by Vivi Holt
When Ramona walked through the front door of Elizabeth’s apartment that night, she found the sitting room and kitchen empty.
“Lizzie?” Ramona entered the small bedroom they shared.
Elizabeth was sitting on the bed. “Ramona, there’s something I have to talk to you about. I’ve been speaking with my parents.”
Ramona’s face dropped. She sat down on the bed, beside Elizabeth, smoothing the creases in her dress and tucking one foot elegantly beneath the other.
“You can stay here for a week or two longer but after that,” Elizabeth’s eyes were filled with turmoil, and her lower lip trembled as she spoke, “you’ll have to find somewhere else to settle.”
“Your parents don’t want me staying here anymore, do they?”
Ramona sighed loudly. She knew that Elizabeth’s parents had always thought that Ramona’s artistic leanings and lack of supervision were a bad influence on their daughter. They refused to encourage any such outlandish behavior in their own daughter. Elizabeth’s steady job as a maid earned their pride, and they looked forward to the day when she would be married to a sensible man with a solid job of his own. They saw her friendship with the untraditional Ramona as a threat to the security of Elizabeth’s future.
“They say it’s time you learned to take care of yourself. I’m sorry Ramona.”
Elizabeth tried to mask her dismay at having to relay this information by staring at the cracked floorboards. “It’s a small apartment, Ramona. It’s nothing personal against you, I promise. It’s just that four people living here is such a strain on them.” She managed a small smile. “But I’m sure you’ll come up with a plan for what to do next. You always do.”
Roman’s forced a smile across her full lips.
“It’s fine Lizzie. I promise you, I’m not worried about it at all. I’ll find some way out of this. Perhaps I can get our old apartment back. I’ll go and speak to Mr. Mason about it.” She nodded. “Yes. I’ll come up with a plan, don’t you worry about me.”
But Ramona couldn’t come up with a plan. She had no practical skills and without the money to pay Mr. Mason there was no chance of Ramona returning to her old apartment and she knew it. Ramona watched as Elizabeth stood, straightened her skirts, and smiled down at Ramona with pity in her eyes.
She thinks I should have taken her advice and trained as a governess or a maid, not a performer. Ramona sighed. Elizabeth had told her seven years ago that she was living with her head in the clouds when the two of them were only twelve years old. Elizabeth and her parents had just moved in across the hall, and Ramona had exposed her dreams of fame and fortune to her new friend. Elizabeth hadn’t approved, and for the first time in her life she believed Elizabeth had been right all along. Now that she was entirely alone in the world, how was she going to support herself with nothing but a dream to keep her warm?
Two nights later, as Ramona and Elizabeth prepared for bed, Elizabeth asked “So, have you come up with a plan yet?”
Elizabeth’s face flushed red as she fluffed her pillow, and Ramona wished she could embrace her and tell her that she didn’t blame her for anything that was happening. She knew it wasn’t Elizabeth’s fault. Her parents didn’t want Ramona to stay, and Ramona understood why. It was no one’s fault, except perhaps her mother’s.
Even so, thought Ramona, I don’t hold it against Mother. She was lonely and afraid of spending the rest of her life on her own. She worked so hard to pay the bills, and it always seemed as though the money she earned was never quite enough to cover our expenses, especially with all of my dance and voice lessons. She wanted a better life, and I can’t blame her for that. She had to leave me behind, and she knew I would manage somehow. And I will. I will figure all of this out with God’s help.
In that moment Ramona felt a gentle peace filling her soul as she forgave her mother for leaving her and let go of her worry about the future.
God, please help me have wisdom to know what to do with my life. I feel so alone, I don’t know where to turn. Show me the path I should take.
Time was ticking. Ramona couldn’t stay in the apartment much longer. She had tried to find a job, but just before Christmas wasn’t a great time to be looking for one. Though she had combed the city, there seemed to be no other places offering positions for young women such as her. But now, she had come up with a plan of sorts. It wasn’t complete yet, just a partial plan really. It had been bouncing around in her head for the past few days, and she’d not been able to shake it out. Every time she tried to dismiss it to come up with something better, she couldn’t, and the partial plan came creeping back into her thoughts.
Standing at the window in Elizabeth’s bedroom, she stared wistfully at the street below. The trees were bare now, and their blackened trunks stood stark against a light coating of snow that had fallen across the city like a shroud in the early hours of the morning. Candlelight drifted, twinkling, out to the street from various windows in the surrounding buildings, and the sound of bells jingling merrily on sleighs passing by on the street carried up on the cold air to where she stood. Ramona reached over to the dresser beside her and picked up a hat of Elizabeth’s that she’d always admired, sitting it on her head jauntily.
“I think I will go to Austin. To Texas. To find my mother.”
Elizabeth stared at her with wide eyes. “But you’ve no idea where she is. How on earth would you find her? And how will you get to Austin? You don’t have any money. Travelling on your own is so dangerous, anything could happen to you. Ramona, you ought to stay here in New York. Try again to find work, there must be something for you here.”
“No, I’ve looked everywhere. There is no work available at the moment, not for someone with no skills or experience. Lizzie, I know that if I can just get to Texas and find Mother, everything will be all right.”
Ramona tilted her head and admired the hat in the mirror. The red band around the base of the hat worked well with her complexion, and the small feather tucked into the band looked elegant in the dim evening light.
“I’m sure that Mother only acted in haste. This man must have tricked her into it. She was distressed about the idea of losing him and being alone, that’s all. She couldn’t have been thinking clearly. She never would have left me like she did if she had taken some time to think it through. I know it. I’ll find her, and tell her I’ve forgiven her and just want to be part of her life and everything will be okay again. I’m certain I will be able to find work in Austin, and surely Mother’s new husband won’t object to having me around now that they’re married. Maybe we could even move back here to New York before spring time and everything can go back to how it was before Father died.”
And I won’t miss my chance to audition for Broadway next year. I won’t have to give up on all of my dreams, and we can be a family again.
“Besides,” Ramona said softly. “I miss her. Even if things can’t return to normal, I have to at least try to find her. She is out there somewhere missing me too. I’m sure she’s hoping that I’ll come.”
Elizabeth sighed. “And are you prepared to accept the truth, even if it turns out to be different from what you’re imagining?”
Ramona took the hat off and placed it on the dark, sturdy dresser. She straightened her hair in the mirror, then turned to face Elizabeth who was examining her with a concerned look on her thin face.
“I know my mother, and I know that if I can just make my way to Texas, somehow, things will all work out. She won’t be able to turn me away. And once I have the chance to explain things to her, the way that I see them, she’ll understand how I feel and what’s best for the two of us, and I’ll be able to bring her home. She just doesn’t want to be alone, but I’m going to show her that she never will be. I’ll always be here for her. She doesn’t have to worry about that any longer. She’s all I have in the world, and I’m all she has - well me and her new husband of course - and in the end she’ll see that.”
3
Michael
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Michael Newhill wiped down the chestnut mare, rubbing gently where the straps of the harness had chaffed at her coat. He tickled her nose and slipped a slice of carrot between her searching lips. She munched happily on the carrot, pushing against him with her whiskered nose to search for more. She nickered softly to him, and he chuckled.
“You greedy old thing,” he whispered into her long ears. “That’s enough carrot for today. Oh all right then, just one more.”
Michael popped another long, crisp carrot between her teeth, and stepped back to watch her eat it with amusement as her nostrils flared, searching for more. He’d owned the horse, Sadie, for almost as long as he’d lived in Austin and her hair was becoming flecked with grey. He’d travelled there with a crew of construction workers from New York when he was fifteen years old after his parents told him it was time he earned his own way in life. They valued hard work, and never abided by coddling, so if he was to be a man they could be proud of, he’d have to go out and make his way in the world. He’d been the team’s runner – fetching them water, food, coffee and anything else the men needed while they showed him the ropes and taught him their trade. After his apprenticeship he’d earned a reputation as a hard and skilled worker, and could take his pick of jobs around the growing town.
“Good night Sadie,” he said, patting her gently on the shoulder and stepping out of the stable. He lowered the timber bar that kept the horse inside the stable, and picked the harness up from the floor of the barn. He wiped it over with a wet cloth, and hung it up on a nail that had been driven into the stable wall high above his head. Walking through the barn, the other horses boarding there whinnied to him softly, and he smiled, then broke into a whistle. Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, he pulled the collar of his jacket up high around his neck, and moved swiftly toward Guy Town, where the men of Austin went to enjoy a drink, some entertainment, and even a haircut if that’s what they were looking for.
Striding down Congress Avenue, and heading west, Michael wondered once more why he had let Tony convince him to visit the red light district. Michael could hear the noises of Guy Town drifting on the night breeze before he saw the place. The twanging of violins, the tinkle of piano keys, and the raucous laughter of saloon patrons spilled out onto the street. Lit only by the light of hanging lanterns, the streets of Austin were bathed in darkness, and the underbelly of the city was out in full force.
Turning down a side alley, Michael looked at the handwritten signs swinging above several of the establishments announcing what lay behind the heavy timber doors. He saw his best friend Tony Campone standing outside a saloon that a sign pronounced to be ‘The Rusty Nail’, chatting with a group of men. He strode over to them.
“Tony!”
“You made it. Michael, this is Rodney and Callum.”
The men all shook hands, then headed inside the saloon.
“I can’t stay long,” Michael’s eyes swept around the small, dark room, taking in the barber’s chair in the corner where men could find their excuse for being seen in the saloon if needs be. The floor was covered in sawdust, and roughly crafted chairs were scattered about the place. A man was banging away on a small piano in one corner, and several women, in various stages of undress, loitered about the patrons, laughing and teasing them.
“Oh, come on Mike. Don’t be a spoil sport. Let’s have a punt. You play Faro, right?” asked Tony, heading toward a card table that was jammed up against the wall and surrounded by men.
“No, I don’t. I’ll watch you play,” said Michael, following him reluctantly. He stood back from the card table, and leaned against the wall, crossing his ankles and tipping his black hat back from his forehead.
Tony, Rodney, and Callum all joined in the card game, and were soon making money. Michael watched with interest for a while, but before long became bored with the game and turned to scan the rest of the room. A commotion on the other side of the saloon caught his attention. A young, blonde woman was attempting to sing along with the piano and one of the patrons was grabbing at her petticoats, pulling her into his lap. She slapped his hands away good naturedly a few times, but that only made him more persistent. She stopped singing and pushed him hard, soliciting catcalls and jeers from around room. The man, obviously embarrassed, stood to his feet, his face reddening. He strode to the woman, and grabbed her hard on the arm, pulling her along after him. He was attempting to take her out the back door of the saloon, but she fought him all the way.
Michael stood up straight, watching the exchange with growing anger. He strode across the room, and flicked the man in the back of the head with his fingers.
“She doesn’t want to go with you,” he growled.
The man turned around, a look of surprise on his face, which soon changed to fury.
“This ain’t none of your business fella.”
The man pushed out his chest and stretched himself up as tall as he could reach.
“Well, when you bother a lady like that it becomes my business,” replied Michael, his hands poised beside his hips ready to react to the man’s predictable attack.
Michael felt the entire room go still. The piano music stopped as the pianist turned to watch them. Soon all eyes in the saloon were trained on the two men.
“She ain’t no lady,” the man laughed, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Well, since you aren’t a gentleman, I could hardly expect you to know the difference,” said Michael. A few people who were standing at the bar close to the man, moved away from him, and out of the corner of his eye Michael saw the barman grab a thick stick from behind the bar, ready to join the fray.
“Michael?” Tony had noticed what was happening, and jumped up from the card table, taking a step toward him.
Just then, the man swung at Michael. He ducked, and the punch sailed straight over his head. He jabbed a quick one-two into the man’s flabby stomach, and sent him in a heap to the floor. As Michael turned to leave, two other men ran at him and were soon on top of him. A few of their flailing blows found their mark, but Michael fought them off without too much trouble. By now, the lady he had been defending had fled from the room, and several of the patrons were on their way out the door as well. Tony jumped into the fray, joining Michael as the entire saloon collapsed into an all-out brawl.
The barman tapped Michael on the shoulder, and brandished his stick with a frown. Michael nodded and made his way toward the door, intent on a quick exit with Tony right behind him. They stumbled through the doorway, and ran down the avenue, listening as the sounds of the brawl continued without them.
Puffing hard, they stopped on Main Street. Michael leaned against a wall, and rubbed his hands across his forehead, pulling his hat down low. Tony bent forward at the waist, resting his hands on his knees and breathing hard.
“What the heck, Michael?” he asked between gaps.
Michael chuckled, and they both burst into a fit of laughter. When they finally regained their breath, Michael said.
“I told you not to take me to a saloon, didn’t I?”
“Yes, I guess you did. But why can’t you just enjoy yourself like everyone else?”
“He was getting rough with a lady.” Just thinking about it again brought a fresh frown to his face.
“So what? You don’t know her.”
“I don’t have to know her. I just can’t stand by and watch it happening without doing something about it. You should know this about me by now.”
“You’re right. I should have known better. No more saloons for you.”
“Thank you. I just don’t have the stomach for them anyway. Give me an open field or a rugged mountain side, or a crystal clear creek any day of the week over a smoky, rodent-infested saloon.”
“But that’s where the women are. Aren’t you at least interested in meeting women?”
“No, not in a place like that. I want a wife, and I’m hardly going to find one at the Rusty Nail, am I?”
“You’ll not find one
in Austin, and that’s a fact,” Tony stood to his feet and began to make his way homeward.
“You might be right about that,” said Michael with a strange look on his face.
4
Ramona
“Look at this!” said Elizabeth, waving her hand at Ramona to beckon her back.
Ramona was walking down the stone steps of the Catholic Church that Elizabeth and her parents attended each Sunday morning for mass. Elizabeth had paused at the top of the stairs to point at something on the bulletin board just outside the church doors. A cream colored flyer flapped in the light breeze that came sailing through the city off the waters of the nearby bay. Ramona was distracted. She knew that Elizabeth’s parents wouldn’t allow her to stay in the apartment for much longer. She sighed loudly as she spun about on the stairs to face Elizabeth.
“What is it?”
“It’s a flyer for Mail Order Brides. It says here that men out on the frontier want women from New York to marry, Ramona. Why, this could be just the thing for you!”
Ramona screwed up her nose and sniffed.
“Really Lizzie,” Ramona said. “Do you really think that I’d be a Mail Order Bride and marry some man I’ve never met in a dusty town in some uncivilized western settlement? How would I ever get to Broadway if I did that? No thank you. Getting married is the last thing on my mind. Once you’re married, you’re never your own person again. My mother always told me that. She said, ‘Ramona, the moment you marry, your life is not your own,’ and she’d sigh like it had been a big mistake to give up her freedom. Well, not me. I’m going to follow my dreams, not get married and have babies. You know I want to go to Texas to find Mother, and then perform on Broadway. How would getting married help me do either of those two things?”
Elizabeth closed her mouth tightly, and made her way down the stairs, careful to avoid slipping on the icy ones, meeting Ramona halfway down. Ramona glared at her, then turned to follow her home. It was all well and good for Elizabeth to suggest marrying a stranger in some distant and lawless town when she had her handsome and successful lawyer here in New York to marry. It wouldn’t be Elizabeth having to go traipsing across the country to marry someone who could quite possibly be old and hideously ugly, and possibly even a criminal. Well, Ramona wasn’t such a beggar that she had to do it either, and she wasn’t about to turn her life upside down just because she happened to be running low on money and luck. She had dreams, and she was going to make them happen, somehow.