“And what if the money has blood on it? Someone has to be at the bottom to support this lifestyle.”
“All money has blood on it. Read the works of Darwin, and you will understand, the fittest, the strong will rule over the weak. There will always be a hierarchy of life. I would prefer to be at the top, not the bottom.”
“And if there was another way?”
“I haven’t found it, nor has anyone else I know of.”
All this talk was much too profound for Helena, she longed to go back to her simple life before Minnie had started this whole mess. She held up the cork, inspecting it like a precious stone, her one of only two clues that had led her nowhere.
“What do you have there? A keepsake from tonight?” Suttor asked.
“Hum? Oh, this is just an old cork that has told me nothing.”
Adolph reached for the cork, taking it from her hand. “I don’t know about ‘old cork.’ I believe it is one of mine,” he turned the cork over in his hands inspecting it in the dim light.
Helena suddenly excited, “Why do you say that?”
“Most vintners label their corks to advertise, the corks stay around as the bottles are reused. I demand all my corks are not labeled. I rename our less expensive bottles with our label. I don’t want a conflict of advertising we also have two vineyards providing the same wine. Most people can’t tell the difference between the two lowest bidders.”
“So that means Missy visited here, or in the vineyards.”
“You mean Missy Whitaker, of the Nob Hill Whitakers?”
“Do you know her?”
“Of course, I know her or more precise her father. I’ve seen her here for many years, her father used to bring the family here for Sunday afternoon tea.”
“So, if you haven’t seen her in a long time why would she keep a cork from the Cliff House?”
“If half of what I’ve learned about the girl is true, she has some problems adapting to adult life. Gossip has it, she was running around with the lowest sort of people. Somehow, she had gotten it into her head that she needed to save the destitute. Be damned her family and her community,” again, he pointed into the room full of people dancing in tuxedos and pastel evening gowns. “Like I said everyone needs a community, those people in there are Missy’s community. It never pays to turn your back on them.”
“But she’s gone missing, I think her whole family might be missing, I don’t think a soul cares.”
“Only in so much that it could happen to them. If Missy became involved with the wrong sorts of people, she put her family in all kinds of danger. If she had stayed in line, she wouldn’t have gotten herself into trouble. If by some remote chance she did find herself in trouble, the police would’ve found her in an instant. Helena, you must understand the police are hired and paid to protect your community, and you. If you are kicked out of the tribe, or you turn your back on them, you won’t find much help. I’m sure Missy found that out, I’m just sorry her family had to find out as well.”
Helena wasn’t sure what Adolph tried to say, but she wasn’t too keen on it. It stung to hear the words, but she listened all the same before asking.
“You have no idea why Missy would keep a cork from your restaurant?”
“No, I’m sorry. This cork isn’t that old, I can smell a fragrance from the wine. Maybe search the wineries, perhaps you will find the connection there.”
“You’ve been so kind, thank you for all your help. Would you mind giving me the names of the wineries that used that cork?”
“Certainly, the first is a group of Catholic monks that live north of Oakland, on the river, once you reach Martinez, everyone knows where the Brothers are located. The other you will need to take the ferry over the river and continue up to a little place called Napa Valley. In the Valley, you will find a group of women whom oddly enough call themselves the sisters though they are not affiliated with any religious institution I know of. I hope this information proves fruitful.”
Helena held her hand out for the cork Adolph had somehow forgotten to return.
“Certainly, my dear, I hope you find what you’re searching for. Just remember the people in your community, your tribe is there to help when you need it.”
After handing the cork back, Adolph used his cane to rise off the bench. “If you’ll excuse me, dear, the night air has begun to cut through my old bones, I’m going to join our people in the ballroom.”
“Thank you for everything. If, if you don’t mind I would like to come back and speak some more about my parents.”
Adolph stopped and turned looking back at Helena. “My dear you are welcome at the Cliff House anytime.”
Helena scrutinized his receding back until her eyes caught Sigmund standing next to the doorway patiently holding two drinks. The old man nodded to her bodyguard before passing into the warm brightly lit ballroom.
“Did you have a nice chat with Mister Suttor?” Sigmund asked handing her the drink she previously needed so badly.
“He came out of nowhere like he knew I was going to be out here alone.”
“The Cliff House offices are down that way. Not that mysterious Mistress,” Sigmund motioned the way the old man had walked from. “He probably came from checking on something in the office on his way back to the party when he happened to find you.”
“Sigmund, why is it that everyone knows who I am?”
“San Francisco is a sizeable city, but the circles your mother and father ran in are substantially smaller. Your parents had been acquainted with many of the people in that room. They haven’t seen you for many years I’m sure they’re curious about you.”
“Tell me again why my stepfather thought it was such a good idea to keep me in seclusion for so many years.”
“You have seen a small part of how harsh life can be in our city. Ten years ago, it was even worse. I don’t know what Mister Suttor told you, but those people in that ballroom are not your friends. Any number of them would trample your fallen body to beat you in a race. Your mother and father learned that your grandfather and your great-grandfather were experts at that game.”
“Right now, I don’t know what I’m supposed to believe. All I know for certain is tomorrow we need to go to Martinez and look up some winemaking brothers. Then we travel to Napa Valley and meet some winemaking sisters. I just hope Missy is all right, she sounds like someone I would really like to speak with.”
“I truly hope you find your chance.”
“Tonight, I think I’ve had enough excitement, can we find Lane and return home? I am exhausted.”
Helena took a sip of the drink that Sigmund had offered her, had she taken a moment to look at the glass she would’ve realized it was a champagne flute, filled with champagne. It wasn’t like she had never had alcohol before she basically wasn’t expecting it. Once her coughing diminished, the pair walked into the ballroom and began the search for Lane.
Helena said, “We should check the hors d'oeuvres that’s probably where he is, as close to the food as possible.”
“That is a wonderful idea, but the waiters are circulating with trays. He could be anywhere,” Sigmund replied.
“I saw him speaking with a woman right after we arrived, maybe they are still together.”
“After what happened at the Seattle club I doubt he would risk making the same mistake twice. However, we shall assume for a moment that Lane did not learn the error of his ways, so we shall go back to the beginning and learn what we might discover. Where did you last spot him?”
“At the top of the stairs before you threw me to the wolves, and made me walk alone,”
“Interesting, let’s go see if we can retrieve the wayward Lane.”
Sigmund parted the crowd clearing the way for Helena to follow behind. They didn’t need to climb the stairs to locate Lane, he leaned against the floor post eating a handful of canapés.
“I figured this would be the best place to find you
two. Where d'you get off to anyway?” Lane stuffed a whole hors-d’oeuvre his mouth after finishing the sentence.
“I had an audience with the Count. Then I had a lengthy discussion with Mister Suttor.”
“Oh my, putting on airs, now aren’t we?”
“Remember your place, Lane.”
“Yes, sir,” Lane did his best to finish his snack while brushing the crumbs from his lapels.
“You get Bessie, time we head home, there is a full day planned for tomorrow,” Sigmund said as he guided Helena to the stairs.
Brothers of Martinez:
The start of the new day found Helena in the kitchen eating with the staff again. Today she didn’t dress as a man, but she decided it best to be asking questions as a young woman. She hoped that people might find it tough saying no to a fragile young woman looking for a lost friend. She felt she had to try something different.
Miss Andrea made her a substantial breakfast of pancakes. “These will stick to your ribs. I’ll fetch you a basket so you and those two fools keeping you out of trouble won’t starve.”
Before long the seven workers that ran the estate moved out of the kitchen. Leaving the long family style table to start their jobs keeping the property going, leaving the two women alone.
“Miss Andrea, do you think people should stick with their own kind?” Helena asked.
The cook continued her prep work, busying herself stuffing the basket, adding some cloth wrapped fried chicken before speaking, “Honey, that’s not an easy question to ask. I don’t know if it’s my place to tell you what I think.”
“Miss Andrea, you’re probably the oldest, sorry I mean the wisest woman in this house. You are the only woman I can talk to besides Gertie, and the two Chinese girls and they’re not much older than me.”
A frown spread across Andrea’s face as she thought, “If your parents were here, I would say, you should do as they wished. I think you should do whatever makes you happy. Just understand that no matter what decision you make, someone is going to be angry about it. Some of those people, you shouldn’t mind what they say. Some of those people will support you, some of those people will try to tear you down. That’s going to happen no matter what you do in life.”
A frown spread across Helena’s face. She had asked Miss Andrea for advice, and she felt like she got a politician’s doublespeak. Rather than vent her frustration she politely said, “Thank you, Miss Andrea,” she bundled up the basket and left the kitchen for the driveway.
Outside she found Lane and Sigmund facing each other, bodies tense as former soldiers can be. Helena couldn’t hear what they said, and they stopped speaking before she got close enough to evesdrop. Both faced her, anxious smiles on their faces.
Sigmund broke the strained silence, “Already to go?”
“I think I am. Is everything all right?” Helena asked.
“We were just discussing the best route to reach Martinez,” Lane suddenly said.
“Yes, I wanted to make sure we went the quickest route,” Sigmund said, reaching for the basket that Helena carried.
Helena gladly gave the heavy basket over, miss Andrea packed enough food for an army. “That’s wonderful,” Helena didn’t believe either one of them for a second. Not waiting for anyone to help her she climbed into Bessie’s backseat.
Nothing more to say Lane jumped in the driver’s seat, adding fuel to Bessie’s fire. Sigmund expertly tied off the basket in the boot. He joined Helena in the rear seat, and they headed off.
The trip to the San Francisco ferry terminal was uneventful. The streets were full of carriages and pedestrians all dressed in their Sunday finest heading to church. The ferry building itself, just as crowded, families loaded into wagons escaping the city for the day, traveling to places like Goat Island, Marin, Oakland, and many other destinations on their list. Lane and Sigmund had decided to bypass Oakland and its clogged docks, instead opting for the less used San Pablo ferry.
After securing Bessie on the lower level with the carriages, horses, and cargo being transported, the trio went above decks to enjoy the rare sunshine.
Helena felt a gap developing between Lane and Sigmund. Perhaps it had always been there, she was just not intuitive enough to recognize it. Helena wasn’t sure, but something happened, the last few days seemed to drive a wedge between the two men. She didn’t dwell on the subject, they were both much older than her, and if they couldn’t work their problems out, she wasn’t going to jump between them. Instead, she decided to enjoy what might’ve been her first ferry ride. She thought long and hard, and she could never remember being on a ferry before, or a boat or ship. It came to her, the astounding realization she lived in a city surrounded by water on three sides, and she never remembered being on the water, and here she stood not just on a boat but a paddlewheel steam-ferry.
The natural scenery flowing past was beautiful, but she found herself drawn to the mechanisms moving the craft through the water. Helena wanted to get closer and inspect the pistons as they drove the side wheel, but the spray and splashing of the ocean water kept her at bay. There was no way she was going to get wet in her powder blue summer dress.
The day seemed to drag on. The ferry was much quicker than going all the way around the south side of the bay, but it still seemed to take forever. The group had to wait for many carriages to be moved before they unloaded.
“The city really needs to consider building a bridge from San Francisco to Oakland,” Helena said impatiently waiting for their turn to exit the ferry.
Lane scoffed, “It’s too far, no one would ever be able to build a bridge that distance, and who would be fool enough to ever use it?”
“Lane, you really should read more. Haven’t you heard about the Brooklyn Bridge in New York City? If New Yorkers can do it, I’m sure Californians can do it probably in half the time and for half the cost,” Helena admonished him, “Think of the time it would save.”
Lane shook his head, refusing to argue with the child. Sigmund, unsure what to do lightly tapped Helena’s knee like a man patronizing his daughter. The whole incident infuriated Helena. She decided to stay quiet for the rest of the ride to the Christian Brothers.
They drove through vineyards long before they reached the monastery. Helena perceived everyone as they passed followed their progress. A few men in what looked like coarse brown robes crossed themselves as the trio drove by. It wasn’t harvesting season, but several workers still moved about, some dressed as monks, some Mexican, and a few Chinese. However, it would’ve been difficult distinguishing between them had it not been for their distinctive clothing and hats. Helena thought: Is that all that really separates us is our superficial outward appearance, our facade?
They crested a small hill and below in the Valley Helena viewed the monastery though it looked more like a farm or ranch than a religious order. Except for the stone church, and its three-story tower with the cross on top dominated the buildings, the rest being single-story wood and adobe structures.
Bessie pulled up as a large group of brothers left the chapel. The men stared slack-jawed, Helena had a hard time deciding if they gawked at Bessie or her. She noticed she was the only woman in a sea of brown robes.
“I say, good man, we would like to speak to someone in charge,” Sigmund said.
Three or four of the men closest to the automobile remain silent while pointing to the church.
“I guess we should go into the church. Lane why don’t you stay with the automobile to ensure our audience remains at a distance,” Sigmund said scanning the small crowd gathering.
“Sure, I’ll keep Bessie warmed up and ready to go. This place kinda gives me the creeps.”
Sigmund offered his hand for Helena to climb out of the back of the auto which she ignored getting herself on the ground.
He shrugged and motioned for Helena to take the lead, bowing as she passed, falling in three steps behind her.
Approaching mid-morning, He
lena felt the heat rising on the east bay. However, when she walked into the stone church, the temperature dropped ten degrees. There was an odd, earthly chill in the air. Her footsteps echoed slightly on the stone flags, her heels, and cane clicking, then reverberating through the empty chamber. She could see a gray-haired man praying at the altar, either the back of his head shaved or inexplicably bald in a perfect circle. Helena stopped a few paces before reaching the praying man. His eyes remain closed ignoring her approach. Helena still in a foul mood tapped her cane on the flagstone three times attempting to get the monks attention, she failed.
Sigmund’s right arm reached to touch Helena’s elbow trying to stop her. Before he could, Helena cleared her throat loudly.
“Excuse me sir, but we’re in a bit of a hurry,” Helena said forgetting all decorum.
Sigmund stopped reaching for Helena’s arm and rubbed his forehead then straightened his hair.
“This place is nowhere to rush about Miss. Unless it is harvest time,” the monk spoke with a soft Irish accent while he moved from kneeling to standing in one fluid motion, his flexibility fantastic for the age he appeared to be. He turned to face Helena, somehow, he had moved to within a foot of her. She had to force yourself not to take a step backward.
“Now what can this humble servant of our Lord do for you, young lady?”
“My name is Helena Brandywine. I am searching for a lost friend,” Helena blurted out.
“I am Brother Murphy. I’ve been blessed as the head brother of this monastery. I will do whatever I can to help you.”
Helena swooned slightly, “I’ve had such a difficult journey, I am a little lightheaded, may we sit down?” Helena began moving to a pew.
“Of course, we can, at times I forget my manners, we seldom receive female visitors,” the old brother sat next to Helena in the pew. Sigmund set four rows back letting Helena take the lead.
“I have been looking everywhere for my friend I was told she might be here.”
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