"You don't say, my boy? Well, I've certainly never seen or heard of any such machine here in town."
"Really, Mr. Von Rudolph? Because I could have sworn I saw you through the window."
Mattie sucked in a breath.
"What precisely are you trying to say, boy? I thought you said you'd come here to make a deal."
"I did, and here's the deal. You take me to the carriage house out back. Let me go through that old railroad garage on the other side of town. Convince me it wasn't your steam carriage, and we'll take your offer. We'll sell you the claim and leave Kansas."
"What of your brothers? Were either of them lost in the storm?" For a moment, Mattie thought perhaps her uncle was showing a glimmer of humanity, but his next words made it clear he was all business. "How can I take the word of the youngest, who may have no legal right to sell? Your oldest brother seemed quite determined to stay on the claim."
"My brothers are both alive, though William has a broken leg." Mattie exhaled a soft sigh of relief. She was not a murderer, at least not yet. The young man went on. "I've spoken with Jeremiah, the oldest of us. He's agreed to follow my advice."
"Very well, young Mr. Hamm. We'll take a quick tour of the carriage house and garage. When you're satisfied I have nothing to do with this mysterious steam carriage of yours, we'll settle our business."
From behind the curtain, Mattie's brow furrowed. She had expected her uncle to insist that the very idea of a cyclone machine was ridiculous. She'd expected him to give a dozen reasons why he couldn't give the man access to official railroad property, or at the very least try to delay any such inspection. The steam carriage was locked away in the garage workshop. There was nowhere else to hide such a thing. When they arrived in the garage, Uncle Otto's lies would be obvious. What was he playing at?
She heard the two men leave the room, headed towards the carriage house. If she were quick, she could slip out the back and sneak over to the garage. She could be hidden again before they got there.
She bolted through the kitchen door and out into the alley behind the boarding house. She managed to scramble down the alley without raising the attention of anyone but a few cackling hens behind the dry goods store. Her sturdy work boots kicked up a cloud of dust, but it would have a few minutes to settle before Elias and Uncle Otto arrived.
Mattie clambered up a rickety ladder onto a haphazard wooden storage shelf that covered half the garage. She tucked herself under a tarp next to a crate someone had pulled close to the edge. It provided a good vantage point, with very little chance of discovery. Even if they were directly below her, she could peep through the wide gaps between the wooden planks under her feet.
The waiting set her nerves on edge. Just when she thought maybe they weren't coming, the garage doors slid open and both men entered.
She heard her uncle ask Elias to go light the oil lantern, since it was getting dark. There was a huge, glowing coal furnace near the back of the garage, to run the forge and power some of the tools. But there were no windows and with all the machines and tools scattered throughout the space, it offered little illumination. Elias lit the lantern. When the light flared, it clearly revealed the dark hulking mass in the back of the workshop. The steam carriage wasn't even covered with a canvas or tarpaulin. As Elias lifted the lantern and turned towards her uncle, the garage door slid shut with a loud clang.
Highlighted in the lantern's glow against the inky backdrop of the door, her uncle pulled out a revolver. He pointed it at young Mr. Hamm's chest.
"Now, we will arrange a new deal, Mr. Hamm. And this time, I will be dictating the terms."
CHAPTER 6
Elias stared down the barrel of Von Rudolph's six-shooter, wishing he'd just taken Jeremiah's advice for once.
He'd brought the rifle, but instead of keeping it in hand the whole time, he'd hung it across his back. He'd worried about attracting the attention of the sheriff stalking through town with a gun in hand. It seemed like a bad idea when you were on a mission of possibly lethal vengeance. Besides, Von Rudolph had seemed like such a weak, dandified bureaucrat. He'd figured any fighting the railroad man needed doing was performed by a hired gun. He'd let himself get taken off guard, and now it didn't matter if the old windbag was a decent shot or not. If Elias reached for the rifle, Otto couldn't possibly miss at this range.
Whatever he'd said before coming, Elias had hoped it wouldn't come down to killing. He'd figured his meaty fists, and years of brawling with his brothers, would be enough to make Otto regret putting his family in harm's way. He'd imagined beating the man senseless, and then destroying the infernal twister machine.
Now he was in a sorry fix. The pudgy old man had hoodwinked him. He was used to getting into scrapes; he wasn't used to getting out of them without any help from his brothers. It was entirely up to him to figure out a way out of this mess.
If he wasn't likely about to get himself shot, it would've been the greatest moment of his life. He'd wanted excitement and adventure. It looked like he was going to get more than he'd bargained for.
"Alright, you got the jump on me, Von Rudolph. I can see your blasted twister machine in the corner. You planning on shooting me right here in town? I reckon even you'd have a hard time talking your way out of that. I saw the sheriff and a half-dozen townsfolk within shouting distance. Judging by the miserable offer you made for our land, I doubt you could come up with enough cash to bribe your way out of the hangman's noose."
"Rest assured, if I had to shoot you here and now, I could and would. You don't think I could kick your worthless carcass under one of these tarps? Anyone who came running, I'd just tell them I'd heard a strange noise, and misfired my pistol when I came in here to investigate."
Elias tensed a bit at that, but he figured as long as he kept him talking, he stood a chance of getting away.
"So why haven't you shot me already?"
"I'd prefer not to be that obvious. A man of my position has to make sure there's no chance of being implicated in any such sordid dealings. I can assure you, the railroad doesn't care what I do to accomplish my ends, but at the first whiff of scandal they'll throw me to the wolves. Why do you think I resorted to something as outlandish as this ridiculous machine to get you off your claim? Who could possibly believe I'd engineered a cyclone?" He nodded in the direction of the steam carriage.
"No, I'm not going to shoot you just yet, unless you make me. There are better ways to get rid of an enemy. Especially one known for getting into violent arguments with his brothers." Von Rudolph smiled. It was not a pleasant expression. "I think you are all about to have just such an argument this evening. Tragically, you'll end up killing each other in a drunken rage, most likely disputing whether to sell your worthless claim. It's a bit messier than my original plan, but it will have to suffice."
Elias felt all the color drain from his face, as he wondered what kind of madman thought blowing away someone's home with a whirlwind was less messy than a bullet to the chest.
"Seems like you've got this all thought out," said Elias, still stalling for time. Maybe if he convinced Von Rudolph he wasn't going to put up any resistance, he could wrestle the gun from him on the way back to the homestead.
"Indeed. Your corn-fed brawn might give you the advantage if I were foolish enough to let you get within arm's reach, but you are no match for my superior wit. I know you'll try to attack me the minute my back is turned. That is why you'll be getting into that storage cabinet behind you. My niece designed it to lock as soon as the doors close." He gestured to a heavy, ornate brass and steel cabinet with a door that was at least three inches thick.
Elias felt like a cornered animal who'd heard the cage door clank shut an instant after he'd backed into it. Why did he have to be so pig-headed? Jeremiah had tried to tell him to wait until they could go together, but he'd been hell-bent to get to the bottom of things right that minute.
"Now kindly grab your rifle, by the barrel, and lay it on the ground."
Since it was do as he was told, or take a bullet at point blank range, he dropped his gun. Von Rudolph waved him towards the cabinet. He stepped into it.
"Kindly shut the door, Mr. Hamm." Elias glared at him, but did as he was told. He heard the whirring of gears and the sound of tumblers falling into place. He heard the older man pick up his rifle.
"I shall have to leave you for a few moments, my boy. Getting that cabinet loaded onto a wagon will require the crane, so I'll need my niece's assistance."
He heard the door slide open and closed again. The cabinet was too narrow and shallow to allow him much movement, even if it hadn't been crowded with repair parts and tools. It was built like a coffin and dark as a tomb, which was appropriate since he'd most likely die in it. He had seen a set of tools hung from hooks on the side of the cabinet before the door had shut out every bit of light. He felt for a wrench, and started beating at the cabinet door, albeit with very short swings.
"Stop that! You're going to ruin my locking mechanism and then I'll never get you out of there!" A woman's voice, muffled by metal and tinged with a faint German accent, called out to him.
"Who's out there?" he yelled.
"Be quiet!" the hushed voice snapped. "The last thing we need is for my uncle to hear your racket and come back. We've little enough time as it is."
He heard the rattle of a key ring. A moment later, the thick iron door swung open. A dainty young woman in her late teens stood before him, holding the lantern and glaring at him with steel gray eyes. Her blond hair was plaited and twisted like a pretzel at the back of her head. She wore a men's striped shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and overalls covered in grease stains. He looked down and noticed the heavy boots she wore.
"Hey! I know you! You were driving that thing!"
Her hand reached up and slapped over his mouth. "I. Said. Be. Quiet!" she hissed, looking anxiously over her shoulder at the door. "Do you want to save yourself and your brothers?"
He nodded. Her hand never left his mouth.
"Do you want to hang for murder?"
He shook his head.
"Then do exactly as I say."
CHAPTER 7
"I know you're in here."
Otto's voice echoed through the dark garage, above the din of the steam carriage boiler. "The door was locked. If you think you can steal that steam carriage and get away, you're quite mistaken."
He lifted a lantern, scanning the garage. He couldn't see them. Night had fallen, and the gaslights of the main street were too far away to be of any use. The garage held deep shadows even the lantern couldn't pierce, at least not from the doorway. He took two steps forward, sliding the door shut behind him.
"Only two people held keys to the cabinet. I doubt you've the brains to know how to start the boiler on the steam carriage. So I suspect my worthless niece is also in here. Mathilde, come out this instant." He swung the lantern in a wide arc, but it still revealed only indistinct shapes and rusted machinery. "I cannot believe what an ungrateful wretch you are! After I took you in and raised you as my own child, to betray me for a stranger? It's unforgivable."
"You and I have different ideas of what behavior is unforgivable, Uncle." Her voice echoed through the garage. The sound bounced off the pieces of metal that hung all around. It sounded as though she was near the back, but it was difficult to tell exactly where.
"Where is the Hamm boy? I will kill him either way, but helping me might keep you out of the workhouse," he sneered.
"The Hamm boy is over here, you cowardly old blowhard," Elias called out from the darkest corner of the garage. They had to maneuver him into just the right spot.
"Brave boy. It's a pity you and your brothers couldn't see sense. It looks like I'm going to have to shoot you here, after all. You think you've helped yourselves by starting the steam carriage to confuse me, but the noise will cover the sound of gunfire nicely."
Otto stepped into the glow of the open furnace, brandishing the pistol. He raised the lantern to see into the corner where he heard Elias' voice.
Suddenly an earsplitting screech startled him.
A low-pitched roar filled the space, vibrating the tools and mechanical parts that hung from every rafter and beam.
Otto whirled towards the steam carriage. The fans spun wildly. Wind whipped the tail of his coat like tall grass in a Kansas gale. His beaver hat flew from his head, straight into the furnace.
The blazing coal furnace was right behind him, doors thrown wide. He could feel its heat, along with the swirling maelstrom building only feet away. The metal parts and tools hanging everywhere swung faster, clashing against each other. The rust and dust from the floor swirled, clouding everything in a red haze.
His polished boots began to slide backward across the dusty floor of the garage. He waved his arms madly, like a goose attempting to take flight off a lake. The wind lifted him. The toes of his boots scraped for purchase on boards worn smooth as kid leather.
Blistering heat from the furnace met violent air, spinning him like the wheel on an overturned wagon. He cried out, but it was impossible to hear over the cacophony of howling wind and rattling metal. The winds wrapped around him and he spiraled, screaming and flailing, into the furnace.
From the other side of the garage, Mattie dragged herself hand over hand against the wind back to the W.O.L.F.E. The nascent twister had flung her across the room. She'd only barely missed being skewered on a metal hook hung from the wall. Her braid had pulled free of its pins. It whipped in the wind like a rattlesnake striking. She finally managed to grab the kill switch and slammed it down.
The wind died instantly.
Elias dropped his arms, which had been wrapped around his head, and pried himself off the wall where he'd been pinned. He and Mattie staggered to the furnace. Her voice came out in ragged puffs.
"It seems . . . my uncle . . . has died . . . in a tragic . . . accident, ja?" She coughed up what seemed like a gallon of dust. Elias steadied her as she nearly fell over. Her eyes were red and streaming with tears. Whether it was from the dirt in her eyes, the relief of being free from her uncle, or the pain of losing her last living relative, she couldn't say for certain. It was probably all those things and more. The young farmer patted her back, coughing and hacking his own lungs clear.
"Terrible shame," he rasped, his throat still clogged with metal dust. "Too bad neither of us could reach him in time."
EPILOGUE
William was looking better every day. Elias suspected not hearing his brothers squabble constantly might have hastened his recovery. They'd finally settled their differences, he and Jeremiah. Although Elias never would like living in a soddy.
It was the middle of spring, and Elias was in the field with Job, the new farm hand. He was green as an onion sprout, but a quick learner. His father was a friend of their Pa's. The boy was determined to go out West. With five older brothers, his prospects were poor back home. The kid was already sweet on the daughter of the town's mercantile owner.
A letter from Mattie had just arrived the day before. He had it folded and tucked into his coat pocket. She said things were going fine out in San Francisco. She had been able to sell her devices at a good price as soon as she arrived in town. It seemed several folk shared her mistrust of machines powered by alchemy. They were happy to buy her simpler clockworks instead.
As promised, she'd disassembled the W.O.L.F.E. after arriving safely in the city in the steam carriage. She'd built other machines from its parts, none of which would blow a man's house down. Now she had rented some space in a warehouse. According to the letter, she was doing a brisk business as a tinker under the name Matthias.
Elias had a hard time imagining anyone would believe she was a young man, but she was determined to continue the ruse. Her time with her uncle had left her deeply mistrustful of others. If she felt safer posing as a boy, he supposed they'd both done worse things. Even now, he regretted the death of her uncle. He had been a madman, and would have killed them both and his
brothers besides, but they both still wished they could have found another way to stop him. He hadn't told Jeremiah or William the whole story of what had happened in the railroad garage. He doubted he ever would.
Soon, William would be ready to start working on the farm again. He and Jeremiah had agreed. Once Will was back on his feet, Elias would leave the farm. He planned to visit Mattie in San Francisco first. She promised to help him pick up odd jobs as a handyman or delivery boy, until he could find a steam ship willing to take him on as crew. According to Mattie, ships passed through San Francisco heading to and from every port in the world, from the far east to South America to Africa.
It was hard, dangerous work. He'd probably never get rich at it, but he didn't care. He was used to hard work, and he didn't figure anything would ever be much more dangerous than setting off a twister inside a garage full of sharp objects.
He was going to see the world, with his brothers' blessing. He thought of the pile of books Will had carried out from Philadelphia, and how disappointing his own life's story had seemed in comparison just a few months ago. When he came back to visit his brothers, he'd have plenty of exciting tales to share.
He couldn't imagine a better ending than that.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
It may seem silly to talk about historical accuracy in a story where people create tornados with a steam engine, but I wanted to let you know a few interesting bits of research I found in writing this tale. We're all familiar with the eclectic building materials the Three Little Pigs used in the original fairy tale.
Did you know that pioneers in the Great Plains really did build with straw? In fact, there's a straw bale church built in 1928 that's still stands in Nebraska. Unfortunately, one of the earliest straw bale buildings was a schoolhouse reported as being eaten by cows only a few years after it was built. The owners hadn't covered it with adobe!
Blowhard (The Clockwork Republic Series) Page 3