Allerton and Axtell

by Gary Lee Martinson

  “I see,” she said. She was confused as to wether to confide in Eva or not. She had just been mislead by her.

  “Mr. Gilbert Fenny is a fine young man,” Eva said. “What we talk about goes no further than this roof.”

  “I see,” Clara spoke as if she were caught doing something bad. “Well, he’s not a fine young man.”

  “What ’as ’e done to deserve this condemnation?”

  “I saw him giving another woman a tour of Rush Park.”

  Eva eagerly waited for further information. She waited for several seconds and Clara remained silent. “Is that it?”

  “That’s it,” Clara answered quickly.

  Eva was surprised Clara was so upset over a simple observation. She offered up a simple explanation, “Maybe that’s part of ’is job.”

  “It’s not,” she said confidently. “He is just a lowly, good-for-nothing, stable boy.”

  “You’re beginning to sound like your father.” Eva said coldly.

  “Well, he was right about him.” Clara cringed having to admit her father was right.

  Eva took a deep breath before she started to spue out, “Your father is not always right. ’E’s very prejudice ’bout some things, ya know.” She said, “’E, once told we Irish people don’t pronounce our, ’H’s’ because we’re too lazy to, ‘huff’ it out of their lungs. I told ’im, that we weren’t going to waste our breath sayin’ somethin’ that ain’t worth sayin’” She nodded her head, “It takes a good blast of air to make an ‘H’, ’eard.”

  Clara smiled and chuckled, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Funny,” Eva said, “that’s just what your father said. Anyway, I stood up for the Irish, and your father didn’t feel insulted and I kept me job.”

  “All was well in the world,” Clara concluded. “I wish all was well in my world.”

  “What did you advise me to do about Mr. Jaworski?” Eva got Clara to think about her problem and how to solve it.

  “I’m not going to lower myself to admit I am jealous.”

  “Miss Clara, you simply ’ave to ask ’im who the woman was.” Eva went on to say, “If you don’t trust ’im than you don’t ’ave nothin’.”

  “I do trust him,” Clara said sadly, “but we spend so little time together that, he may be tempted by other women. Someone he doesn’t have to sneak around to see. It would be much more convenient to date someone else like that.”

  “And ’im bein’ a man and all.” Eve spoke with great disdain towards men.

  “I wish we could be seen together without any consequences,” Clara said. “If I were older, living on my own, I wouldn’t hesitate to be seen with him.”

  “The good for nothin’ stable boy?” Eva referring to Clara’s description.

  “He really has done well for himself hasn’t he.”

  “That ’e is. But still ’e’s just a stable boy. A good for nothin’ rat, ’e is.”

  Clara leaned over to hug Eva. They sat quietly looking out onto the silent street below that hosted a few buggy’s and wagons once in awhile. “I think I’ll go to bed.” Clara broke the silence.

  “Let me know if ya ever need to talk again.” They awkwardly made their way back into the house through the window. Clara had to give Eva a kindly push in the bum to get her through. Eva landed on the floor with a thud. Clara looked in to see Eva sprawled out on the floor.

  “Are you all right?” Clara asked as she made her way through the window.

  “I am fine miss,” she said pulling her skirt down over her knees.

  Chapter Ten

  Building A Reputation

  As the meeting date approached, the expected 15,000 people began to fill the streets. There was an unexpected large turnout, over 20,000 came to the small town. This did not affect the quality of service to everyone. Proper accommodations were found for everyone.

  Finally, the big day came for the first races to begin on the new track. The morning sky barely lit up Gilbert’s room. When he woke, he jumped with excitement out of his bed and went to the window. He knew before he pushed back the curtains it was cloudy. It hadn’t rained yet, however, it certainly looked as though it would rain. He was confident the track would handle the rain if it did. It was designed to withstand substantial amounts of rain, only a gully washer could cause the races to be canceled.

  It had been convenient the last several days for Gilbert to get a fine breakfast at one of the eating booths at the track. Gilbert made a point of going to the booth set up by the Vienna Café, in hopes Clara would be working. He was disappointed to see that she wasn’t working that particular morning. Instead he was waited on by Katie Miller, who was working that morning. Barney joined him for breakfast.

  “Good morning, Gilbert, Barney,” Katie greeted the two young men.

  “Good morning Katie,” Gilbert returned the greeting.

  Barney quietly responded, “Hi.”

  Katie showed her usual pretty smile, “What would you like this morning? Other than a bright sun.” She looked up at the clouds that seemed to be thickening in the west.

  “You bring sunshine wherever you are Katie,” Gilbert said honestly.

  “That was a very nice thing to say.” She said with a twinkle in her eyes.

  Gilbert blushed slightly, “I’ll have sausages, bacon and two glasses of milk.”

  “Fine,” she looked to Barney, “How about you. What would you like to have?”

  Barney looked away from her, “Same.”

  “Great,” she said pleasantly. While he and Barney sat on a bench eating, they heard distant thunder in the west. The thunder and clouds gradually got louder and more frequent with streaks of lightning. He went to the stables to do his chores, feeding and watering the horses as usual. Soon the thunder was so close the horses were getting a restless. Then the rain began to pour down in a gully washer. The rain continued through the morning and the first day of the races was washed out.

  Mr. Williams showed up midmorning to check on the horses. He wasn’t upset about the rain washing out the opening day of the new track. He told Gilbert that reports from out west showed clear skies for the next few days.

  The second day broke with the sun shining and the smell of fresh soil being worked on the track. It was going to be the best weather for racing anyone could hope for. Activity at Rush Park began early in the morning. Many of the horsemen had their horses jogging on the half mile track. Many jogged their horses around the surrounding country roads. There was a steady stream of horses being jogged on the road leading to the Hospital for The Insane.

  Judges, security people, medical personnel, the fire department with a fire wagon, tellers and food servers were at the track early. Soon spectators began to show up. They arrived by walking, riding in wagons, on horseback and even a couple of drunks staggered out of a barn across the main road from the track. The gate began to back up with long lines of people ready to pay the $1 admission fee to get in. There was the option of paying for a $4 season ticket for one or $7 season ticket for two. Many took time to look over the full facility. Some got in lines to get something to eat, while others planted themselves in the stands to insure good seats for the races.

  The smell and smoke of barbeque pits cooking pork and beef filled the air. Tons of potatoes, shipped in by railcar loads, were being boiled along with corn on the cob. There were roasting chickens, biscuits, fresh baked bread, stews of all kinds were available at the food stands. There were peanuts and candy being sold at several of the booths. There was a stand selling a sweet fluffy sticky material resembling colored cotton. There were stands selling souvenirs, like little American flags, items with Axtell or Allerton’s names or pictures on them.

  The most popular drinks were pink lemonade and ice water. Coffee and tea were available, but did not go over well being it was a warm day. Spirits of any kind were not a
llowed on the grounds. Regardless of the rule, you could find men taking quick swigs from flasks they smuggled in with them.

  The grounds were full of people of all shapes, size, age, and personality. Women were dressed in every color of dresses and sporting the most diverse head wear from around the world. The bright sun encouraged the wearing of large hats and the use of parasols’. The number of them was so grand the grounds looked like a field of daisies. It was an opportunity for a woman to show off her most prized apparel. The men wore basic black or grey suits, many wore dark pants held up by suspenders and light colored shirts buttoned neatly all the way up to the neck.

  Younger boys were often setting off strings of firecrackers arousing attention from the Rush Park security force. The mischievous boys were relieved of the objects and held for their parents. If their parents weren’t found, they were escorted off the grounds.

  There was always a musical band, an orator or a fiddle player making music on the grounds. You could hear a polite applause as each presentation ended. There were the normal gossiping huddles of women scattered about the grounds. The men separated into their own huddles discussing business and horse betting.

  The first horses scheduled to race warmed up on the half mile track before moving to the kite track for a lap warm up. A twelve page printed program, with the race schedule and other information were being distributed to the spectators as they entered the track. It was impossible after the first day being a washout to expect to follow the schedule. Races were starting an hour earlier each day through the rest of the week in hopes to conclude all races by the end of the week. Races were to be carried out in the order they were listed adding a few races each day. The track announcer used a huge megaphone to announce each race.

  The biggest race in the first day was a race including Keno F and Mary Marshal. Keno F was a very popular gelding from Dubuque. He had won great matches in Minneapolis, Rochester, Chicago and had a loyal following. Mary Marshall was one of Charles Williams’s best horses behind Allerton and Barnhart. Keno F. was the favorite in the betting pools with $40, Mary Marshall pooled at $6 and the rest of the field $4.

  The first heat of the race went to Keno F. in a fast time of 2:21. The supporters from Dubuque went into a betting frenzy offering flat bets at great odds to get any takers to bet. Mary Marshall found her speedy trot taking the last three heats trotting a consistent; 2:17, 2:17 3/4; and 2:18 1/4. It would be a long trip home to Dubuque for the gamblers that bet their last dollar on their beloved horse.

  After the first night of racing, Gilbert went into town in hopes to find Clara. She had promised to try and work the booth during the races, but had not worked the first day. He walked along main street, but there were so many people milling around it was difficult to walk on the board sidewalk. The downtown looked different these days, lit up by new lights and people he didn’t know.

  As he walked in the dirt street next to the boardwalk, a running man leaped off the boardwalk into the dirt street nearly knocking him over. Seconds later he was nearly knocked over again by two security men chasing the man.

  There were people standing outside Kings Hall Opera House waiting for the first show to end. The drinking establishments were full and the doors were open so you could hear the chatter inside. Discussions on how fast the track was and how other tracks would compare to it. Several personal records were made at the track that day. Gilbert heard one voice stand out as he passed a pub, “If you’re going to race anywhere, you’re going to want to race here.”

  He went east on Main Street and found the Vienna Café still open. So he got in line with the crowd to get in. He glanced in and saw Clara inside serving people. The Café adopted a routine to exit people out the back door as they finish their meals, while new patrons could enter and be seated through the front door. Most patrons were very understanding and cooperative of the situation. They generally ate quickly to free up the tables for others to get in to eat.

  He decided to wait until later in hopes to catch her when business slowed down. He sat down around the corner of the building with his back up against the building. He was exhausted from the activity of the day and soon fell asleep. He was awakened by a young man no older than he was, trying to steal his wallet. Gilbert grabbed his hand and the young thief pulled himself away and ran. He looked into the Café and saw it was dark, inside except a dim light in the kitchen. As he looked through the front window he saw the light in the back go out. He quickly ran around the buildings into the back alley.

  He heard a man’s voice say, “Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?”

  “No, thank you, it is just a few streets. I’ll be fine.” The girl answered as she walked away from Gilbert down the dark alley. It sounded like Clara, but he wasn’t sure. Gilbert didn’t want to call out to her, in case it wasn’t Clara. So, he approached her slowly until he could be sure it was Clara. The girl who was walking ahead of him, heard his footsteps behind her so she began to walk faster. She turned north on Chatham where there was some street lighting. The flickering street lamps assisted him in identifying the girl. He was almost certain it was Clara. He knew whoever the girl was, was aware of his presence and he needed to announce himself.

  “Clara!” He called out. The girl quickly turned around and froze. She squinted to see, then ran toward him. In a few seconds they were locked in an embrace. Clara was not crying, but she was shaking. “You should have accepted Mr. Soener’s invitation to walk you home.”

  “I will from now on,” she continued to embrace him.

  “I missed you so much I had to see you.”

  “I must get home right away, it is very late.” She pushed herself away.

  “I’ll walk you home.” He reached to take her arm, but she shunned the attempt.

  Her terror of being followed was relieved by Gilbert’s announcement, however her anger toward him was quickly back on her mind. “You may walk me home, then off with you.” She spoke harshly.

  “What’s wrong?” Gilbert questioned.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “That’s silly. What’s wrong?”

  “I am not being silly.” She spoke sternly, picking up her pace.

  Gilbert could tell she was about to burst and the whole mess could be cleared up once she spilled out her secret anger. “You’re being a typical woman.” He attempted to coax her to blow.

  “As typical as your girlfriend.”

  Gilbert’s only conception of his girlfriend was Clara, so the answer in his mind was obvious. “Of course,” he stupidly answered.

  “Uh! You admit it!” She quickly stopped to look at him. He stopped to face her. Then she continued her attack, “Honesty is not becoming of a cheating, two-timing, scum-bag like yourself, goodnight!” She quickly brushed past him turned up the walk to her aunt and uncle’s house. She quietly opened the front door, Gilbert stood starring at the nearly dark house. They had left a front room lamp burning for Clara. Soon it dimmed and went out leaving the house dark.

  Gilbert could not figure out what it was she was upset about. He muttered to himself, “What the heck is that all about?”

  One great event at the races was Roy Wilkes going after his own world pacing record at 2:09. He paced for a new stallion world pacing record to 2:08 1/4.

  After the week’s races had been completed, it was if the town deflated with the exodus of so many people in so many modes of transportation. Train whistles were constantly being blown as they pulled out one by one. It took several days for all the visitors to get out of town. The town hosted the last visitor as cordially as they did the first. The town was soon back to it’s usual relaxing pace.

  Clara was to return to Dubuque to attend school after the conclusion of the races. Gilbert boldly went to her aunt and uncle’s house to see her. Clara intentionally slipped out the back door. She headed for the Café to pick up her last wages be
fore leaving. Gilbert spotted her as she crossed the street a few blocks away.

  He was able to catch her a block from the café. Clara saw him coming, but did not alter her stride. He walked next to her. “Will you tell me what you are so upset about?”

  “That other woman,” she sternly, but quietly answered his question.

  He was lost as to what other woman she was referring to. “What other woman?”

  She silently walked into the back door of the Vienna Café. She turned around and put her hand on his chest. “You can’t come in here.”

  He stopped, she slammed the door in his face. He went around the building to walk up Walnut Street south to Main Street. He turned west and a few doors down to the front of the Café and found a bench to sit on.

  Inside the Café, Mr. Hussey, Mr. McHenry, Mr. Leytze, Mr. Tabor and Mr. Morse, were sitting in the Vienna Café having breakfast. Mr. Louis Soener, co-owner of the café, came to their table and joined them. “Gentlemen,” he spoke plainly to get their attention. “I just was reading the Kell’s Iowa Turf, this morning. Have you read it, yet?” Kell’s Iowa Turf was a newspaper based in Des Moines, Iowa.

  The men at the table looked at the paper in Mr. Soener’s hand as he placed it in the hand of Mr. Hussey.

  “Here, I don’t read very well,” Mr. Hussey said as he handed it to Mr. McHenry. It was a lie, because Mr. Hussey was a very intelligent man. He just wanted to make Mr. McHenry read the article.

  “Sure,” he responded while looking at the paper and studied it until Mr. Soener pointed at the article of interest. “Oh,” Mr. McHenry started to read, “Independence is the sight of the greatest race track in the world. It may be a mystery to some how it came to be that way. After the first meeting on the track it will not be the last. Mr. Charles Williams has transformed Independence and Iowa into a top trotting state. We now rival Kentucky for the right to call ourselves the trotting capital. The people of Iowa have become more and more interested in the production of quality trotting horses than anywhere else right now. Look at what was accomplished last week at the new Independence track.”