"But it's not going to happen again."
"Why not?"
"Why not? Because being involved with a man doesn't fit the life I've got planned. I don't want emotional responsibilities. I don't want children--" A memory of how Terrence Teller's tiny fingers had curled around hers emerged, and she quickly banished it. "I would be a terrible mother, so I'll never inflict myself on a child. And if I'm not going to have children, there's no reason to marry."
"Oh. Lulu, you have no idea! There are many reasons for marriage, and children are only one. Look at Soomey and Silas. They've never had children. Tony only lived with them sometimes. Mostly he stayed with Ma and Pa. Can you tell me that either one of them would be complete without the other?"
"They're different."
"Pooh! Any man and woman who marry simply to have children are cheating each other and their children. I never even thought about babies when I made up my mind to marry Luke. I wanted him. I wanted to be with him all my life, to make love with him, to sleep beside him and work beside him. The babies are wonderful, but they'll grow up and leave someday. Luke is my life."
"You're different too." Even as she spoke, Lulu knew she was clinging to a faulty hypothesis. "I can't imagine a man being at the center of my life. I'm perfectly content alone."
"Are you?" Katie stared at her until Lulu looked away. "I don't think so. I think you need a man in your life every bit as much as I do. Not to take care of you or support you. To complete you. To be the other half of your soul."
"Nonsense!" Lulu got up and set her empty teacup on the drainboard. "I think I'll go for a walk while the sun is shining." Moving awkwardly, she took a coat from a hook by the door and slid her arms into its sleeves as she went out. Only when she was striding across the barnyard did she realize it was one of the boys' and he had recently cleaned a chicken coop while wearing it.
She followed the road down to the river and walked along the bank on the path the children had worn. It led upriver to their swimming hole, an eddy where water swirled deep and clear, even now that the river was low. A rope hung from one of the cottonwoods and she imagined the children using it to swing out over the water as she and her brothers and cousins had done.
Someone had built a bench of a split log. She brushed the fallen leaves from the seat and sat down, staring across the river. A magpie squawked at her from a high branch. Overhead an eagle with a white head circled. She watched it for a few minutes, until its lazy circles took it out of her sight.
How she wished she could fly away like that. Fly off into another place, into another life, where everything was clear and precise. Where there were no questions pitting her heart against her intellect.
She and her brothers had been schooled by their parents until they were in their teens, when they went to Boise to school. Mamma's education had been exceptional, for her teacher for several years had been her godfather, Everett Hetherington, later the Earl of Heatherwood. Lord Heatherwood had seen to it that the Kings were supplied with an enormous library--literature, philosophy, natural science, and mathematics. Pappa, who hadn't learned to read until he was an adult, had devoured each book when it arrived, until he was, in her opinion, one of the most knowledgeable men of her acquaintance. Mamma had been more inclined to literature and the natural sciences, but she, too, was exceptionally well-read.
One of the ways they had spent the long winter nights in their isolated mountain valley was to have what Mamma had called 'deep philosophical discussions.' Someone would make a statement, treating it as a fact. The others would examine it from every side, following strict rules of logic and debate. No opinion was disregarded, even from the children. Sometimes, in fact, the younger children's questions had been more profound than the adults'.
She remembered one discussion, when Micah was about five. The others were debating weather, whether it was caused by the spinning of the earth or by the heat from the sun. Good arguments had been presented for either case, along with some outrageous ones. Then Micah had piped up. "What I 'ticularly want to know," he'd said, "is how come folks say the wind is blowing, when if it wasn't wind, it wouldn't be blowing?"
That had ended the debate for the evening. Micah still liked to remind the rest of them that he'd never received a satisfactory answer to his question.
She yawned. For some reason she was sleepy all the time. The sun was warm, the river sang a lullaby. She curled up on the bench and closed her eyes.
* * * *
After the fire, Tony had to find a new laundry, because Wang Chong had been burned out. By the time he got the line to Bullion fixed, he had a bigger bundle than he could carry on his bicycle.
Taking the wagon home on Monday gave him a chance to stock his larder, too, since he'd had little time to do so while he was making sure service to Bellevue and Bullion was working smoothly. Tuesday morning he drove to Yu Meng's Excellent Laundry with a small bundle of soiled shirts and a larger one of filthy work clothes.
"I need one of the shirts tomorrow," he told the elderly Celestial behind the counter. "There's no hurry on the rest."
The old man swept the bundles under the counter. "What you name?"
When Tony told him, he wrote some spidery Chinese characters on a slip of paper. "We do. Quick, quick." The man said. "You come two day."
"No, that won't work. I need one of the shirts tomorrow." He held up a hand with one finger raised. "One shirt tomorrow. The rest later."
More nodding. "Two day. Quick, quick."
Well, hell! "Okay. I'll be back in two days." He could wear this shirt one more day, he supposed, as long as he kept his coat on.
"You come morning. One shirt."
"You mean you'll have one shirt tomorrow and the rest the day after?"
"One shirt one day, all more two day." The fellow's smile indicated it was about time Tony caught on.
"Thanks," Tony said, as he turned to leave, feeling as if he'd made a fool of himself.
"Bukeqi, bukeqi. Xiexie, Nin. Mingtian jian."
Without thinking, Tony replied, "Xiexie, lao fuqin. Mingtian jian."
He was climbing into the wagon when he realized what had happened. He looked up the street and down, but saw no one close enough to have heard the exchange.
My God! What if...
He sat there, unable to function. Once again he was a small, helpless child, a defenseless victim. He heard the raucous laughter of the mob, smelled the sour odor of dozens of sweat-soaked bodies, of clothing unwashed for weeks. His scalp tightened as his queue was caught and he was dragged through the mud.
He saw the fist coming at him, just before his head exploded in a blinding pain.
"You sick?"
His vision slowly grew clear and he looked down at the Chinese laundryman who stood with one hand on the wagon seat. "What?"
"You sit here long time. Maybe you sick?"
"No...no, I'm all right. But thanks." He clucked to the horse. As he pulled away he heard the man say something.
At first the words made no sense, being an alien gabble. Then his mind translated, "No secret can be kept forever."
Oh, God, let it be kept long enough.
Chapter Ten
The massacre of the Chinese laborers in Wyoming is one of the crimes which disgrace a people, because it is due to the jealousy and hatred of a race. In excluding the Chinese from the country by law we have especially stigmatized them, and common decency and humanity should lead us to protect those of them who unfortunately happen to be among us, and whom the law shows that we wish were somewhere else.
Harper's Weekly - September 19
~~~
From mid- October until the middle of December, Lulu was so busy she hardly had time to think. Publishing a weekly newspaper was far more complicated than she had anticipated. Even though Lulu's role was that of coordinator, rather than publisher, she might have failed without the able assistance of the Duniway family, all of who were far more knowledgeable than she in what it took to accomplish the tas
k.
For the first time in many years, she found herself with time to play, but with little interest in doing so. Have I forgotten how? So one warm, sunny Sunday, when the maples on the hillsides were a blaze of gold, she went for a hike into the hills behind Portland. Although few trees had survived the loggers' axes, the native maples and seedling firs that had invaded the naked slopes showed promise of a new forest to come. She followed a well-trod trail up to an overlook, where she found a crude bench and a small, hand-lettered sign warning visitors away from a crumbling edge.
The sun was warm and the bench dry, so she sat and pulled an apple from her pocket. How strange it felt to have nothing demanding her attention, to have no place to be, no task waiting for her. Munching away, she felt her body relaxing. There had been few moments of such perfect peace in her life for a long time.
She yawned. The sleepiness that had plagued her for the past month had not, as she'd expected, gone away with days of rest and long nights of sound sleep.
She still believed it was the result of burning her candle at both ends. Sooner or later her body would decide it had slept enough and she'd be back to her usual energetic self. "I guess I've overdone it more than I realized. I'll have to learn to pace myself more."
Drowsily Lulu watched a crow flapping its leisurely way above the town. This place reminded her of the Aerie, the high, rocky outcrop overlooking Cherry Vale. She had spent many happy hours there with her brothers and the younger Lachlans. And Tao Ni--no, I've got to remember to call him Tony. From what some of her acquaintances had said, not all children got along as well as they had. She'd heard stories of terrible sibling battles, of jealousy, of families divided by resentment, by convictions of favoritism, and by pure orneriness.
"I don't remember a single time we didn't like each other, even when we were fighting." All of their battles had been quick, hot encounters, soon over, with the air cleared and strong friendships enduring. Even the summer the boys had decided to exclude the younger girls from their society had not damaged the abiding love they'd all had for one another.
She'd never doubted they would have pulled her out of the river before she drowned, even if Pappa hadn't intervened. Besides, they'd gotten even. She still hadn't forgiven them for cutting her hair off.
Nor Pappa, for refusing to punish them.
He'd decreed the score was even and no more was to be said. Of course, he'd also said they had to admit the girls to their fortress. Lulu had always believed he shouldn't have done that. It was like being handed a victory without deserving it.
Enough reminiscing! She'd vowed to think today about what she should do. If she stayed in Hailey, she'd be tempted to forget her goals again. Good grief! How many times, since that awful and wonderful night in September, had she found herself wondering if she could have it all. What if she could live the way she'd chosen, free of the bonds of marriage and family, and still have Tony as a lover?
Was this why chastity was so much touted? This hunger that a single taste of passion and its incredibly satisfying result aroused?
Surely the hunger would fade, with time. If she stayed away until spring, perhaps she'd be able to face him without wanting to lure him behind the nearest tree and have her wicked, wicked way with him.
Stop it, you shameless hussy! Your mamma taught you to be a lady! Even Katie would be shocked at the raw need Lulu still felt for Tony, more than a month now after she'd told him there was no chance for anything between them.
No chance? But... Stop this childish crying for the moon! You have a choice, Lulu King, and if you truly want to save the world, you have to make some sacrifices.
She buried her head in her crossed arms, unable to hold back the tears that came from her burning eyes. From her breaking heart.
After that day, Lulu made sure to have work to occupy her mind, even on Sundays.
Mrs. Duniway was full of praise for Lulu's work when she returned. "It was such a relief to leave The New Northwest in such capable hands. Now then, let us talk about what we'll do with you for the rest of the winter."
"Actually, I had planned to return to Boise for Christmas, and perhaps remain with my family for a while." Recently she had come to believe that there might be more to her lack of energy than simple exhaustion. Surely six weeks of regular hours and proper nutrition should have taken care of any lingering effects of a hectic summer and fall. She needed to talk to Katie again.
She said farewell to the Duniways a week before Christmas and boarded the stage for the long journey across Oregon. Although some snow had fallen in the Blue Mountains, her worst fears were not realized, and they got across without undue delay. Only as they descended the hill to Olds Ferry did the snow begin in earnest, and by the time the stage let her off at Nampa, there was half a foot on the ground and more in store.
* * * *
Tony had been too busy keeping the telephones working and getting the line completed to Ketchum to notice the ugly mood at first. There had always been those who spoke against the Chinese.
By the time Mr. Eagleton mentioned it, there was a strong swell of resentment and anger directed at the Chinese community. "Why are you telling me this?" he said, when Eagleton showed him the latest article in the Wood River Times.
Eagleton leaned back. "I'm a successful business man, Tony. I see opportunities that others miss, and I keep my eyes open for ways to get the advantage."
Tony nodded, having noticed Eagleton was often far ahead of others in seeing occasions and situations that might make him a profit. "But--"
Holding up a hand, Eagleton went on. "When you first walked in here, I saw there was something different about your looks. The spectacles are a good disguise. So is that little hint of Boston in your speech. I reckon you worked hard on that."
With the sick numbness of a trapped animal, Tony could only nod.
"A wise move. Anyhow, I watched you close, trying to see what it was that didn't fit. Never did figure it out. There ain't just one thing says you're Chinese, so most folks are going to take you at face value. You talk white, you act white. Best of all, you got a good Dutch name. Are you adopted? Or a half-breed?"
"A-a-adopted," Tony managed.
"Well, I don't reckon it matters either way. It's nobody's business but yours. And it doesn't matter to me. You're a good worker, and probably worth more than I'm payin' you. That's not to say I'll be giving you a raise, mind. Not yet. But as soon as we get a hundred telephone subscribers, we'll talk about it."
"Thanks." The word came out as a hoarse half-whisper. "Thanks, Mr. Eagleton," he repeated.
"Reason I showed you that article a while back is I don't want you blindsided when this anti-Chinese thing gets out of hand. And it will. It's already happening some places. Over in Washington Territory there's been some killings, and I heard last week a mob killed thirty or so Chinese in Rock Springs and run the rest out of town. The Army got called in to stop the riot."
"Great God!"
"Sooner or later it'll happen here. There's already bad feelings, as you can see from today's paper. When it gets out of hand, I don't want you in the middle of it. You don't have to pretend to like it, but you sure as hell can't speak out against any Chinese-baiting. Stay out of Chinatown and pretend you don't see anything that goes on there."
Having already made this choice a long time ago, Tony nodded. "It's none of my business," he said.
All the same, he couldn't help but wonder what Soomey would think. She'd kept her ties with the Chinese community, but had never forced him to do so.
* * * *
Not having seen a newspaper since she left Portland, one of the first things Lulu did when she arrived at the Savage Ranch was catch up on the news.. "Nothing like world disasters to distract one from personal problems," she said, opening the oldest paper in the stack Katie had kept for her.
"There's something positively unhealthy about your obsession with the news," Katie said. "As far as I'm concerned, if it doesn't affect me personally, I ge
nerally read the headline and skip the details."
"Anything that happens affects us all," Lulu replied absently, most of her mind on the article she was reading. She went on to the next, methodically reading from left to right, from top to bottom. "Oh, my God!"
"What?"
"It's spreading. Look!" She held out the paper, pointing to the article telling of an anti-Chinese riot in Tacoma, where several hundred people were driven out of their homes into a drenching rainstorm. The article didn't say what happened to them. She assumed the homes were burned, for that was the usual action of rioters.
"It's happening all over. Seattle, Alaska. Denver. Anywhere there's a big Chinese community. So far there's been nothing like that here, thank God." Katie laid the dishtowel aside. "Luke's waiting for me. Are you sure you don't mind cleaning up in here?"
Reluctantly Lulu put down the paper. "Of course not. And I'll fix supper, so take your time."
As soon as she had the kitchen tidied, Lulu went back to her reading. Melanie played quietly with her dolls, after Lulu promised her that tomorrow they would have a tea party, complete with fancy sandwiches. By midafternoon she was sick inside. Furious. And terrified.
At least the insanity hadn't spread this far yet. But it would, she was certain. She wondered if a disaster like the one in Rock Springs in September could happen here in Idaho.
Of course it could! Anywhere there's a Chinese community.
Once she had set the bean soup to warming, she went to Luke's office and built up the fire. By the time she heard Katie and Luke returning, she'd compiled a list of people to write to and had drafted a letter urging them to speak out against the Chinese persecution. We are dedicated to universal suffrage and equal rights for all Americans, whether native born or immigrants. We must make the public understand that actions against the Chinese today could lead to anti-Irish or anti-German riots tomorrow, she reminded them, citing the depredations visited by the Klan in south Carolina as examples of where such prejudice could lead.
* * * *
THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER Page 11