Chapter 9
Brush with the Past
The next day Mrs. Parrish had to go to her meetings. She asked me if I wanted to go with her, but I said I’d rather stay at the hotel and either try to read in the book I’d brought or else write in my journal. There was already so much to tell, and I wanted to remember every minute of my visit to San Francisco! She said she had to meet some people in the morning, would be back for lunch, and then would be gone for three or four hours in the afternoon.
The morning passed quietly. I read some, but mostly wrote in my journal. Mrs. Parrish was back almost before I realized she had left. We talked a while and had lunch, and then she left again for her afternoon meetings.
About an hour later, I started to get restless. I’d been in that room most of the day, and I wanted to get a little bit of fresh air. Mrs. Parrish said everything would be fine, but that I ought to stay in the room or maybe go into the hall or down to the lobby to stretch my legs.
But I had too much of the outdoors and the country in me for my own good. I just had to get outside where I could feel the sun and wind on my face and breathe air that had been mixed with the clouds and the trees and the wind, instead of just sitting in a stale room for hours on end.
Finally, I got up and walked downstairs and into the lobby.
I had hardly set foot off the stairs when I heard a familiar voice: “Well, if it isn’t the country girl who wants to be a newspaper reporter.”
I glanced up and there was young O’Flaridy, again with a bundle of the day’s papers.
“Having a pleasant visit in the city?” he added.
“Real nice,” I answered, smiling but feeling a little cautious after what Mr. Barnes had said the day before.
“Even without my services as a guide, eh?” he said, with kind of a sly smile as he approached me.
Unconsciously I backed up a step, while I answered, “We saw all kinds of things. Mrs. Parrish knows the city pretty well.”
“And where is your lady friend this fine day?”
“She had some meetings to go to.”
“What kind of business she in?”
“Freighting and the like.”
“Mighty peculiar field for a lady to be in. Say, who is she, anyway? She can’t be your mother. She your aunt—your older sister?”
“She’s a friend.”
“Sort of took you under her wing, did she?”
I wasn’t sure I liked his being so nosy about our affairs, but luckily he spotted Mr. Barnes eyeing him, so he made a beeline for the counter to dump off his papers. Then he sauntered back in my direction.
“Say,” he said, “maybe with the lady gone to her meetings and you all alone like you are, you’d like me to show you around some.”
“No, thank you.” I tried to sound confident. “I’ve got plans of my own.”
“Aw, what could—”
“Hey, O’Flaridy!” interrupted a man’s deep voice from the other side of the hotel lobby. We both looked around, and the instant he saw who the speaker was, Robin left me and hurried over to him.
“I thought you was gonna run them papers down to McCready’s for me,” said the man, his voice quieter now, but still so I could hear. I didn’t like the sound of the man, and he looked like a rough sort, though he was dressed in a black suit. They spoke a minute in quieter tones and I decided it was time for me to make my exit. I didn’t want to have any more to do with Robin O’Flaridy or anyone he knew. I turned and walked through the lobby, past the desk, and toward the exit doors.
“Hey, you’re not going out alone, are you?” came the persistent O’Flaridy voice yet again from behind me, just as my hand touched the door.
I hesitated. I still didn’t know whether to be frightened or flattered by the attentions of this seemingly worldly-wise San Francisco lad. He hurried up to me again.
“I’ve got to make a delivery down by the waterfront,” he said. “How about joining me?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “I really have to be going.”
“This is a big city, you know. No place for young girls to be roaming the streets without someone to watch out for them. Why—” His voice got real low and he came up close, like he was letting me in on a secret. “Why, I could tell you stories of that fella there I was just talking to, stories that you’d never believe! It’s rough out there, and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I can take care of myself,” I retorted before I knew what I was saying, with more courage than good sense. I wanted to get away from him. He was too pushy! I shoved the door open and walked out onto the street. He’d likely keep after me, so I turned and walked quickly away, without looking back.
It was a little chilly. The fog was just starting to blow away, and there were patches of bright showing through all around, but there was still enough fog to give me one of the best memories I had of San Francisco: breathing in that fresh-feeling fog that made my lungs feel so full and alive. I breathed in a few times when I got outside, then I started to walk down the street.
I went down the sloping hill of California Street toward the center of town. I figured if I walked straight down and then straight back up to Hyde I’d be able to remember where I was, and I’d been that way in the cab a couple of times already. I had walked for maybe ten minutes, then all of a sudden I felt a strong hand close around my arm just above the elbow.
“I thought it was you, missy,” growled a deep, raspy voice. “I knew if I followed you an’ that lady an’ watched this fancy place, I’d find my chance t’ git even!”
I didn’t even need to turn around. His was a voice I could never forget! And besides the voice, I could smell him too. In an instant I knew I’d been right in what I thought I’d seen the day before.
It was Buck Krebbs!
“Come with me, missy,” he was saying, shoving me forward and toward the side of the walkway where there weren’t so many people. “You an’ me’s got some talkin’ to do!” Only later, when my arm got a big purple bruise, did I realize how hard he was pinching me. But at the moment I was much too scared to feel anything. “I wanna know where yer pa hid my loot! An’ ye’re gonna tell me!”
Not more than five or ten seconds had passed since he first grabbed me, but when you’re scared, time seems to freeze as if it’s happening to somebody else in slow motion. I’ve had dreams like that where I couldn’t move even though something bad was about to happen if I didn’t run away or jump to safety. Those first few seconds I was that way. Like a frog that a snake had just grabbed, I was so paralyzed I couldn’t move or scream or even think.
But the second Buck said the word pa, something unfroze inside me, and all of a sudden woke up.
I don’t exactly know what happened next. I read somewhere that fear makes you stronger than you really are. I guess I must’ve twisted my arm hard. Maybe that’s when I got the bruise, or maybe I was stronger than Buck thought I’d be. I started screaming too. I remember being shocked at the loudness of my own voice! Everything all at once took Buck by surprise. I could feel the pain in my arm stop, and then I was running as fast as my legs would move. I didn’t even know where I was going, I just ran as fast as I could, and I could feel my hair flying all about my face. Behind me I could hear the pounding of Buck’s boots on the wood walk, and him yelling after me, “I’ll git ’im, ya hear me, missy! I’ll git that pa o’ yours! I’ll git the loot! I’ll git ya all! I’ll git it if I have t’ kill ya all first!”
I kept running along the street, then turning, still hearing Buck chasing behind me. I ran past the Armory Hall and turned up Sacramento. I didn’t know what I was doing at the time or where I was, or I’d have stopped right there and got one of the Guard men to help me.
A couple of blocks later I was in front of the Eldorado. People were staring at me, and some of the men hanging around called out rude things to me. I must have looked like a mess, a young kid of a girl running along the street, all alone in front of San Francisco’s most famous gambling house.
I turned again, down the hill this time. I found out later it was Washington Street.
I stopped for a spell, caught my breath, and looked back for the first time.
I couldn’t see or hear anything of Buck, and I didn’t figure with his heavy boots and the whiskey I could smell on him that he’d be able to run too far. But all I could think of was getting back to the hotel before he did, and safely into my room again. I’d never leave that room alone now, because I was sure he’d be waiting for me if I ever came out of the lobby again!
A few minutes later I found myself back on Montgomery Street, which I recognized. I ran toward where the work was going on for the big new Montgomery Block building.
I went up to a man, dressed real fancy, who was just walking inside. I figured he was probably on his way to one of the lawyers’ or mine owners’ offices that was already open up on the second floor, and was a safe enough man to talk to. He didn’t look too pleased at being accosted on the street by what must have looked like a tramp. But when, all out of breath, I asked him where the Oriental Hotel was, he didn’t give me more than a hmmp or two as he looked me over, then pointed out the way with a half-scowl on his face. Somehow I got back onto California Street, and then ran all the rest of the way back, not even slowing down as I went through the lobby and up to the desk to ask for the key to our room, panting and sweating like a runout horse all lathered up.
When I’d been running through the streets trying to get away from Buck Krebbs, I’d have probably welcomed the sight of his face, but at the moment I was grateful Robin O’Flaridy wasn’t anywhere around to see the fix I’d gotten myself in by not taking his advice! I took the stairs two at a time up to our room, hurriedly locked the door behind me with my fingers shaking, and then threw myself down on the bed and tried to catch my breath.
I didn’t get much more reading or writing done that afternoon!
But I didn’t start crying till Mrs. Parrish got back and I told her all about it. Having her take me in her arms and say comforting things to me made me feel safe again, and that’s what made the tears start to come. She said her meetings were all done and that she wouldn’t leave me alone for another minute of our time in San Francisco, and she said that Buck Krebbs would never dare come into the hotel and try to harm us, so we were safe enough.
We were to start home the next morning. The man in the red jacket brought our luggage down to the lobby and Mrs. Parrish took care of her last business at the desk.
I could hardly believe it when I heard a familiar voice once again, “Leaving town so soon?”
I turned around and found myself again staring straight at none other than Robin O’Flaridy! This time he had no newspapers. If I didn’t know better I’d think he was waiting for us.
“Yes, we are,” I said, silently thinking to myself, Not him again!
“Well, I wish you safe travels all the way back to—what’s that town out there in the sticks you say you’re from?”
“Miracle Springs.”
“Oh yeah, that place. Well, I wish you and your lady friend safe travels back to Miracle Springs. Say, how’re you getting back there?”
His voice actually was starting to sound nice for a change.
“We’ll take the boat up to Sacramento,” I said.
“Hmm,” he said with a serious expression, “I hear the bay’s been pretty rough these days.”
Outside I could see that the sky was blue and it didn’t look any more windy than usual, so I decided to pay no attention to his remark. And the more I looked at him the more I realized that he took nothing he said very seriously himself!
“You still hankering to be a newspaper reporter?” he asked.
“Some day perhaps.”
“Well, the next time you come to the city, you stay right here and be sure to look me up. I’ll give you a few tips that helped me get started in the business. What do you say?”
To my relief, Mrs. Parrish had just finished at the desk and came up to us.
“Our cab is waiting outside,” she said. “Good bye, Mr. O’Flaridy.”
He quickly hastened to the front door and opened it for us with a flourish, annoying the man in the red jacket.
When we were finally on the steamer heading back across the bay toward Richmond and Sacramento—on perfectly calm waters!—Robin O’Flaridy quickly left my mind. Once again my thoughts filled with what had happened the previous afternoon. I couldn’t wait to get back home to tell Pa what Buck Krebbs had yelled after me as I ran away from him. His words were mighty frightening to think about!
Probably because I was so worried about him and talking about it, on the way home Mrs. Parrish asked me lots of questions about Pa. I was glad for the chance to tell her what a fine man he was, though something in her tone made me think she didn’t need to be told.
We laughed together about those first few weeks after we’d gotten to Miracle last year and how awkward it had been for everybody right at first. A faraway look came into her eye after I told her why he had left New York years ago, and I think she felt truly sorry for how she had misjudged Pa.
“There appears to be a lot more to your father than just what shows on the surface, Corrie,” she said.
“Oh yes, ma’am,” I answered. “Why, I’d hardly know him now from that man who first walked out of the saloon when Captain Dixon brought us into Miracle!”
When we got back to Sacramento, we dropped in to see Miss Baxter again at her boardinghouse, and who should be sitting there in her parlor but Captain Dixon himself!
Before I knew what I was doing, I ran toward him, and he stood up and I threw my arms around him and gave him a big squeeze. He seemed almost as pleased to see me too, and hugged me in return. He said his wagon train had arrived early, and then he asked about Becky and Emily and Zack and Tad.
When I told him how well we were doing with Pa and about the gold in the mine, he seemed genuinely relieved. He said he’d thought about us almost every day and was glad to hear everything was working out so well.
Miss Baxter fixed us some tea and we had a pleasant visit. Next to Pa and Mrs. Parrish, I reckon Captain Dixon was more responsible for helping us kids through Ma’s death and coming to California than anyone else.
When we left to go, he and Mrs. Parrish shook hands. “I hope you might one day be able to come out to Miracle for a visit, Mr. Dixon,” she said. “I know the other children would love to see you.”
“I may just do that, ma’am,” he answered.
We spent the night in Sacramento, then got Mrs. Parrish’s horses and surrey from the livery stable where she’d left them, and early the next morning began the ride to Miracle.
We talked about so many things on the way home! Since that very first day on the street outside the Gold Nugget, I had always felt that Mrs. Parrish was my friend, but she had seemed a mite distant all the same. She never really kept herself aloof from me, but she was just so tall and confident, older, and a successful businesswoman, that it made me feel small by comparison.
But after this trip together, and her asking about Ma and Pa and our family, and with us talking about so many things, I felt that I was her friend too. She never seemed quite so distant after that.
We met Rev. Rutledge again, this time in Auburn, and he rode all the rest of the way back with us. He was in high spirits and talked practically the whole way about people he’d spoken with and the great opportunities he said existed for “the field of harvest.” I didn’t know what he meant by that, and I must admit I didn’t pay much attention to him. It just wasn’t the same after he joined us, and I was disappointed that my time alone with Mrs. Parrish had to come to an end. Mrs. Parrish was unusually quiet that day too. She didn’t seem quite as enthusiastic about the minister’s plans as she had been several days earlier.