THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER

by Judith B. Glad

  Just as Newell sank to the floor, the big man grabbed Tony again. Lulu dashed across the room and snatched the sword from the small man's thigh. He screamed, a high, thin sound. Holding the hilt in both hands, she ran at the big man and drove the long blade into his back, just below his ribs.

  She was surprised at how easily it sank in.

  He toppled, like a great tree falling, wrenching the sword from her grasp.

  Tony was crushed under him when he landed.

  For a moment, Lulu feared she'd stabbed her husband as well as his assailant. Then she saw him move, pushing free of the dead weight that held him to the floor. Immediately she went to help him. Together they moved the inert hulk, until Tony could roll away from it and push himself upright on one arm.

  Lulu knelt beside him. "All that blood? How badly--"

  "I'm all right," he gasped. "At least I think I am." Swiping the back of his hand across his forehead, he smeared blood from eyebrow to scalp. "Nothing fatal anyhow."

  "Let me see!"

  "Let's check these fellows first. We don't want them waking up and surprising us. Give me a hand, will you?" he said, as he held out his hand.

  She pulled him to his feet. Together they went to where Patrick Newell lay completely still against the wall. Lulu knelt, put her fingers against his throat. Felt nothing. "I...Tony, I think he's dead."

  "Well, hell! I didn't mean to kill him. But he rushed me, and I--"

  "You had no choice." Privately she mourned, not for Patrick Newell, who had gone beyond the bounds of sanity in his quest for revenge, but for Tony, who would have to live with the knowledge that he'd killed the man with his bare hands.

  "What about the others?"

  Lulu stood beside Tony when he examined the big man. He lay in a pool of blood that spread even as she watched. She set her hand on the sword hilt, meaning to pull it out.

  "No," Tony said. "Leave it in. It may be stopping some of the bleeding." He didn't sound as if he believed himself. "Ring up the switchboard. Tell Eph to get a doctor and the sheriff here as soon as possible. I'll take care of the other one."

  Lulu obeyed. Eph wanted to know what was going on, but she said, "Mr. Morton, I will tell you everything when the emergency is over. Right now a man's life may depend on you. Please do as I ask." She disconnected. "How is he?"

  "He'll limp for a while." Tony finished wrapping a strip of cloth around the small man's thigh. He almost smiled. "More scared than anything, I reckon. Not much of a bad man."

  "I'm going next door. Something tells me Mrs. Graham didn't go anywhere."

  "Wait! Don't go alone!"

  Although she was certain that any danger to herself or Tony had died with Patrick Newell, Lulu obeyed. Tonight had taught her just how precarious life could be. Instead of Mr. Newell, the dead body in her parlor could be her husband.

  Or herself.

  The door was locked, and there was no answer to Tony's knock. They went around to the back porch, where Lulu knew Mrs. Graham kept a key concealed in a stack of flowerpots. She held a candle while Tony unlocked the back door. They crept inside the dark kitchen, tiptoed into the parlor. No sooner had they entered than they saw Mrs. Graham, tied to her favorite rocking chair. A faded red bandana served as a gag, cutting cruelly into her withered cheeks.

  "Look for Xi Xin." Quickly Lulu removed the gag and untied her elderly landlady. "Are you all right, Did they harm you?"

  "No," Mrs. Graham quavered. "But Xi Xin? They took her into the other room. Did they--"

  "No, I don't think they took the time," Tony said, as he emerged from the smaller bedroom, the bound Chinese girl in his arms. "But I'll bet they were planning to come back later."

  "Oh, yes, they told us just what they were going to do to her. And to you." She blinked, as if just now realizing who her rescuers were. "Land's sake, how did you get away from them?"

  The explanation had to wait, because they heard the sound of a buggy in the street. Mrs. Graham and Xi Xin went with them to meet Dr. Lewis because Lulu insisted that both should be looked over to make sure no harm had come to them.

  The rest of the night was chaotic. The doctor finally left about ten, having pronounced both Newell and Harry--nobody knew his last name--dead. Lulu's desperate sword thrust had, in Dr. Lewis's opinion, opened a large vein in Harry's abdomen. "Even if I'd been right here, I doubt I could have stopped the bleeding in time to save him," he told Lulu, his tone sympathetic.

  She was icy cold and sick inside. "I didn't mean to kill him."

  "Silas once told me there's no such thing as dirty fighting. There's fighting to survive, and there's playing around," Tony told her, as he pulled her into a close and comforting embrace. "Tonight we were fighting for our lives. Remember that, Lulu. They'd have killed us without compunction."

  "I know, but..." She knew she'd have nightmares about tonight for a long time. But she had no regrets, for she would be alive to have those nightmares.

  The sheriff's opinion was that both Lulu and Tony had done what was necessary to protect themselves. "I'm satisfied," he said, once the doctor had gone. Deputy Goode had taken the small man who still refused to give his name off to jail. Two other deputies had loaded the bodies into a wagon and taken them to the undertaker's parlor.

  "I'm not," Lulu said. "Frank Correy and Mr. Newell were all but inseparable. I'd like to know what his involvement in this was."

  "He was sitting in the saloon when I left there," Tony said. "I don't think he had anything to do with tonight's events. Frank's a good man at heart. I think Newell used him."

  "Let's make sure. I'll talk to him," the sheriff said. "You two come by tomorrow and we'll write up a report for my records."

  Once everyone had left, it was close to midnight. "Oh my, that was exciting," Lulu said to Tony as she closed the door behind the sheriff.

  "I'll take boredom any day," he told her, pulling back against him and enfolding her in his arms. "I've had enough excitement tonight to last the rest of my life."

  "More than enough," she agreed. "From now on let's agree to live a staid and lackluster life, and leave the excitement to those who enjoy it. Like Buff and Gabe."

  Privately she wondered if she meant those words. Somehow she felt more alive tonight than she could remember feeling in her entire life.

  As if reading her mind, Tony said, "There's nothing like surviving by the skin of your teeth to make you appreciate being alive, is there? Silas told me, but I'd never experienced it until tonight."

  * * * *

  Monday morning Tony received a telegram from the manager of the Boise Telephone Company. CAN YOU START IMMEDIATELY STOP HEAD ENGINEER POSITION WAITING FOR YOU STOP REPLY SOONEST STOP.

  Since he and Lulu had already agreed on the move, even if he didn't get the job, he went into Eagleton's office and laid the telegram before him.

  Eagleton read it. "Well, now, I reckon you'd better git while the gittin's good. You're fired, boy." He winked. "Pack up your things and go."

  On his way home, Tony drove by the telegraph office. His hand shook as he printed the message. TOO LATE FOR TRAIN TODAY STOP WILL ARRIVE BOISE WEDNESDAY STOP AVAILABLE THURSDAY STOP.

  At least they didn't have much to pack.

  * * * *

  Early in June, Lulu found a letter from Miss Petersham among her correspondence. When she'd finished reading it, she folded the single sheet and breathed a small sigh of relief. The sheriff had cleared Frank Correy of any involvement in Patrick Newell's schemes to first discredit and then destroy Tony as revenge for his father's death in the Sagacity River Bridge failure. Frank claimed, and everyone believed, that he had been an innocent accessory to Newell's masquerade as a carefree young bachelor, without a serious thought in his head.

  When she was putting the letter back in its envelope, she realized that another paper was inside. It was an editorial from the Wood River Times. Quickly she skimmed it.

  ...no man worthy of American citizenship will attempt to compel another to do anyt
hing...Is this a free country? If it is, others are as free as you are yourselves. But all must obey the laws, as liberty without the law is simply license. With the law persons, property--all are safe. Without the law, all are unsafe....The Times is and has always been anti-Chinese, but it will not uphold a conspiracy to injure any man's business.

  Leaning back in her chair, she read the editorial again, and as she did, she smiled. The Chinese had won. Oh, it was a small victory, but she was certain they would stay in Hailey and other Wood River communities and be allowed to live in peace.

  With enough such small victories, the world could be changed.

  Epilogue

  It is in the love of one's family only that heartfelt happiness is known.

  Thomas Jefferson

  ~~~

  "That hurts!"

  "It's supposed to hurt. Now be quiet and breathe. And try to relax."

  "Relax! You're crazy. How can I relax when my body is tying itself in knots?"

  "Mrs. Dewitt, you'll be much more comfortable if you'll stop fighting the contractions."

  Lulu glared at the doctor. "I'm not fighting them. I just want them to stop hurting. How do you know anyhow? How many babies have you had?" She heard a stifled giggle from Regina as the contraction eased off.

  Tony wiped her brow with a damp cloth. "I thought you told me this wouldn't take long, doctor. She's been at it for hours."

  She probably should reassure him, Lulu thought. On the other hand, he deserved to see what he'd done to her. "Oh, God! Here comes another one!" She did her best to remain calm and to breathe deeply and evenly, as the doctor had instructed, but all she could do was huff and puff like a steam engine.

  The door burst open. "We're in time!" a familiar voice cried.

  The contraction intensified, until it consumed her. As it slacked off, she felt Tony start to move away. Lulu grabbed his wrist. "Stay!"

  "Here now! You people will have to leave. We can't have Mrs. Dewitt upset."

  "She'll be a lot more upset if you throw her mamma out," Tony said. "Hello Aunt Flower. Let me--"

  "I told you to stay!" Lulu grated out. "Mamma can sit on the other side."

  "What is this?" Soomey demanded "Why is she on her back?"

  Lulu lost track of what was happening anywhere but inside her body. She heard the doctor arguing as Soomey issued orders. Then Tony was lifting her shoulders, climbing onto the bed behind her.

  "Yes, that way. Put her legs over yours and hold her, just above her belly," Soomey said.

  The next contraction struck then and Lulu found it much easier to bear. "I've never felt so embarrassed in my life," she said when she realized that Soomey had removed the sheet that had heretofore covered her belly and legs.

  "Nonsense. We are all family. No, doctor, I will not let you cover her. We must see the baby when it appears."

  Lulu closed her eyes, on the theory that as long as she couldn't see the indignity of her circumstances, everything was fine. Her belly hardened in yet another contraction and she suddenly felt an irresistible urge to push.

  After that events became a kaleidoscope of sounds and sensations as she pushed and pushed and pushed.

  "A son!" Soomey cried, over the sound of a baby's cry. "You have a son. A very auspicious birth."

  "Madam, you must let me clean the baby," Lulu heard the doctor say, his voice almost drowned by an angry wail.

  "No, his mother must hold him." A wet, slippery weight was plopped into her arms and she did her best to hold onto it. Tony's hands caught it and held it against her. Through the tears in her eyes, Lulu saw her son, covered with blood and mucus, his thick black hair plastered against his head and his mouth wide open. My son, she said to herself, my precious son. And then another contraction began.

  Her mamma cried out in alarm. Lulu gasped, "Twins," before giving her whole attention to pushing her daughter into the world.

  * * * *

  The doctor, still bristling with indignation, had been sent on his way. The babies lay in Lulu's arms, one on each side. Both were clean and sweet-smelling. Tony was sprawled on the other side of the bed, half asleep, but unable to take his eyes off his children.

  "I'm so happy everyone got here in time."

  "So am I." He rolled over and stood. "Are you ready to let them all in yet?" Soomey had decreed that Lulu be given an hour's rest before showing her babies to the rest of the family. She had been backed up by the other women.

  "I guess I'd better be. We're not going to be able to keep Pappa and Uncle Silas waiting much longer."

  He helped her scoot up against the headboard and tucked another pillow behind her shoulders.

  "Are you still happy with the names we chose?"

  "I am. Are you?"

  "I think they're perfect. Open the door."

  The whole family poured into the room, led by Lulu's parents and Silas and Soomey. They clustered at the foot of the bed and around the walls until the room was full. Even Xi Xin and Ru Nan were there, over by the door with Abel and Mrs. Petrie.

  Tony picked up his daughter, held her so everyone could see the tiny face, still red and scrunched from its ordeal. He walked to the woman who was the only mother he'd ever known. "Soomey, this is my daughter, Hope Su Mei Dewitt. I ask you and Mamma Flower and Aunt Hattie to help us teach her to be the woman she can be, one like you and like her mother." When he handed the babe to Soomey, there were tears in her eyes, something he had never thought to see. She held the babe close for a long time, then passed her to her other grandmother, who kissed the now squalling infant and gave her to Aunt Hattie.

  He returned to sit beside Lulu, who held up their son. "Pappa, Uncle Emmet, Father Silas, this is my son, William Tao Ni Dewitt. I want him to grow to be brave and strong and kind as you are. Will you help us teach him?"

  "We will," they answered with one voice. In turn the three older men came and laid hands on the tiny boy's head.

  "Poor little tykes." Micah's voice came from the back of the crowd. "They ain't gonna get away with nothin' nohow."

  Laughter filled the room.

  As the level of sound rose with everyone talking at once, Tony sat next to Lulu and slipped his arm around her. "Have I thanked you for my son and my daughter?"

  "No more than I've thanked you. Oh, Tony, we are so blessed!"

  "That we are," he said, his voice breaking as joy flooded his entire being.

  THE END

  Historical Note

  Hailey, Idaho, was an important place in the early 1880s: a major lead and silver mining center, the terminus, for a time, of the Oregon Short Line's Wood River Branch, the place where Idaho's first telephones were installed, and the only western town of any importance where the Chinese weren't driven out.

  In writing The Imperial Engineer, I took liberties with the calendar, condensing the events of almost four years into one. The last spike of the railroad was driven on May 7, 1883. The first telephones went into service on October 1, 1883, and the blizzard that isolated Hailey for the better part of two weeks happened in February, 1884. The Chinese issue, simmering ever since the passage of the Chinese Exclusion Act in 1882, didn't come to a full boil until 1885, so Hailey's Anti-Chinese League actually wasn't organized until early January, 1886.

  The news, opinions, advertisements and notices attributed to the Wood River Times and the Wood River News-Miner really appeared in those newspapers. All but one of them...

  The cover illustration is taken from a panoramic map. Look closely to see a train coming in from Shoshone, and a line of telephone poles along Fourth Avenue. The color lithograph bears the legend:

  WOOD RIVER VALLEY

  with HAILEY in the FOREGROUND

  1884.

  About the Author

  Among her varied careers are a couple Judith B. Glad actually chose, rather than falling into. With her children in school, she decided it was time for her to follow her own dreams, so she went back to school and studied botany. After completing her M.S., she became a
botanical consultant, and spent the next twenty-odd years picking flowers for a living. Well, it was a little more complicated than that, but she picked enough flowers to keep her happy.

  Consulting is not always steady work, so one slow winter Judith decided to spend a little time at her second career choice. Now she'd done a lot of writing as a consultant, but somehow describing proposed mine sites and interpreting statistical data wasn't the kind of writing she wanted to do. So she wrote a book. And another, and... Before she knew it, she was spending more time writing than picking flowers.

  Judith lives in Portland, Oregon, where her garden blooms all year 'round and the long, rainy winters give her lots of time for writing. Visit her website (www.judithbglad.com) for samples of her stories.

  * * * *

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