The Misadventures of Maude March (29 page)

That was as far as I got before Maude slapped her knee with the paper and then dropped it in a horse trough. “This is good news,” I said, hoping to convince Maude this was true.
I tried to convince myself. “At least we are being hunted in Arkansas. All six of us.”

“Lily was right,” Maude said.

“We should never have read that paper,” I agreed.

“Well, that too,” Maude said. “But I know what I have to do.”

“What's that?”

“You stay here,” she said.

“Maude!”

“No. No, we better stay together. Try harder to look like a boy.”

I followed Maude at a trot, bringing the horse behind me. She walked with a man's long strides to the Lavender Door Hotel at the end of Second Street. This was the prettiest hotel of those we had seen earlier. I was eager to have a look inside of it, but Maude told me nothing more of her plan, which bothered me some. Just because she was the head of a gang was no cause to think she didn't have to tell me what was going on.

We went to the back door and knocked. I slouched in the manner of Willie and his boys as I stood there. It was to be my best performance yet, and I felt a manly frown settle over my face.

A black woman opened the door, and Maude said, “Could I please speak to Miss Lavender?”

At this the woman laughed and said, “Gosh, girl, what kind of getup is that you got on? When you come lookin' for a job, you ought to dress nice.”

Maude said nothing to this, and we were ushered in without further insult.

“Oh, Miss Lavender,” the woman sang out when she
closed the door behind us. Just the way she said it told me that Miss Lavender was not the right name.

We stood in a kitchen, nice and bright with whitewash and touches of color in the bowls and dishes that lined the hutch. A big family-style pine table sat in the middle of the room, worn rounded at the edges but glossy with a wax job.

The sound of piano music came from the next room, and so did the sound of laughter, girlish laughter. A short fat man put his head through the doorway. “You called?”

“These gals are lookin' to talk to you,” the woman said.

“No!” Maude said. “No, I'm not. I thought there would be a Miss Lavender.” The desperation on Maude's face made the man take her seriously when she said, “I need to speak to a fallen woman.”

He turned on his heel without another word to us. “Kitty,” he called.

A big woman came into the kitchen, or at least she seemed big. She wore heels that outdid cowboy boots, and her hair was piled on top of her head in swirls so that it looked like a brown owl to me at first. “What do we have here?” she asked.

“This'n wants to see Miss Lavender.”

“Kitty's my name. What can I do you for?”

Maude told her everything. Everything. My jaw liked to drop right on the floor. Maude told her and finished up with, “I need to look like a girl again. I need to look like a different girl. I was hoping you'd help me. I don't have anyone to turn to.”

“Let me get this straight,” Kitty said. “You want me to fix you up, but you aren't looking for a job?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Maude said. “And no, ma'am. I want to find my uncle, and I think this town is the likeliest place to do it. But if I run into any kind of trouble, I intend to get out of here as fast as my horse will carry me.”

“Our horse,” I said.

“Bess,” Kitty said, “can you find a dress, some shoes, and some petticoats, and bring them down here?”

“Yes'm.”

“Better heat some water. We're going to have to start from scratch.” I went out to feed the horse and make him comfortable, because it was clear we would be there for some time.

We were both head-washed, but only I put my same shirt on again. Maude was outfitted in ladies' undies with pink ribbons. She got shampooed again with something that turned her hair dark red. It was a little shocking at first, but after Bess put some pincurls up for her and let it dry in front of the woodstove—which didn't take long, Maude's hair was still short—it looked sort of pretty.

While her hair dried, we drank cold milk and ate enough carrot bread to hold us for a time. When Maude was judged ready, she was fitted with a blue dress with more ruffles than seemed right, but then we'd been wearing boys' clothes for so long we hardly knew the way a girl should look anymore.

Maude, for her part, seemed entirely pleased with the finished effect.

While all this was being done in the kitchen, things got some rowdier in the hotel. They were having a regular party in that front room. It was late in the evening when we stood by the door to leave, and the party was still going strong.

“How much do I owe you for this?” Maude asked after
she'd stopped saying thank you so many times it was getting embarrassing.

“Not a penny,” Kitty told her. “Let's just say I'm trading for good will.”

“Oh, you have it,” Maude said, starting to gush all over again.

“It's not your good will I'm talking about,” Kitty said, “but I'm grateful to have it too. If I roll up on your doorstep when I'm old and gray, you'll remember me, I hope.”

“I will, Miss Kitty,” Maude said. “That's a promise.”

I knew Maude would keep her word, but I couldn't see that there was any need. Kitty had that special shampoo; I didn't see why her hair ever had to go gray.

A
MAN ON A HORSE WAITED FOR US WHEN WE LEFT THE
Lavender Door Hotel. He took off his hat when he saw us coming. The light from the windows shone on his bare head.

“Marion!” Maude said. “What are you doing here? Haven't they hung you yet?”

“You and your sister come from a bloodthirsty lot; that would be my guess,” Marion said.

“How did you find us?” I asked him. To tell the truth, I was some relieved to see him. I had no idea what Maude was likely to do next. I hardly recognized her anymore.

“I've been asking around for you since I got here. I spotted you at a livery earlier today, been following you ever since.”

“You asked after us?” Maude said.

“I said I was looking for two boys,” Marion said. “You had me worried for a while here. But now I see what you were up to. Where you headed next?”

“We haven't found our uncle yet.”

“I'll help you look,” Marion said. “I hope we'll get lucky. We surely can't pass you off as a boy with you looking like that.”

Which remark caused Maude to give him a look that should have singed his hair. Maybe because he had so little of it up front, he seemed immune. I went back alone to get our horse, determined that no one who had seen Maude before should see her in her fresh disguise.

And although it was well into night, we kept riding from one livery to the next.

“Well, there is nothing for it but to sit up till morning,” Marion said when we gave up after finding two liveries closed for the night. “Let's us tie these horses to a post and find us something to eat.”

In fact, a place stood open before us, ready to feed a hungry body at any hour of the day. Only the cook, in a dirty apron, stood ready, and he sat alone and disheveled at a table with his elbows on a newspaper. Marion ordered eggs and chili from the doorway, causing the cook to get up from his table without a word of yea or nay. But he headed for a door at the back of the room and left us alone.

In the near dark of the streets, I had almost forgotten how changed Maude seemed to be. The color of her hair suited her better than I would have thought if someone had come up to me earlier and asked, how do you think your sister would look with hair the color of a fox?

But it wasn't only the color; it was the curls. She hardly looked like the Maude I knew. It was worse than when Marion got rid of his beard. In the end, I found it easier not to look at her very much. Luckily, I sat next to her and could look across the table at Marion.

We had done almost no talking during the hours of
riding around looking for liveries, except to the smithies and stable hands we questioned. In part, I had the feeling that Maude was pretending Marion wasn't there. Maybe even Marion was pretending that. At that table, we had no choice but to talk back and forth about what we ought to do next.

Marion asked if we felt ready to give up on finding Uncle Arlen. “Not really,” I said. “We might have missed a place.”

“How many days are you thinking to put into this search?” he asked.

“As many days as it takes, or until I am convinced we aren't going to find him,” Maude said. “We have nowhere else to go.”

This statement struck me deep, and for a reason I couldn't plumb, I wanted it to strike Marion deep too. “We were orphans when we set out,” I said, “and we are orphans still.”

“Lots of people are orphans,” Maude said stoutly. “Let's don't feel sorry for ourselves.”

“I don't care to sound sorry for myself,” I said, “but I would rather not be an orphan so soon.”

The chili was brought to our table, and Maude said to the cook, “I could do this job of putting food on the tables, if you are looking for someone to work for you.”

“It's busier most times of day,” he said. “I have some help, but I could use another hand in the mornings.”

“What do you pay?” Maude asked him, and when I thought she would say yes, she said, “I'm not sure that's enough for me. I have my little brother to support.”

“That's for the first day,” the cook said. “If you do all right, I'll pay you what I pay everyone else. Some are raising bigger
families on what I pay and do well enough. But you can't wear that fancy dress to work here.”

“What must I wear?”

And so they settled it while Marion and I looked at each other over our chili. “What's this?” Marion whispered when the cook had gone back to sitting at another table.

“If I work today, I'll earn the money to stay someplace tonight. As you said, now that I've returned to being a female, I can't very well share the floor with rough riders,” Maude said. “At any rate, it is time Sallie was returned to being a little girl.” She looked at me. “That might take a couple of days.”

This silenced Marion, and if I had something to say, it could wait till I had eaten. Until the chili was set before me, I had not known I was so hungry. I had no complaints about the eggs either.

Once my belly was full, all I could think about was how good it would feel to crawl into a bed. There was no bed to be had, only the hours of sitting in the chair waiting for morning. “We could play a few hands of cards, if we had a deck,” Marion said.

“Aunt Ruthie didn't hold with card playing,” Maude said. “We don't know how.”

So Marion told her all that she would need to know if ever she wanted to learn. That the deck is made up of four suits; hearts and diamonds, spades and clubs. “Clubs?” Maude said.

“Like a paw print,” he said.

That was the last I heard. I couldn't remember putting my head down on the table. I only noticed when I woke up that I had slept until there were sounds to be heard from the street
outside. The clop of horses' hooves and the low drawl of a man's voice.

Marion had gotten a deck of cards from someplace, and he and Maude were playing in silence. “Where'd you get those?” I asked.

“Bought them off a fellow who came in for a meal,” Marion said.

“I don't remember that.”

“You were out like a light.”

Across the room, the cook got up, folding his newspaper.

“Is that a recent paper?” Maude asked him.

“Yesterday evening.” He set the newspaper down and took our empty bowls. “You could be here at seven, if you want to start right away,” he said.

“I will be on time,” she said, and spread the paper out in front of us.

I
HAD BEEN SAYING A SILENT PRAYER THAT ANY NEWS OF
Maude would have been moved further to the back, and written in very small print. If the print got small enough, she wouldn't be able to read it at all.

The first page was half taken up with a headline: DARING BANK ROBBERY!!!

“Have you robbed another bank?” I asked her.

She threw a dirty look in my direction and said, “It's Jesse James this time.”

“Where?” I said, spotting a smaller story heading: BLOODY GUN BATTLE.

“Right here in Missouri,” Maude said, skimming the page.