by Lynn Austin
“You may as well stop struggling, Kate,” Joe said as she fought for her life. “You’ll only hurt yourself if you do.” She knew it was true. She already felt bruised from the man’s brawny hands, yet he shrugged off her kicks and blows as if they were nothing. “This is where you’ll be living from now on. You’re a beautiful girl, Kate. You’re going to make a lot of money for me.”
Joe nodded to her captor, and he dropped her to the floor. Kate knew he would grab her again if she tried to run, and besides, she was trembling so violently she didn’t think her legs would work right. She glanced around at the other women who were watching her with mild interest. None of them showed any pity for her. Why had she trusted Joe? How could she have been so stupid? Being in jail would have been better than this.
“You can’t keep me captive here,” Kate said in a shaking voice.
“I got you out of jail and made the theft charges go away, didn’t I? You’re mine now. You’re going to work for me to pay me back for all my trouble. Take off your skirt and blouse, Kate. And your shoes.” When she hesitated, Joe said, “Either you do it, or my friend, here, will help you.” Kate did what he said, her fingers trembling so badly she could barely manage the buttons. Joe took the clothes and shoes from her and turned to leave. “And don’t even think about running away. I own the streets. I’ll find you. Tell her what will happen when I do, ladies.” He left with the guard, closing the door behind him. Kate heard a key turn in the lock. She couldn’t breathe.
“Why don’t you sit down, sweetie?” a blond-haired lady said. “You won’t be going anywhere tonight. And like Joe said, if you do try to run, he and his men will find you and beat you half to death.”
“We had a gal here named Honey who ran away a second time,” a buxom little brunette added. “Joe beat her so badly she died.”
“He has men working for him all over the city,” the blonde continued. “They’ll find you. There aren’t very many redheads like you around. Joe has police on his payroll, too. And judges and lawyers. They like coming here to visit us.”
“How do you think Joe got you out of jail?” the brunette asked with a little laugh.
“I’d rather be in jail,” Kate said. “Or dead!”
The blonde rose to her feet and tried to put her arm around Kate’s shoulders and lead her to one of the sofas, but Kate pushed her away. “Suit yourself!” she said with a shrug. “But you’ll find it’s not so bad here. Joe has nice customers, rich men who smell good and give you nice presents. He won’t allow bad people to visit us no matter how much money they offer him. You’ll have a good life here.”
“A good life? Selling myself? Never!”
“You think you’re better than we are?” a third woman asked. She was stretched out on a chaise lounge, smoking a cigarette. She blew a puff of smoke at Kate.
“The only reason I ended up here is because Joe tricked me,” Kate replied.
The women laughed at her. “Are you that stupid?” the brunette asked. “Did you really think you could get something for nothing? But Eva is right, Joe does take good care of us. We’re better off than we ever would be on the street. Where would you be living right now if Joe hadn’t come along? Still in jail, I’ll bet.”
“This is how women like us survive,” the woman with the cigarette said. “There’s no other way. Do you think a girl like you could ever find a nice husband, especially now that you’ve been in jail? Face it, in the neighborhoods where we come from, the only future we have is to work in a factory or a hotel laundry until we marry a dockworker or a roughneck from the stockyards—and those men all want the same thing the men here do. Only you would live in a pigsty like the ones we grew up in, with no running water, a houseful of babies you can’t feed, and a husband who drinks away his paycheck leaving you and your children to starve.”
“That’s the way you grew up, isn’t it?” the blonde asked.
The smoker took another drag on her cigarette. “At least we’re warm and well-fed and taken care of here,” she said, releasing the smoke. “The men who visit us have wives who are as cold as ice and never show them any love. Believe me, you’ll be well-appreciated—maybe even loved if the right John comes along and takes a fancy to you.”
“You ever been with a man?” the brunette asked. When Kate didn’t reply, the other women exchanged glances. “Joe has a very rich client who pays extra for young, inexperienced girls like you. I’m guessing he’ll save you until he comes in.”
A door in the back of the room opened, and an older woman in a low-cut silk dress and glittering necklace entered. She wore her hair elaborately pinned and might have passed for one of the society women Kate had seen outside the theater last night—was it only last night? How had she ended up in this nightmare in such a short time?
“Hello, I’m Madame Augusta,” the woman said. Kate folded her arms across her chest as the woman looked her up and down. “Joe wasn’t kidding when he said you were a beauty. But you could still do with a little grooming. Come with me, Kate.” She gestured to the door behind her, then rested her icy hand on Kate’s shoulder to guide her through it. For now, Kate had no choice but to obey. She decided in that moment to play along and make them think she was giving in while she figured out a way to escape and run for her life. It would be hard to get very far without clothes or shoes, but she would rather die than do what they wanted her to do.
Kate heard the sound of men’s laughter from downstairs as Madame Augusta led her down a long hallway to a bedroom with a frilly brass bed. A single gas lamp lit the room and a warm fire burned in the gas fireplace. Beside the fire was a table with a tray of food—roast beef and potatoes and green beans, a basket of dinner rolls and butter. Kate’s stomach rumbled with hunger. “You can relax and have something to eat,” Madame Augusta said. “Joe told me to give you a few days to adjust to your new home before you entertain guests.” Kate squeezed her hands into fists as she fought back her rage. She had to play along. She had to escape. She shivered as she sat down at the table and picked up one of the rolls. “Good girl,” Madame Augusta said. She turned and left, locking the door.
With each day that passed, Kate pretended to relax a little more. Madame and her servants gave her warm, perfumed baths and beauty treatments, trimming her nails and her hair. She was allowed to walk down the hallway to the upstairs lounge where Joe had first brought her so she could visit with the other women. Kate did her best to laugh with them and not let on that she was terrified. The food was plentiful and delicious, the room warm, the bed soft and luxurious, yet Kate knew she was running out of time. The only way out, she decided, was through the window in her bedroom. It was a long way down to the alley two stories below, but she figured she might make it without breaking both of her legs if she tied her bedsheets together and fastened one end to the bedpost. She was looking down from the window one evening after supper when she heard her door open. She whirled around in terror. Joe was standing there.
“Hello, little beauty.” He slowly walked toward her, looking her over. “I see Augusta did a good job with you. Turn around for me.” Kate did as she was told. “Good. Good,” he said when she faced him again. “Now, remember to smile, and try not to look so frightened.” He left again. Her time was up.
Kate tore the sheets off her bed with shaking hands and knotted them together as fast as she could. Would her makeshift rope be long enough? She dragged the bed closer to the window, then fastened one end of the sheets to the post. A gust of icy air blew in as she opened the window. She couldn’t go out half-dressed, but where could she find clothes? Kate could tell by the sounds coming from the room next door that her neighbor was entertaining a gentleman. She decided to take a chance. Kate slipped from her room and opened the neighboring door as quietly as she could. A bowler hat lay on a chair just inside. She could use it to cover up her hair. A man’s striped shirt lay on the floor a few feet away. Kate dropped to her hands and knees and crawled inside to snatch the shirt and hat, then raced ba
ck to her own room.
Don’t look down, she told herself as she swung her legs over the windowsill. The rough bricks scraped her skin all the way down but she didn’t have time to worry about it. Her makeshift rope ended a good ten feet from the bottom, so she had no choice but to let go and drop, hoping she wouldn’t break any bones. Her landing sent a jolt of pain through her body, but she picked up the bowler hat, which had fallen from her head, staggered to her feet, and ran.
Kate needed to get as far away as she could as fast as she could, so she ignored the bruising pain in her feet from the cold, stony pavement and the stitch in her side that felt like a knife blade. She ran down the dark alleyway until her lungs gave out and her heart felt like it would burst, then collapsed to the ground and crawled behind a garbage bin until she could gather enough strength to run some more. This was a wealthy part of town, and Kate knew she would arouse suspicion if anyone saw her running around at night in her undergarments. She waited until she could breathe again, then stood and kept going, on and on throughout the long, cold night. The most dangerous part would be crossing the river. Surely Joe’s men would be watching for her there. She chose to cross at one of the swing bridges, waiting in the shadows until it opened and a line of vehicles gathered to cross. Kate crawled into the traffic jam on her hands and knees, then clung to the back of a covered carriage until she reached the other side. She made it to the Southside by dawn, battered and exhausted—but safe. She crept into an unlocked stable behind a grocery store, curled into a ball in the hay, and slept.
The sound of church bells awakened her the next morning. She remembered seeing a church the night before and wondered if someone there would help her. Kate peered out of the stable window to watch the front of the sanctuary and saw that even the poor people in this neighborhood dressed in their Sunday best to attend church. She would surely stand out wearing nothing but her undergarments and a man’s shirt. These Christian people would be appalled by her and by where she had been living. She stood at the window for a long time, until the service ended an hour later and people started coming out again. A man in a long black robe and clerical collar stood on the steps shaking everyone’s hand. Then a curious thing began to happen. Dozens of children began streaming toward the church, going in through a door on the side. Most of them were dressed in rags, and many of them had bare feet, just like her. She decided to take a chance and follow them, knowing it was only a matter of time before someone came to the stable to tend the horses. She tucked her hair inside her hat and went outside.
The scariest part was racing across the street in the open. But she made it without attracting attention and slipped in through the back door where she’d seen the children go. Kate stood in the little vestibule for a while, peering inside at the activity. Two middle-aged women were telling stories to the children, and just beyond them on a chair was a woman’s purse. It was leather and expensive-looking and probably held a lot of money. Kate was trying to figure out how to get past all the children so she could steal it when they suddenly stood and went to another part of the big room to sit down at the tables. Kate summoned her courage and inched her way into the room. She hadn’t made it very far when one of the middle-aged ladies hurried over and asked Kate if she would like to join them. Thankfully, the woman went away again after Kate told her “No, thanks.”
Kate continued her slow journey across the room, keeping one eye on the purse and the other on a tall, skinny man with blond hair who stood around doing nothing. The moment she had the purse-handle in her hand, Kate raced from the room, slamming the door in the blond man’s face. She knew she would be easy to spot, running down the street, so she circled around to the front of the church and crawled into the dense thicket of bushes that flanked the front door. Relief flooded through Kate when she opened the purse and saw how much money was inside. There was enough to buy clothes and shoes and food, enough to stay hidden for a while until Joe got tired of looking for her, enough so she wouldn’t have to steal and get caught by the police again. Joe had said he had policemen working for him. Kate thought about buying a train ticket and getting out of Chicago for good, but she didn’t know how she would manage it since she couldn’t read. Besides, Joe’s men might be watching the station.
In the end, the money from the purse didn’t last nearly as long as Kate had hoped, even though she bought clothes and shoes and a straw hat from the secondhand man. Before long, she found herself back at the church on a Sunday morning, hoping she could get away with stealing from the middle-aged women a second time. Everything was just as it had been before—the ladies, the dozens of children, the skinny man with the blond hair. And the purse, sitting right where it had been the last time. But this time the blond man caught her before she had a chance to get away. “Stop! Thief!” he shouted as he wrenched the purse from her hands. He had his other arm around Kate’s waist, gripping her tightly as she punched and kicked to free herself.
“Let me go!” she yelled.
“This is the same girl who stole from you before,” the man said, yanking off her hat to reveal her bright red hair. He was taller and stronger than she was and didn’t mind her blows. “I’ll hold on to her while you send for the police,” he said. Kate was wild with terror, certain she would end up in jail where Joe would find her.
But the ladies didn’t call for the police. “Let’s go into the church while we deal with this,” one of them said. The man dragged Kate into the sanctuary, and there was something about the quiet peace and grandeur of the place that calmed her down a little. Even so, she couldn’t understand why these ridiculous rich women were offering to take her home and let her work for them. She’d been fooled once before by Joe, who’d seemed so nice until he’d taken her captive. Yet if she didn’t agree, Kate would end up back in jail, where Joe would surely find her. She was trying to decide what to do when one of the ladies mentioned that they lived in Evanston. Joe would never think to look for her there.
“What do you say?” the fair-haired lady asked her.
Kate glanced toward the door again, half-expecting to see Joe or the police. In the end, she feared him and his thugs more than she feared these women. “I got nothing to lose,” she said. “I’ll go.”
Chapter 30
THE SINAI DESERT
1890
The sheikh brought his rifle to Kate’s phony wedding ceremony. She happened to peer through the tent flap and saw him arrive with his band of men. “He makes me nervous,” she told Miss Flora and Miss Rebecca. “He acts like he’s some sort of prison guard.”
“He’s probably more of a danger to himself with that silly gun than to any of us,” Miss Rebecca said. “But just in case he understands a word or two of English and hasn’t told us, we’ll need to make this wedding look as authentic as possible. In fact, if you don’t need me, I think I’ll hover around outside and eavesdrop on his conversation to see if our preparations are convincing him.” She untied the flap and disappeared outside.
“Hold still, dear,” Miss Flora said, “so I can finish pinning your veil.” Miss Flora had taken some greenery from one of the trees in the monk’s garden and twisted it into a crown to attach to Kate’s veil. The sisters had scrounged through all their clothing, and after a bit of sewing, Kate was now dressed in a lacy blouse and long, cotton skirt that Miss Rebecca said made her look very pretty. The wedding was set to take place outside the monastery in the garden, which was a lot nicer than the rest of the desert surrounding them. The monks, who wouldn’t be attending, had agreed to let Miss Flora’s cook use the monastery’s kitchens to prepare the feast, something that would have been impossible to do on his tiny camp stove. Kate had already decided she wasn’t going to eat any of it—first, because she was too nervous to eat, and second, because Miss Rebecca had sent Mr. Farouk over to the Bedouin camp to buy a goat to roast, and Kate certainly wasn’t going to eat any of that!
“Time to go, dear,” Miss Flora said when the last pin was in place. “You look beautiful.”
Kate drew a shaky breath and ducked beneath the tent flap. Miss Flora linked her arm through hers to walk Kate down the aisle between the garden beds. Miss Rebecca, who would perform the ceremony, stood beside Petersen at the end of the stony path. A trickle of sweat ran down Petersen’s thin face. He looked as if he were melting.
“Dearly beloved,” Miss Rebecca began. “We are gathered here today to partake in a terrible deception, with the hope that our lives will be spared and we won’t have to live out our years in this monastery. . . . Smile, everyone,” she added. “This is a joyful occasion.” Petersen pasted on a quick smile—the first one Kate had ever seen—but she didn’t bother, since no one could see her beneath the veil.
They went through the motions of the simulated wedding, joining hands at one point after Miss Rebecca asked, “Do you wish to get out of the Sinai Desert and back home to Chicago again? If so, smile and repeat, ‘I do.’”
“I do!” Kate said.
“The ring, please,” Miss Rebecca said. Petersen pulled out the ring Miss Flora had let him borrow and slipped it onto Kate’s hand. “Do you promise to return this ring to its rightful owner when this phony marriage is dissolved?” Miss Rebecca asked with a bright smile.
“I do,” Kate and Petersen said at the same time. Then came the moment Kate had dreaded the most. Petersen had to lift the veil and give Kate a convincing kiss. He held her carefully—the way you might hold a dog you weren’t too sure about—and his lips touched hers for a moment. Kate looked up at him afterward and pretended she had liked it. Better him than the sheikh, she thought with a shudder.
