The boys’ lives, therefore, were not in immediate danger and they were considered heroes by some. Many who had lived in or near Devil’s Acre had grown to hate McIntyre for his practices and exploitation, and total disregard for human life. These had been reluctant to express opinions for fear of reprisal. It was well known that McIntyre kept carefully guarded and embarrassing records of all his clients and of other prominent or notorious residents of the area.
Earlier during the day Santiago and Vincent had obtained a bottle of champagne, had smoked a little opium, and toasted their reunion and future. The two boys, now slightly drunk, sat in Belle’s office wondering why she had sent for them.
“You have had quite an adventure!” Belle said to Santiago, who sat next to Vincent. She was reclined on the divan and smoked an elegant pipe. Santiago had been given new clothes and was beginning to look as handsome as she remembered he had looked before becoming one of McIntyre’s stable. It was obvious that Vincent and Santiago were more than just friends. Their attachment had grown even more powerful during recent days.
“So..., much has happened in your life. You are about to embark on another adventure, it seems. I wonder how much thought has been given to this decision of yours, Santiago?”
The boy sat cross-legged, his black hair, just recently washed, fell luxuriously to his shoulders. His eyes, more sunken by the recent loss of weight, made his face seem even more haunting. It was a face harsher than the one she remembered. Santiago folded his arms and leaned back against Vincent.
“I have been turning this over in my mind for some time. My decision to leave was something I was going to do when the opportunity presented itself. This opportunity has come sooner than I thought.”
“To go back to Peru is one thing,” said Belle. “But to return there with an added burden of a child..., well that is quite another thing. Do you know what that will entail?”
“I know I will not leave him!”
Santiago pronounced the decision with determination. It was clear to Belle that his mind was set. She watched Vincent as he looked at Santiago and saw the shadow of disappointment in his face.
“You could stay, you know!”
“Señora Belle, it is not that I do not want to do that. You have been the kindest person to me. I do not want you to think that I have no gratitude for what you have done. I know that you are a good woman. I know that I could be happy working for you. Vincent has told me how much he likes being here. But there is someone else I must consider. Kim is not made for this work. He hates what he has been forced to do. And although I know you would be kind to him, he is too young for this place. So that means he would need to go elsewhere. He knows no one. What can he do? I made him a promise I intend to keep.
“I love Kim. This is not in the way you think. I know he loves me also. He depends on me! Truthfully I do not think I could go without him!”
Belle understood Santiago’s commitment and was surprised by his loyalty and courage.
He continued, “I know if I returned to Peru and took Kim with me I could return to my father’s trade. I am a good craftsman with wood. My father taught me well. I know many merchants in Lima who would buy my work. I have the money to do that, now. The gold has brought me more than I thought it would. The price of passage should leave me with enough to find a place for Kim and me to live, to buy tools, and perhaps even a shop.”
Belle nodded approval of his determination and forceful constitution.
“I believe fully that you could and will do all those things, Santiago. So, you are determined and there is little I can say to sway you. Let me speak, then, of the ship I have found for you. The Captain is a man whom I have known for several years. He is one who I trust will treat you well and kindly.
“We met on the street, this morning. He had just docked with a shipment and had decided to remain in port until after the holiday festivities. He will be leaving on Saturday’s tide and will be going as far as a place called Callao. The Captain said that you would know that place, Santiago!”
Santiago eyes opened wide, suspecting what Belle was about to tell him, yet unable to believe in the coincidence.
“He knows you,” she said.
“Is it...?”
“Captain Alvarez,” she said.
“My father and I sailed on his ship!”
“Yes, he told me,” Belle said, smiling.
Santiago was almost uncontrolled with the excitement of going home and of meeting an old friend again. He did not take note of Vincent’s disappointment, but Belle did and decided to let it pass.
Santiago continued. “We slept together. I was his cabin-boy!”
“I’m sure you were...,” Belle said, laughing. “...I’m sure you were! I know him..., but perhaps not as well as you?”
Santiago hid his face in embarrassment, a gesture that surprised them.
“The Captain is as surprised as you...,” she continued, “...to see that you are still here. He has offered to carry you home for half the original cost. The other half will no doubt be collected in private. You may even make this journey at no cost, depending on how well you play your cards, Santiago. However, that is for you to arrange.”
Santiago’s excitement made it difficult for him to remain seated and he slipped into his native tongue when it became too difficult for him to think clearly in English. When he turned he took note of Vincent’s mood. His friend looked depressed and close to tears. He also detected anger in Vincent’s eyes. The darkness of the room made it difficult for him to be sure, but there was no mistaking the pained expression. It took Santiago by surprise and he went to Vincent and knelt at his feet, taking hold of his hands. Their eyes met and Vincent tried to look away but Santiago pressed for his attention.
“Come with me?”
The suggestion to follow Santiago was one that had crossed Vincent’s mind. But it was not in his nature to follow others. He had not been able to bring himself to ask Santiago if he could come along. He had needed to hear the offer made. Now that it was done the thought that he had a little money saved from what Bolen had put away for him, made Vincent less reluctant to risk the venture. Anthony Bolen’s generosity had been counted on to be his escape from the street-trade and into something more promising. At their last meeting Bolen had spoken of a job in one of his warehouses and of giving Vincent his own living quarters when Bolen’s health improved. But if Bolen died Vincent would be completely dependent on Belle’s generosity. Would the gamble be worth it? And what of Santiago? When he looked into his friend’s eyes he saw the truth of what he had heard when Santiago had spoken about Kim. Vincent decided not to press the question.
“My place is here...,” he said, understanding that it meant the end of their friendship.
Santiago’s disappointment could not be dampened. His good fortune was such that his spirits were, for the first time since before his mother’s death, rekindled in a love for life.
Belle interrupted his thoughts and the impasse they had reached.
“You boys need to get back to your chores and I must get back to mine. Santiago, go look after Kim and tell him of the good news.”
Belle always referred to the work her boys did as their chores. When she told a boy he had chores, it meant there was a customer waiting.
“This isn’t a free ride, boys. Get back to work.”
Before she closed the door, she lingered a moment.
“Remember, Santiago, you leave Sunday. Today is Wednesday. Business as usual until then, understood?”
“I always have,” he said.
“That’s what I’ve heard,” she said, blowing each a kiss before she ushered them out.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
The explosive activity of the town’s celebration reflected its recent growth. The spirit of the crowd was wild in nature filled with careless abandon of most who ran through the streets with bottles of whiskey at their lips and pistols in hand, firing into the air as proof of their festiveness and patriotism
.
The influx of immigrants was evident in the normally noisy and bustling streets, now so filled with people that it was impossible to drive a team along any of the public thoroughfares. The ladies walked ankle-deep in mud and seemed not to mind. Children wove through the throngs picking pockets, in competition with their more agile adult counterparts. Gamesters, tricksters, hawkers, acrobats filled the waterfront and plied their art. The occasion was a wonderful excuse to over-eat, over-drink, and over indulge all the senses in excesses that gave the town its notoriety.
The sound of gunfire was matched by broadsides fired by ships anchored in the bay and throughout the day windows rattled from the cacophony of cannons. Gambling houses and whore-houses filled to capacity. Some of the merchants had boarded doors and windows from fear of the crowd’s wild nature, having learned a lesson from previous experiences.
As night fell on July 4th of 1889, a bonfire fueled by shipping-crates and pieces of old and abandoned ships blazed along the waterfront. The sky was lit like daytime and many who witnessed the light from atop the hill above Mission Dolores and from the outskirts beyond, thought the town in flames. It was, perhaps, a portent of the conflagration that would sweep across the settlement in the December to come.
Belle’s Nugget profited grandly. Faro-tables and roulette wheels were in continuous operation for almost three days. Business was so brisk in bordellos that some boys were near exhaustion. The story was circulated that one lad had slept through three acts of intercourse before someone complained to the management. Belle decided to close her facility temporarily and allow her boys to rest and join the crowds outside and sample the excitement.
Santiago and Vincent walked the streets for three hours, absorbed in the human drama they saw before them. The few dollars in their pockets were quickly spent on food and drink. They stuffed themselves with tortillas, pickles so sour that they barely could keep their eyes open to see where they were going, apples dipped in sugar, cider, sausages sold by a Portuguese woman who covered them in a sauce so hot that they almost drowned themselves at the water fountain trying to quell the fire in their stomachs and mouths. The boys followed men whose faces they recognized as customers, especially those who were accompanied by wives and children and laughed when they saw them become self-conscious, filled with the fear of being approached and disclosed.
They reveled in freedom and did not return until late evening. They stopped by Kim’s room to see how he was feeling, but found him sleeping. Returning to their own room, Santiago and Vincent smoked two pipes of opium. Belle saw the boys arrive and joined them, looking concerned.
“I have received some bad news and good news.”
Santiago felt his heart pound as he anticipated being told of some delay of his departure.
“What is it,” he asked. “Has it to do with leaving..., is it about Kim ?”
Belle turned to Vincent and laid her hand on his shoulder.
“This affects you, Vincent. Your Mr. Bolen passed away this afternoon.”
Vincent flinched as though he had been punched in the stomach. His eyes began to water and he turned to hide his face, crying silently. Belle’s hand on his shoulder only seemed to fuel his sadness. Santiago moved closer and held him.
“I received word just an hour ago,” she said. “Anthony was a good man. He will be missed!”
“But how..., what happened?” Vincent looked at her pleadingly.
“They say his lungs became filled with fluid, last night. Sometime in the early morning hours he stopped breathing. His wife found him that way.”
“You said there was also good news?” Santiago urged her on.
She nodded and took Vincent’s hand.
“You know Mr. Bolen cared for you a great deal. He made provisions for you, did you know that?”
“I know about the money he was holding for me while I worked for McIntyre. But you know as well as I do that it will be impossible to get that from his wife, now! The five hundred dollars is as good as gone. I know he would not have told her about me or why he would be holding my money. Belle, the money is gone..., there is no good news in that!”
“No,” she said. “It is not gone!”
“What?” Vincent could not believe what she was saying. “Tell me for God’s sake..., what do you mean?”
“I will...,” she said, touching his cheek. “You are a wealthy boy, Vincent. When you left McIntyre and came to me, Mr. Bolen gave me trust of your money. Above what you have earned here, he was putting sums into your account. He never told you about that and asked that I keep it secret until it was the right time. You were to be told only if something happened to him or if you came to need it badly. I know that at some time he would have disclosed it himself. I think he planned to tell you if you ever decided you did not want to continue doing with this kind of work.”
“How much?”
“Enough so that you need not work if you choose, and are careful with it.”
“Belle, please don’t tease me! How much?”
“Almost ten thousand dollars. With your own money, it brings it well above that.”
“Ten thousand dollars...?” Vincent was stunned.
“That’s right! Mr. Bolen thought a great deal of you, I think. He loved you, you know!
“My God..., he never said anything about it. Never even hinted!”
“He wanted to. But I think he feared losing you if you came into that kind of money. He wanted to make sure you would be well provided. What will you do now?”
Santiago watched Vincent consider his options. He caught Vincent’s eye and winked.
“I don’t know.” Vincent said. “I really am not unhappy here.”
“Good,” Belle smiled. “Then you will remain with me?”
“I need time to think..., I don’t know..., but I don’t think so.”
“I thought as much,” Belle smiled knowingly. She stood and looked down at them. “I have a feeling there will be three empty beds in this house, come Saturday.”
Belle blew them a kiss as she left.
“Is she right?” Santiago noticed the way Vincent was looking at him. “Will you leave?”
“I think so.”
“But where will you go?”
“Far away from here,” Vincent said with a twinkle in his eye.
“Where? You have something in mind, I know it!”
“With you!”
Santiago had hoped beyond hope that it would be Vincent’s decision. The sense of many frayed ends coming together into something more solid was something he had not felt since his departure from Peru. He could not believe Vincent was serious.
“I mean it!” Vincent said. “I have money now. You once said that you’d like to have me come with you. Now I can pay my own way. We could help each other. I’ve never been anywhere like where you come from. We could make it work, you know!”
“Are you including Kim?”
“Of course!”
“You will not mind him?”
“No. The question is whether he will mind me! Kim depends on you. He is very attached to you, Santiago. And he is very possessive of you. Remember how much he depended on his brother? He may not like the idea of my coming along.”
“I will speak to him, Vincent. I know that once he realizes he will not be left behind, that he will adjust to the idea. I will tell him that he will have two brothers instead of one. Much is happening and the change is hard for him..., as it is for me! So many new plans and so many new events! I feel as though the world is turning too fast and it is making me dizzy..., as though being swept away.
“I have been in California a little less than a year and in that time, have lost my father, have been with too many men to count, and have killed six people with little remorse. Does that mean that I am a bad person also, Vincent?”
“It means you learn quickly, Santiago. The causes of your actions were bad. But your responses to them left you little choice!”
Vincent’s letter arrived by s
teamer in late October and it brought Belle great relief. She had wondered and worried about the boys. Not a day had passed since their departure that she had not thought of them and realized with joy her part in their liberation. Belle had received a short note from Captain Alvarez saying he had seen the boys as far as Callao, but had been unable to go further with them. When Vincent’s letter arrived and she saw that the postmark was from Lima, Belle was excited and curious.
Her curiosity was more piqued when she saw the length of the letter and realized that it had never occurred to her that Vincent could either read or write. With her glass of port in hand she settled by the open window and began to read.
Dear Belle,
This letter may surprise you. Now that it is finished, it surprises me. I have never written more than a few words at any one time, in my life. We arrived in Lima the first week in August. The ship was awful! The weather was miserable! We slept almost every night on deck because it was so hot. Captain Alvarez is a good man. You were right about him and Santiago. Kim was angry because Santiago paid so much attention to the man. That is when he turned to me and we become close. He is a very likable little boy!
When we arrived in Lima we stayed at the inn Santiago said he used when he worked for his father. He knew the owner and we were well treated there. We stayed in Lima for almost two weeks until we finally found a place to live, where there was also room for Santiago to have his shop. He surprises me! He is almost sixteen and that is not too old, but sometimes he is so much the man! The old woman who owns the building looked at us as though we were rowdies, but when she saw that we had the money, she said we could move in. Santiago and I share a room. Kim has his own. We have become lovers, but I suppose that does not surprise you. It did surprise me because when we first arrived, Santiago always talked about finding his friend Fidel. They had once been lovers. So Santiago went to his village but returned saying that Fidel had acted cool to him. The boy told Santiago he had found someone else and that it would be better if they did not see each other. It was almost a week before Santiago pulled out of his depression. Kim and I tried everything to make him laugh, but for a time I thought we had made a mistake in coming here. But then he started to come out of it.
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