She went back to her room, only to find Rose sitting on her bed. “What’s new?” Violet said. Rose looked odd, even more otherworldly than usual. “You all right?”
Rose didn’t answer, but kept staring off into whatever she was seeing. “Rose? Do you need something?” Violet heard the thin panic in her voice and pulled herself inward. “Let me get you a glass of lemonade.” She turned to go, but Rose stopped her.
“No. Stay.”
Violet turned back to her. “What’s wrong?”
She looked at Rose’s gray eyes, and the centers were wide and black. Her breathing was shallow, and as Violet came close she thought her breath was strangely sweet. She reached out and put her hand on Rose’s shoulder. Rose’s scream pierced the air of the entire brothel.
“Rose! What in hell’s the matter?” Violet shouted, all control gone.
“They’re back…” Rose said, drawing her knees up under her dress and hugging herself.
Kate opened Violet’s door. “What the hell is going on here? Oh, it’s Rose,” she said, turning to the now shivering girl on the bed. Troy whined at her feet, and Kate put a hand down to stroke him, all while keeping her gaze on Rose. Behind her, Violet could see Lily and Sharon, peering around Kate to get a glimpse of the commotion. Neither looked particularly upset. Ghoulishly curious, thought Violet.
“Come, Rose. Let’s put you to bed,” Kate said, holding out her hand to Rose. Rose still shivered, despite the midday heat of June. “Now, Rose.”
Rose put her hand to her scar, stroking it lightly. “No.”
Violet watched as Kate reached down and lifted Rose into her arms, like a child. Rose turned her head to Kate’s bosom, buried her face in her breast. “Shhh,” Kate said. “Open the doors, Lily. Help me get her down to her room.”
They walked out without a word to Violet. Sharon closed Violet’s door behind her, leaving Violet alone to contemplate in wonder what had just happened.
* * * *
At least it was a Monday, Kate thought. The atmosphere at the El Verano Resort was uneasy. She’d left Rose in her room, knowing the spell would work itself out over the next several hours, and poured herself a good sized whiskey. Lily and Sharon had seen it before, and though no one liked it when Rose had her spells, they knew it was short-lived. Violet, still pale from the event, was quiet and skittish. Kate had spoken firmly to her, telling her that it was just “Rose’s way,” and that she should get on with her dressing. Although Violet had obeyed, her nerves were bad for business.
Kate sat at her little table, a glass of whiskey in hand, watching the room. The Victrola played a record of Original Dixieland Band, a choice Kate hoped to liven and soothe the jangled atmosphere. Doc Simmons, the Sonoma pharmacist, sat in the big armchair, reading the paper, while Reggie played a poker hand with Jonathan from the railway station. Lily, perched like a guardian angel, looked on. It was still early, not quite seven, when Caleb arrived. He never came on a Monday, but it was to see Violet, Kate knew, and for the moment she was glad. It would set Violet right to get a good spanking. Knock the spooked out of her.
Kate marked a drink on her pad for Caleb and watched the poker players dealing in the corner. Lily was laughing at someone’s joke, and Sharon was out on the porch enjoying the quiet evening. Rose would be sleeping by now, the worst of it over, and Violet and Caleb were setting up a rummy table. In a moment she would go out and get Sharon, have her join in a hand of rummy to keep the two from a tête-à-tête. The evening wouldn’t be a bank night, but Mondays usually weren’t.
She was surprised, therefore, when Moses came into the parlor. He normally stayed on the porch or in the kitchen unless something was wrong, and Kate was at attention immediately. He signaled her with his head, and she followed him out of the room.
“It’s Rose,” he said. “Come.”
Rose slept in the little room off the main house rather than in the house. She had her own entrance, a privilege in keeping with the sums she brought in, as well as a necessity for her own strange ways. Now as Kate and Moses approached the little door, Kate could understand what worried Moses. Troy paced back and forth in front of her door, his pointed nose pressed to the gap at the threshold. The sickeningly sweet smell that emanated from under the door was compounded with a metallic odor that made Kate gag. She turned to Moses. “Quietly.”
He nodded. He tried the knob, and as Kate expected it was locked. He took a long, thin knife from his boot and slipped the point into the lock. It clicked, and the knob turned. He opened the door slowly, as the smell hit them both. Again, Kate choked down her gag, and as her eyes adjusted to the gloom of the curtained room she pulled in her breath sharply.
Rose lay on the floor, naked. The room reeked of opium, and the tarry stuff was evident next to the pipe on the floor. But across Rose’s neck, along the scar, bright blood flowed down in a thin sheet, dripping onto her breasts.
Moses crossed the little room in two steps and pulled Rose’s blouse off the floor. He wrapped it around her neck, pressing hard. “She’s still bleeding, so she’s still alive.” He bent his shaved head. “And she’s breathing.”
“It isn’t spurting,” Kate said. He shook his head. “We need a doctor.”
She looked around for a knife, or whatever had done the damage, and saw nothing. Opium made a person lethargic, not violent, but with Rose, who knew. The door had been locked, so she must have done this to herself, Kate thought. Whatever nightmare lived inside of Rose made its regular appearances, but never like this. “I’ll hold the cloth. It doesn’t seem all that deep. Get Samantha and tell her to fetch Doc Simmons. He’s in the parlor.”
Moses nodded and was gone.
At least it’s a Monday, Kate thought for the second time that night.
* * * *
Kate didn’t look right, Violet thought when she saw her return. She had watched curiously when Moses came and got her, and was even more surprised when Samantha came in and spoke to the ruddy-faced gentleman who’d been quietly enjoying a whiskey and soda and reading the Expositor Forum, the local weekly news rag. Samantha had whispered something to him, and he’d immediately put down his paper, taken one long swig of his drink, and followed her out. Shortly after, Kate had come in, drying her hands. She was pale under her warm complexion, and her mouth was tight.
Violet considered going to her, asking what was wrong, but she’d been on the wrong side of Miss Kitty too often in the past week, and then, too, Caleb was here. She didn’t want to attract Kate’s notice to the fact that they had been playing the same hand of rummy for fifteen minutes, or that Violet hadn’t tried to entertain anyone else. Probably the less attention she attracted, the better.
Finally, at eight, Caleb rose and whispered the magic words to Miss Kitty. She nodded distractedly, made a note on her pad, and Caleb gave Violet a quick nod. She felt her pulse quicken as she led him upstairs.
She pulled a pillow over her mouth to muffle her cries, and when she came back down, Caleb behind her, both were much calmer. She watched him settle up with Kate, then walked him to the porch.
“Sit a while,” she said, indicating an empty rocker. Sharon threw her a quick glance and shook her head slightly. Violet pretended not to see.
Caleb sat. “Only a little while, Vi. I’ve got to be up early tomorrow. We’re putting the finishing touches on the Wingo, and I want to see it go up.” The Wingo, as Caleb had told her, was the railway bridge he’d had a hand in designing, and it was an amazing feat: a railway bridge that went up like a draw bridge, built over the dredged Sonoma Creek.
“You should get a photographer from the local newspaper to take a picture,” Violet said. “And a reporter to do a story. You could tell the reporter all about the design and even explain the four-engine dredge. ‘Does the work of a thousand men!’ the headline could read. And the subhead could say, ‘Engineer Caleb Houston watches as the new Wingo bridge is raised to let river traffic through.’ You’d be famous!”
They bot
h laughed, and Sharon rolled her eyes. “You’re such a bookish one, Violet,” she said. “Did you know, Caleb, that she spends her whole Sundays writing in her journal? I think she’s going to write a book about us!” Sharon let her hoarse laugh go and rocked back in her chair, but Violet did not join in. She sat frozen, watching Caleb’s face.
“Writing a book, are you?” he asked finally.
“Not at all. Sharon’s just teasing, like she does. I’ve kept a diary since I was twelve. You know how girls are. Just a place to write little poems, sketches, you know…” She trailed off. She had talked with Caleb about how she liked to write and how she’d had some stories and poems published but had been deliberately vague, and he’d not pursued the topic. They were far too busy talking about the work he did or doing the work she was doing now.
Sharon got up, and swinging her hips, went back into the house.
“I don’t care if you’re writing ten books,” Caleb said. “Sharon’s jealous, you know.”
Violet nodded. “Yeah, the penny dropped for me on that. She’s got nothing to be jealous about. I guess women sometimes just get that way.”
“I’d rather have an hour with you than a hundred hours with Sharon. She’s pretty, all right, but she’s got no spirit.”
“That’s funny. I would have thought Sharon was plenty spirited for you.”
“Maybe ‘spirit’ isn’t the right word. ‘Heart,’ maybe.”
“She had a real tough start in life. I think Miss Kitty’s the only mother she’s ever had, and the only loving she’s ever gotten is from working.”
“You’re a kind soul, Violet. You know, you’re something special. Well, I’d better be going. See you Wednesday?”
Violet smiled. “I’ll be here.”
He winked and jumped down the three steps off the porch. For a minute, Violet was completely happy.
“Violet, Kitty’s not gonna like it if you just sit here like a mooncalf,” Sharon said behind her. “You’d better get back in and earn your supper like the rest of us.”
Violet turned and looked up at Sharon standing behind her. “Don’t be angry with me, Sharon. I’m not shirking.”
Sharon seemed momentarily disarmed by Violet’s humble response. “All right, but if you make Miss Kitty mad, we all have to bear it, so try to be a little less stuck on Caleb Houston.”
“I’m not stuck on him.”
“The hell you aren’t,” Sharon growled. Her composure fading, she stood over Violet, who went still in the rocker, and put her hands on her hips. “I heard what he said. ‘Better an hour with you than a hundred hours of Sharon.’ You don’t come from the streets. You’re doing this for fun, but the rest of us are working for a living and don’t appreciate you waltzing in here and taking Posie’s old spot and then not doing anything to make the place lively. You don’t realize it, but you sitting on your can, or upstairs snuggling with Caleb makes for an empty parlor, a dull card room. Every girl’s got to pull her weight, not just for her own gents, but for all of us.” Sharon was out of breath when she was finished.
Violet stood up, knowing she towered over the girl. “Well, you were on the porch for almost an hour this evening, so how is it that I’m the one not pulling my weight?” Violet snapped.
Sharon’s face grew hard. “I am on my period, so I can’t work. There ain’t enough customers for me to be pouring drinks. So I can’t earn anything tonight unless it gets lively enough that the gents start buying us drinks. And Rose must be sick again, so that leaves you and Lily, and she gets her curse about half a day after I do. She’s in there working her poor twat off, and you’re upstairs mooning over that blond roughneck. This ain’t a party, girlie. If you want to go to a party, go back to your society friends and your trust fund!”
“I don’t have a trust fund. I’m living on what I earn, just like the rest of you,” Violet said, but Sharon had already gone inside.
A moment later Moses stepped out onto the porch. He stood facing Violet, a step too close. She stepped back. “You get your ass inside and get to work. Miss Kitty don’t need no cat fight tonight, and you better not start one, or you’re gonna be getting a hiding from me that won’t be the start of anything fun. Now get.”
Violet swallowed the taste of sand, turned, and walked back into the parlor, her hands shaking and a smile plastered across her face.
* * * *
Kate could hear Sharon and Violet squabble. That was not to be tolerated. She sighed, wondering if the moon was full. Sharon had her period, which meant that Lily would be next, and of course Rose’s spells were far more likely at that special time of the month. Kate gave the girls the first day of their period off from whoring, but they still had to work at making the parlor lively. Violet hadn’t been at the house long enough to get in schedule with the other girls, so she would be the main whore for the next couple of days, and Kate didn’t want her walking around with a sour face and a chip on her shoulder. She rose to get Moses to put a stop to the nonsense when she saw Sharon stalk back into the parlor.
As the door shut she heard Moses’ voice, low and menacing. He was on edge too, after Rose’s injury, and he would take it out on Violet. Well, let him. She’s got to learn sooner or later. She nodded to Sharon, who had poured herself a whiskey in a cordial glass, and stood sipping it at the side table. In a moment Sharon’s color returned, and she made her way over to the poker players. “Deal me in, gentlemen. I’ve got a hankering for a game!”
Violet was next, with a foolish mask of a smile. Kate rose. “Violet, I was just thinking of something. Samantha’s out on an errand for me at the moment. Could you go to the kitchen and fetch a tray with some nice sliced peaches for us? It’s so warm tonight, a little refreshment would be nice.”
Violet looked at her gratefully and went back out the parlor door. A task would give her a chance to compose herself properly. Any man who saw her with that horrid smile would run a mile in the opposite direction. Kate had to wonder, not for the first time, if she’d done the right thing by taking her on, principles or no principles. But with Posie gone, Rose out of commission, and the other two on the rag, this was no time to be picky. As soon as Violet returned with the peaches, she would have to go check on Rose. Doc Simmons was discreet, but he was also an apothecary, and would know opium the moment he smelled it.
* * * *
Gold came bouncing into the card parlor about nine. Violet had just prepared the fruit tray and followed a few steps behind him into the room. Thin, wiry, with his black hair slicked back and his large brown eyes shining, he took Sharon and Lily’s hands and bent over each, kissing them lightly. Both girls giggled, and he smiled a wide grin back. “Am I too late for a card game? I am dying for a card game with my beautiful girls,” he said in his heavy accent.
“Never too late,” Lily smiled. “Are you dying for a drink, too?”
“But of course,” he said jovially.
“What’re you so excited about?” Lily asked, handing him a short whiskey.
“Oh, nothing. Just everything is going my way for once.” He knocked on the bar. “Where’s my tall dolly? The one with the black hair and the big tetas?”
“There’s two like that,” Kate answered from across the room.
“Oh, my beautiful Spanish Kitty, of course. If I was looking for you, I would have said, ‘Where is the gorgeous madam of the house, commander in chief?’”
“Commander Kitty! I like that. But here’s your dolly, with the big titties. You’ve got to learn to say ‘titties,’ not ‘tetas!’”
“Oh, but all the workmen say ‘tetas.’”
“That’s cuz it’s Spanish for ‘titties,’” Sharon said.
“Aha! Thank you, lovely Sharon.” Turning back to Kate, he said, “Well, since you are Spanish Kitty, I will say ‘tetas’ for you, and ‘titties’ for my tall giantess of a dolly. Violet, how are you, my mountain of titties woman?”
Gold had them all laughing, and Violet watch
ed as Kate headed out of the parlor as soon as Violet was seated at the card table. She picked up a deck and started dealing a rummy hand. Two young men, strangers to Violet, had been flipping the cards and betting on the positions of their landing, and they joined to be dealt in. Sharon stayed at her poker game, and Lily quickly tossed back a whiskey as soon as Kate walked out and winked at a short, older gent, who escorted her out of the room. As Lily walked past Kate’s abandoned note pad she reached down, without breaking her stride, and made a mark on the pad. Kate would know to charge her gentleman at end of the month.
Violet won the first hand, and the second as well. “You’ve got luck on your side tonight,” Gold said. He knocked three times on the table.
She smiled. “Superstitious?”
“Careful,” he corrected. “Tonight, things are good. Tomorrow, you never know.”
Someone had put an opera on the Victrola, and Gold listened for a moment. He put his head back and closed his eyes, and in a moment began to sing with the tenor. The room activity stopped as he sang, his rich voice making syrup of the Italian. Then he stopped, smiling. “That Mister Caruso is a master. Now, do you think Miss Kitty can spare you for a bit? I don’t see her, so I cannot ask her.”
Violet shook herself free of the trance his singing had brought. “That’s quite all right,” she said. She had just seen Lily handle the same situation. “I will just leave her a note letting her know where I am.”
She allowed Gold to lead her from the room, stopping to jot a note on the pad. As she looked up, she saw Sharon watching her, eyes narrowed. Violet hesitated. “Come, my mountain woman. Let me bury my face between your titties!” The room’s laughter accompanied her out the door.
Upstairs, Gold was undressed even as she untied her sash. “Off, off, off!” he said, encouraging her to speed up her undressing. He was fully charged as soon as she was naked, and with reverence, he put action to his earlier words.
The Harlot’s Pen Page 12