Calico Palace (79 page)

Norman yielded. He and Troy left her alone.

Marny changed her black satin dress and parlor shoes for a long loose robe and a pair of soft slippers. She took down her hair, and shook it around her shoulders. Pouring another drink of brandy into the toothbrush glass, she stretched out in the armchair, her feet resting on a hassock. Within reach on the dressing table lay her nugget necklace and her little gun, and in the table drawer was a pack of cards. When she had finished this drink, she reflected, she would take out the cards and ask them if she should still be afraid of Pollock or if in the future she could feel secure.

She was sipping the brandy when she heard a knock, and Kendra came in. Marny thought she had never seen Kendra looking so well. Kendra wore the blue silk dress and carried a dark wrap over her arm. The night airs had ruffled her hair into a pretty disorder. The dress matched the blue of her eyes, her cheeks were bright, her whole appearance was that of a woman aglow with joy. Such happiness shared itself. Leaning back in her chair and looking up at Kendra, Marny almost forgot her own ordeal.

“Where’s Hiram?” Marny asked.

“Waiting. He didn’t come with me because Norman told us you wanted to be alone. Do you want Hiram to come in? He’ll understand if you say no.”

“Of course I want him to come in,” said Marny. “I was tired of so many people fluttering around, that’s all. You and Hiram will be a comfort.”

Kendra brought Hiram. As he reached Marny he gave her a big warm grin and took her hand in a big warm grasp. Hiram was festively dressed, in a black broadcloth suit and a ruffled white shirt and gloves of pearl gray kid, and he carried a high silk hat in his hand. “A fine man you’ve got, Kendra,” Marny remarked.

“I like him,” Kendra said happily.

“We like each other,” said Hiram. “But right now,” he went on, “we’re concerned about you. Can we help?”

Marny glanced at Kendra. “I suppose they told you what happened?”

“Not all the details,” said Kendra. “We didn’t wait for those. But don’t bother to tell us now. Don’t try to do anything but get over the shock.”

Marny gave her a grateful smile. “I do feel shivery,” she confessed. “Am I still scared or is the wind rising?”

“You’re still scared,” said Hiram. “The wind is gentle tonight, what sailors call a lady’s wind. Now if you’d like to go to sleep you can do it without worrying. I’ll stand guard at the door, all night if you want me.”

Marny drew the deep sort of breath she had not been able to draw while Pollock stood before her. “You’re a dear man, Hiram, and I may want you to stay, but I’m not sleepy yet. It seems like hours since I left the parlor, but it really isn’t late.” She glanced at the clock, which showed the time to be not yet twelve. Marny rarely went to bed before three. She reached into the dressing table drawer and took out the pack of cards.

“I might have known it,” said Hiram. He and Kendra both laughed understandingly.

Marny reached for his hand and stood up. “First I’d like to see how Geraldine is doing. Geraldine saved my life—I’ll tell you about it later.”

The three of them went into the boudoir. In the hut, Geraldine and family were snugly asleep.

Marny gave herself a long stretch. “I’m feeling better. Let’s go back to the bedroom and I’ll lay out the cards and tell our—”

Her voice broke with a gasp. A shudder ran through her whole body.

“Oh God,” she cried out, “Not tonight! I can’t stand any more!”

They had all three recoiled at the same moment. As Marny gasped her terror Kendra had given a cry that was almost a scream, and Hiram had burst out in fury, “Those damned baboons! Again!”

The firebells were ringing.

At that instant, as Marny and Kendra and Hiram stood half paralyzed with shock, while the bells clanged over the plaza and other shouts of rage and horror broke out in the streets, they knew what was happening. The truth came to them as it came to the rest of San Francisco.

Those thieving murderers of Clark’s Point were doing exactly what they had said they were going to do. They had planned it with taunting care. The clock showed the time to be nearly midnight. A few more ticks, and the date would be the fourth of May, anniversary of last year’s great fire.

The hoodlums had talked about their purpose. With contemptuous laughter they had observed that the decent people simply could not believe them. But they had meant what they said. They wanted another spree of good looting and they were going to get it. They were burning up the town again.

All through that night one thought kept repeating itself in Marny’s mind, over and over with compulsive sameness. —I’ve been through this before. Why must I go through it again, and again? I’m tired of it. I’m
tired.

The thought kept coming back even when she was not thinking, even when all she felt was resentment at this horrendous monotony. She did resent it. She resented the lack of imagination among the hoodlums.

—They might at least do something different, she said to herself. Not the same thing all over again.

But it
was
the same thing all over again, only larger and more destructive than ever before. This fire, the fifth great fire she had seen in San Francisco, was the worst fire of them all.

The fire had been set in a paint store on Clay Street facing the plaza. The store was owned by two men named Baker and Meserve. Because of the flammable nature of their stock, the partners had agreed that one of them would stay every evening after employees and customers had left, and go through the building to look for any lamp or candle that might have been forgotten. Tonight it had been the turn of Mr. Meserve. He had searched the store, made sure all was dark, locked the doors, and gone home.

Several hours later a man crossing the plaza happened to glance at a window in the upper story of the paint store. Through the windowpane he saw a little bright flicker. He shouted an alarm. The bells began to ring, the engines responded with their usual bang and clatter as the firemen raced them through the streets. They dashed to the plaza as fast as they could, but it was not fast enough. When the man in the plaza gave the alarm the flame was no bigger than a woman’s handkerchief, but it grew and ripped through the building with appalling speed. Before the first engine reached the plaza the whole upper story of the paint store was crackling like a matchbox. In less than a minute the buildings on either side were burning too, and the fire was rushing down Clay Street toward Kearny Street and the Calico Palace.

For chance, or fate, or whatever you wanted to name it, had intervened. When the first alarm sounded, the breeze over the city was hardly more than a zephyr, blowing gently from the west. But as if the firebells had roused some sleeping god of the storms, almost at that same moment this “lady’s wind,” as Hiram had called it, turned into a gale.

The gale swept the fire eastward. It blew with such force that the firemen had barely begun to play their hose on the paint store when they saw flames tear into the sky from a restaurant on Kearny Street. Before they could move their engines they saw more flames rising from banks and business houses a block farther east on Montgomery. In a fearfully few minutes the richest quarter of the city was tottering and the wind was driving the fire on toward the waterfront and the shipping in the bay.

Marny and Hiram and Kendra had run along the hall from Marny’s room to a front window overlooking the plaza. As they saw the fire leaping so close to them Kendra gave a start of horror and Hiram wheeled around toward her.

“Get out!” he shouted.

Kendra said breathlessly, “This building is supposed to be—”

“I don’t care what it’s supposed to be. Get out, I say!” Hiram grabbed her hands. He was about to draw her toward the stairs when he saw Marny running down the hall, not toward the stairs but back toward her bedroom. He ran after her, almost dragging Kendra with him, and caught the sleeve of Marny’s robe. “Where the hell are you going?”

She answered with a force equal to his own. “I’m on my way to get a few things I need. And Kendra needs a few things too. If you want her to go into the street tonight without a gun you’re a fool.” Marny jerked at the sleeve he was holding. “Turn me loose.”

Kendra spoke with emphasis. “Hiram, she’s right.”

From the floors below they heard men shouting, glasses breaking, chairs and tables falling over. The gamblers were scuffling as they tried to gather up their own or other men’s wagers, banging doors as they ran out to save whatever they could. Hiram spoke to Marny, more calmly this time.

“Of course you’re right, Marny. I always want to be in too much of a hurry. Get your gun.”

They hurried back toward the bedrooms. Kendra ran into her room to get her own gun. It was the same revolver that Archwood had bought for her from a gambler, in the days when the Calico Palace had been a tent and she used to carry her cupcakes across the vacant lot on a tray. She had not worn the gun for so long that she fumbled and had to call Hiram to help her put it into the holster and buckle the belt.

As for Marny, the compulsive words had already begun to run through her head like a jingle. —I’ve been through this before. Why again, and again? And why does it happen again that I’m wearing a long clumsy robe to trail behind me and get in the way? I’ve been through every bit of this before. I’m tired of it.

She did not take time to get dressed, but she did pause to change her bedroom slippers for a pair of strong shoes. She had not forgotten her flight through the Christmas fire in those thin party slippers that broke to pieces in the mud.

Her thoughts were racing. The Calico Palace might or might not be fireproof. But no building was proof against looters unless it was guarded. Maybe Norman would want her to stay and stand by some door or window with her gun. If he wanted her here she was not going to run away. But if she did leave the building she was going to take Geraldine with her, and the kittens. Geraldine had saved her life and she was going to take care of Geraldine.

Already, at the first alarm, she had latched the door of Geraldine’s hut to keep her and the kittens inside. Now she dipped a towel into the water pitcher, wrung it out, and draped it over the hut. This would protect the cats from flying sparks. She cut a slash in the towel, through which she could grasp the handle and carry the hut like a traveling bag. When Hiram and Kendra came back along the hall Marny met them at the door of her room, her gun in one hand and the other hand holding the hut, with Geraldine crying with fright and anger inside it. Marny said,

“She thinks there’s entirely too much going on around here. I think so too.”

As she spoke, Norman and the Blackbeards came hurrying up the stairs. At sight of Marny and Kendra, Norman paused and said to the Blackbeards,

“You go on up. I’ll be there in a minute.” He said to Marny, “We’re on our way to open the roof tank.”

“Oh please God,” she murmured fervently, “let it work.” Hiram added, “Amen,” and Kendra whispered a hope of her own. As the Blackbeards went on toward the stairs that would take them to the roof, Marny spoke to Norman. “Is there any help I can give you here, Norman? If there is, I’ll stay.”

Norman gave her a shrewd, almost humorous look. “Marny, you’re so wobbly tonight, as a guard you wouldn’t be worth a fried egg.”

Marny smiled. She liked his merciless candor.

“Come on!” Hiram exclaimed. He was waiting impatiently, his arm around Kendra. Marny could go or stay as she pleased, but he was in haste to get Kendra outside. Norman was saying to Marny,

“Take this with you.” He held out a poke heavy with coins.

“I can’t,” said Marny. “My hands are full.”

Norman glanced at the gun, which he approved of, then his gaze fell on the hut covered with the wet towel. His eyes bulged. “What’s that?”

Marny said steadily, “The cats.”

“Cats!” he exploded. “Leave those damn cats. Take this poke.”

“I won’t,” said Marny.

“Dwight Carson guaranteed—”

“If the building is safe, the poke is safe. If the building burns, the coins will melt. But I’m looking after Geraldine.”

“Come
on
!” shouted Hiram.

In a sputter of unholy words Norman told Marny her mind was failing and it would not distress him if she and the cats all got burned to a crisp. Leaving him to sputter, Marny went with Hiram and Kendra toward the staircase, but as she neared the top step she turned to call over her shoulder.

“Norman, Captain Pollock’s revolver is on the table in my room. It might come in handy.”

Without answering, Norman stalked off. Hiram held out his hand toward Geraldine’s hut.

“Want me to carry that, Marny?”

“Thanks,” she said briefly, and gave the hut to him. “It’s an awkward load,” she added. “We’ll take turns carrying it.”

“Now,” said Hiram, “let’s go.”

They started down. On the lower flights, gamblers and their lady friends were hurrying toward the front door.

Gun in one hand and Geraldine’s hut in the other, Hiram went ahead of Marny and Kendra to make sure the staircase was clear. They pressed close behind him. All around them they heard a medley of noises—creaks and crashes and screams of fear, the jangle of firebells and the rising roar of the flames. Then, from over their heads, they heard a clank of machinery and a rush of water.

Marny caught her breath. “Oh, thank God!” she cried.

She ran on down the stairs, panting, and at the same time almost laughing in her thankfulness. Norman had opened the roof tank. Stored in the tank, as Marny well knew, were eighty-two thousand gallons of water. Would it save the Calico Palace? This she did not know.

At the main exit one of the bartenders stood guard with the dealer from Harvard. Marny and Kendra and Hiram made their way outside, into the glare and smoke and turmoil of Kearny Street.

The blaze was so strong that they could see as clearly as by daylight. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of people were crowding the streets around the plaza. As usual, some of them were doing useful work, some were slipping off with whatever they had managed to steal, others were running around in hysterics, getting nowhere. (—I’ve seen it all before, thought Marny.)