Calico Palace (7 page)

The boys were three young fellows known as Bert, Al, and Foxy. As she came into the storeroom they looked around, grinned at the pleasing sight of her, and said, “Howdy, miss.” Ted was not there.

The storeroom was dim and cold. The room reminded her of a vault and Mr. Fenway reminded her of a ghost. Kendra took a dozen steps, Mr. Fenway accompanying her in sepulchral silence. She could curb her eagerness no longer. In a carefully level voice she asked, “Where is Ted Parks this morning, Mr. Fenway?”

With a sad shake of his head Mr. Fenway answered, “Ted Parks is gone.”

Kendra thought she was going to fall. She steadied herself against a barrel. “Gone?” she repeated faintly. “Gone where?”

“Say, Foxy!” called Bert’s voice behind her. “Don’t put those candles so near the edge of the shelf. They’ll roll off. Push ’em back.”

Mr. Fenway had turned toward another shelf close at hand and was reaching for a box. Over his shoulder he answered Kendra’s question.

“Gone to Sutter’s Fort. On that launch.” With a sigh he droned on. “Don’t know what’s come over young men these days. In my time we didn’t walk off a job without notice. Parks had easy hours, good pay, room over the store to live in. No gratitude. He comes in here yesterday, says he’s leaving. Packs his duds and walks out. Times have changed. Now miss, we’ve got these nice dried pears from Oregon—”

L
IFE WENT ON, BUT
life without Ted was dull and cold. One day was like another. Nothing happened.

Kendra continued to prepare the meals because it was something to do, and the army men continued to tell Alex he was the luckiest man in town. Kendra received several proposals of marriage from lonely young officers, most of whom she hardly knew. She declined as gently as she could. They were fine young men. But no matter how hard she tried she could not think of herself getting into bed with any of these fine young men. With Ted she could think of it; she had thought of it often, without trying.

Now and then she heard people talking about the gold from Sutter’s sawmill, but usually they agreed with Mr. Fenway that it would not amount to much. A few waterfront loafers, always looking for an easy way to get rich, roamed off to the hills. But sensible folk, warned by the fiasco down south, were not excited.

There was no news of Ted. To take his place Chase and Fenway hired a young man named Hodge, from Missouri. Hodge did his duty, but he had not Ted’s winning manners nor his schooling. Ted could write well phrased business letters and read the Latin terms in contracts, both feats beyond the power of Hodge. They missed Ted.

Kendra wished she had a friend to talk to. But she had not. Certainly not her mother. They did not know each other well enough.

But with April the weather brightened, and the
Cynthia
came in from Honolulu. Kendra felt a lift of her spirits. It would be good to see Captain Pollock and Loren again.

The morning after the
Cynthia
arrived, Captain Pollock came to call. Kendra was on the porch when she heard the sound of hoofs and saw him riding up the hill.

He rode up Clay Street, and at the corner of Stockton he turned his horse. As he rode he looked awkward, and Kendra was surprised, for she had never seen Captain Pollock look awkward at anything. But of course, she rebuked herself, seamen were nearly always poor riders because they had so little riding to do. You could not expect a sea captain to ride like an army man who spent half his life in a saddle.

A short way past the corner a dwarf oak grew by the side of the road. Here Captain Pollock dismounted, tethered his horse to the tree, and started walking. Before he had taken six steps Kendra knew something had gone wrong.

She watched him with puzzled wonder. Now she could tell that his way of riding had not been merely a seaman’s clumsiness. And the way he walked was not merely the uncertain land-walk of a man just off a ship. He was
different.

Whether on sea or land, usually Captain Pollock strode over the world with masterful sureness. But not today. Today his head was bent, his shoulders slumped. He was carrying two packages wrapped in red and gold paper, no doubt gifts he had brought from some palmy shore, and his footsteps crunched on the ground as if these two small packages made a burden almost too heavy to be borne. His whole attitude was so despondent that when he came near the steps and looked up at her, and she saw the lines of strain above his ruddy beard, and his usually steel-bright eyes cloudy like the eyes of a man who had spent a sleepless night, this only confirmed what she had guessed already. Something had gone wrong.

Captain Pollock was trying to act as if nothing was the matter. As he reached the steps he took off his blue cap, and bowed, saying gallantly, “What a pleasure to see you again, Miss Logan!”

With a smile that she hoped was hiding her concern, Kendra showed him into the parlor and went to call her mother. Eva came in and gave him a cordial welcome.

Pollock responded with stiff courtesy. Trying though he was to seem normal, he was finding it hard to do. He handed Eva and Kendra the gifts he had brought. These proved to be lacquered boxes, which later would serve to hold gloves or handkerchiefs, but which were now filled, one with Chinese tea and the other with slices of sugared ginger. They thanked him, and Eva added, “I hope we’ll see you often while you’re in port, Captain Pollock.”

“Won’t you come to dinner,” asked Kendra, “one evening soon?”

Captain Pollock shook his head. “You are very kind, but I must say no. I’ll be in port only a short time, and I have much to do.”

He spoke so crisply that Kendra felt uncomfortable. It seemed clear that he had made this call solely for the sake of good manners and would be glad when he could get it over with. Eva was saying pleasantly,

“But you’ll come back to San Francisco, I hope, before you leave the Pacific entirely?”

Captain Pollock said yes. His plan was to go on to Canton and several other Oriental ports, and call at San Francisco again next spring, before returning to New York.

Eva said she would be glad to see him then. There was some conversation about what ports he expected to visit, but he was so ill at ease that even she could not help feeling chilled. There was an awkward pause. To fill it in Kendra asked,

“Captain Pollock, how is Loren Shields?”

As she spoke Loren’s name the captain gave a start. His answer was almost gruff.

“Mr. Shields,” he said, “is no longer with us.”

Kendra caught her breath in astonishment. Loren was a man who did his work well. Light-hearted he was, but not fight-minded. He would never have broken his contract. Nor could he have been dismissed except for some outrageous breach of duty, and she could not believe him guilty of any such thing. Something had certainly gone wrong.

Eva too was startled. She asked if Loren had stayed in Honolulu.

Captain Pollock said no. Loren had returned to San Francisco on the
Cynthia,
but upon arrival their contract had been dissolved by mutual consent.

His answer was brief to the point of terseness. Observing that he did not care to discuss the matter, Eva tactfully changed the subject by asking if he would not take a cup of tea, with some cinnamon wafers Kendra had baked yesterday.

Captain Pollock declined. He said he must leave them now. As master of a ship newly arrived he had many imperative duties.

When he had gone Eva spoke to Kendra, mystified. “What
is
the matter with him?”

Kendra said she too had been wondering, but she had no idea.

When Alex came in that evening he said the
Cynthia
’s return voyage from Honolulu had been unfortunate. Her journey out had been quick—only seventeen days—and the voyage back had begun well. But on the way she had met a storm, which had blown her off course and lengthened the voyage to twenty-three days.

Eva said this must have been the reason for Captain Pollock’s dejection, but Kendra did not think so. She could understand that Pollock would be disappointed, but she could not believe the storm alone would have made him so depressed. Pollock had been twenty years at sea. He knew the noblest ship ever made could not defy the wind. Besides, this did not explain his break with Loren. Certainly Loren had not blown up the storm.

The next morning brought that rare delight, a day of unclouded sun. The wind had cleared the sky; the bay was a great wide glitter of water, and the dingy little town of San Francisco looked liked a smudge on a golden world. Kendra and Eva rode down the hill escorted by Morse and Vernon.

Both men were talking eagerly. They were planning another dance, and Eva had promised to help with the decorations. Vernon told her the New York Store had Chinese lanterns and other Oriental ornaments, brought over on the
Eagle.
Wouldn’t she like to see these?

Indeed she would, Eva exclaimed. “Shall we go to the New York Store?” she asked Kendra.

“Why don’t you go there,” Kendra suggested, “and leave me at Chase and Fenway’s? They have a much better selection of groceries, and Mr. Hodge is so helpful.”

She said it with a bright smile, to hide the fact that this was not her real reason. Her real reason was that at Chase and Fenway’s she had her best chance to hear of Ted. Mr. Fenway had said Ted had “packed his duds” and left, but this was not strictly true. In his hurry Ted had not packed all his duds. Hodge, who now occupied Ted’s former room over the store, had mentioned that Parks had left various objects behind him: shirts and shoes, a razor, and even—Hodge said respectfully—some books. An honest fellow, Hodge had stored all these in a box and put the box under the bed, in case Parks should come back. Kendra kept hoping he would.

Not knowing any of this, Eva agreed to Kendra’s suggestion. They all four went into Chase and Fenway’s, for Eva would never have let Kendra go in alone. She wanted it seen that her daughter was always well protected.

Mr. Fenway was roaming about with an oil can, anointing the locks and hinges. At the counter Mr. Chase was bargaining with a rancher who had brought produce to town. The packing boys were lugging boxes from the storeroom, and the fellow called Pocket sat by the stove, reading the
Star.
Pocket had already sent a boatload of goods up to his employer, Mr. Smith, but Smith’s partner, the Mormon leader Sam Brannan, had gone to Sutter’s Fort and had told Pocket he could stay a while in town. Pocket was more neat these days than when he first came in with his rag of gold. He now got regular shaves and kept his trousers brushed, and today he wore a new plaid shirt, though all his pockets bulged as before.

Kendra had seen so few sunny days in San Francisco that she was astonished at the difference the sun made in the store. The bare boards of the walls seemed almost to glisten. From a side window a brilliant shaft of light slanted across the front door, brightening the entrance and deepening the shadows at the side. As Kendra and the others came in, the door swung silently shut behind them, but the men in the store heard the sound of military boots, and turned.

Seeing Kendra and Eva in the beam of sun, Pocket laid down his newspaper and politely stood up. Pocket liked women, and Kendra had several times heard the packing boys say how much women liked Pocket. Mr. Fenway sauntered forward, and Eva told him she was going to leave Kendra in his care while she went with Morse and Vernon to see the Chinese decorations at the New York Store. She laughed tactfully. “You’ll forgive me for taking business to your competitor, Mr. Fenway?”

“They need some business at that store,” Mr. Fenway said with mournful satisfaction. “I hear they’re having a hard time getting rid of all that Chinese stuff.” This thought cheered him so much that he continued to look pleased for two or three seconds before returning to his usual gloom.

When Eva had gone, Hodge gave Kendra her basket and she went into the storeroom. The boys had brought out several boxes holding tobacco, matches, playing cards, and other small items for which they had constant demand, and were now arranging these on the shelves behind the counter. They grinned admiringly as she passed, and Pocket looked up to give her a shy smile.

The storeroom was dim and cheerless, for it had only two small windows and these were on the side away from the sun. Kendra chose what she wanted, but it was dull work without Ted and in a few minutes she was done. She went back to the door leading into the front room.

After the gloom of the storeroom the sun across the main entrance was almost dazzling. Kendra paused in the doorway to let her eyes get used to the light.

Mr. Chase had gone out with the rancher. At the shelves behind the counter the boys were working little and talking much, while Hodge and Mr. Fenway conferred with another customer, a dusty character addressed as Mr. Ingram. In spite of his earthy appearance Mr. Ingram seemed to be a valuable patron, for in one gnarled hand he held a paper on which was written a long list of items he wanted to buy. Pocket, back at his newspaper, was rubbing one hand over his newly shaved face as if he could not get used to the smooth feel of it. Pocket had a clean-cut jaw and strong features, and since she had been seeing him whiskerless Kendra had observed that he was quite a handsome man.

All of a sudden, as if he had heard his name, Pocket turned toward the front door. Kendra could see his face in profile. His lips parted with a quick intake of breath, and he smiled, like a man who opens a smudgy window and sees a rainbow.

There had been no sound of the door’s opening—there never was—but now it did seem to Kendra that she too had heard something, a faint rustle maybe, but it had been so faint that she had hardly noticed it. Now she turned her head and saw what Pocket was looking at.

Full in the flood of sunshine stood a girl.

Any girl was an event in San Francisco, but this girl, anywhere, would have taken a man’s thoughts away from what he should have been doing. She had red hair and green eyes and a sumptuous figure, and she wore a green silk dress that matched her eyes, and a fashionable straw bonnet with green ribbons. Her face was not perfect, but the look of it was warmer and more tempting than orthodox beauty. It was an unexpected face—full lips, short impudent nose, and freckles. She had so many freckles that she looked as if somebody had sprayed her with powdered gold.