The Whip (14 page)

Eight

Early the next morning as Charley was collecting the last tickets for the trip back to Sacramento from several miners boarding the stagecoach, Anna and Tonia, carrying a bag between them, ran up behind the coach.

“Wait driver. Wait for us,” shouted Anna.

Charley turned and saw Anna and the heat of a blush suffused her neck and rose to her face.

Anna saw the man turn lobster red. Ahh, one of the pigs and goats, she thought. He saw my play last night and he’s embarrassed in his behavior. Perfect. She was going to try to entice her way to a free ticket anyway…this would just make it easier. Anna smiled the smile that always got her her way.

“We’re running late and I’m full up,” Charley muttered. “Only passenger space left is up top with the baggage. If you want to get on, jingle your spurs lady.”

Nodding to Tonia to climb up top, Anna followed. How odd. Why was he being brusque with her? That was usually not the case with men who saw her acting. He must just be in a bad mood…he had not yet asked for their tickets either. Thank God.

Her voluminous petticoats made for a difficult ascent, and at one point she looked hard at Charley and Charley knew she’d have to give her a hand up. That was the manly thing to do. Charley held out her gloved hand, frowning.

What’s this sour look? Anna thought. What’s this? She wouldn’t have it. She paused to gather her skirts, revealing to Charley an eyeful of well-turned ankle. A miner inside the stagecoach caught the show, too. He leaned out through the open window and gaped. Anna saw him see. She threatened him with her parasol as she ascended to the top.

Charley looked up at her. “Tickets?”

Anna said, “I—I don’t have a ticket. We don’t have any money. Nothing.”

“Damnit woman. Why didn’t you say so before you climbed up top? You’re making us even more late than we already are.”

Taking on the most helpless tone she could muster, she whispered, “Can we…work something out?”

Fuck it, Charley thought. She’d deal with this woman later. She hopped up onto the driver’s box and grabbed the reins. She cracked the whip.

Anna, who thought perhaps he didn’t understand, began again—but her words were drowned out by the rattling rumble of the coach. She turned and smiled at Tonia and settled down into the least uncomfortable position she could find, her skirts spread like a puddle around her. She had gotten them a free ride, once again.

Soon after the horses started to move, a second stagecoach pulled up alongside Charley’s. The driver yelled out, “Hey, Parkie. You low down dirty thief. You stole my run. Now I’m stuck driving the fucking Mokelumne Hill route.”

“Naw, you lost your run ’cuz you were soused again Ben,” Charley hooted. “Why else do I always get your runs? Don’t give me your bullshit.”

“Bullshit? You don’t know dung from wild honey.”

The two coaches were moving at a slow pace abreast each other—the two drivers joking back and forth.

“Ben, your brain cavity wouldn’t make a drinkin’ cup for a canary.”

“Oh yeah? Well your face looks like a dime’s worth of dog meat.”

Both drivers were laughing almost uncontrollably now.

“Hey Parkie. I’m doing the coaching competition. What about you? The prize money is pretty good.”

“Maybe, but you ain’t no competition in my book.”

“You’re so full of shit. Let’s see what you’re made of. How ’bout a practice run?”

“We got passengers Ben. Otherwise, I’d catawamptiously chaw you up.”

“You scared? You turnin’ into a nancy-boy?”

Charley laughed. “Who you callin’ a nancy-boy? Fuck you. Let’s go. When I’m done with you pretty-boy, there won’t be enough of your face left for you to snore.”

“You’re on.”

“Hang on up top!” Charley yelled out. “Clear the way.”

The two whips cracked and the six-teams tore into a gallop. The roadway before them cleared, miners and livestock fleeing before the racing coaches. Charley let out a wordless shout of exaltation.

Wind tore through the hair of the mother and daughter, the black tendrils whipping across their cheeks. This was fun, Tonia thought, as she and Anna clung to the baggage rails.

Ben was laughing like a madman and so was Charley. They whipped in unison, and in unison each turned and glanced at each other for a moment with glowing faces, grinning.

But then the two drivers each looked ahead and saw the same alarming sight—something that each of them in their brainless buckery had known but forgotten. The road was narrowing, heading into a hairpin turn.

“Holy shit,” muttered Charley.

Anna turned forward, saw the road ahead, and shrieked. “Stop this coach this instant,” she shouted over the rushing wind. “Stop!”

At the sight of the narrow curve, Ben lost his nerve. He pulled back, dropping speed.

Worried she could not stop the coach in time, Charley screamed over her shoulder: “All passengers to the left of the coach when I give the word. Get ready.”

Anna and Tonia crouched to their knees, ready to move…Anna crying to God to save them.

The coach was starting to lift off the road onto one side. Charley bellowed: “Everybody left. Now.”

Inside the coach, the passengers followed the order. Up top, Anna and Tonia threw themselves over the bags to the left side of the coach, holding on for dear life to the rails. The sudden shift of weight balanced the coach just enough that the wheels steadied out, taking the turn.

“Madonna mia, mama protect us,” prayed Anna.

The coach finished the turn and then started to slow down.

Tonia’s face was filled with joy. She let go of the railing and raised her arms up to the sky, squealing with pleasure.

“Tonia, behave yourself,” shouted Anna.

The passengers all together released their desperately-held breaths.

Charley, heart pounding in her chest, was taking in great gulps of air. What in hell had gotten into her? She had never taken risks like this before with her passengers. It was as though she was behaving like some damn man.

The team was now trotting. The world was moving past the coach at a normal pace. Anna let go of her iron grip on the railing and dusted herself off. She moved back to her former position and arranged her skirts. She glared at the back of Charley’s head.

“Men,” she mumbled. “They’re such idiots.”

But Tonia looked over at Charley with the bright-eyed, dreamy expression of a young girl who has just found her hero.

Nine

The coach arrived later that afternoon in Sacramento
.
As soon as Anna and Tonia’s feet touched the ground, Anna grabbed Tonia’s hand and tried to slip away before the driver could ask them for their fare again.

But Charley cornered her. “Ma’am, your fare…for you and the child?”

“I told you on the coach I have no money. I’m so sorry. The monster that runs our theatre company let us go without pay or food last night. Are you sure we can’t…work out some other kind of payment?”

Charley balked at the implication. “Thankee kindly, ma’am, but that’s quite alright.” She looked down at the bright eyed girl staring up at her. “Guess your mama got lucky this time.” She smiled at the girl, reached into her pocket and handed her several candies.

Tonia blushed. “Thank-you, sir.” She wasted no time unwrapping one of them and popping it into her mouth.

Charley turned back to Anna. “Alright ma’am, we’ll consider last night’s entertainment as payment. Next time though, you might not be so lucky.”

“Oh, thank-you. Thank-you,” Anna said. “Aren’t you nice. And you saw my performance? Well that horrible little man, Luigi, left us with nothing. We have no place to live. I thought maybe I could find work here in Sacramento.”

“To be honest, ma’am, there isn’t much standing-up-vertical-type work for a woman in these parts.” Charley chuckled but then regretted what she’d said.

Anna, feigning incomprehension, gave a blank look.

Charley rushed to add, “Unless you want to take in laundry. There’s never no shortage of dirty shirts.”

“I have two talents. I can act, and I can cook, Mr. …what is your name?”

“Charley Parkhurst, ma’am.”

“Well I’m Anna Schiavelli and this is my daughter Antonia.” She gave Charley a stunning smile. “Mr. Parkhurst, you are a kindly soul. Could I ask another favor of you? You don’t by any chance know of any family that we could perhaps stay with?”

Charley looked at her bewildered.

“I’m a wonderful cook and housekeeper. Tonia is good at chores. I need to settle down for awhile. I must admit to you, sir, that I’m a little desperate. As I said, we have no place to sleep tonight. If I were alone it wouldn’t matter so much. You yourself don’t by any chance have an extra bed for Tonia and me?” She lifted her big eyes and gave a look that was sorrowful, modest, and grand, all at the same time.

The small hairs on Charley’s arms rose at the strong brown gaze. She had to give her credit. This woman had grit.

Since arriving in California, Charley had remained distant and taciturn with most folks she met…for obvious reasons. But in spite of herself and her apprehension, she found herself moved by the mother and daughter’s plight and mettle. She decided to take the risk and give them temporary lodging. She could handle sleeping in the barn for a few days until the mother and girl were settled.

Charley’s place was a homey old two-room cabin on River Road, just outside of Sacramento. There was a fenced-in garden in the front, with potatoes, carrots, tomatoes, and a little strawberry patch. To the side was a small barn and corral and next to that a well and a tiny shed with a few chickens and a goat. In the back was an outhouse.

The two horses in the corral were looking round just now, snorting as if in disbelief at the procession making its way across the straggly grass. First came Charley, the sun beating down on her sweating face, carrying a large, overstuffed cloth valise. Behind her came Anna holding her head up with pride. She had once again found a way to provide for Tonia. She always made her own opportunities.

Behind Anna, came Tonia—she was looking at everything, smiling, skipping. “Oh, a goat,” she said. “I love goats.” Anna turned around to give her one of her warning looks. Tonia blatantly ignored her. “Oh, horses,” she said. “What pretty horses. I love horses.”

Charley pushed open the cabin door and entered.

Anna and Tonia stopped at the doorway and looked in. They could see a table and chairs, a fireplace, some cooking pots, a small iron stove. There was also a door to another room.

Charley dropped the valise on the floor. “You can stay here while you look for something. You both take the bed in the other room. I’ll sleep in the barn.”

With a brush of her skirt and a flirtatious thank-you, Anna swept past Charley through the bedroom doorway to take possession of the room.

Ten

The following evening when Charley came back from town she could smell dinner even before she dismounted. She’d never smelled anything this good, this rich. What could it be? What on earth could there have been to cook? She opened the door in a kind of trance of anticipation. Inside, on the stove, was a large pot of rich-looking soup, beads of golden fat swimming in pools on the surface. The table was set for three. In the center of the table was a bowl of pasta and a roasted chicken, plump, golden-brown and juicy, sprinkled with herbs. For a moment Charley stood in awed silence, and in that silence she heard a tiny sound. It was the fragile crust of the bread, pulled from the oven just an instant earlier, crackling as it started to cool. Simple tears sprang to her eyes and she blinked them back.

Anna saw it and gave Charley a sweet smile. Her face was flushed with the heat of cooking, and wisps of her black hair curled around her face.

“My God, where did you find all this food to cook with?” Charley asked.

Tonia, who was so excited she was gulping air, blurted out, “Well, mama stole Luigi’s food before we left, some bread and pasta and she took some lard, oh, and some cheese, my favorite. Mama always does that when we get fired. That’s how we eat until some nice person takes us in.”

Anna, her face turning from flush to horror, pinched Tonia hard on the arm. “No, no, no, Tonia, you’re mistaken.”

Tonia giggled, as her mother gave her a dark look.

Charley didn’t even notice, so hypnotized she was by the feast on the table.

She washed up and they all sat down, Charley at the head of the table and Anna and Tonia on either side. They all grabbed their napkins, which to Charley, looked oddly like torn pieces of her bed linen.

“I do hope that you like soup?” said Anna.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Charley. She picked up her spoon and dipped it into the broth. The fat bubbles shimmered as she lifted the spoon to her mouth.

The three of them ate in silence by candlelight. Charley kept her head down; the soup commanded total commitment.

“Is it good, Mr. Parkhurst?”

“Yes, ma’am. Sure is good.”

Anna served the pasta. Swirls of aromatic steam rose above each plate. She must have picked wild herbs for the flavoring, Charley thought. Or did she carry them in that perpetually bestowing valise as well?

Just as she was about to say thank-you, a wave of unexpected melancholy came over her. She realized for the first time how much she had needed this…to be taken care of. But Anna was bestowing this miracle on her because she believed Charley a man…a man very much in need of Anna’s special mothering.

As if reading Charley’s thoughts, Anna asked, “Where is your wife, Mr. Parkhurst?”

“My wife?” Charley looked away. “I’m a single man, ma’am.”

Tonia sucked a long noisy strand of pasta up through her lips.

“Spaghetti, don’t do that,” Anna said. “Wrap it with your fork inside your spoon, like I taught you.”

“Spaghetti?” laughed Charley.

“I call her ‘Spaghetti’ because when she was little, it was the only food she would eat. Not just any spaghetti. Spaghetti her mama would make. Isn’t that right, my little noodle?”

Tonia hated this. “Oh, mama,” she said in anguish, twisting her body in the rough wooden chair.

“And she still loves my spaghetti. Maybe a little too much.”

Now Tonia out-and-out glared at her. “Mother!” She got up, knocking the chair down behind her. She covered the distance of the room in a moment, stamping out the front door of the cabin and slamming it behind her.

Anna was embarrassed. She looked at Charley. “Excuse her. It’s the age. I will speak to her.” She started to rise from her chair.

Charley got up and gestured for Anna to stay. “I’ll go talk to her.” She was relieved not to have to explain further her lack of a wife.

Tonia was outside leaning on the corral fence. She was watching the horses in the twilight, her fingers drumming on the wooden slats. Charley approached and stood next to her without speaking. The horses noticed them and ambled over.

After a few moments Tonia said, “I don’t know why my mother says such stupid things to me.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t mean to hurt you,” Charley said. “But you know, sometimes grown-ups don’t always think before they speak.”

Charley began to stroke one of the horses.

Tonia copied Charley’s movement.

“You know my mother used to never criticize me,” Tonia said. “We used to live in this big house with all these nice ladies who were actresses. I was just a little girl then. I had so much fun there. And Agnes, who ran the house, was always so nice to me and she always gave me cake. Anyway, I know my mama loved me, but she was always so busy with all her boyfriends that she never paid much attention to me. But now all she does is criticize me.”

Tonia was talking so fast she had to stop to catch her breath.

“Oh, my goodness,” Charley said. “So…were you born in Italy or America?”

“Oh I was born in New York City. I’m an American. My mama came over from Italy when she was sixteen. My daddy brought her over and then my mama said he died. And that’s when I was born. There was this other man, Frank, she said…who taught her to be an actress. And then there was Alfred, and we all toured in a funny play but then Luigi discovered us, and we went with him. And he let me be an actress.”

Tonia stopped petting the horse. She turned and looked up into Charley’s face.

“You know, I don’t think I will be an actress when I grow up.”

“No?” said Charley.

“I wanted to be, but mama says I don’t have the artist temperament.”

“What do you want to do then?”

“I didn’t know until yesterday.” She paused. “Now I know I want to be a stagecoach driver.”

“Well now. A stagecoach driver.” Charley turned that one over in her mind. “That’s no occupation for a young lady.”

“I don’t want to be a young lady.”

“Wait a few years until you meet a handsome boy. You’ll change your mind.”

Tonia looked straight at Charley. “No, I won’t.”

“Well, maybe you won’t at that.”

The girl was awkward and honest and spunky Charley thought—reminded her of herself. “Maybe you will be a woman stagecoach driver. Shock everyone. Shock your mother. It wouldn’t shock me much. In fact, it wouldn’t shock me at all.” Charley winked at her. “You know…while you’re here, if your momma gives us permission, I’ll give you some coaching lessons.”

Tonia’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“And I have another idea. Have you ever seen one of those Concord stages?”

Tonia shook her head no.

“Well, how about you come to work with me tomorrow to see a brand new one?”

“Yes,” she squealed.

“Good. Now come inside. Finish your dinner. Pinky deserves to be enjoyed.”

“Pinky?”

“The chicken.”

“Oh, no. It had a name?”

“No matter,” chuckled Charley. “Your mother has a great talent for cooking.”

Walking back in the darkness towards the cabin, she added, “Don’t be too hard on her, Tonia. Everything she does is because she loves you. It may be that your path, growing into a woman, ends up different from hers. If that’s so, that’s because you live in more modern times.”

Tonia, flattered at Charley’s serious attention, took her hand.

Anna was waiting in the doorway.

“I’m sorry, mama,” Tonia said. She felt sorry for her mother now, not privileged to have grown up in modern times.

Anna touched her arm. “It’s all right my baby.” She was aware of Charley standing there. It would go easier for them with a man in the picture: two strong women. They needed someone to keep them at arm’s length. He would do that for them.

And at that moment, Anna made up her mind; someway, somehow, she would find a way to make them a family.