Vegas rich

by Michaels, Fern

  The money secure in her purse and loose bills in the pocket of her dress, Sallie stopped first at the Mercantile Company for a bag of canned peaches that she immediately handed over to Billy along with ten dollars. She handed out money to all the hard rock miners, admonishing them to eat some good food and to take a bath before they spent the rest in the Red Onion.

  Sallie opened the door to the bingo palace with her own key. In the bright sun filtering into the large room, it looked like a sleazy, smoky, rinky-dink parlor with rough furniture, a rickety bar, bare windows, a cashier's cage, and a small stage that doubled as the bingo stand, where the bingo numbers were called, and where she sang at the beginning and end of the evening. She walked around, touching the felt-covered poker tables at the far end of the room, sitting down and then getting up from the bingo benches. She straightened the stack of bingo cards into a neater pile. Maybe she should throw everything out and start from scratch. She sat down again and closed her eyes. How best to pretty things up? A real stage, small, with a red velvet curtain that opened and closed. Matching draperies on the windows that could be closed in the winter. Chandeliers over the tables for better lighting. Perhaps a spotlight for the stage. A new bar, the kind the Arizona Club had, shiny mahogany with a brass railing. Leather stools with brass trim to match the bar. A new floor with some sections of it carpeted. No more spittoons. Definitely a new front door with glass panels, maybe even colored glass. She'd have some trees planted around the building, flowers if they would grow. She walked over to the farthest comer of the room, where she sat when things were slow or when she just wanted time by herself. She sat down on a wobbly chair and leaned her arms on a table whose legs didn't match. She smiled when the table rocked back and forth the same way her chair did. Cotton said the man who made the chair and table had a crooked eye. She wondered if she would miss things the way they were now. Old things were comfortable. New things took some getting used to.

  Sallie stared at the small stage where she called out the bingo numbers hour after hour. She was always happy when a grizzly miner won his four bits and whooped in delight, his dirty boots stomping on the floor, the other miners cheering him on.

  The bingo palace didn't make a lot of money, barely enough to pay the winners and herself. The doors opened at noon for her regular customers. By paying close attention she was able to tell which customers were hungry, which customers came to gamble, and

  which ones just wanted to hear her sing. The hungry ones were her biggest problem. Jeb, the owner of the steak house, allowed her to run a tab for hard-boiled eggs and pickles that she handed out on a daily basis. Most days if she had thirty customers she was lucky. The three poker tables covered in green felt had dust all over them. Most of her customers didn't have enough money to start up a poker hand, and those that did had to extend credit and write lOUs. The bingo cards were safer. Often she sat at one of the tables with her customers, playing poker for dry beans. She always lost. On rare occasions when one of the miners had a little extra in his poke, he'd lay money on the bar for her. Right before she closed at midnight she'd sKp that same money under Jeb's door to pay off her marker.

  What she really loved about her customers was the fact that they did their best to act like gentlemen when they came into the palace. They'd spruce up by sHcking their hsiir back, shaking the dust from their clothes and boots. Most times they washed their hands even though they didn't have enough money for a room and a hot tub. She could always tell when they trimmed their whiskers, and she'd always compliment them and tell them they looked like fashionable Boston gendemen. They'd cackle with glee and then she would laugh, too, when she was forced to admit she'd never seen a proper Boston gentleman.

  Things were going to change now. For the first time in her young life, Sallie felt fear of the unknown. If only she weren't so ignorant of the world. There wasn't much she could do about the fear of the unknown. She could get some learning, though. She wished again for her brothers, Seth and Josh. If only she knew where they were. All in good time or, as Cotton said, Rome wasn't built in one day, whatever that meant.

  In her room at the boardinghouse, with the door closed and locked, Sallie opened the wooden box. Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, she looked at all the bankbooks—red ones, blue ones, green ones, two brown ones. So many numbers. She tried to comprehend the number of zeros. Mr. Waring made it sound like she could buy the world. The world! She wept then at her ignorance.

  When there were no more tears to shed, Sallie's thoughts turned to Cotton Easter, her benefactor. I don't understand, Cotton, if you had all that money, why did you live like you did? There were times whenyou were

  hungry and didn't have the money to rent a room. You didn't have a dollar for a bath. Life could have been so much easier for you.

  I wish you had let me know what you were planning. What should I do with allyour money, Cotton? I never knew there was so much money in the world. You must want me to do something. What? She looked around, half-expecting to hear Cotton's voice. She flopped back against the ruffled pillows, the wooden box toppling over. She saw it then, the crinkled piece of white paper. A letter. Maybe it was for her, from Cotton. She crossed her fingers and then blessed herself. Please let it be printed letters. Please, God, let me be able to read the words. Don't let me be ignorant now. I need to know why Cotton was so good and kind to me. Please, God. Pll build a church. I swear to You I will. Pll call it St. Cotton Easter. Cotton was a religious man. He prayed every day. He taught me a prayer. I promise Pll say it every day.

  Sallie squeezed her eyes shut as her fingers played with the folds of the crinkled letter. When she was calm, she spread the single sheet on her lap. The block letters and simple language brought tears to her eyes.

  DEAR SALUE,

  IF YOU HAVE THIS LETTER LN HAND THEN YOU KNOW I DIED. I'M LEAVING YOU ALL I HAVE. I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU DO WITH IT. I MEAN THE MONEY. IT NEVER BROUGHT ME ANY HAPPINESS, BUT IT WILL ALLOW YOU TO BECOME A FLNE LADY. ALVIN WILL HELP YOU. HE'S A GOOD MAN AND YOU CAN TRUST HIM. SALLIE, YOU WILL BE THE RICHEST WOMAN LN THE STATE OF NEVADA. YOU JUST BE CAREFUL WHO YOU TRUST. DON'T EVER TELL ANYONE THE WAY LNTO THE SAFE. NOW YOU CAN STOP SLIDING INTO OTHER MEN'S BEDS. THERE'S NO NEED FOR YOU TO TELL ANYONE YOU DID THAT. REMEMBER WHAT I TOLD YOU. DON'T SHARE YOUR BUSLNESS WITH OTHER PEOPLE. SOME THLNGS NEED TO BE KEPT SECRET. I LOVE YOU, SALLIE. DON'T GO LAUGHING ON ME NOW. I KNOW I'M OLD ENOUGH TO BE YOUR PA OR YOUR GRANDDADDY. A MAN CAN'T HARDLY STOP WHAT HIS HEART FEELS. I DIDN'T EVEN WANT TO TRY. I WANT YOU TO BE

  HAPPY, SALUE. YOU HAVE A GOOD, KIND HEART. SOMETIMES YOU ARE TOO GOOD. YOU TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF AND WHEN YOU HAVE TIME, 1SIT MY GRAVE AND TALK TO ME. I WON'T BE ABLE TO ANSWER YOU, BUT I'LL BE ABLE TO HEAR YOU. THAT'S ALL I ASK OF YOU, SALUE. I HOPE YOU FIND A GOOD MAN WHO WILL GFV^E YOU CHILDREN AND WHO WILL LOVE YOU THE WAY YOU DESERVE TO BE LOVED. DON'T SHARE YOUR PAST, SALLIE, OR IT WILL COME BACK TO HAUNT YOU. I LOVE YOU, SALUE.

  YOUR FRIEND, COTTON EASTER

  Sallie rolled over on the bed and burst into tears. "I never got a letter before," she whispered into her pillow. "I'll keep this letter forever and ever. I'll read it every day and I'U do what you say. I'll visit and we'll talk. I'll talk and you listen. That's what you said, Cotton. You have my promise that I won't. . . you know, do what you said." A moment later she was off the bed and out the door. She ran, skidding around the corners, not caring who saw her or what they thought. She had something to do. Something important Later she could worry about acting like a lady.

  When she arrived at the cemetery she was breathless and disheveled. Her eyes were frantic as she searched out the mound of dark earth that waited for the marker. When she saw the dried flower petals she knew she had the right grave. She'd spent the last of her money on the small bouquet. Now she could bring fresh flowers every day if she wanted to.

  SaUie sat down on the hard ground. She brought her knees up to her chin and hugged them with her arms. "Cotton, it's me, Sallie. I got your letter today. It was i
n the box with all the bankbooks. It was real nice of you to leave me all your money. I'm going to take the train to Texas and visit my family. I took some of the money out of the bank. I'm going to buy my mama a nice htde house and a new dress. I'll get things for the young ones, too, and maybe see about getting them some learning. I can't wait to see my mother's face when I walk in the door. She always said Seth would be the one to make a lot of money. Seth was the oldest I never knew him be-

  cause he lit out before I was born. So did Josh. Ma was so proud of her two oldest sons. Every day she'd say they're coming back and will bring presents for everyone. They never did. Then Ma stopped talking about them. I don't even know what they look like, Cotton. Ma said they were the spittin' image of Pa. Maybe someday I can find them and help them out. It don't seem right that I don't know what my o'wn brothers look like. All I can see, Cotton, is Ma's face. I know she was pretty when she was a young girl, but Pa, he drained the life out of her. I used to hear her cry at night, but she always had a smile on her face in the morning.

  "I haven't seen that house up in the hills yet. It must be a beautiful place to be called Sunrise. Maybe Mama will want to come here and live with me. That would be okay, wouldn't it. Cotton? I'll get her a fancy chair so she can just sit and do nothing. I'll bring her flowers and give her steak to eat every day. I'm going to get her the prettiest dress in the whole world. Fancy shoes, too, and stockings. A pearl necklace, Cotton. I'll rub glycerine on her hands, file her fingernails, and maybe put some polish on them. I don't know what I'll do about Pa. Maybe I'll just let him drink hisself to death. That seems to be the only thing that makes him happy.

  "I'm going to buy a new dress. Cotton, for the trip. I want Ma to be proud of me when she sees me. I want to thank you for all this good. I promised God I was going to build a church and call it St. Cotton Easter. Maybe the preacher will let me sing on Sunday. I'd like that. I'll sing for you, Cotton. You look down on me, you hear. Do you have wings. Cotton? Jeb McGuire said angels have wings and they ring litde bells. 'Course he was drunk when he said that. I like the way it sounds. I have so much to learn. Cotton. I don't hardly know nothing. I'm going to be twenty years old and I'm ignorant as some of them miners who never had any schoolin' at all.

  "I know you wanted to be planted here, Cotton, but I been thinking. If I move into that house up in the hills, I won't be able to come here too much. I don't want you gettin' lonely here all by yourself I'd be Vkdlling to dig you up and take you up there. Mr. Waring said there's all kinds of flowers and gardens. I could make you a cemetery and talk to you every day. I want you to think about that, Cotton, and when I come back the next time, I want a sign that you think it's okay. If Jeb is right, ring your little bell. It's going to be a couple of weeks till I can come back here. I'll tell you all about my trip to Texas on the train. Maybe I'll have my whole family with me when

  I come to visit next time. My mama will want to thank you personal like. She has manners, my mama does.

  "I need to be going home now. I'll be here on Sunday when they put up your marker. I want you to know, Cotton, I paid for that with my own money, not yours. I don't like to say good-bye so I'll just say I'll be back. The sagebrush smells real sweet today. There aren't any clouds in the sky. It's dusty and dry." There was genuine concern in her voice when she said, "If there aren't any clouds in the sky, what are you resting on?"

  SaUie stood, smoothed down her dress, and did her best to tuck her flyaway blond ciu-ls back into place. She sniffed at the sagebrush-scented air before she waved her arm in a jaunty little salute of happiness.

  Sallie climbed down fixjm the wagon that was loaded with her personal possessions. She savored the moment by squeezing her eyes shut and then opening them slowly, drinking in the sight of her new home. In her life she had never dreamed such a place existed. The flower borders surrounding the house were every color of the rainbow. She bent down to touch the dark soil. It was moist to the touch, and from somewhere she could hear water dripping. The lawn was springy underfoot and damp, greener than a carpet of emeralds. She looked to the left and then to the right, "Now I know why Cotton's granddaddy called this place Sunrise," she murmured.

  She backed up until she was standing between a row of tall stately-looking trees that afforded her a better look at the house, which was now hers. Pristine white columns glistened in the sun. She thought about the tar paper shack she'd lived in with her family back in Texas, a shanty with no windows and a door that had to be nailed shut and stuffed with rags in the winter. The door on this house was stout and beautiful, with tiny diamond-shaped panes of colored glass at the top. A heavy brass handle was just as shiny as the windows. But it was the heavy quarry stone in muted shades of gray and brown that brought a smile to her face. There would be no drafts in this house in the winter.

  Sallie meandered around the grounds. Benches circled trees, and stone ornaments of different animals dotted the litde path that led nowhere. It was cool and dim, green and lush. She tried to imagine herself sitting in the gazebo with a frosty glass of lemonade, dressed

  in a frilly pink afternoon dress, with a book in hand she couldn't read. She giggled. "Oh, Cotton, you should see me now."

  She was at the front door now. Should she lift the heavy brass knocker? Should she fit the huge brass key into the lock? She was saved from making a decision when the heavy door creaked open. A plump woman, wearing a white apron and a braid of hair that circled her head like a halo, smiled. "Please, miss, come in. Joseph will see to your bags. I am Anna. I cook and clean. My husband tends the gardens and takes care of the animals. Come, come, let me show you your new home."

  "Can you open the windows?" Sallie asked.

  "But of course. Would you like me to open them for you?"

  "Oh, yes. Yes, yes, I would. I want to see the curtains flutter in the breeze. Do all the windows have screens?"

  "Yes. I do not open them because Joseph and I don't use the house. We live in one of the cottages in the back. Is there anything you'd like me to do for you now?"

  "I'd like to see my room and maybe take a bath. If you don't mind, I'd like to walk through the house myself and look at things."

  "It is your house, Miss Coleman. Do you have anything in particular that you'd like me to make for your dinner?"

  "It doesn't matter. I do like pie, though. Sweet pie. Very sweet." She smiled wickedly and patted her hips. "I like gravy and potatoes. I like most anything."

  "Joseph has a garden he tends. I can the vegetables for the winter. We have a wonderfiil cold cellar. The special room is in the back. Joseph has the key. He'U turn it over to you at supper. Is there anything else I can do for you? Would you like me to draw your bath?"

  "No, thank you. I want to do all that myself. Later on we can discuss your . . . dudes."

  Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, she was acting like a grand mistress. How wonderful it felt! She sobered almost immediately when she thought about how her mother waited on other people and wore herself down to nothing more than skin and bones. Sallie made a promise to herself that she would never take advantage of anyone who worked for her. Cotton always said you should treat people the way you yourself wanted to be treated. He was right. She'd learned so much from Cotton.

  Sallie walked from room to room, her lips pursed in a round circle of approval. She didn't know how she knew, but she was sure that this house looked like houses in Boston. All of the shiny dark

  furniture must have belonged to Cotton's grandmother or mother. The rugs were thin, colorftd, with fringes around the edge. Some were round, most of them square. There were big ones and httle ones. Her mother was purely going to smile cind smile when she described the brilliant bird in the center of one particular rug. But always, in each room, her gaze settled on the windows and the lace curtains.

  She chose a room at the end of the long hallway that overlooked the lush green gardens. The small balcony leading off the dressing room made her squeal in dehght She loved the French doors and the fine wooden
floors. The high four-poster with the three-step stool with its canopy of lace made her grin from ear to ear. "I can't hairdly beheve this," she whispered to herself Two giant closets rested side by side on one wall. Plenty of room for her ricky-ticky saloon gowns and feather boas. A dresser with flowered marble drawer pulls on all nine drawers caused her to suck in her breath. She didn't have enough underwear to fill the deep cavities. She walked around the room, finally sitting down on a sky-blue satin chaise longue that looked like no one had ever sat in it. Well, she was going to sit in it every day.

  Now it was time to open the windows. She pushed the lace curtains aside, stretched her arms to push and tug at the window, and reached down for the wooden screen. She waited for the lace curtains to billow inward. When nothing happened, Sallie rusded the curtains. Still they didn't move inward. She was so disappointed she wanted to cry. She marched over to the bed and climbed up. She sat, determined to wait as long as she had to, until the curtains moved.

  Maybe she should lie down and rest her eyes. Within minutes she was sound asleep. The afternoon passed quiedy, and she woke when she felt a warm movement of air. She wiped the sleep firom her eyes, uncertain if she W2is truly awake or not. A smile that rivaled the afternoon sunshine stretched across her face when she saw the lace curtains dance in the breeze. "Ohhhh," was all she could think of to say. "This is the happiest day of my life," she said aloud. "Thank you, Cotton, thank you from the bottom of my heart."

  Sallie forgot about the step stool and slid off the bed, landing on her backside. She laughed then, peals of joy, as she kicked out with her legs, banging the heels of her shoes on the carpeted floor.

  Time for her bath. She looked around for the doorway 2md saw her bags and boxes stacked neady to the side. Anna must have un-