by Carla Baku
Byron poured. He needed to get Garland off this track before he got himself into a full rage. “I thought maybe something in town. I’ll ask around.”
“You do that,” said Garland. “Watch out, though. That little bit over to Salyer’s will get to be a pricey habit.” He drank again, belched. Despite the coffee, his eyelids were getting heavy. Byron knew he would soon lie down for a few hours of sleep before going out again. “You better watch your pecker, boy. That type will give you the pox.”
“She’s not like that.” Byron kept his face calm, but his voice had an edge. “I’m not going to let that happen.”
“How do you plan to prevent it?” Garland shook his head and got to his feet. “You know how many men get on the inside of that? Pretty soon laying with her will be like putting it to an old heifer. She’ll lose her grip.” Garland clenched his fist shut in Byron’s face, grinning.
“I’m getting her out of there,” Byron said in a rush. He stood, toppling his chair. “That’s why I need a job, Pa. I want to marry her. I’m going to marry Pearl.”
“Pearl?” Garland gawped at his son, blinking stupidly. “Marry?”
“She’s not like those other women, she’s pretty and—” The look on his father’s face made his heart bang hard against his ribs. His voice rose as if to shout down that look. “You’ll see, it’ll be nice. She’ll help take care of this place, of us.”
The only sound was some small thing scratching around under the front step. Garland squinted at him with a look like trying to add sums in his head, and he scratched at the back of his neck. “Are you wit-scoured boy? You think you’re gonna marry a Chinese whore and bring her into your mama’s house?”
Byron trembled, could feel the long muscles of his back quiver. “Don’t call her that,” he said. His hands rolled into fists.
Garland’s entire body went still. “What did you say to me?”
“I said don’t call Pearl a whore.”
Garland was around the table with Byron’s shirt front bunched in his fist with a speed Byron could barely credit. He was two inches taller and at least forty pounds heavier, his meaty frame only just beginning to soften with age and too much whiskey. His bloodshot blue eyes bore in on Byron’s brown ones. “You listen to me, sonny boy. That girl has one purpose in this life, and that’s to lie still when she’s told. Just like she did for you, she does for any swinging pecker who ponies up the six bits, or whatever her boss gets for her. You got that?” He emphasized his words with a hard shake of Byron’s shirt. “Now you get a job if you can and you go ride that little Chinese pony all you want, but don’t you ever—” another shake, “—ever speak to me about bringing her into this house.” He shoved Byron backward and released him. The boy stumbled and flailed his arms, but kept his feet. “A white man doesn’t marry an animal, got it? A white man doesn’t marry a sheep, a she-panther, or a Chinese.” He went to the door of his room, his shoulders bunched.
Byron stared at his father’s back, fury pouring through him like a bad wind. Every cell in his body strained toward some violent release and he could feel Garland’s whiskered neck under his palms, the tendons taut, his Adam’s apple bulging. The desire to fling himself across the room crested like an actual pain in his muscles just as Garland looked over his shoulder at him. His face was like cold stone, waiting for the least move, ready. When Byron just stood there shaking, Garland smiled, went into his bedroom and closed the door.
He fled the house, tripping down the front stairs and falling to his knees, jumping up again. Behind the tool shed, the refuse pile had smoldered to a stinking black heap, barely smoking, a charred scar on the ground. He stood next to it, his muscles twitching wildly. The sun was warm, but a rash of gooseflesh raced across his scalp. He threw one look back at the house; his bedroom window was still propped open with the storybook, the gray rag of a curtain luffing out in the mild breeze. He grabbed the rake and pulled the burn pile apart, raising ash and smoke. A tongue of flame leapt from the uncovered embers. He thrust the rake handle into the fire. When it caught, he went to the shed and used the makeshift torch to start small blazes all around the old building. He tossed the rake aside and ran, not looking back until he was a quarter-mile away. Black smoke billowed into the blue sky and when a window shattered, Byron ran harder.
It was the expression on Bai Lum’s face that wound Rose’s insides like a corkscrew: his confusion, concern, and genuine happiness to see her already, mixed with his obvious relief at seeing Lucy Huntington.
“Rose tells me my seeds have come in unexpectedly soon,” Lucy said, her voice loud and cheerful.
“There is no one else here,” said Bai Lum. His eyes rested momentarily on Rose again, and back to Lucy.
Lucy nodded. “Good. We need to talk about Shu-Li, and I have reason to believe that Rose here may just as well be in on the discussion. First of all,” she said, “I understand Shu-Li and Rose met yesterday?”
“She came downstairs while Rose was here, yes.”
“I wouldn’t exactly say we met,” Rose said. Whatever peculiarity was going on here, she found herself wanting to hover near the door for a quick escape. “We weren’t introduced.”
“Close enough,” said Lucy. “Bai Lum, do you think anyone else has seen her?”
“Why is your sister such a secret?” Rose interrupted. “I don’t understand. Why does it matter if she’s been seen?” She waved one hand to emphasize her point and managed to clip the broom leaning near her. It fell to the floorboards with a declamatory slap and she stood it upright, cheeks flaring.
Lucy stared until Rose fidgeted to a stop. “Perhaps a little patience,” she said. “Bai Lum, we’re going to explain everything to Rose, and I’m going to speak plainly to you both.” She pointed at the ceiling. “That little girl’s life could depend on it, I think.” She went to the counter and rested one elbow, so that she faced the windows and door. “While we talk, perhaps you could put some things here for me to look at. Some spices, and some actual seeds? I believe Rose needs some things, too. We may as well make this look like business as usual.”
Rose pulled the now-rumpled list from her pocket, still utterly confused. Lucy smiled at her daft expression. “It’s called an alibi. In case anyone comes in. At any rate, Mrs. Cleary does actually expect you to bring something home, I think.”
Chastened, Rose stood by Lucy and watched Bai Lum move around the market. He set things on the counter, one by one. When she glanced down, she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling; on top of the five-pound lard bucket was a short string of firecrackers.
“Now, the first thing for you to know,” Lucy said, “is that Shu-Li is not Bai Lum’s sister.” She looked at Bai Lum, gray eyes shining. “She is actually Bai Lum’s guest. Because of his kindness, she’s here as a favor to Reverend Huntington and myself.”
Rose looked at him. “Your guest?”
“She is,” he said.
“In a manner of speaking,” said Lucy. The girl is a runaway and we’re helping her find a safe place. All of us are working together to get her to safety.”
“Safe from what?”
“From—” Lucy frowned looked toward the windows again. When she answered, her voice was almost too quiet for Rose to hear. “From a hell.” She ran her fingers back and forth over the smooth grain of the countertop. “Reverend Huntington has associates, friends in San Francisco with whom he stays in close contact. These friends found Shu-Li there, on the street, held in conditions more appalling than I can tell. Our friends got her out.”
Rose looked from Bai Lum to Lucy. “What do you mean, held?” The look on both their faces was so grim that Rose almost covered her ears, suddenly not wanting to hear.
“Rose Allen,” Bai Lum said softly, “Shu-Li was the property of Bing On tong. She was purchased by them, to be used by men. For money.”
She pictured Shu-Li as she looked yesterday, so young, her face curious and open, holding out the can of peas. Her throat cons
tricted. “My God.”
“My husband’s associates managed to smuggle her away,” Lucy said. “He arranged to meet them in the city, and he brought her here.”
“But now that she’s here, in Eureka, why are you hiding her? Won’t everyone assume she’s Bai Lum’s sister?” She looked at Bai Lum. “That’s what you told me yesterday, and I believed you.” There was a hint of accusation in her words, but she didn’t care.
“There is still a danger here,” Bai Lum said.
“What you read in the papers about their turf wars and shoot-outs is only the tip of the iceberg,” Lucy said. “When it comes to these girls, the tongs are vicious. Vicious and relentless. For the Bing On, Taking Shu-Li was just like robbing from their persons, and they simply don’t give up. A tong will send out members whose only job is to chase down a girl like Shu-Li.”
“The tongs are in Eureka, too,” Bai Lum said. “If Bing On came here, they would offer a reward for the girl.”
Rose felt nauseated. “Girls,” she said, looking at Lucy. “You said ‘when it comes to these girls.’”
“In the city there are more than you would ever want to imagine, Rose. So far, Bai Lum has helped us with four others, before Shu-Li.”
The door of the mercantile opened and the three of them stiffened. Lucy and Rose looked in that direction, but Bai Lum had already turned to the shelves behind him, as if shuffling through the jars and containers.
Old Chen Ma stood there holding his own broom, which was worn into a short, curved brush, his shadow laid down on a trapezoid of sunlight across the painted floorboards. His thin hair was pulled tightly back, and he looked around the high-ceilinged room, eyes moving over the bright kites as if mesmerized. He caught sight of Bai Lum and broke into a wide grin, showing his few teeth. He hailed Bai Lum, greeting him like a lost friend. Bai Lum lifted his hand in return. “I’ll take him out.” He put a hand on the old man’s elbow, chatting in an amiable way, and led him across the street.
Rose closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath. “I almost jumped sideways when that door opened,” she said, “like I was going to see Jacob Marley’s ghost.”
“Everything’s fine,” Lucy said softly, although Rose could see that the older woman’s face had blanched.
“Lucy, if Shu-Li isn’t safe in Eureka, then I don’t understand why she’s here, at the store. Chinatown seems dangerous for her.”
“Yes and no,” Lucy said. “Although the mercantile’s right in the middle of everything down here, we’re hiding her in plain sight. Think about it, Rose. If Charles and I had Shu-Li at our house, if anyone saw her there at the rectory, how in the world would we explain it? We’ve always taken every precaution to keep the young women out of sight, but our thinking is that, if they are seen here, it’s at least a little bit less noticeable. If Elsie Dampler, say, took a notion to ogle through the front window.”
Bai Lum returned and closed the door behind him, looking bemused. “Even with his son standing right next to him, saying “Father, come inside now,’ he was calling me by the son’s name.”
“A good enough reminder that we need to finish up,” Lucy said. “Do you see now, Rose, why I asked you last night how many people you’d told about Bai Lum’s ‘sister’? The more people who know she’s here, the greater the risk.”
“I only told Hazel.”
Lucy thought for a moment. “Is she likely to talk about it, do you think?”
Rose shook her head. “Not if I tell her that it needs to be a secret. She’ll probably stare daggers, but she won’t ask. And she wouldn’t tell a secret if you hung her by the thumbs.”
“I’m sure. As soon as you can, then, ask her to keep your confidence. And be certain you’re alone.” She lifted her chin and looked hard at Rose. “We have an even more immediate problem now, though,” she said, “and I don’t have time to be anything but blunt about it.” She glanced at Bai Lum when she said this. “This trouble with Elsie Dampler.”
Heat flooded back into Rose’s face. “I don’t care what that stupid—”
“Stop,” Lucy said, her voice quiet and stiff. “Keep your mouth shut and listen to me. It doesn’t matter if the entire town sees Elsie as a gossip with her mouth hung in the middle and running at both ends. The problem isn’t that she’s telling the world she saw Rose Allen acting inappropriately. It’s that she’s telling the world that the man was Bai Lum.” She let that sink in for a moment, then continued. “If the wrong person hears that news and decides to act rashly, it’s not your reputation I’m concerned for. In such a situation, not only is Bai Lum in danger, real and immediate danger, but so is that little girl upstairs, and she hasn’t done a thing to bring any of this misery onto herself.”
Rose put an unsteady hand to her mouth and said nothing.
“I understand that you two have feelings for each other,” Lucy continued, and she spoke in a low voice. “My goodness, in a perfect world, you’d be taking strolls by the bay and going out for evening carriage rides. If I’m speaking to you like children, I’m sorry. That’s not at all my intention, and the last thing you need is a lecture. But under the present circumstances, I’m asking you to be as discreet and careful as possible, especially until we’re able to move Shu-Li.”
Rose stole a look at Bai Lum, just a quick flick of the eyes, and was startled to see him studying her face. The expression there, though grave, was filled with tender affection. It nearly unraveled her, that look. “Of course,” he said to Lucy, keeping his eyes on Rose. “Shu-Li is the most important thing right now.” He was clearly not denying the feelings between them, only reassuring Lucy that they would not repeat the mistake that they had made the day before, and Rose got the message loud and clear. Holding his eyes, she closed her fingers around the firecrackers and slid them into her coat pocket.
“Good,” Lucy said, and reached to put an arm around Rose’s shoulder in a brief hug. “As for little Shu-Li, what’s your sense about the situation right now, Bai Lum?”
He shook his head. “She finds it difficult to stay upstairs alone when I’m down here. So many times I’ve warned her not to come down, to stay away from the windows in the daytime, but she says she wants to see the sky, and other people.”
“Bless her, of course she does,” Lucy laughed. “Frustrating as that may be, Bai Lum, that stubborn streak will do her a world of good. She has a lot to put behind her and plenty of tough challenges in her future. But if she’s determined to show herself, you’re going to have an impossible task keeping her hidden while you’re trying to do business.”
“How long does she need to stay here?” Rose asked.
“There is a place for her, up in Portland,” Lucy said, now almost in a whisper. Up in Portland.”
“So far?”
“Yes, it’s a long trip,” Lucy agreed, “and most of it by water. But the farther from San Francisco, the better. Charles doesn’t take her all that way himself. There are several people, all along the way, who will be sure she gets there safely.”
“An underground railroad,” Rose said, stunned.
“In a manner of speaking, that’s just what we’re trying to do. Once she’s in Portland, there’s a wonderful safe place for her, the home of an older Chinese couple, Mr. and Mrs. Yeung. They have a large home that they operate like a boarding house. She’ll live there with a few other young women, and they’ll train her to work in one of their businesses as soon as she’s ready. But first we have to get her there. Bai Lum,” she said, leaning toward him, “I think you’re right that we need to move Shu-Li out of the mercantile, but I need a day to get a room made for her in the rectory. I’ll send Charles to pick her up tomorrow. In the meantime, do your best to keep her occupied.”
Rose thought he looked tremendously relieved at that. “Yes,” he said. “I’ll make sure she’s ready to leave when your husband arrives. What time?”
“I think mid-day is best. People will be busy with the concerns of the day or eating their dinners. Have her a
ll set to go by noon.”
“How can I help?” Rose asked. “I could come over this evening and help you get the room prepared.”
Lucy shook her head. “Best if you bide your time now. Coming here together was risky enough. I need a chance to talk to Reverend Huntington about all this. If you hear anything worrisome, come see me at home. Otherwise, we’ll take care of it.”
Rose felt a little deflated, but she agreed.
“Good. Let’s go enjoy this lovely day, shall we?”
Bai Lum helped them carry their purchases to the carriage. On the street, Buster dozed in the sun. Lucy affectionately tugged on his forelock, her small hand like a child’s next to his brawny head. When they drove away, Rose looked back; Bai Lum had already gone inside. So many questions rattled through her mind, she felt dazed, not sure if she should ask any of them. The image, though, that kept spooling around, was of crowds of girls and young women, all of them miserable, all of them desperate.
“How many are there?” she blurted.
Lucy looked at her equably. “How many?”
“The girls. You said there are more than I can imagine. All from San Francisco?”
“A lot of them, but no, not all. Not by any means.” Buster’s hooves clop-clopped his familiar slow and steady gait, and the sun pulled up a strong smell of salt, drying mud, and green, growing things. Lucy shifted the reins and the carriage took an unexpected right turn. Now they faced the bay, and could see a steep bank of fog, like an ethereal gray range of hills hovering over the ocean.
“Where are we going?”
Lucy clucked her tongue and the horse picked up his pace a bit. “I want to show you something. A little detour.”
Two blocks north and a block west, they stopped in front of Salyer’s Hotel, three stories at the front and two in the back, the main entrance resplendent with heavy brass door handles. An elegant octagonal cupola room, each side with a window looking out, towered over all. The building dominated most of the block. Lucy, stopped in the middle of the street, craned her head to look up at the hotel. “There are four Chinese women being kept right here.”