wouldn’t worry. But I better be getting going. If I don’t catch him at the Chronicle offices, it’s going to be hard to find him before it gets light.”

  “You’ll take the North Beach line up Kearny, won’t you? I don’t like the idea of you wandering the streets at this time in the morning, even with Dandy for protection.”

  Jamie looked down at his dog with affection. With his squashed-in muzzle, slightly bulging brown eyes, and the very tip of his pink tongue sticking out, Dandy didn’t look like he’d be much protection. However, the terrier, small as he was, had the heart of a lion and surprisingly sharp teeth. He also had an uncanny ability to tell if a person was trustworthy or not, once single-handedly uncovering the misdeeds of a local neighbor. As a result, Jamie always felt more confident when Dandy was with him.

  Not dismissing Kathleen’s comment as a joke, he said, “Yes, miss, the car drivers are pretty good about letting me get on with Dandy, long as I hold him, and I’ve got a dime, enough for a trip there and back.”

  Kathleen went over to the hooks by the back door and took down the blue and white patterned scarf she’d knitted for him that matched the one she’d made for Ian this Christmas, putting it around his neck. “Here, it’s cold out there. And Dandy, you take good care of your master, and I’ll have a special treat for you when you get home.”

  Jamie stood next to the driver at the front platform of the North Beach and Mission horse car, Dandy held tightly under his jacket. The car had been surprisingly crowded when he’d climbed on board at Stockton and Geary, although he shouldn’t have been surprised, given that this route originated in the crowded streets south of Market where most poorer San Franciscan workers lived––the kind of workers who could be expected to start their shifts as domestics, janitors, street cleaners, and draymen well before dawn.

  As the car turned left onto Kearny, he looked with awe at the blaze of light coming from the Chronicle offices on the northeast corner of Bush. Not only were the top three floors of the building illuminated from within, but strange globes shown eerily against the darkened first floor of the building.

  “What kind of lamps are those? They’re so bright!” Jamie pointed, marveling at the way these odd round lights turned the night into day. He hadn’t even noticed them before, thought they were regular gas lamps…with more ornate posts. But no gas lamp he’d ever seen gave out this much light.

  “Haven’t you been in this part of town at night before, son?” said the driver. “Those are the new-fangled lights the de Youngs had installed…run by electricity. Spooked the horses at first, but I’ve grown to like how cheerful they make this part of the route. I wouldn’t want to be trying to sleep in any of the upstairs apartments across from the Chronicle Building, though, between the pounding of the presses and the lights that are on all night.”

  Jamie nodded and said, “I thought gas light was bright compared to candles and oil lamps…but those are like little suns. Do they have electric lights inside, too?”

  “That’s what I heard, but you best be getting off if that’s where you’re headed.”

  Jamie thanked the driver and jumped down onto the sidewalk in front of the Chronicle, walking swiftly along Bush towards Belden Place, where the newsboys would be gathered, waiting for their papers. He sure hoped he’d find Ian there.

  He’d not let on to Kathleen, but it seemed really strange that Ian hadn’t been by the WCPU yesterday to pick up copies of the Elevator to deliver. Miss Laura had been doing Ian a favor in recommending to her forewoman that she entrust Ian with delivering copies of this paper, which came out once a week and catered to persons of color in the city. Distributing a paper to people who’d already paid a subscription was a nice steady source of income for Ian since it meant he wasn’t risking his own money.

  There were always other boys who hung out around the smaller presses, looking for extra work, so probably Ian’s failure hadn’t been too much of a bother. Just wasn’t like Ian. Even if he’d been kept after school, which could happen if he’d skipped any more days this week, he would have stopped by to apologize. And he’d have to be really, really sick if he didn’t come at all.

  Jamie couldn’t help but think about the stories about newsboys who had disappeared as he put Dandy down on the sidewalk and ran down Belden, looking for his friend.

  Chapter 4

  Jamie slammed open the door to the boardinghouse kitchen and then paused, trying desperately to catch his breath. Dandy, who’d valiantly run most of the way with him, collapsed at his feet, panting in loud gasps.

  It was only a little after six, but there were already four people in the kitchen, and they all turned to look at him.

  Mrs. Beatrice O’Rourke, her apron neatly tied around her ample waist and her gray hair in a braided coronet around her head, was conferring with Mrs. Annie Dawson next to the pantry. The boardinghouse owner, a good head or two taller than her housekeeper, stood, perhaps unconsciously, with her hands placed protectively over her stomach.

  Kathleen, now dressed in her black uniform and spotless white apron, with her braid tucked up under a white cap, had been putting a plate of eggs and biscuits down in front of the young girl, Emmaline, and she frowned at Jamie’s abrupt entrance. Emmaline paused with a glass of milk in her hand, and her panicked dark blue eyes revealed how much of her true emotions she’d been hiding behind a calm exterior all week.
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  However, it was Kathleen who was the first to respond, running over to him and exclaiming, “Jamie, what’s wrong? Has something happened to Ian?”

  “Miss…I don’t know for sure. It might be nothing. But he wasn’t at the Chronicle.”

  Jamie took a deep breath and tried to sound calmer. “When I didn’t see him, I waited around until all the papers were passed out and asked the clerk if he’d seen Ian. He looked at his register and said that while Ian had been picking up the Chronicle every morning this week, he’d not shown up this morning.”

  “He’s been skipping school?” Kathleen’s tone shifted from fear to anger. “Wait until I get my hands on him. Probably decided he’s made his money for the week and slept in.”

  “I hope so, miss. Nevertheless, I thought I would go to a couple of the grocers and newsstands on Mason Street where he sells the Evening Bulletin. I mean, even if he’d not made it to Miss Laura’s print shop yesterday, didn’t seem likely he’d skip selling to his regular Bulletin customers.”

  Kathleen looked down at Dandy, whose skinny chest was still heaving, and said sharply, “What did you learn? You’d never push the pup that hard if you’d not heard something that scared you.”

  “Most of the shops were still closed this early, but one man was opening up. He said Ian hadn’t showed up with the Bulletin yesterday afternoon. It was after I left his store that I noticed a Chronicle newsboy, the one they call Scratchy, sort of skulking in the shadows. At first, I thought he was looking to see if he could poach on Ian’s route. I’d noticed him before, because he’s so young, leastways, he looks young cause he’s so small.”

  “But?”

  “But then he came up to me. Knelt down to pat Dandy, who gave him a lick on his hand, so I knew he was okay. He asked if I was taking over from the Professor…that’s what the other newsboys call Ian. When I said no, but that I was a friend and I was looking for him, he told me if I was his friend I should tell him he needed to be careful. A couple of the older boys were angry. Felt Ian had been trying to steal their regular morning Chronicle customers this week. Boasted that they were going to teach him a lesson. Could be these boys confronted him yesterday and he decided to skip selling papers today. But what worried me is that it isn’t like Ian to back down from a fight, and that maybe he’d been beaten badly enough he’d had to go home. And, if he didn’t come out to sell papers today…well, I thought you should know right away.”

  For a moment, no one said or did anything, and all Jamie could hear, beside the gradually slowing beat of his heart and Dandy’s panting, was the rising whistle of the kettle on the stove. Thankfully, Mrs. Dawson then took charge.

  As she crossed the kitchen to silence the kettle, she said, “Kathleen, you should go to your uncle’s, immediately. See if Ian is there. Make sure he’s all right. If need be, bring him back here straight away.”

  Turning to Mrs. O’Rourke, she said, “Bea, give Kathleen some of the housekeeping money…in case she needs to bring him back in a cab. No, Kathleen, don’t protest. Most likely you’ll find the boy in bed, asleep. But if he’s been hurt, you’ll want to bring him back here with you.”

  Mrs. Dawson paused, frowned, and then said, “Jamie, can you go with Kathleen? It’s still dark out, and I really will feel better if she’s got a male escort in that part of town. I will tell your mother what’s happened when she gets up. But leave Dandy here. We’ll take good care of him, won’t we, Emmaline?”

  Jamie nodded, and before he’d even caught his breath, he and Kathleen were out the door, heading back to the North Beach and Mission horse cars, only this time to head south.

  Kathleen and he stood before a three-storied residence that leaned tiredly against its neighbor. What had started out as a clear night with stars was now a cloudy early morning, with a chill wind hinting at rain later in the day.

  They had been able to catch a car going south as soon as they got to Market and Fourth by foot, and the car was only half full, so were able to get seats. Jamie figured most of the people who worked in the warehouses and factories in this part of town lived nearby, so they didn’t need to waste ten cents a day on transportation to and from work.

  As soon as the car took off, Kathleen had turned to him and said, “I can tell you are holding something back. I want you to tell me everything. I need to know what’s been going on.”

  So Jamie told her about how her Uncle Frank had been taking pretty much everything Ian earned and that his falling out with his friend had been over Ian’s decision first to stay late on Sunday to sell extra papers and then to skip school on Monday to sell the morning Chronicle. He told her he had the impression his uncle had started to push Ian to make more money.

  When he apologized for keeping all this from her before, Kathleen had shaken her head and said, “It’s Uncle Frank who’s to blame. Not you or Ian. But if I find out either of my other brothers knew what was going on, they’re going to be mighty sorry.”

  This block of Harrison, three blocks west of Fourth Street, was made up mostly of cheap, wooden three-story houses that had been thrown up quickly, with an occasional grimy plate glass window on the first floor that proclaimed some sort of commercial enterprise. The streets were narrower south of Market, with fewer gas lamps to penetrate the darkness. Since it had been a little after six when they left the boardinghouse, dawn was still at least an hour away. Yet many of the upper floors showed the glimmer of lights behind ratty, old curtains, including a window on the second floor of this building.

  “This where your Uncle Frank lives?” Jamie whispered, not hiding the surprise in his voice. Even in the half-light of the nearby street lamp, he could see that the gray paint was peeling in strips, the steps were cracked and dirty, and the front door was so warped it didn’t close completely.

  “Yes, my family moved into three rooms on the second floor in sixty-nine, right before my brother was born and about four years before my mother died. When my father passed on, his younger brother Frank moved in with his family. I thought at the time it would be good for Ian to stay with Uncle Frank because he was only four and at least the place would be familiar. Colin and Aiden moved out to live with my two other Hennessey uncles, Uncle George and Uncle Sean, and I went into service. Hard to believe the building was brand new in sixty-nine. Sure has gone down hill considerably. Looks to me like someone’s up, so let’s go on in.”

  As they fumbled their way down the dark front hallway, Jamie found himself pulling his scarf up over his nose. The interior was even colder than the outside, but mostly he was trying to ward off the smell, which reminded him strongly of an unventilated outhouse. There was a feeble bit of light coming down the stairwell, and following Kathleen up to the second floor, he saw this came from a flickering jet at the end of the corridor. Kathleen went down the hall to a door towards the front of the house and pushed her way in.

  Jamie started to enter behind her and then paused, knocked back by the sheer chaos of the scene in front of him. The room seemed to be both a kitchen and a laundry, and he guessed a bedroom as well if the two small lumps on a cot pushed up against the wall turned out to be sleeping children. There was a large tub of water boiling on a small oil stove, and clothes hung across lines strung from one side of the room to another. In addition, the table and chairs that took up the center of the room were stacked with piles of unwashed laundry. While the room was significantly warmer than the hallway, it smelled damp and mildewy, and he thought he’d be soaking wet if he spent anytime within its steamy walls.

  A small brunette with a pinched face and a softly mewling baby on her hip stopped poking whatever was in the tub with a long wooden paddle and snarled, “Well, if it ain’t my little niece. What brings you here?”

  “I’m looking for Ian, Aunt Fiona.” Kathleen snapped, “Is he here?”

  “No, he ain’t, and he was supposed to turn over his earnings last night but didn’t show. He knows the rent’s due today, probably lost it all playing craps and was afraid to sho
w his face. Believe you me, he’ll have some explaining to do when he gets home.”

  “Seems to me you and Uncle Frank are the ones who need to do the explaining. I give you money every week so you’ll take care of my brother, not so he’ll take care of you.”

  Kathleen pointed to a door beside the cot. “Jamie, would you go on through to the boys’ room, make sure Ian’s not there, while I have a little word with my aunt?”

  Jamie had never heard quite that tone of voice from Kathleen, so he quickly threaded his way to the door, ducking under the laundry, trying not to knock anything over. When he entered the next room, at first he couldn’t see anything, it was so dark. What he could hear was the sound of an adult man snoring, which puzzled him. Ian had told him that his two older cousins had already left home, so there should only be the two girls, ages eleven and twelve, probably the lumps under the covers in the front room, and the three younger boys, ages, nine, seven, and four, in the apartment.

  There was some light coming in from the adjacent building, and as his eyes adjusted, he saw that the room seemed entirely filled with two beds and a broken-down wardrobe, from which clothing spilled. One of the beds, a double with a headboard that matched the wardrobe, held a fully clothed man, from whom waves of stale alcohol blasted out with every labored breath. The other bed, a single mattress on a rusty iron bed frame, held three boys who were sitting up wide-eyed, looking at him, the youngest with his thumb planted firmly in his mouth.

  He crept over to the boys and said quietly, “Have you seen Ian?”

  The oldest shook his head.

  “When was he last here?”

  That seemed to confound them for a moment, until the older boy whispered, “Thursday night, late. He gave us some candy.”

  “I saw him yesterday morning, right before he left,” proudly piped up the middle child. “Mama wasn’t even up. Ian said I was to be a good boy and he’d get me something special.”