THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER

by Judith B. Glad

  At first she found enough to occupy her days. She wrote, answered the few letters that arrived, and sewed. Regina hated needlework of any kind, and her mending had piled up shamefully. Lulu found such work soothing, and spent many peaceful hours darning socks and resetting sleeves. Curiously, her mind, usually busy as her hands, stayed almost blank, drifting from memory to memory, as if incapable of generating new ideas.

  After a week, replies began arriving to her letters about the persecution of the Chinese. Most of the early replies came from individuals who believed the Chinese issue was none of their concern, and a few even took Lulu to task for equating it with the slavery that had existed before emancipation. A few heartening responses arrived, but not many. The more replies she received, the more sick at heart she became.

  Many contained reminders that the Chinese, unlike freed Negro slaves, were by law aliens and not entitled to the same protection as citizens. One writer cited the Chinese Exclusion Act, claiming that the Chinese were in the country illegally and should be deported. He obviously had forgotten that any Celestials who had been in the United States before November, 1880, had a legal right to remain. Another expressed wonder that Lulu would even ask for assistance in combating such a just and Christian goal as ridding the United States of the heathen Chinese.

  With each letter, Lulu grew more dismayed. People whom she had considered sincere and committed humanitarians were proving themselves just as bigoted as anyone wearing a white hood and robe. When no new letters had come for several days, she sorted the ones she had, pulling out those inviting her to address an organization, or agreeing to speak out for the Chinese. The rest she tossed into the fireplace. As she watched them burn, she asked herself if anything she had ever done had mattered.

  Once I thought I could change the world, and now I know it doesn't want to be changed. The status quo is far too comfortable. Unutterably tired, she laid her head down on Uncle Emmet's desk and wept.

  When she heard Regina come in the back door, she forced herself to sit up and wipe the dried tears from her cheeks. Her body, stiff from sitting on one position for so long, protested when she arose and walked toward the kitchen. "I'm sorry. I fell asleep and forgot all about supper."

  "It doesn't matter. I'll scramble some eggs and you can make toast. We don't need more than that anyhow." Regina tied an apron over her plain gray dress. "I haven't much appetite tonight. I've been correcting tests since three o'clock, and came straight home." Regina usually stretched the mile between her school and the house into a five-mile walk.

  "That's right. You did say you were giving your natural history students a test today." Lulu pulled the part-loaf of bread from the breadbox and set it on the cutting board. "Do you enjoy torturing them like that?" Having spent much of her childhood following Regina as she collected birds' eggs and pollywogs, flowers and mushrooms, Lulu felt some sympathy for her students. Not everyone was as fascinated with plants and animals as Regina thought they should be.

  "Every young woman should know something of the world she lives in. And not just politics and history."

  Since this was an argument they'd had many times, Lulu merely grinned. "Don't cook more than two eggs for me. I'm not particularly hungry either, and I want to go to bed early tonight."

  "Oh?" Regina glanced at her. "You look terrible! What's the matter? Didn't you rest well last night?"

  "Not really." She turned away, not wanting those too-sharp eyes to see how melancholy she was.

  "I know it's none of my business, but is something on your mind? You seem to have lost all your interest in life."

  "I'm fine," Lulu said. "Honestly. I just let myself get run down, with all the traveling I've done. Once I can stay in one place for a while, I'll catch up."

  "I hope so." Regina's tone said she had some doubts.

  She didn't catch up. In fact, every morning she woke up feeling more tired than she had been the night before. After a while, she found writing too much effort, so she set the two articles and the one story she was working on aside. Often when it wasn't snowing, she walked down to the river, less than a mile away, and simply sat and watched the water flow. Toward the end of January, the weather turned bitterly cold, so she stayed indoors, and some days, in bed. No matter how efficient the fireplaces and stoves in the big house were, there were still icy drafts one could not escape.

  All the while she thought about the letter she should write to Tony. She wrote it in her mind again and again, arranging and rearranging the words until they refused to fall into any sort of sense. What could she say? How could she tell him he was about to become a father? And when she told him, wasn't he likely to go all old-fashioned on her and demand that she marry him? When she refused, he'd make a fuss, and then the whole family would know.

  And they'd all insist on a wedding.

  "I don't want to be married," she said aloud. "I don't want a baby."

  How much longer could she hide her pregnancy?

  * * * *

  WOOD RIVER TO BE RID OF THEIR HATEFUL PRESENCE.

  That was the headline in the January 19 edition of the Wood River Times. Tony read the article through for the fourth or fifth time, still shaken by the vituperative temper of it.

  Despite Mr. Eagleton's advice, he hadn't attended the meeting at the Hailey Theatre last Saturday. His excuse was the snowstorm that had all but blocked the roads outside of town, but he knew he could have come in had he been determined.

  His real reason was that he'd been afraid.

  If Mr. Yu had recognized him as Chinese, how long would it be before others did?

  Once more he read the resolution passed by the newly-formed Anti-Chinese League.

  Whereas, the presence of the Chinese upon Wood River is a standing menace to American labor, and no trade or calling is secure from this deadly touch: they bar every avenue of approach and like Jack Frost, creep in unawares, and blight and wither by their breath the fairest fruits of American industry; as a people, they contribute nothing to the welfare, prosperity or happiness of any community in which they reside. We believe that, when Chinese labor shall be supplanted with white labor, business will naturally improve and the wealth and population of our country increase...a determined effort is being made all over the Pacific coast by the various communities to rid themselves of the burdensome presence of the Chinese...immigration to Hailey must cease, and that the Chinese already here be instructed to wind up their business and prepare to remove from amongst our people...

  Some of the men quoted in another article advocated violence. One of them was Patrick Newell. Fortunately wiser heads prevailed. The resolution called for peaceful and lawful means to accomplish its goal. According to the paper, there had not been a dissenting voice when the question was put to a vote.

  "Would I have voted for it?" he wondered aloud. "Am I that craven?"

  He honestly didn't know.

  Mr. Eagleton, who had attended the meeting and, presumably, been among those approving the resolution, said nothing in the days to follow. It was as if their earlier conversation had never taken place.

  The Chinese New Year celebration took place the last week of January. Tony stayed as far away from it as he could, and welcomed the opportunity to go to Ketchum for several days to replace subscribers' batteries and to sign up new customers.

  When he returned to Hailey, he learned that the Chinese community had apparently accepted their fate. On February 4, the paper informed its readers that most of the Chinese in town would be leaving, now that their New Year celebration was over. In a way he was sorry. It was a shame bigots and blowhards could win so easily.

  * * * *

  "Where is she?"

  Katie? What's she doing here? Lulu set the book she'd been pretending to read aside. She listened to rapid footsteps on the polished maple floor of the hallway and wished she were somewhere else. She sounds angry.

  The door burst open. "Why are you still here?"

  Lulu had long since learned that the
only way to deal with Katie's temper was to meet it with calm and sweet reason. "Right now I'm trying to read this book. But if you mean why am I staying here in Boise, it's because I choose to. Your mother has always said I'm welcome anytime, for as long as I want to stay."

  "The weather's been cold and clear for a week. The trains are running. Abel will take you to Nampa any time you ask him. Why are you still here?" Her voice rose to a near shout on the last word.

  "I told you." Lulu heard her voice tremble. "There's no reason for me to go to Hailey. I can work just as well from here."

  "Have you told him?"

  Lulu got up and went to close the door. Mrs. Petrie wasn't a gossip, but still, there was no sense in inflicting this argument on her. She turned, standing with her back to the door. "No, I haven't told him. I tried to write, and just couldn't find the right words. So I decided to tell him in person. But there's no hurry. His knowing won't make any difference."

  Katie's mouth worked. For a moment Lulu wondered if she was about to fall down in a fit. "No difference?" she finally gasped. "You think it will make no difference?" She lowered herself into a chair. "Luella Marie King! I am ashamed of you. I'm not sure I want to claim you as family, if you don't know why you should tell Tony he's going to be a father."

  "That's not what I meant! He does have a right to know, and I mean to tell him. But I don't see what difference it will make when I tell him. It's not as if we're going to get married, or anything."

  "Are you planning on keeping the baby?"

  "I don't see that I have any choice. But how is another matter. I can't seem to think of any way I can work and make a home for a child. I've got some investments, but they aren't anywhere near enough to live on. And my income from writing is too uncertain." Tears clogged her throat, and she swallowed hard. Lately everything seemed too much for her, as if she'd lost all her strength of will.

  "Tony will help you."

  "No, he won't! I won't take a cent from him. The last thing I want to do is give him a say in my life." At least she was still strong enough to resist the temptation to lean on him.

  Katie looked at her for a long time. "I can understand that, although I don't agree. All right, let's do it this way. You go to Hailey and tell Tony. Face to face. Tell him how you feel, and what your plans are--"

  "But--"

  Holding up a hand, Katie went on as if Lulu hadn't tried to speak. "Tell him what your plans are. You'll have time to make some, while you're on your way there. And then the two of you agree on how you're going to handle being parents. What you decide is your business, as long as you can come up with something reasonable."

  "But--"

  "I'm not done. I'll give you a week. You can leave for Hailey tomorrow. If I haven't heard that the two of you have come to an agreement a week from today, I'll write to Tony and to our parents. It's up to you." With those words, Katie pushed past Lulu and left the library.

  Much as she wanted to beg Katie to let her handle everything her way, Lulu knew she'd waited too long for that to be an option. She followed Katie down the hall, reaching the kitchen in time to see her mounting one of Luke's big riding mules outside the back porch. She must have ridden in from the ranch just to talk to me.

  Katie looked up just then and caught Lulu's eye. She raised one brow.

  Lulu nodded.

  Katie returned the nod and spurred the mule into a canter. In a few moments she'd disappeared up the road to town.

  Lulu went out to the barn to ask Abel to take her to the depot in Nampa tomorrow. On the way she looked up at the sky and wondered if those high clouds presaged a change in the weather. I sure hope it doesn't snow.

  * * * *

  Tony was in the Eureka Meat Market when a woman said from behind him, "Is that Mr. Dewitt?"

  He turned and saw the elderly woman who lived next door to Lulu. "Yes, it's me. I'm sorry. I don't recall your name."

  "Oh, that's all right. Some days I can't either." Her chuckle invited him to share the joke. "It's Graham. Ethel Graham. I'm a widow woman."

  He smiled. "How are you, Mrs. Graham? Getting through the winter all right?" His question was a common one in Hailey. With snow higher than the eaves of most houses, some of the older folks were having trouble getting about.

  "I'm doing just dandy. My nephews--Ward Hickson's boys--come over every day to make sure I've got firewood and water. They brought me downtown today. Pulled me along on a sled, nice as could be."

  "You let me know if there's anything I can do," he said. He was one of several young men about town who'd taken it on themselves to see that paths were shoveled for those who couldn't manage for themselves. Just now he was picking up a meat order for Joe Davis, who'd fallen last week on a slick step and broken his leg.

  "Oh. I'll be fine. I'm glad I ran into you though. I wanted to tell you that your friend, Miss King, won't be back for a while yet. I got a telegram from her this morning. She's visiting family, over in Boise."

  Aware that his feelings about Lulu's return were mixed, Tony said, "Do you know if someone's keeping an eye on her apartment?"

  "Oh, my nephews and I take care of everything, seeing as how I'm right next door. I just thought you might want to know why she hadn't come back, you being a long time friend and all."

  "I do, and I thank you. I'm off for Denver tomorrow--a matter of business. I expect to be back somewhere around the middle of the month. So if she returns before I do, please tell her I'll call on her when I can."

  So Lulu's coming back. God! I wish I didn't care.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The train left here Saturday afternoon, ran down toward Silver Creek, but was compelled to return to Bellevue, where it lay at noon today, awaiting the opening of the road. As the snow-plows are said to be on the main line of the Union Pacific, trying to keep that line open, it may be some days before any can be spared for the Oregon Short Line, and it is, therefore, hardly probable that a train can get here before Wednesday.

  Wood River Times

  ~~~

  A seasoned traveler, Lulu rolled a quilt around a warm sweater, an extra shawl and a pair of wool socks. She tied it with twine and made a loop so she could carry it across her shoulder. With a package of raisins in her pocket, she was ready for almost anything a winter journey might involve.

  Twenty miles east of Nampa, the snow began. A cold wind found its way through every crack and cranny of the railcar. By the time they stopped for water and coal at Hammet, her quilt was wrapped around two small children whose parents clearly had no idea of the rigors of rail travel, and her shawl warmed the shoulders of an elderly woman whose threadbare coat had done little to protect her from the bitter cold. She had kept her socks, so her feet, at least, were warm.

  The train was nearly nine hours late arriving at Shoshone. Wearily Lulu gathered her belongings, the book she'd tried to read, the folio filled with letters half written and the articles she'd been unable to concentrate on. The woman wearing her shawl was bound for American Falls, so Lulu's conscience would allow her to retrieve it, but the children needed her quilt.

  Aunt Hattie made that quilt for me. I can't leave it behind. Tears threatened to choke her, tears that had come all too readily these past few days. What is the matter with me?

  She went to Mrs. Littleton and explained.

  "Why of course you want your quilt," the old woman said, as she unwrapped the shawl. "I'll be fine. My boy will be waiting for me, and he'll have the sleigh piled high with buffalo robes and whatnot." She bustled up the aisle behind Lulu and made sure the two children were bundled tightly in the shawl.

  Guiltily, Lulu took the quilt and rolled it up for carrying. Before she got off the train, she dug into her pocket for the raisins, which she gave to the children.

  The first person she saw as she stepped down from the train was Tony. Ignoring him, she went into the waiting room and chose a seat as far from the door as she could. Half a dozen people were there, most of them sleeping. Shortly after the eas
tbound train departed, Tony came and sat beside her.

  "I'd prefer to sit alone," she told him.

  "Too bad you're not going to. I want to talk to you."

  A numbing sense of inevitability swept through her. She closed her eyes and leaned back. There was no place to go, no place to hide.

  Tony had seen her step off the railcar. She had looked so exhausted, so worn, that he'd almost left her alone. But he was tired and hungry and had no more patience. She'd run from him in September--almost five months now, and refused to talk to him at Christmas. It was time they cleared the air. He knew they'd never go back to where they were before...before September, but he still...oh, hell, he still loved her.

  If she couldn't love him back, maybe they could be friends. He'd hate to lose that, too.

  "So talk," she said. The way she was sitting, shoulder hunched like a barrier between them, he was certain she had no intention of listening to him.

  "What was bothering you at Christmas, Lulu? You seemed to be doing your best to make everybody as miserable as you were. "

  "Nothing was bothering me! I just felt like you were chasing me."

  "Chasing you? When I was invited? Oh, wait a minute. You asked them not to invite me, didn't you? You were going to tell them what a bastard I am, and how poor little you were the victim of my lust. Is that it?"

  "No! Oh, Tony, no. I just didn't think I could bear--"

  "Could bear the sight of me?" His voice was low, controlled, but it cut at her like a skinning knife. "I'm not surprised. It might remind you you're not the icicle you pretended to be. Great God, Lulu! They're my family, too! I hadn't been home for Christmas in six years. And you wanted me to stay away? Just so you wouldn't have to remember what a terrible mistake you made?"

  "That's the biggest pile of bulls...nonsense I've ever heard."

  Her muttered words couldn't be what they sounded like. So astonished that she'd not lashed back at him, he could only say, "I beg your pardon?"