5
Charles sat at a desk in the corner, oblivious to the people conversing nearby. For all of his uncle’s talk about a rising star, Charles still merited little more than the cluttered desk of a junior attorney. He gulped down the last mouthful of coffee, the taste of the tepid brew not even registering as he flipped through the stack of legal briefs. He scratched down notes on a pad. How many questions could he ask before people pinned him as a fraud?
The words swam before his weary eyes. Charles dropped the papers into a stack and pressed the heels of his hands against his brow. He’d thought law school would prepare him for the job, but he’d learned more in the past six hours than during the last term at college. At least he’d only be observing during tomorrow’s cases. Perhaps after watching the other attorneys in action, he’d figure out the appropriate dance steps.
Uncle Silas and the other senior partner—Ambrose McClintock—had already gone home for the evening, but most other desks were lit, heads bowed over stacks of papers and books. Charles leaned back in his chair and glanced about. Didn’t anyone ever leave? A throbbing ache built behind his temples.
Charles swiveled the wooden chair and gazed at the man seated at an identical desk behind him. The heavy-set young fellow had slumped forward, bracing his forehead against his hands, elbows propped on the desk. With fingers hooded before his eyes, it was impossible to know if he was staring at the stack of paper or dozing.
“Excuse me?” Charles tapped the front of the desk.
The clerk jerked upright, a glazed expression on his face. “Ye-yes?”
Charles choked back a laugh. “I’m sorry. I’m new today, and I was just curious—how late does everyone stay?”
The man glanced around at the other desks. “Well, at least until all the partners leave. And Spencer—he’s the senior attorney, next up to be partner. You don’t want to be seen leaving before any of them.” He wiped a huge hand across his face as if to remove any spittle from his chin. “And you’ve got to wait for the lead attorney working on your case. After that, it just depends on how much you still have to do. But it’s important to look industrious, even if you finished up hours before.”
Charles grinned. “Is that what you’re doing?”
“I’ll never be finished. I’m the most junior man here—well, until you arrived, that is. Name’s Henry Thurber. What’s yours?” He stuck out his hand.
Charles shook it, the friendly welcome bringing a sense of ease. “Charles. Charles McKinley.”
Henry’s eyes grew large behind the round spectacles. “You’re the golden nephew!”
The serenity vanished like steam from a mirror. “Just because I share a last name with a partner doesn’t mean I’m anything special.”
“I beg your pardon, but I must disagree.” Henry straightened, running a quick hand down his shirt front and adjusting his tie. “That’s not what I heard. Talk in the office is your uncle’s got you on a quick road to partnership. No wonder everyone’s working so late today. They’re all waiting for you to go home.”
“For me? Whatever for?”
“You’re the next in line. What are you doing out here with the commoners?”
“This is my desk.” Charles studied the room again, noticing the furtive glances in his direction. “Is that unusual?”
Henry’s countenance relaxed a hair. He lowered his voice, leaning forward so only Charles could hear. “The old man’s got to keep up appearances, I suppose. Can’t move you to the private offices too soon. Wouldn’t be seemly.” He nodded, twirling a fountain pen in one hand. “I’ll give you three months before you leave the rest of us here in the sticks.” Ink splattered across his paper. “I’m just a clerk, anyhow. No partnership in my future, no matter how much I impress folks.”
Charles reclined in his chair, the reality of the situation tightening about his neck like a noose. How would he ever make friends if everyone had him pegged as a privileged creature? “Look, Henry . . . I don’t expect to be shepherded through the lower ranks like a crown prince or something. I aim to work my way up like any other fellow. How can I set everyone at ease?”
The man crumpled the ink-stained paper. “You could try going home, for starters.”
“How will leaving help my reputation? Won’t it make me appear a laggard?”
Henry chuckled. He scooped up a stack of files and jammed them into a case. “Tell you what. Let’s head down to the cafe and get a meal. Folks see you hobnobbing with the clerks, they might give you an easier time of it.”
Charles reached for his things. “For tonight, we’ll say you’re the boss. Let’s go.”
As he followed Henry down the long row of desks, all eyes trailed them. A few days and everyone will relax. I hope.
***
Late afternoon shadows wrapped the stocky building, odd bricks jutting out at irregular angles. Elizabeth ran a hand across the rough facade, clasping one of the protruding blocks. She drew a deep breath, willing her knees to stop trembling. This is the opportunity she’d hoped for, after all.
“They’re clinker bricks left over from the earthquake.” Ruby walked up behind her and slipped an arm around Elizabeth’s waist. “All around you in this city, you can see God bringing life from the ashes.” She gazed up at the Mission Home. “And He’s redeeming these girls from the ruins of their lives as well.”
Elizabeth clutched her case against her side. She understood ruined lives.
Her sister smiled. “I’m proud of you, you know that? Miss Cameron and the girls are fortunate to have you.”
“I hope I can live up to their expectations.” A cool wind swept down the narrow street. She didn’t even know what to expect of herself. If she were walking onto a stage, she’d understand how to behave. But stepping into a mission? Perhaps teaching was just a different method of performing.
“God knows what He’s doing.” Ruby gathered her in a half-embrace. “The events of the past few years taught me the importance of trusting in His plans—even when they seem a little off-kilter to our eyes. I know He’s brought you here for a reason. I can’t wait to see what it is.”
Elizabeth managed a nod. She already knew God’s purpose—a chance to make up for her mistakes. Why else would He put Miss Cameron in her path the very night she begged Him for direction? Elizabeth straightened her shoulders, strode up the steps, and rang the bell.
Her stomach churned as a few moments passed in silence. She glanced back at her sister.
The lock clicked, the door opening a few scant inches, dark eyes peeping through the crack. “Yes?”
Elizabeth pressed fingernails against her palm for courage. “Miss Elizabeth King—here to see Miss Cameron?”
The door swung wide, revealing a young Chinese woman, her dark hair swept up in a loose bun. A bright smile flooded her face. “Oh, Miss King. Welcome. Please, come in! I’m Kum Yong, Miss Cameron’s assistant.”
Elizabeth’s nerves fluttered back for a landing. She lowered her bag to the step. “My sister and brother-in-law are waiting with my belongings.”
Kum Yong hurried outside and greeted Ruby and Gerald. “Mrs. Larkspur, how good to see you again.”
Ruby’s face lit up as she climbed the cement stairs. “And you, my friend. Abby sends her love. She wishes she could be here.”
Elizabeth returned to the automobile as Ruby’s husband struggled to lift her small trunk from the rear compartment. “Gerald, let me help, please.”
A cockeyed grin crossed his face. “I’m not completely helpless, Elizabeth, but if you want to take one side, I won’t object.”
“I’m not helpless, either. Let’s share the burden, shall we?”
He touched the brim of his hat. “It’s what family does, right?”
They maneuvered up the steps, following Ruby and Kum Yong through the narrow entry hall. Their footsteps echoed over the wood floor. A spacious room filled with tables and chairs opened up to the left, a large upright piano tucked in one corner.
&nbs
p; Ruby glanced around. “Where is everyone?”
Kum Yong smiled. “At their lessons. All the girls are either studying in their rooms or attending classes. It’s a rare moment of quiet. You chose a good time to arrive.” She gestured toward a closed door off the entry. “Miss Cameron is meeting with one of the board members now, or she’d be here to welcome you. Perhaps you’d like to see your bedchamber first?”
Elizabeth smoothed her vest. After her long trip, she probably smelled like an organ grinder’s monkey. “Yes, I’d love to freshen up before I meet everyone.”
“I’ll take you up straightaway.” Kum Yong glanced at Gerald. “I’m sorry, Dr. Larkspur, but you’ll need to wait in the reception area. Men aren’t welcomed upstairs, in general.” She reached for the trunk. “I can help Miss King.”
He released the handle with a grin. “I see I’m not needed here.”
Ruby touched his arm. “I’ll settle Elizabeth in and be down in a moment.”
Elizabeth embraced her brother-in-law. “Thank you so much, Gerald.”
He smiled. “I hope we’ll see you at the house soon.”
The scent of fresh paint stung her eyes as they climbed the steep staircase, the weight of the trunk bumping her knee with each step. Kum Yong led the way to the last room on the right.
Elizabeth set the trunk beside the narrow bed. She straightened and glanced around the sterile chamber. A desk and a small bureau topped with a basin and pitcher took up most of the remaining space.
Kum Yong lifted the window shade, allowing a little light to filter into the room. “We haven’t had time to decorate. We’ve barely moved in ourselves. But the girls are all excited to meet you.”
Elizabeth stifled a yawn and leaned against the door frame with a sigh. “I’m just relieved to be still for a moment. I’ve been rushing from here to there since daybreak.”
Ruby squeezed her arm. “You must be weary. I’ll leave you to unpack. Besides, Gerald looked a little forlorn being left alone downstairs.”
“I’ll walk you to the door.” Kum Yong stepped into the hall.
After Elizabeth hugged her sister good-bye, she closed the door behind the two women and sank down on the bare mattress. The springs creaked, the sound loud in her ears. She unlatched the trunk and pushed open the lid, the scent of home bringing tears to her eyes. Ridiculous. She’d only been gone a few hours—why did it feel like a lifetime? How would she survive a whole year if her heart ached on arrival? Elizabeth drew out her mother’s quilt and pressed it to her chest.
God, how can I be so weak?
The door creaked.
Elizabeth hopped up. Had Kum Yong returned so soon? The door had only opened a crack. Maybe it hadn’t latched properly. She placed a hand against it, but met with a slight resistance. Elizabeth put her face to the gap.
A glittering pair of eyes peered back at her. After a quick blink, the tiny girl spun and raced down the hall, her feet thumping across the wooden floor.
“Wait,” Elizabeth called, her voice echoing along the corridor. “Don’t run off, please.”
The child turned, two braids hanging over her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to spy.”
Elizabeth beckoned her forward. “I don’t mind a bit. What’s your name?”
The girl approached, her steps measured. “Yoke Soo.”
“I’m Miss King. I’m delighted to meet you. I heard you sing in Sacramento.” Elizabeth pulled the door all the way open. “Would you like to come in?”
Yoke Soo’s eyes widened. “Into your room?”
Elizabeth stepped back and surveyed the tiny chamber. “It’s not much to look at yet, but I was just thinking how I might make it more pleasant. Maybe you could help me.” Her heart warmed as the child crossed the threshold. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so difficult. They were just children, after all. She shook out the quilt and let it fall across the mattress. “How old are you?”
The girl touched the quilt with a trembling hand. “Miss Cameron thinks I’m six, but she’s not certain.”
Elizabeth frowned. Not certain? She opened the trunk and surveyed the contents. Elizabeth drew out some embroidered handkerchiefs and handed them to the little girl. “Why don’t you spread one or two across the top of the bureau?”
Yoke Soo stepped close. “So pretty!” A smile teased at her tiny lips. She unfolded the cloth squares and arranged them on top of the dresser—two matching ones on each side, a different one in the center.
Elizabeth drew out a skirt and laid it across the bed. “Why don’t you hand me things, and I’ll find a place to put them away?”
The girl dug her hands into the chest and pulled out Elizabeth’s blue gown. Her fingers clutched the silk as it cascaded down like a waterfall.
“You like that one?” Elizabeth reached for the dress. “I made it myself. I’ll be teaching sewing here. Maybe I can teach you to make pretty things, too.”
Yoke Soo ran a finger along the embroidered bodice. “Mai Yoo had a blue silk dress when she came.”
Elizabeth knelt at the child’s side, trying to read her expression. “What happened to her dress?”
The little girl glanced up, the glossy blue fabric casting a pallor across her skin. “She didn’t like us. She went back.”
To the brothels? A prickle crept along Elizabeth’s back. “I’m sure she must have liked you.”
Yoke Soo’s lips pressed into a line and she shrugged. “Kum Yong said she missed her pretty things.”
“We all like pretty things. You wore a pretty red tunic in Sacramento.” Elizabeth eyed the child’s simple cotton shirt and loose trousers.
“Lo Mo says beauty comes from within. From Jesus’ love shining through us, like a lamp.” Yoke Soo’s cheeks pinked.
“Yes, well, I’m sure she’s correct. Must be why you’re so lovely.” Elizabeth couldn’t resist tweaking the tip of Yoke Soo’s nose. Elizabeth shook the wrinkles from the gown and hung it in the small closet.
Yoke Soo beamed and began removing garments from the trunk, admiring each one before handing it to Elizabeth. “You seem nice, for a teacher. I hope you’ll stay.”
At least she’d won over one pupil. “We’ll see if I meet with Miss Cameron’s approval.”
A sudden flurry of footsteps in the hall drew their attention. Yoke Soo’s face paled. A brown shirtwaist dropped from her hands. “Class is over. I should go.”
An older girl appeared in the doorway, brows drawn low over her piercing eyes. “Yoke Soo, you shouldn’t be here.”
Yoke Soo brushed past Elizabeth and hurried to the newcomer’s side. “I was just helping our new teacher, Tien Gum.”
The girl raised her head, pinning Elizabeth with a hardened gaze. “Teacher won’t want your help.”
“I beg to differ.” Elizabeth spoke up. “Yoke Soo has been quite helpful. In fact, we were just getting to know one another.” She stepped forward and clasped the edge of the door. “My name is Elizabeth King. I’m pleased to meet you.”
The girl snatched Yoke Soo’s hand and pulled her into the hall. “She’s not supposed to be upstairs during lesson time.” Her chin jutted forward.
Elizabeth sighed. “I see. But please, don’t blame Yoke Soo. I asked for her assistance.”
She strode away, tugging the younger girl behind her like a toy train.
Yoke Soo glanced back, her shoulders sagging.
Elizabeth waggled her fingers in farewell, earning a faint smile from her new friend. Hopefully, the girl wouldn’t get into too much trouble.
Students streamed up and down the hall, their chirping conversations dimming as they spotted the newcomer.
Elizabeth withdrew and closed the door with a gentle click. She should finish her work and dress for her meeting with Miss Cameron.
She lifted the last skirt from the bottom of the trunk—a green silk with pink roses. Her throat tightened remembering Yoke Soo’s reaction to the blue gown. Perhaps she’d best save the fancier frocks for times away from the Mission. She’d d
o her best to fit in, but if—like the child said—beauty was dependent on God’s light shining through, Elizabeth still had a lot of work ahead.
***
Charles shrugged off his suit jacket, the irresistible scent of roasting meat causing his stomach to growl like a wounded bear. He glanced around the corner cafe, the myriad of raucous conversations a welcome change from the quiet law office. “Not exactly a genteel locale.”
“Genteel?” Henry shouted over his shoulder. “San Francisco was founded by gold prospectors. If you want genteel, head east.” He ducked through the crowd, securing a table in the back.
Charles hung his coat and hat on the corner of a chair. “I guess I’ve not seen much outside the financial district.”
The man grinned, his round head bobbling on a short neck. “Time for some adventures, my friend.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Just keep in mind there are places to avoid, if you want to keep on your uncle’s good side.”
Charles sat back in his chair, smoothing down his vest. “Like where?”
Henry hitched an eyebrow. “Stay clear of the Barbary Coast and the Chinatown alleys.”
“Ah, yes. I’ve heard of such places.” Donaldina Cameron’s stories still haunted him.
“The bureaucrats did their best to move Chinatown after the quake, but no such luck.”
“Move it? Because of the vice?”
“I’m not sure they cared about those things, but the land down there’s worth a fortune. Or it would be, if they could wrest the property from the Chinese.”
Charles wrapped his hand around the water glass. “What happened?”
“The land the consulate occupied belonged to the Chinese government. They sent a delegation to the governor, vowing to move all Oriental trade to Seattle if the Celestials—the Chinese immigrants—weren’t allowed to return to their property.”
Through the Shadows Page 5