Calico Palace (60 page)

“Right here,” said Hiram.

Kendra left them. They heard her going down the hall and opening the door to the room where her baby lay in the crib, under the sheet Dr. Rollins had drawn up to cover him. They heard her close the door.

They waited. Mrs. Chase was wiping her eyes.

“What a sorrow,” Pocket said in a low voice.

“There’s no sorrow like it in the world,” said Serena. “Nobody can tell you what the sorrow is.”

She turned toward Ralph and hid her face on his shoulder. He put his arm around her. They stood together, remembering.

Hiram stood looking down at his big strong hands, as if he felt guilty before the helplessness of them.

It seemed a long time that they waited. At last Kendra came back. She stood in the doorway, facing them, white and rigid and almost fiercely strong. “Marny,” she said, “may I speak to you?”

Marny went to her. Kendra said to the others,

“Wait here for me.”

She led Marny into the hall. They stood by the front door where Kendra and Hiram had hung the Christmas wreath. Kendra held Marny’s hands. As before, her grip was so hard it hurt.

“Marny, be my friend.”

“Yes, Kendra.”

“There’s something I’ve got to do,” said Kendra. “I want you to come upstairs with me and when I’ve done it you can come down and tell the others.”

“Yes, Kendra.”

They went upstairs together, to the door of Loren’s room. Loren lay on the bed, gaunt and glitter-eyed with fever. Leaving Marny in the doorway Kendra went in and stood by the bed. “Loren,” she said, “it’s Marny. She wanted to come up for a minute.”

Loren managed to turn his head a little, and give Marny a weak smile. She smiled at him, and saw him shake as a pain tore at his side. Kendra knelt by the bed, her back to the door. Marny could not see her face.

In a weak voice Loren asked, “How’s Junior?”

Kendra spoke with a great effort, but clearly. “He’s well, Loren.”

Loren murmured, “Mighty—fine baby—don’t you think—Marny?”

“A beautiful baby,” said Marny. She thought her words sounded like the clinks of a chain. Her hands were clenched at her sides. But Loren was not strong enough to notice anything amiss. With a terrible effort Kendra said,

“The baby is well and Dr. Rollins wants him to stay well. He told me not to bring him up here yet. It’s still—so drafty—on the stairs.”

Loren said, “Right.” In a mumble so low Marny could barely hear him, he added, “Keep him warm. Thanks for—coming up—Marny.”

With her hand behind her Kendra made a gesture, waving Marny away. Marny said,

“I just wanted to speak to you for a minute, Loren. I’ll go down now.”

Loren murmured an almost inaudible goodby. Marny felt sure it was the last word she would ever hear him speak. She turned and left Kendra with him, kneeling by the bed.

Marny went down to the parlor. She shut the door and stood in front of it and told them what Kendra had done. They listened—Pocket and Hiram, Ralph and Serena, Mrs. Chase, kindly Dr. Rollins. Serena sobbed. Mrs. Chase cried silently. Hiram said, “God, what guts.”

Marny said, “If one of you, even by accident, says a word to let Loren know she was lying—I’ll shoot the one that does it.”

“You needn’t,” said Pocket. “I’ll do the shooting.”

Serena dried her eyes and steadied herself. “Would it help,” she asked, “if I went up to her?”

Marny was not sure what to say, but Pocket spoke without hesitation.

“No ma’am it would not. This is something she has to do alone. When she wants us, she knows where we are.”

Again they waited. Practical as always, Mrs. Chase went into the kitchen and brought back the pot of cocoa she had made a while ago. She filled a cup and brought it to Marny.

“Drink this,” she ordered. “It’s nourishing.” She filled another cup. “And Serena, you drink this. Don’t tell me you don’t want it. Somebody’s got to have some common sense around here.” Marny and Serena both obeyed her.

A few minutes later Kendra came in. Like Marny, she stood in front of the closed door, but at first she did not say anything. Mrs. Chase brought her a cup of cocoa, but she seemed not to see it. “Won’t you try to drink this, dear?” asked Mrs. Chase. As if not hearing her, Kendra said to them all, “Marny told you what I said to Loren?”

“Yes,” said Pocket. “We understand and we think you did right.”

“Thank you,” said Kendra. “And thank you for being here.” She stood where she was, not noticing Mrs. Chase, still waiting beside her with the cup.

The room was full of a dreadful silence. Nobody could say anything. It seemed as if nobody moved at all.

Then suddenly, Kendra winced. As if not aware of what she was doing, she put her hands up to her breasts. On her forehead was a swift spasm of pain. Her breasts, healthily full of milk the baby would never need, had begun to hurt.

Serena spoke. “I know what to do, Mrs. Shields. Come with me.”

“I’ll help you,” said Mrs. Chase. In her bustling fashion she put the untouched cup of cocoa on the table and hurried back to Kendra, glad to have something, anything, to do.

As she opened the door to the hall the doctor said heartily, “I’ll be with you in a minute, ladies.”

Kendra and Serena and Mrs. Chase went out. Ralph stood awkwardly where he was. Dr. Rollins spoke to Marny and Pocket and Hiram.

“You folks had better leave now, I expect. It’s going to be dark before long and you haven’t brought any lanterns. I’ll give Mrs. Shields a dose to make her sleep. She’s got to get some rest. She’s going to have a hard time the next few days. Maybe it would do her good if you came back tomorrow. Yes, I think it would do her good.”

“Tell her,” said Hiram, “we’ll be back in the morning.”

“I’ll tell her,” said the doctor. “And now, I’ll go help her out with what’s got to be done. You folks run along. There’s nothing you can do.”

“Here’s your shawl, Marny,” said Pocket.

They went out. They had never felt so helpless in their lives.

They came back the next day, and the next. On the second day, which was New Year’s Eve, Mr. Chase and Mr. Fenway were there too. With them was the pastor of the Baptist Church, built last summer higher up the hill on Washington Street, and a man from the new Green Oak cemetery north of town. While Dr. Rollins sat with Loren, making sure he would not know what was going on, the pastor said a prayer over the baby’s little body and gave Kendra such comfort as he could. Then the man from the cemetery took the body away.

Kendra endured it all somehow. When they praised her courage she said only, “This is something I’ve got to do.” Mr. Chase and Mr. Fenway went back to the store. But Marny and Pocket and Hiram sat in the parlor for the rest of the day, knowing their presence was in some way a help, though they could not have told just how.

That night there was a howling torrent of rain. But the next morning, New Year’s Day, there was a strong wind and the sky cleared. The streets, however, were streaks of black slush, and when Hiram and Pocket came by the store, shivering and mud-spattered, they told Marny she should not try to climb the hill.

While she waited for them Marny had been playing solitaire. She was alone in the stockroom, for the boys had demanded a holiday and the store was closed. Gathering up her cards, she spoke with resolution. Certainly she could climb the hill. As long as Kendra needed her she would be there.

She told them Norman had come in earlier, and if Norman could get through the streets so could she. Norman had been in a jubilant mood. The steamer
Oregon
had sailed for the Isthmus at eight o’clock this morning, carrying sixty-two thousand ounces of gold and two hundred and eighty passengers. The vessel was so crowded that the passengers had staked out sleeping room anywhere they could find it, including several spaces they had chalked on the dining table. This did not concern Norman. What did concern him and made his heart rejoice was that so many of these passengers had bought their tickets at high prices from his and Marny’s collection.

“If they could get to the steamer, half of them in that storm last night,” said Marny, “I can get to Kendra’s house. Besides, boys, I’ve been looking out of the window. I’ve seen quite a few dandies, all dressed up, setting out to make New Year’s calls. If they can get around, so can I.”

They saw that she had her high mud-boots ready beside her. Hiram said,

“You’ll ruin your dress.”

Marny retorted, “It’s Kendra’s dress.”

Hiram looked helplessly at Pocket.

“It’s no use,” Pocket said to him. “Come on, Marny.”

They started out, stepping cautiously on the rickety sidewalks. In spite of her care, several times Marny did go knee-deep into the mud, and by the time they reached Kendra’s house Hiram’s prediction was fulfilled: her skirt was drabbled and spattered, and torn by the rough edges of the planks beyond much hope of repair. Mrs. Chase met them at the door.

She told them their vigil was ended. Loren had died shortly before dawn, while the storm was still raging.

“And Kendra?” they all three asked together.

Mrs. Chase said that for Kendra, Nature had mercifully reasserted itself. Kendra had been up all night. When Loren died, Mr. and Mrs. Chase had been at home asleep, but this morning as soon as the storm ceased Ralph had come to tell them. They had come here at once. Ralph and Mr. Chase had folded up the cot that had been placed for Kendra at the foot of Loren’s bed, and had set it up again in the parlor. Here, Kendra had simply fallen upon it. In hardly more than a minute she was lost in sleep, the deep, almost statuelike sleep that follows utter exhaustion of body and spirit.

“And she did what she tried to do?” asked Marny. “Loren never knew about the baby?”

Mrs. Chase gave them a smile that was proud and tender. “He never knew.”

“Thank God,” Pocket said softly, and Hiram said, “Amen.”

Marny had a sense of relief. She ought to feel sorrow, she was thinking, at the death of so fine a man as Loren, but just now she only felt glad that this much of Kendra’s ordeal was over.

Mrs. Chase was telling them that Mr. Chase had gone to see the pastor, to make arrangements for the funeral. “When they decide on the time,” she said to Pocket, “you can post a notice on the wall of the reading room in the library.”

Pocket said he would.

“And tell Kendra,” said Marny, “if there’s anything she wants me to do she can send word by Ralph, and I’ll do it.”

Mrs. Chase nodded. “You’re a real sweet girl, Marny,” she acknowledged.

They went back down the hill. As they reached the plaza Marny spoke eagerly. “Boys, I know you have a lot to do, to make up for all this lost time. But would you walk a few steps on Kearny Street with me so I can see how we’re getting on with the Calico Palace?”

They would and they did. The new Calico Palace was growing apace. The last time Marny had stood here looking at it had been Saturday morning; now it was Tuesday, and in those few days how much had been done! The carpenters were at work. New Year’s Day might be a holiday, but these ambitious Chinese did not care. It was not their New Year, and Yankee customs were less important to them than Yankee wages.

Kearny Street was all agog with recovery. The El Dorado was going up, the foundation was laid for the new Parker House. Denison’s Exchange was nearly done. Tarpaper and toothpicks it might be, but at this rate Mr. Denison would be back in business long before the contractor’s allotted sixteen days.

Marny gave a joyful sigh. When the old Calico Palace had burnt up she had felt as if a part of herself had died. Now, watching the new Calico Palace going up, she felt as if a new part of herself was being born.

She caught sight of Dwight Carson striding toward them over the planks that the carpenters had laid in the mud. When he reached them they told him about Loren’s death. Dwight was genuinely sorry. What a pity, he said. A man of rare worth, with everything to live for. He would certainly attend the funeral.

“Mighty good of you fellows,” he said to Pocket and Hiram, “to bring Marny here. I suppose she’ll want to see everything, won’t you, Marny? I’ll show her around. You boys needn’t wait. I know you’ve got your own business to attend to.”

Hiram and Pocket took the hint and went on their way. Dwight put a hand on Marny’s elbow.

“Be careful of the mud, Marny. I’ll show you the safe places.”

“Since the mud has already wrecked my dress,” said Marny, “a little more damage won’t matter. I want to see
everything.
”

He showed her. His enthusiasm was like sun and warmth after the heartrending days just behind her. How
nice
he was, she thought; how—what the Mexicans called
simpatico.
There was no real translation for
simpatico.
It was just a word to describe a person you liked.

By the time he had shown her all the work done on the Calico Palace, his watch said it was past two o’clock and Dwight said he was famished. He told her Delmonico’s, saved from the fire, was serving first-class meals again, and wouldn’t she go there with him? Marny was hungry too, but she hesitated. A woman in a restaurant was such a novelty, would she be given enough peace and quiet to eat a meal? And even more important, her skirt was torn and wet and bedraggled with mud, and she wasn’t fit to be seen.

Dwight serenely answered her objections. He would see to it that she had peace and quiet. As for her dress, she would be sitting at table, nobody would see the mud spatters on her skirt, and from the waist up she was as neat as she always was, and as pleasant to look at.

This was not quite true. Marny glanced down at her sleeve, where a splash of mud had struck when a cart jogged past her. But the fact was, every man in the restaurant would be muddy because today it was impossible not to be, and it had been a long time since she had had a good dinner. She consented, and they walked along Kearny Street to Delmonico’s.

Her entrance did cause a stir, and the twenty or thirty men present gave her a noisy welcome, but Dwight sat beside her with an air of proud challenge, and not one of them gave her so much as a nudge of the elbow. The stewards brought her the best meal she had had since Kendra’s holiday feast. The roast beef was really good, and with it were some rare treats just off a schooner from Honolulu—yams and slices of pumpkin, and for dessert bananas, and coconuts brought to the table and cracked there, so diners could have the meat fresh from the shell.