The Jewels of Nebraska, 18 -The Baby's name

Ruby's throat felt as if some had poured a bucket of sand and dirt down it. She swallowed involuntarily which made her grimace. She held a seat cushion from the truck over her head for a scant amount of shade from the Utah sun. Her feet began to scuff on the ground, it was getting harder to raise them up over, and over, and over.

The stolen truck with the mis-wired sparkplugs had made it an hour or so from the burning “Heaven” compound, but, with some terrible banging from the engine, it quit and wouldn't even turn over again. By sunrise the truck was just a speck on the horizon.

Ruby tried to ignore the calculations that kept popping up in her head, the numbers of hours the truck had taken to get from the main road to the compound the day they arrived, multiplied by how many times slower  her stumbling along on foot was.

How long can one go without water? How long before a car will come along on the main road, even if she made it. She thought about the truck sitting in the road with it's gasoline tank nearly full. 

If only she'd thought to steal as much water as she did fuel.

She was reminded of a picture she seen where the hero and heroine were stranded in the desert. They walked miles over endless dunes and finally collapsed in the sand. A man on a camel came and gave them water and they went on to defeat the evil sheik.

Ruby didn't think anyone was going to turn up on a camel with water, but the idea that she might die like she was in a movie had a nice romantic sound to it.

I was silent for a long time as we made our way to my folks house in the dark streets of Omaha. Charlotte held the babe close. She was speaking softly to her child almost without cease. I couldn't hear the words, but, like the baby, the tone I could understand perfectly.

After a while Charlotte seemed to be slowing and hiking the baby up more often.

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

“Yes I'm... No... No, I'm afraid not. I don't think I've ever walked so far in my life.”

I knew what I had to do, but I was nearly petrified with fear. “Um... Perhaps I should. Rather... well, um, take the baby, you know, just for a while. You could hang on my arm for support then.”

“Yes, perhaps that would be best.” She prepared to hand me the bundle. “You've held a baby before?”

“Ah, in truth, no ma’am, never once.”

I could see from the concern on her face was not from my words but the fear I had allowed to show on my face.

“It's not hard,” she said kindly. “You just have to support her fontanel.”

"What?"

"Her head darling."

“Why?”

“You just have to.”

I looked down at the baby in Charlotte's arms, her sleeping face peered out from the blankets framing it. So pure and delicate, and I was to hold her, a helpless life in my arms.What if it cried, what if it wet on me? What if I dropped it?!

I was never so want of a baby carriage in all my days. Perhaps my new life of crime had taken hold, for I looked around for one to steal.

“It's okay, really, you'll do fine.” She passed the baby to my reluctant arms.

It began to fuss and cry. I tried to adjust the thing somehow, maintaining a safe and presumably upright position that supported it's rubbery head. Eventually she was against my chest and left shoulder, her head resting on the curve of my neck. She stopped crying. I started breathing again.

“You see, she's fine, you're doing just fine.”

Charlotte hung on my arm as we made our way through the quiet streets. I felt the warmth of both of them. The baby would once in a while kick, or move it's arms. My fear had not gone away, not completely but it was accompanied by something new, something I'd never felt before. Surely it was love, but not like any I had felt before. We had only a few miles to go, but I could have walked fifty.

William looked at the wooden bowl before him. He was hungry, that was for sure, but the root mash was one of the worst things he had ever tasted. He looked around at the others in the circle. The Indians were digging from their bowls barely pausing to speak. Later in the day there were often dried strips of meat, of what animal William had no idea. They too were bland with no salt shaker, not to mention a table to put it on, but a whole lot tastier than the roots.

It had been weeks since he had even slept in a proper bed but he liked when he could see the stars. He felt  like a cowboy in the pictures.

Ben and Kohn and their guides had been gone for two days. William was mostly bored. He wanted to pull his weight, but it was plain only women did the day-to-day work. He was too young to hunt with the men and he couldn't communicate with anyone.

William spent most of his time taking walks and taking pictures with his camera. Of course there was no film, but he put his eye to the view finder and clicked the shutter all the same. He tried hard to ingrain the images he found interesting in his mind. A large rock formation, a hawk perched on a dead tree, a network of canyons that stretched to the horizon.

After the meal of root mash he was on one of his photo safaris. He saw a group of hunters on horseback across a canyon. He framed a picture to 'take'. 

The image in the view finder looked just like a movie. Instead of clicking the shutter he followed them like a picture show. He noticed that unlike a picture show, his view bounced and jiggled with his movement no matter how hard he tried to keep it steady.

He lied on the ground and found a rock that had a rounded point on top. He rested the camera on the rock and found the men and horses in his view finder again. The camera rocked a bit, but once he got the hang of it he could follow the distant movement with a smooth and steady flow. It really looked like a movie. He imagined the scene in sepia tones and the sound of the piano playing Indian sorts of music.

“Much better.” he said.

“You are a strange one, lovely boy.” said a voice directly over him.

William rolled over with a start. The figure was just a silhouette against the afternoon sun. A dress with hands on it's hips and legs astride.

“You scared me!” William yelled.

“It is not my fault that whites can barely hear or see.”

He laughed. “You must think I'm deaf, maybe blind too.”

William sat up and picked his camera up from where it had toppled off the rock. Little Wind sat beside him.

“Cam-er-a.” He said.

“Camera yes,” she said in English. “I have seen your picture boxes before, a white man came once. His picture box was much bigger than yours. He put it on a tree with three trunks.” she motioned with her hands.

“I think I understand. One day I will have a camera like that and I will take pictures of you.” He made a frame around her face and smiled.”

“I think that you are being sweet... husband.”

“I wish I could understand you. I could teach you English ya know. Do you want to learn English? English?”

Little wind made a motion William took to be a sort-of shrug.

“You... learn... talk... English.” He motioned to her, then his lips several times.

She looked coyly at him for a moment, then leaned over and quickly kissed his lips.

William's eyes went wide. “Why'd you go and do that?”

He was further confused by the scolding sounds she started making.

“You are a snake Will-ee-am. A snake, but I am your wife. I can only obey.”

William scratched his head.

“Well aren't you going to en-glush Little Wind now. I have seen whites. Woman en-glush man, then man en-glush woman.”

“What? I don't... You said 'English'... Oh, I get it! You thought...” William laughed out loud.

Little Wind frowned.

“Kiss! That was a kiss. Kiss... Kiss.” William motioned to his lips repeatedly.”

“Great Father, you are a snake. Must I do it again? Very well husband. I am obedient to you.” She leaned forward and kissed him again, not as quickly this time.

“No, no...” William said, “I..”

Her face was still close. Her lips slightly parted. Her eyes were so dark and large, he see could the desert landscape in them. He closed the distance and kissed her, his heart pounded and he wanted to pull away but her hand rested on his shoulder and she made a sound like penny candy on a Saturday night. Their lips warmed together, unmoving, unsure what to do. 

William's hand raised to her cheek. It was so soft. She cooed at his touch then suddenly pushed him away. She got up and walked away rapidly.

“A snake Will-ee-am you are a snake!” She turned and walked backward that she could address him. “I obey you like a wife, but you cannot have me as a wife, I not yet a woman, and the chief has not yet bound us.” She took a few more steps and spun around on the gravely ground. “A Snake!.”

William sat on the ground. He watched the Indian girl stomp away. He shook his head. “I hate girls,” he said.

He rolled back over and tried to make pretend movie shots with his camera again, but he found even on the rock he could no longer keep it steady. He rolled on his back and felt the pounding still in his chest.

“Hate 'em.”

William closed his eyes and smiled.

My father's small house was dark when we arrived, but Bill and my parents all emerged from their rooms The moment the baby cried. Charlotte nearly collapsed in a chair.

“You poor dear, William, fetch some water.” my mother said, My mother automatically outstretched her arms towards the baby I was carrying. I glanced at Charlotte who gave a weak smile of approval. My mother took the baby naturally and adjusted the blankets around it easily as if it hadn't been eighteen years since holding me. It stopped crying almost immediately. Bill came back a moment later with a a glass of water for Charlotte, who drank it daintily, but non-stop.

“Mother, Father, Bill, this is Charlotte.”

"This fella hasn't been able to shut his yap about you since you arrived at the station last year." Bill said elbowing me."

"Hush William! Mind your manners." my mother scolded.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Charlotte said in almost a gasp as she put the glass on a lace doily by the chair and tried to rise. Mother placed her free hand on her shoulder. “That's alright dear, you rest.

“And who do have here?” My mother said in baby tones.

I froze in embarrassment. “My goodness, I don't even know the child's name.”

All eyes turned to Charlotte.

“Henrietta is what's on her birth certificate, but I do detest that name.”Charlotte said.

“Then why?...” My mother rocked the baby.

“I knew they would take her from me. I was planning ahead. I knew if I ever got her back that I would have to hide her, that I would have to change her name. Why not save her real name for that time. A time like right now.”

Charlotte held out her arms, my mother handed back her baby.

“Little girl, beautiful little girl," Charlotte said, "your name is, as it always truly has been: Ruby.”

____________________________________

A personal side story that helped me understand the horrors of handling a baby for the first time (for a guy):

I spent several years working as an ICU technician at a Hospital in Rochester, NY in the early '90s.


Because it was a small hospital there weren't always enough patients in the unit to require my 'tech' help so I sometimes got floated to other areas of the hospital like the regular patient floors, or often the emergency room. On rare occasions I was even sent to the OB nursery which, as a childless dude, I found a bit scary.

They were merciful though, and had me spend my time doing non-baby sorts of things like stocking Infamile and diapers.

Merciful, except for one occasion.


To my horror, I was asked to change a newborn into those little tops they wear while in the hospital. Surely, an effortless, mindless occupation not to be at all feared.


Lo, nay I say!


Okay, no problem, I've handled any number of critical care emergencies, I'm an ICU/ER tech for cryin' out loud...


I got this!

• Problem 1: The top in question itself was an issue. These are not articles of clothing that have any logic to them. They wrap around the torso of an infant one-and-a-half times and have, count'em, three sleeves. Okay, not rocket science, I'll grant you but which two sides are the front? Which two sides are the rear? Does one lift the newborn to apply this mini pastel straightjacket or does one roll the critter back and forth, like rolling out terrycloth cookie dough?
  No instruction was available.
  
  
• Problem 2: The limbs of infants are like soggy noodles. Getting them to poke through a sleeve is much like the proverbial 'pushing a rope up a road'. This limpness of course applies double to the oh-so vulnerable head and neck, which seems to require a third hand to protect and support it while wrangling all the other rubbery bits.
  
  
• Problem 3: Just as I was getting started, Who else but the family showed up at the window just in front of me. A pinnacle moment in their lives, viewing this new precious life just a few inches away, a life that is the clutches of a complete amateur.
  -No pressure.
  

All was well though. I somehow faked some level of competence and the family was cleverly fooled into thinking their baby was in-fact not on the verge of being inadvertently tied into a sheepshank by a guy who had never so much as touched a hours-old human before, or, as I'm happy to report...

Since!

The Jewels of Nebraska Episode #17

The girl was right, releasing the stays all at once was a bad idea.

Ruby had rubbed her wrists raw in the ropes but managed to free them from the bed frame and undo the laces on the correction corset she had been forced to wear. She thought it would be pure relief to breath free again and not have her middle cinched down to a spindle, but the pain of that freedom was extraordinary. Her skin burned, her ribs ached and her insides complained severely, having been rearranged then dumped back in place. Even the ability to take full breaths had it's peril, the sudden rush of oxygen from her deep breaths made her even more dizzy and lightheaded than when they first laced her into the thing.

She bit her lip to keep from crying out and waking the girls around her, and gripped the bed rail to keep from falling over. Ruby looked at the old corset lying on the floor.

It had tortured it's last girl she decided.

“Brother Tobias, Brother Tobias!”

The large man rolled over slowly like a mountain of rising dough. The girl next to him scrambled to wrap her night dress around her and scurried from the room.

“Brother Tobias, there's a fire.”

“You woke me up for that?” Brother Tobias said standing in front of his residence. He saw the small fire in the center of the compound. “It looks like... that's a corset.”

“No brother, I woke you for that.” Brother Schecter pointed behind the row of buildings to a glow and a column of smoke rising from it.

“Oh crap! The God damn generator! Well... sound the bell you halfwit!”

An explosion just then, made the bell superfluous.

Ruby jumped in the Hewette's truck after having refueled it using the same hand pump they had used to empty their gasoline into the generator's tank. She had also ripped the rubber fuel lines from the generator letting the gasoline spill on the dusty ground. She smashed the lantern she'd taken from the hallway. She felt the wave of heat that made her jump back. The flames around the generator rose a lot higher and faster than she had imagined they would. Maybe she shouldn't have taken the time to set the corset ablaze in the center of the compound but she simply couldn't resist.

The truck whined and turned over and over when she pushed the starter. It wouldn't start. She wanted to run away from the flames, but the truck was her only hope of escape. She lifted the engine cover hoping to see something obvious. There it was, a handful of wires resting unconnected on what looked like a miniature version of those fancy milking machines she'd seen at the County Fair. She plugged the wires in, in no particular order.

Nothing.

She tried moving the wires onto different plugs.

Still nothing. 

The Generator tank had flames licking it's sides. It began creaking like an old ship. The fuel spilling on the ground crept towards the truck. Ruby saw it approach in her rear view mirror.

One more time she went to the engine and quickly rearranged the wires, like some puzzle, one wire seemed to come from a different direction, she plugged it into the center plug which was higher than the rest.

She pushed the started with a prayer. The truck began to sputter. She pumped the gas pedal and cursed at the thing, just like I, her old Pa, used to do. The truck began to rumble in a horrible rhythm of misfires, backfires, and quaking like a broken wheat thresher, but it was running!

She heard voices. She hoped they were more interested in the fire than her.

Ruby pressed the brake and tried to jam the gear shift where she'd seen me do it. The gears moaned and complained as she ground them together.

“Must be the other pedal.”

Some of the brothers and a couple women had come outside and approached the burning generator. One of them ran up to the truck.

“You get out of that automobile!” he said placing his hand on the door handle. Ruby pressed in the clutch. The gear shift easily engaged. She let out the pedal and the truck jerked suddenly forward knocking the man backwards and sending the truck off on a bumpy spin around the compound.The man jumped up and gave chase.

"Come back here you!"

Once out of the light of the blaze, Ruby realized she couldn't see a thing without the headlamps. She fumbled for a lever but could feel nothing. With the truck still lumbering forward, she ducked under the dash to have a look in the dim light. She found a likely candidate and pulled it. The engine began to die. She quickly pushed it back in and pulled another.

“Maybe that was it.”

Ruby looked up from under the dash just in time to see the headlamps light up what she was about to run into. She screamed and covered her eyes with both hands. There was an explosion of old wood as the outhouse was reduced to splinters and dust. A book flew up and plastered it's cover against the windshield.

“Godliness of the Submissive Female, By J. G. Tobias,” it read.

Behind her, was a scream and splash as the brother chasing her fell into the outhouse pit. The generator gas tank finally exploded. People ran screaming. Ruby tried to stay calm during her first driving lesson, but the truck was jumping over rocks and lumber. The steering wheel, as it turned out, was harder to turn than a pig in a chute. She worked hard with both hands just to avoid hitting houses and the people that would occasionally find themselves haplessly in her path.

One man was able to catch up to her and grab onto the side of the truck. He was trying to get his feet up on the bed when he was dispatched by stalks of corn Ruby suddenly found herself in.

“I need to go faster,” Ruby said, “let's try another gear.

She had seen me shift a thousand times. Where was that next gear? Another man was chasing the truck and about to grab on. Like reading a book, Ruby went to the next gear to the right: third, caused the truck to leap forward. The engine strained and almost died. The truck moved through it's obstacle course at twice the speed, but ironically, Ruby observed, it was a little easier to steer.

Eventually she found the path and the road that lead out of the compound. She was nearly out when a large man stepped in front of the truck and put a hand up. it was Brother Tobias. She hit the brakes and the truck sputtered stalled. 

"Oh dear." she said trying to start the thing again.

Brother Tobias approached. The truck lurched when she hit the starter button. she pushed the clutch in and tried again.

"Step out child." he said with sinister calmness.

Ruby looked straight ahead and  frantically worked to start the engine, pumping the gas and cursing at it.

"Such sinful language! What's the use, you're in the middle of desert, you can't even drive my child."

The truck suddenly started.

"Oh yeah," said Ruby"

She reved the engin to it's maximum, popped the clutch and the truck shot ahead. The rear tire rolled over the fat man's foot. She could hear him howling in pain as she drove out of so-called “Heaven”.

After a couple of miles up hill, she looked back at the the view. Flames and bedlam; people running every which way, the generator exploding every once in a while, nearby structures were beginning to ignite. The whole valley was lit up with the yellow glow of flames.

"Can't drive. I can drive just fine you tub of lard!"

Ruby smiled for the first time in weeks.

The woman held the baby and paced back and forth nervously looking at us. Charlotte and I had been tied back-to-back sitting on the floor, rags tied in our mouths kept us from calling for help. The woman's husband, after securing us, had left, presumably to fetch the man with the thimbles on his fingers.

Kohn had told me the child's location because of my considerable scrap in the one-sided bar fight, but he made it clear, with just a flash of his eye, that that was the end of his favor and if I was caught I was a stranger to him, or worse.

Charlotte's bound hands were against my own. I worried about taking a liberty, but something caused me to take her fingers in mine. She entwined my fingers and held them firmly. We turned and looked at one another.

Charlotte started speaking into her gag “Water,” it sounded like.

The woman tried to ignore it but Charlotte persisted. The woman put the baby in the crib and returned to Charlotted. She pulled the gag over her chin.

“Surely,” Charlotte gasped. “You would not deny me a sip of water.” She spoke with the desperation of a condemned man giving his last request at the stake.

The woman said nothing but returned with a ladle of water.

“Thank you, thank you most kindly good lady.”

“I ain't no lady.”

“It must be hard to be barren.” Charlotte just as the woman was about to replace her gag.

A tear came to the woman's eye. She brushed it away, ashamed of betraying her feelings.

“I got sick. I got sick with a social disease cause I'm...”

“You must love this little girl like it was your own.”

“Yes, yes I surely do.”

She stood up and began pacing again. The tears flowed freely. The eyes went to the crib again and again.

“It would break your heart if someone came and stole away her from you, wouldn't it. You'd stay up at nights, always vexed whether she was safe, whether she was happy.”

“Yes, yes I would.”

The woman sat in a chair and covered her eyes. Her back convulsed.

“Then you know exactly how it is that I feel.”

The woman got up from the chair. "Stop it, just stop." 

She quickly replaced Charlotte's gag. Charlotte did not protest.

“Just stop,” She yelled.

The baby started crying. Both sets of eyes shot towards the crib. Both hearts ached. The woman picked up the baby and calmed it's wails rocking and speaking softly. Charlotte fingers squeezed my own with more strength that I knew she had.

“I knowed it. You're her, aren't you? That rich woman,” she said in a low voice. “They said... they said you didn't want it, that it was all alone in the world, that it needed a momma.

“But you don't look rich, not no more. You don't look like someone who gave up their baby. And here you are came across town and stole in my windah to grab your...” She began pacing again. “You changed you mind, that's it. You gave her up, and then you felt emptiness in your heart and changed you mind.”

“Well you cain't.” She stood in front of Charlotte and bent low. “You cain't change your mind. She's mine now and she loves ME.”

Charlotte eyes looked into the woman's. She made no sound. Tears welled in her eyes.

“Oh curse be.” She stood and went to the window. “No, no, no! Curse it all to hell!”

The baby began to cry again.

“Shhhh shh shh.” She said sweetly. She put her back in the crib and kissed her forehead. “I want you to know somethin.” she said so softly I could barely hear. “I love you, and I will always, always love you. You hear me little one? You hear?” she took off a cross she wore on her neck and placed it in the crib.

She wiped her eyes and hurried back to Charlotte and I. She began untying the ropes.

“He'll be back any time now.”

When we were free Charlotte hugged the woman's shoulders.

“Thank you, thank you, a thousand times... tha...”

“Jus git would ya?” she said wiping her eyes and standing tall. “Do one thing for me first.”

“Yes, anything dear lady.” Charlotte said.

“Hit me.” Her eyes turned to me.

“What!”

“Hard.”

“I could never...”

“Mister, I won't be the first time, and at your worst you'll be kinder than he.”

I stammered.

“If he don't come home to a shiner, he'll know... and then, well I don't even want to think.”

“But, I... I just can't give a woman a shiner! I just can't!”

“Blood would be better actually, if you can manage.”

“It's okay mister, I been hit plenty before, you ain't gunna hurt me.”

Charlotte took my arm. I looked at her. She gave a small nod.

“And hurry, there ain't no time.”

“Forgive me.” I said to both God and all present. I took a deep breath and I did the unthinkable.

Charlotte helped her up. The woman touched her face and looked at her hand.

“No blood, but I think it'll do.”

“What's your name sweet woman?”

“It's Betty, Betty Kramer.”

“Betty, I will pray for you. I will pray for a miracle.” Charlotte went to the crib and lifted her child to her breast. She picked up the the cross on the chain. “I'll tell her. I'll tell her about you.”

“I'm glad you know.” She dabbed at her tears and tossed the hanky as if discarding an rotten tomato. “That thing kept me up at nights, she's a screamer ya know, took all my time. I'm glad to be rid of her the more i think about it!”

Betty watched us until we were swallowed by the darkness of the street. Then she fell to her knees and wept.

Continued in episode 18

The Jewels of Nebraska, 16 -A Lovely Imbecile

Sleep came to Ruby with surprising ease. Though she was still trussed in the old-fashioned correction corset and her hands tied to the top of the bed frame to prevent her from loosening the stays, the mere dizzy effort of breathing had exhausted her more than a day of harvest back on the farm. She was asleep minutes after they tied the last knot.

She was walking in a forest. She came to a clearing and recognized the house at the other end. When she got closer she heard the sound of an ax hitting logs. She rounded the corner of the house to see a man splitting wood. His shirt was drapped over a fence post and his broad back was bare but for his suspenders. It glistened with sweat. She stepped closer. The man kept on putting logs on the block and raising the ax to them. He hit them with such force the halves flew in different directions. She was close now. She could smell the sweat of his labor.

Then he turned. It was Ben, the kind young man who had taken them in in Colorado. He stopped his log splitting and turned to the girl. She noticed then she was only wearing her night dress. She cross her arms over her chest and felt her cheeks burn with his gaze.

“Where you been Ruby? He said with a gentle voice that felt like silk in her ears. “I been lookin' for you.”

She felt like running to him and throwing her arms around him. She looked down to see a huge snake coiled between them. No sooner had she seen it when it shot towards her and wrapped itself around her and pulled her to the ground. It squeezed her tightly, crushing her.

“Ben, help me!” she gasped.

Ben approached. He looked concerned, but only looked on her predicament.

“I been lookin' for you Ruby,” he said. “Where are you?”

“Ben, Ben, help me, please help me Ben.”

The snake's head came round close to Ruby. It's tongue starting lapping her face.

Gentle slaps on the cheek awoke her.

“Who's Ben?” whispered the girl sitting by Ruby's cot?

“What?... nobody.”

The corset still squeezed Ruby, her hands still bound overhead. She fought to catch her breath from the dream. Her head was light and spinning.

“You gotta keep quiet or we all gunna be in trouble.”

“I didn't...”

“Ssssh! Ben, you were callin' for Ben. What's he, yer boyfriend?”

“He's not my...”

Ruby looked up at her hands and gave them a fruitless tug.

“The first time they put me in that thing I had some sinful dreams too.” The girl said. She looked off at nothing.

“I didn't do no sinnin' there was this snake see...”

“Hey there, You don't gotta tell me, mine had bunch a growin' vines,” the girl paused and smiled. “Mmm, that was a good one.”

“Why are you here?” Ruby said.

“Me and some of the other girls thought it was pretty okay how you gave salt to old Brother Rickenbacher today.”

“Then untie me.”

“You're new, you still don't quite get it.”

“Get what?”

“This, this whole thing is about us and those dirty pictures they make us pose for.” The girl casually stroked Ruby's arm. “We're slaves see, just slaves. Every couple of weeks that pervert from California comes and makes some movies.”

“Movies? California”

“Yeah, sometimes he takes a girl or two back with him.”

“Really? To California.”

“I ain't never been, but from what I heard, you really don't want to be one of those he takes.”

Helen gave Ruby a pat on the head. “Listen, I can't get you free, but I'll loosen that corset a mite. Roll up on your side.”

Ruby fell back to the cot and took in the closest thing to a full breath in hours. “That's a lot better. Thank you...”

“Shallana. But my real name is Helen.”

“I'm Ruby.”

“Well Ruby, don't thank me too much. They're going to lace you up tighter in the morning. The cotton gives a bit after a spell, so they say.”

“Thanks all the same,”

“Don't mention it,” Helen said as she slipped back to her cot. “Really, don't!”

The house was small and ramshackle, just two rooms it looked like. It was at the end of a dead-end street on the southern side of the Omaha, I could smell the banks of the river. A fence around the overgrown property was made from bits of shipping crates and discarded chicken wire. A lantern glowed inside.

“What do you see?”

“Sssh!” I tried to say as urgently as I could without sounding unkind.

Though I was still in a euphoric bliss over being with Charlotte, having her cling to my arm everywhere we went, there were a few things I hadn't counted on. Before now she had existed only in a silk cocoon. Servants took care of every trivial detail rendering her, well, to be right plain, somewhat of an imbecile in the the regular world I lived in.

It was quite novel to her to walk down the street in the plain clothes we had borrow from my mother, who had to dress her essentially. Her head was on a swivel, like a child. Had she not been on my arm, I believe she would have walked right in front of a moving automobile or carriage on more than one occasion.

Sneaking around in the dark next to house where we hoped to find her stolen baby, she seemed oblivious to the fact that it was important to move quietly. No amount of pleading would get her to wait at the fence for me though. It may have been best that she was close at hand actually, where I could keep an eye on her.

“I am going to look in the window first, you stay low and don't move or speak, understand?”

“Ye...” she cut her word short and nodded fervently.

I raised my head up slow to see in the room. A man sat in a chair with a pipe in his mouth and half a glass of a whiskey ready to fall from his hand. No smoke came from the pipe. He was asleep or close to it. Not far away, sat a woman darning a sock that had once been somewhat white. The infant was nowhere in to be seen.

“I don't see the baby.” I said.

“Oh no! This isn't the house.”

“No, I reckon it is, the baby's just asleep in the other room.”

“I suppose you are correct.”

“What I don't reckon is how we're going to get the baby out of there with out them upon us.”

“One of us will distract them, at the door for some reason.”

“Good idea, then I can sneak in and get the baby.”

“No my darling, it must be me.”

“I know how you feel about your baby, but...”

She put a finger softly to my lips.

“First, my feelings for you I hope you realize, but my dear, dear man, you will never truly know how I feel about my baby...”

“Of course, of course, but...”

“On a more practical level, a woman alone at this time of night? They'd be suspicious of any woman of my age to begin with. They may even recognize my resemblance to my child. It is remarkable, you will agree when you see her. It has to be you. I'll get the baby.”

“You're right, I know you are, but... breaking into a window and climbing inside, moving quietly in a strange dark room then climbing out with a babe in arms? Forgive me my dear, but you had trouble crossing the street earlier.”

“You will fix the window so it will open then go and cause your distraction. As for climbing in and out and sneaking about, I am a mother, and this is my baby. I assure you, there is no task...”

I put my hands around hers and held them firmly.

“Yes, I never should have doubted you Charlotte. I forgot that the second time I ever saw you you were charging off into a blizzard to find her.”

“Until you saved my life at the expense of your job.”

I gingerly lifted the catch on the bedroom window with my knife and swung it open for her.

“Wait till you hear me sneeze, I'll do it real loud. That's how you'll know I have their attention at the front door.” I told her.

My heart was pounding after I knocked on the door. I heard foot steps, then, from inside, a rather loud sneeze! Charlotte would think it mine and begin her action too soon!

“Yeah,” said the said man at the door.

He held a shotgun in one hand. I tried not to look at it.

“Kohn sent me, there's trouble. He wants you to meet him.”

“Who?” he said with narrowed eyes. I felt panic but I managed to keep my demeanor.

“Big guy, thimbles on his, you know.” I motioned to my fingertips feigning annoyance at having to educate him.

“Him? What's he want?”

'He wants you, and I think you know better than to keep him waiting.”

“Yeah, okay.” the man reached for his jacket on a nail near the door and propped the shotgun just below it.

He was about to shut the door and follow me, when a noise came from the bedroom. He stopped. I could see that the woman had looked up from her darning and had turned towards the bedroom door. The man reached out and grabbed for my collar with one hand and the shotgun with the other. He dragged me into the house and opened the bedroom door. Charlotte and the baby were no where to be seen. With me still in tow the man grabbed one of the lanterns and ran outside. He was looking up and down the dark street.

“I got your partner here,” shouted the man. "Just bring back the baby and he won't get hurt.”

Silence, except for a few barking dogs.

Good! I knew Charlotte wouldn't give up her child. Then, the sound of a baby crying back inside the house.

“Under the crib,” the woman said when we passed her in the bedroom. The man dragged Charlotte out by her ankle. The woman pried the baby from her. I was shoved me across the room towards Charlotte and he raised the shotgun. I took Charlotte in my arms, our first embrace. Charlotte held me back but extended one arm towards the crying baby back in the crib.

“Get you away from there,” the man said waving the shotgun. “Go fetch some rope,” he said to the woman.

Continued in Episode 17 here

The Jewels of Nebraska Episode 13 -Think like a maid

Being that it's been a spell since my last post (I'm starting to talk like my characters) maybe a refresher may be in order in the way of re-reading Episode 12 No? Okay then, carry on...

It was just four hours ago that William was tossing and turning is his bedroll, one side towards the fire then the other all night long. Half of him was always freezing and the other baking. Now it was only half past nine and the sun was already hot as an oven with no way to relieve it. He looked at the horse beneath him.

“I'm sure glad I don't have to carry someone on my back in this heat.”

“You don't weigh nuthin' to that horse. He's strong, you're just a fly to him,” said Ben.

“Even a fly might be too much.”

Kohn's horse was out front, occasionally he would stop and hold up a fist. Ben and William would pull on their reins and be silent while Kohn sniffed the air, or got down off his horse, examined the dirt and brush, then he'd get back on his horse and scan the horizon. They had been in the desert for two days and no sign of Ruby or the Huettes, at least none that Kohn had mentioned, he hadn't said a word in almost a day.

“Hey Kohn, what makes you think they weren't on the road in their car? We're nowhere near a road,” said Ben. “I'm no tracker but...”

Kohn Nodded. “No tracker.”

In the afternoon they stopped under the shady wall of a canyon to rest the horses.

“Do you think we'll get attacked by Indians?” William asked Ben.

“No, it's 1922, it's not like in the pictures. I don't think it ever was to be honest.”

“There are still Injuns, and we're out here on horseback sleeping by our fire at night, it's just like the pictures, cept I didn't know it was gunna be so hot.”

“Indians live on reservations now and they don't go attacking anyone.”

“So who are they?” William pointed up to the top of the canyon. A dozen or more Indian silhouettes on horseback stood watching them.

It had been months since I'd seen Charlotte face-to-face, it was safer that way. This good news couldn't wait though. I made the bold move of going straight to the Millard Mansion to speak to her myself. She had been breathtaking even when she was in the depths of sorrow, I wanted to see with my own eyes when she learned I had found her baby. I'd be a dirty liar if I claimed I hadn't imagined her perhaps hugging my neck in her joy and gratitude.

Olaf, the milk boy who had delivered my letters, had told me her quarters were the right two dormers of the third floor. Growing up in Nebraska never gave me a lot of opportunities to learn climb real good, and it was plain daylight, but that didn't matter to me none, knowin' what I know'd.

A drain pipe got me to the first and second floor roofs before I had a chance to look down, which, when I did, I realized was a big mistake. The tiled roof was steep and slippery, but I managed to overcome my fear and maneuver myself next to a dormer window. With quaking hands my pocket knife, I popped the window open and climbed inside.

I had just, for the first time in my life, committed a crime.

I found myself in a dressing room with fancy wall paper, oriental rugs, walnut furniture and finely crocheted lace on every surface. Like most houses of that stature, the top floor was reserved for servant's quarters, but her area had been converted and adorned to match her class; a finely appointed tower for Rapunzel.

I panicked for a place to hide when I heard the door latch turn, but there was no where to go, no time. A young maid walked into the room with a basket stacked high with white linens. The high load kept her from seeing me right away. I realized in my enthusiasm I had not thought out any sort of plan, I just started climbing drain pipes and opening windows, assuming Charlotte would be waiting for me at the top with open arms. My mind raced for what to do. It would be a matter of seconds before the poor girl had the fright of her life.

I had nothing.

An unfamiliar silhouette in the edge of her eye cause her to look my way. She made a meek little squeel and the basket flew up in the air. The air was a storm of white sheets and pillow cases. She made her escape on the other side of it. I ran and caught her at the door. I planted my foot against it. I grabbed her wrist and prepared to place my hand over her mouth to prevent the inevitable scream, but there was none. She fell to the ground and curled up like a potato bug with her knees to her chest and her head between them.

I let go of her arm.

“Miss, its okay,” I began unsteadily. “You see, I'm a friend of Charlotte's, of Miss Charlotte's.” The lump of maid on the floor only quivered and whimpered. “I didn't mean to frighten you, I think we frightened each other hehe. But the um, laundry seems to have taken the worst fright hehe.. Awe, get up will ya miss, I'm not going to hurt you or nothin, promise.”

I touched her back gently but she only whimpered and tightened her little cocoon.

This was a girl who had been mistreated.

What do I do now? Nothing was working. It was only a matter of time before one of the staff went to see what was taking her so long. The laundry laying about the room was clean. Some of it was still somewhat folded after it's flight.

If I was going to get out of this without wearing handcuffs I was going to have to think like a maid.

I left her by the door. She could slip out, but I had to take the risk. I picked up the nearest sheet off the floor and carefully folded it, turned the basket right-side-up and placed the sheet square in the bottom. I did another sheet, and another. I could see the maid looking up at me, her head cocked in perplexity. I pretended to pay no attention.

“I'm in service myself you know” I said, “waiter at the Country Club, even worked a party here last Christmas. Folded a few thousand tablecloths in my day, yessir.”

“You're doing it wrong.” She said.

“It's right for a table cloth.”

“wrong for bed linens.”

“Show me.” I held out a sheet in her direction.

She got up and cautiously picked up a nearby pillow case. With a couple deft moves it was a tight perfect rectangle and in the basket. A sheet took her not much longer. Between the two of us the basket was soon full and the floor empty.

“I should really launder them all over again.” She looked at the basket with heartbreak.

“The floor is spotless, no harm done. I won't tell... if you won't”

“Yeah, okay I guess. Well, just what are you doin' here mister?”

“Looking for Charlotte.”

“Miss Charlotte's a lady, you're no friend of hers creepin' in upstairs windows an such.”

“What's your name girl?”

“Opal.”

“That's a pretty name. Opal, I'm sorta workin' for miss Charlotte, helping her find something she'd lost, something she's plenty sad over. The thing is see, I think I found it.”

“You're the fella that writes them letters, and you've found her baby!”

“Um, yeah actually, how'd you know, did she tell you?” I said.

“She never says nothin'.”

“How then?”

“I thought you said you were in service?”

“Ah, of course.” I laughed, “Where is Miss Charlotte now Opal? I have to see her.”

“Oh sweet heavens, You don't know what's happened, do ya?”

Bishop Clarkson Hospital was a brand new large five story brick building with a cross standing proudly on the roof above the front entrance. Modern sun porches on either end at every floor that could conceivably be scaled, but I was done with high places! The service entrance in the back seemed my best bet. The kitchen wasn't hard to find and from there a white smock and cap hanging by a door.

“Say fella, I'm supposed to bring this dinner to Miss Millard, a lady who's here for hysteria and melancholy but they messed up the room number and I'm new so I don't know where to go.”

“You might be new, the man said, but you don't work in no kitchen.”

“Well sure I do.”

“Not with white skin you don't.”

Before I knew it I was out behind the hospital again and brushing the dirt off my shoulders. Now they knew me and had orders to keep me out.

Two nuns glided silently by me. They had come from a small convent by the hospital for the sisters who served there.

I got an idea just then. A horrible, horrible idea.

Continued in episode 14

The Jewels of Nebraska #12 -Unfair Fight

To start this series from the beginning.
“I don't know.” The man looked skeptical. “I don't really need a truck, it's kinda beat up.”

He walked around Ben's vehicle for the umpteenth time and kicked the tires again. “Tell you what, I'm feeling generous. The gelding and a pony for the old Model-T.”

Kohn looked at the horses in the paddock. They were eating a discarded sandwich off the ground.

“Threes horses, we need ja,” said Kohn, holding up three thimbles.

A buxom woman in a lavender dress walked up the other end of the alley with a basket swinging in rhythm to her hips. The stableman's eyes were glued to her approach.

“Mmm MM! Would you look at that. Well, fella with the silver fingers, that is my final offer. If you don't like it, then good day to you.” His eyes never left the woman.

“Delilah, my darling, what brings you here?”

“Just thought you might like a little lunch, honey bunch.”

“I'm starvin, in fact, just like yesterday, and same as tomorrow I hope, you gorgeous thing!”

“What are we going to do?” said William.

“Well, I can probably get some work here in Grand Junction, “Ben said, “but it will take a while before we have enough. Have to take a room.”

“No, is to long,” Kohn said.

“Now Kohn, no stealin' or shenanigans, that was the deal, If we can't get those horses in a straight deal, we have to do something else.”

The thimbles clicked together in a regular rhythm.

“Boy, boy,” Kohn said quietly, “take peek-chure ja.” He pointed first at the ever-present camera around William's neck, then at the stable keeper and the giggling woman presenting him with his lunch.

“Awe, I've only got one shot left.”

“What'r you up to Kohn?” said Ben.

“Something else. Go William, take ja.”

William walked up to the flirting couple. He looked down into the view finder, waited til they noticed him and clicked the shutter.

“Hey, what's the big idea boy. What'dya think you're doin'? Why'd you take that photo? Gimme that!”

Kohn strode up behind the boy.

“New deal is, three horses for truck... and camera film.”

“Why of all the dirty... alright, alight it's a deal.”

As they led their new horses away William looked up at Kohn. “Why'd that man change his mind?”

“Two women make lunch. One lunch goes horses. Wife would not be happy if know she feeds horses and fat girl feeds husband.”

“What do we do?”

“We wait,” the girl said.

She was about Ruby's age, maybe younger but taller and heavier.

“Wait for what?”

The girl smiled. “You can read if you like.” There were several books on a table in front of the chairs and lounges that lined the locked and sweltering upstairs room.

The books all had the same author: Ernest J. Tobias.

The other girl was reclined in a rocking chair with her feet up on an ottoman. The two looked like they came from and belonged in different homes. She rocked and fanned herself incessantly with a small heart-shaped fan woven from reeds.

Ruby got up and went to the window. It seemed like everyone in the community was out doing something. Hauling rocks from a new field, carrying buckets of water from the well, hammering on the skeleton of yet another ramshackle house made from used lumber and old windows.

When she looked close she could see Ester and Caleb toiling over a field of some green but scant crop.

She felt a little sorry for Ester, she couldn't help but feel pleased about Caleb's dilemma. As a new and unproven member of the community he had lost most of his possessions, Ruby included.

She had been spared having to wed the cruel old man, even though she was now the 'property' of Brother Tobias it would seem. Ruby and dozen or so others from about thirteen to thirty years of age. Most of them slept in a dorm room of the main house together. Every night before the lamps were blown out, a church elder would pick a girl or two.

They returned to their cots in the dark after a couple of hours.

In the morning after prayers and breakfast most of the girls went off with several elders. Ruby was locked in the room with the chairs, just like yesterday. Today she had company, Meerah was her name maybe.

Some of the girls were mean, most ignored her. They all wore plain blue ill-fitting dresses. Ruby's was too big for her. Her own clothes were ripped up for rags. One of the older girls had used one to replace another blood stained rag from under her dress.

Unless there was a foot of snow on the ground, there was always ten things to be done back on the farm. With her mama in her state and her papa dead as I am, Ruby had to do nine of 'em yessir. She wasn't about to complain about being shut inside while others toiled in the sun. She just couldn't shake the feelin—outside of being kidnapped and lost from her brother—that she was in some sort of trouble.

“Ain't we supposed to do chores or something?” Ruby said.

“No, they wanna keep us pretty, plump and pale. Sometimes we do mending, peel potatoes maybe, but no work in the sun, no dirt under our nails. They gunna fatten you up I reckon. They got me on a diet. That's why I'm stuck back here with you, not off with the others, little too fat Brother Erlick said.

“Where are the others?”

The girl rolled her head in Ruby's direction with a minimum of effort and smiled.

“Hey new girl, if you're that bored, You could always come over here and rub on my feet... or wherever.”

“This look familiar?”

“It's a thimble,” said the man behind the counter.

“Of course it's a thimble wise guy. Do you sell any like this one?” My head was still pounding and I had very little patience.

“No, don't think so. Lemme have a look.” He brought it close to his eye and turned the thing over seeing the tar coating the inside. He sniffed. “Aha!” he said. “I don't sell this particular item, this is one of them the fancy ladies put in glass cases, ladies who don't sew or mend. I think I have heard of this though. This thimble doesn't even belong to a lady if I'm correct.”

He wrote down an address on a receipt and handed it to me.

“Show your thimble to the man at this shop. He'll be able to tell you more.”

The bar was more crowded than I expected. It was still mid afternoon. He wasn't hard to spot, a tall man at the bar with his large black hat still on his head. I took a deep breath and walked up to the bar. I slapped the thimble on the table. Time seemed to freeze as I waited for what he would do. He picked up the thimble and placed it on a blackened pointer finger on his Left hand and pressed hard till the tar inside the thimble set to his fingertip. Every other finger was so adorned.

“Tak.” he said.

He took a drink.

“Listen mister. I got a beef with you. I gotta goose egg on my head cuz a you.”

No reaction.

I'm not a fight'n man. Never thrown a punch cept what was in good fun or sport, but thinking of Charlotte and her daughter, all her tears and anguish, thinking of the cowardly lump this guy had given me; something just kind-of gave way inside of me.

My fist flew fast, but twice as fast came a steel grip around my wrist. The guy didn't even look up. Without letting go, he got up from the bar, dragging me with him, and threw me into the street amongst jeers and cheers from inside.

“Tak, thank,” he said holding up the hand with the newly recovered thimble. “Home go ja.”

He disappeared back inside.

A sane man would have simply walked away, but his action only infuriated me more. When I ran at him inside he lifted me off the ground with my own speed like he was swatting at a fly. I landed behind the bar.

My next attack was met with his fist. I saw stars. Through my blurred vision I could see he was still sitting at the bar, sure that the annoying fly had gotten the message.

I had not.

The chair I broke over his back got his attention. He was engaged now. I danced in front of him, fisticuffs at the ready. His reach impossibly longer than mine, I couldn't hope to land a blow. I dodged his first couple throws. The next landed square on my nose. There was a crunch. I could taste the salt of my blood as it ran past my lips.

Still I danced before him, ready to take any opening he might allow. The next punch was to my jaw. It took me off my feet, but I was soon back up.

The crowd had taken to the sport and had formed a noisy ring around us.

He knocked me down again with his thimble tipped wrecking ball fists. Each time though, I got to my feet and raised my own fists; fists that had not yet hit a thing. He gave me an odd look of exasperation.

I had gotten the swing of his blows by this time and dodged the next one. I grabbed it as it went past. I sunk my teeth into his arm just before it disappeared into his black jacket. I don't know if his scream was of pain or rage, but after all my failed attempts to cause any sort of harm, I found it euphorically satisfying.

That was not my plan though.

The fist of the arm I was biting opened instinctually. I could see the objects of my attack. Before he started bludgeoning me with his free hand I reached up and started popping thimbles off his fingers.

It sounded a bit like popcorn.

The tall man fell to the floor and began grasping at the scattering thimbles like a blind beggar who's tin cup had been overturned.

I stood over him, bleeding, soaked in the delusion that I had won. Until he had replaced the last thimble I and the room of rapt spectators ceased to exist to him. As he rose from the floor I figured it may have been wiser to use that time to get my carcass out of that bar and as far down the street as my legs could carry me.

I had saved him the trouble of the chase, yet he seemed ungrateful.

He held me aloft from my lapels and he ran me backwards across the room. I wondered at that moment what I my poor back would encounter first, a wall, the piano, God forbid, the antlers of the mounted buck.

It was the wall.

I crumbled to the floor trying to fill my lungs with air again. He picked up the rag doll—me—and set me in a chair. He had a bottle and glasses in his hand when he returned from the bar. He poured two whiskeys and slid one across to me. It stung like hell in the cuts in my mouth. Pain began reporting in from various parts of my body, some I didn't even remember him striking or throwing me on.

I thought this was as good a time as any to deliver my message.

“Where's her baby you sonofabitch!”

“What ja?” he said.

“I know you're on the take for those baby stealers.”

“You no with Steinberger Brothers?”

“Never heard of em.”

He turned the new information around in his head. I sipped my whiskey and mopped blood with my handkerchief. I guess it ain't unreasonable to consider he may have had more than one client.

“I think you from someone else. You take heap beating, like badger, keep coming back.” Kohn gave what may have been a smile. “We talk about your baby now ja.”

Continued in episode 13

The Jewels of Nebraska, #11 -Heaven

To start this series from the beginning. 

So this was the desert. She pictured it different. Sand dunes, cactus with arms like a man, coyotes and cowboys on horseback. There was none of that. It wasn't even flat; distant mountains and constant canyons; wounds carved into the earth with God's angry plow, bizarre red rock formations rose from the earth like giant sculptures. The land was spotted with small bushes that looked dry and dead. It went on forever it seemed. The little Model-T chugged on, hour after hot miserable hour. 

Ruby sat unrestrained between Caleb and Ester Huette. The gaping vastness of the Utah desert was all the rope and gag they needed to keep their young captive at hand. Each mile the overloaded Model-T chugged further into the desert, she knew she was further lost from Billy or a chance of escape.

The expectation of seeing her brother had slipped from a hope to a hint of doubt. Would she ever see him again? No matter how hard she threw it away, the nagging thought returned to her like a boomerang, again and again.

They nearly missed the small wooden sign read “Heaven” in faded white paint. Caleb turned off the dirt highway onto a set a tracks that snaked off into the horizon. The rough road caused two flat tires in the next hours. One more and they would have to stop for the night while Caleb built a fire to vulcanize an inner tube, there were no more spares.

Even for Ruby it was a welcome thing to finally see the compound, at first a set of white specks in a sprawling valley. It slowly came into focus, not quite a town, a dozen or so plain buildings in two rows forming a short street with a larger structure at the end.

All the buildings looked like a construction collage assembled from various abandoned houses and barns. At the end of the rows the street dead-ended at a larger house. Ruby thought maybe it was a church. It was as plain and ugly as the others, just biggerand in a position of prominence, like a father at the end of a dining table.

The Model-T rattled and snorted between the houses. A woman tending a sorry-looking garden, a toddler sitting in the dirt nearby, two women lugging a huge basket of laundry, a group a children playing behind the houses, several men talking in a circle; all stopped and stared at the new arrivals.

There were no smiles.

Caleb shut off the engine to a hollow silence. A door opened to the large building they had stopped in front of. A fat balding man wearing a white robe walked down the steps towards them.

“Brother Caleb I trust,” the man said.

“Brother Tobias!” Caleb kneeled and bowed his head. Brother Tobias placed his hands on Caleb's head and said something Ruby couldn't hear. Caleb returned to his feet.

“You must be tired and hungry.” Brother Tobias said. “You're just in time for our evening meal.”

The main floor of the big house was a large room. Mismatched chairs were arranged in rows like a church. Women and girls were moving them, bringing in tables and arranging the chairs at them. Only one chair, a large heavy one of carved wood and faded velvet, was set at the end of a table.

Caleb was given a place of honor near the head of the table where Brother Tobias sat in his velvet thrown. Other men, Deacons of some sort flanked him directly.

The man spoke like he was reading aloud from a book about himself. The deacons nodded more than spoke. Caleb was like a small child meeting Santa Claus.

There was little mention of God, no one at all spoke of Jesus.

The food was plain and colorless. Limp greens and a yellow meal mush served with glasses of cloudy water. Ruby looked around to see if anyone shared her expression of disgust, no one, except Ester, did.

Children sat at a separated table. Their relative silence was disconcerting. Women were mostly silent as well. As Ruby looked around the room she noticed there weren't no boys or men from her age to 'bout the age of thirty.

“You did not mentioned that you had a daughter.” Brother Tobias said.

“She's not a daughter. She joined us along the way. A bit willful, but I think, with some corrective teaching, she will make a fine wife.”

“She's very lovely. With some instruction she will do very nicely. Is she pure?”

Ruby turned bright red with anger and embarrassment.

“Yes, I had my wife examine her.”

“Spendid, splendid!”

Brother Tobias rose from his half eaten meal. Everyone in the room stood quickly as if a general had entered the room. Caleb rose as soon as he realized, Ester followed soon after. Ruby looked around at the glaring eyes and got up from her chair.

“Ah, it would seem we do have some work ahead of us.” Tobias walked around behind Ruby and placed his hands on her shoulders. It made her shudder. She resisted the strong urge to shrug off or bat away his touch. “Don't worry dear, you'll soon get the hang of things.”

“Brother Caleb I am so glad to finally meet you and have you in our congregation. I can tell you will soon be a man of great standing here. Your contribution has already impressed me greatly.

His hands squeezed her shoulders on the word “contribution”. Ruby's mouth went dry.

Caleb looked pale. “Ah, um Brother Tobias,” he stammered, “I did not mean for... that is to say the young lady I intended for my... You see I...”

“Brother Caleb? You seem a bit lost, but that's why you're here isn't, to find what is lost in your spirit?”

“Y-yess, yes Brother Tobias, I am grateful and blessed to be among your followers to be here as a humble servant... I just thought...”

“Thinking: a instrument of doubt, a lack of faith. You don't have a lack of faith do you? You don't have a lack of fatih in me?”

No one spoke or moved a muscle. A child coughed from an unseen corner of the room.

“No, no Brother Tobias, my faith is not lacking.” Caleb's head lowered.

Ruby couldn't help but but smile. The bastard finally got a beating himself. Her delight was short lived though.

“You are new, so we will forgive your misunderstanding. I'm sure my letters to you were very clear I'm sure.” Brother Tobias glared at the deacon to his right.

“Very clear,” said the deacon.

“The shepard watches over his flock. Unwed lambs need the closest and the most intimate of care.” His fleshy hands on her shoulders gripped Ruby and swayed her to and fro as he spoke. Fertile women are a gift Brother Caleb, and a privilege for only the worthiest of men. Strong seeds make a strong forest, weak seeds are of little use.

Because of the gift you have brought me, you will keep your own wife for now, unless your faith proves to be as weak in other matters as it seems to be in this one. Some who arrive are not so in my favor.”

A murmur rose throughout the room, but was silenced the moment Brother Tobias' looked up.

“Well Brother Caleb?”

“No, Brother Tobias my, my faith is strong, my faith in you, praise be O Lord,” Caleb said.

“Excellent! As you grow in your service to the shepard, you may become worthy. Your gift of this young bride to me is a tremendous gesture Brother Caleb. In Fact, her Tobian name will hereby be 'Kallah' in your honor.”

Ruby felt like a stone had just been dropped in her stomach.

Brother Bressel, see that Brother Huette and his wife are settled in and given proper clothes, Sister Anne see to Kallah, prepare her.” His head moved close to Ruby's side and he looked at her while still addressing the room. “She will be have the honor of being my tenth wife in one week's time.”

“What's the occasion?”

“What?” I said.

“You don't usually stick around after work,” said Robert.

He was right. It was the first time I had joined the nightly gathering a waiters, kitchen maids and bartenders after the country club had closed. I never understood it. At the mill no one in there right mind would spend an extra minute within the gates, yet here they spent hours at the bar every night talking and drinking until the wee hours of the morning.

“I have a job early in the morning,” I said, “before the street cars are running, no point in going home.”

“That's rough. You back at the mill?”

I didn't answer.

When the last chair had been put up and the lights had been turned off I cut across the links of the golf course through the dark and headed for the Millard estate. It was around 3AM. I found a tree across the street and leaned against it hoping my silhouette would not show in the street lights. I braced against the night cold of early spring and waited.

I did not mind the night without sleep. I did not mind the cold or the hours of boredom while I waited. I didn't know which window but I knew my Charlotte was asleep in the mansion across the street. My heart knew I was close and beat happily.

A bird's call jolted me awake. How long had I slept? The sky was deep blue and glowing to the East. I looked across the street at the estate. There was no one about. I cursed silently. How could I have fallen asleep? How could I tell Charlotte I'd failed our only chance for a month.

I heard the sound of a horse a wagon a few streets over, probably Olaf and his father on their milk route. Through the mist I saw a figure on the sidewalk on the other side of the street; tall, deliberate in his motion, his hands hung motionless at his sides. His feet made no sound on the slate sidewalk. I slid around the tree to remain hidden. I peered carefully around when I did not see him pass by the estate. He was headed up the long walk to the front door. Beside the house he reached down into a bush and pulled out an envelope, just like Olaf had said.

I ducked behind the tree again before he turned. Someone that moved so silently probably had the ears of an owl. I had to be careful, yessir.

He went back down the sidewalk the way he came. I moved tree to tree, trying hard to be swift and quiet, His long legged gate made it hard to keep up. On the bigger streets following was both easier and harder. There was a few people about and the odd wagon passing better covered the sound of my movement, but there were no longer any trees to hide behind.

I saw the man disappear into an alley. I followed. When I caught up he was gone. I had lost him!

I didn't know what hit me.

Darkness, strange dreams.

I was on the ground and my head hurt. It was light and the city was in full swing. I sat against a pallet with my head in my hands. I had failed. Not only had I lost track of him, I had scared him from his routine and I wouldn't be able to repeat a trail.

Then I saw it. Half in the mud. A silver thimble. I picked it up. It was polished to a perfect shine on the outside, but black with a sticky tar on the inside. I didn't know what it meant, but it was all I had.

In front of the hall the Huette's belongings had been unloaded from their truck arranged into a pile. The congregation picked through it and took various items to their huts for themselves. It was clear who the higher ranking members were. Some waited they turn to select a chair or carpet. A few minor tugs over some of the better items. One man was beaten down by another for trying to overstep his order in the queue.

Caleb watched his possessions go into the hands of strangers one by one. He knew better than to protest, or to take anything for himself until the last member had gone through the pile.

The truck itself was being pushed away by two teenage boys shaved bald and dressed in rags. A third was walking away with a gas can and a siphon hose towards a large tank and a generator.

He and Ester picked up what was left, just a box of photographs, a dented tea kettle and what was left of their suitcases. They walked to a barn-like dormitory behind the row of houses as they had been directed.

Caleb thought back to the day he had told her of his plan to leave St. Louis and live in Brother Tobias' fold, a place called “Heaven, Utah”.

“Listen, if we don't like it we can just pick up and move on to California,” he had told her.

It seemed there would be no leaving "Heaven".

Continued in episode 12