Vegas rich

by Michaels, Fern

  Philip stared at his pupil in the early evening light. In his young life he'd never seen such an intent, questioning gaze, never heard such a pitiful plea. "It's up to you and me to make it all happen. My time is yours. If you're dedicated and determined, I think you'll be reading the Nevada Sentinel by Christmas. Maybe sooner. I'll make our lessons as enjoyable as I can, but you have to cooperate. Now, I suggest we take a walk around this lovely garden so we can digest that fine dinner. Do you know the names of the flowers?"

  "No."

  "The trees?"

  "No. I just call them posies. My mama always said flowers were posies."

  "Do you know how the artesian well works? Would you like me to explain it to you, or would you rather wait until our lessons are further along? It's a complicated process."

  "The well doesn't interest me. You can tell me later. Mr. Waring did tell me that no one else has one."

  "I can understand why. You need engineers, geologists, and the right rock formations. It's a very cosdy process. I'm surprised you have one. These flowers were planted with careful thought and precision. I wonder if a horticulturist designed the garden. The colors all blend so perfectly. Yes, very careful thought was given to this garden. I imagine you will spend many happy hours here. I personally can't think of a nicer place for us to work at our studies."

  SaUie shrugged. "I think I'll redre now, Mr. Thornton. I usually breakfast at six. We can begin our lessons right afterward. I enjoyed our walk in the garden. Good night."

  Artesian wells, engineers, geologists, horticulturists, designed gardens. She felt so ignorant she wanted to cry. The moment her eyes stopped burning, Sallie squared her shoulders. Cotton had told her once that all things were possible.

  Her intention had been to go in the house and prepare for bed, but instead she found herself sitting on a small stone bench. In the early evening light, with the stars twdnkling downward, Sallie thought her garden one of the prettiest places she'd ever seen. The

  faint scent of a flower, whose name she didn't know, came to her. One day she would ask Joseph the name of the flower.

  Sallie looked up at the sky, wishing she could see between the stars. She felt like a child who needed to talk to her mother and best friend.

  "I'm pure worried. Mama." She'd felt inferior with Philip. She said so, her voice a bare whisper in the darkness. "I know you're in heaven and can't do anything but listen. I'm going to work hard. I'll stay up late with my lessons. I know I can never know everything like Philip, but I can give him a run for his money. Cotton told me that once. What that means, Mama, is, he's not expecting me to catch on real quick. I'm going to fool him. He's going to have to run real fast to catch me. I don't think he knows or understands how bad I need this learning. I'll come out here each night before I go to sleep 2md tell you how my lessons are going.

  "It would please me gready. Mama, if you'd whisper in God's ear that I am mighty thankful for all the good He's showered on me. If you see Cotton, tell him the same thing. Oh, I wish I knew if you could hear me, Mama. I wish I knew what heaven was like. I wish so many things. I'll say my good night now."

  In his room, which overlooked the garden, Philip Thornton watched the young girl on the bench, looking as if she were talking to the sky.

  She was so beautiful and so very young. If she lived back in Boston, she'd have every eligible young buck snifiing after her. She might even be married with a child. The thought caused his heart to pound until he thought it would burst right out of his chest. Suddenly, he wanted to kick off his shoes and socks and rush out to the garden to grab Sallie's hand and run about the way litde children did when they were at play. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew that Sallie had never had the chance to play as a child.

  Philip thought about his own childhood, his friends and his home. Compared to Sallie's life, he'd been rich and hadn't even known it. Anger coursed through him. It wasn't right. Sallie's mean beginnings, and he was just guessing that they were mean, would stay with her for all her life. She wasn't the type to forget anything. All the money in the world couldn't take away years of whatever it was Sallie had endured. He offered up a prayer that he could be the one to turn diings around for Sallie Coleman. He wanted to be the one to

  drive the sadness and sorrow from her eyes. He wanted to be the one to make those bluebell eyes sparkle.

  A wave of heat rippled through his body. What was he thinking? He'd known Sallie Coleman less than two days. He was the teacher, Sallie was the pupiL And that's the way it would remain.

  For now.

  SaUie danced around her room, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. She was finally going to school for the first time in her life. Her only regret was that she wasn't going to be in a regular classroom. Cotton had told her how he'd behaved in school and what to expect should she ever decide she wanted to go. Now, thanks to Cotton, she was going.

  Tripping about the room, clapping her hands together, Sallie stopped long enough to admire her school attire. Navy blue skirt, crisp white blouse with long sleeves and a tiny navy bow at the neck, dark shoes, and thick white stockings. A bright red hair ribbon lay on top of the white blouse. She'd tried on her clothes so many times in the past two days Anna had to press out the wrinkles three different times.

  She was ready.

  Almost.

  Sallie looked at the clock. Ten minutes to midnight. She should have been in bed hours ago. As if she could sleep. It wouldn't hurt to take one last look at the makeshift classroom she'd hadjoseph prepare. She'd told him what she wanted, and, as if by magic, the furnishings had appeared. Thanks to Alvin Waring. She hadn't questioned anything. She wanted, she got. It was that simple.

  In her bare feet, her nightdress billowing behind her, Sallie crept down the hall to the empty bedroom that was now her classroom. Cautiously she opened the door and walked inside. The moonlight showed her everything was in place. The huge blackboard nailed to the wall, the single desk that was to be hers, Mr. Thornton's desk and chair direcdy beneath the blackboard. Open boxes of chalk, a cup full of pencils and pens, ink botties, stacks of tablets, and three boxes of erasers. She'd ordered more than enough. Rulers, not just one but six, stood like soldiers in a separate leather cup.

  She rubbed her hands over the shiny desk, imagining the moment when Philip Thornton told her to take her seat. She shivered with anticipation. The desire to write her name on the blackboard was

  so strong, she walked over to the desk and picked up a piece of chalk. She brought it to her nose to sniif the dry whiteness. It smelled wonderful.

  At the door, Sallie turned for one last look at her schoolroom. After today, she would no longer be ignorant After today, her life as she'd known it would never be the same. It would only get better and better, and then maybe it would be wonderftil.

  Salhe closed the door softly. "Thank you. Cotton. Thank you, God. I promise you I will learn everything there is to learn even if it kills me. I'm talking to you, God, because Cotton can't hear me. So tell him that for me. It's me, Sallie Coleman making this promise. Tell him I said good night, too."

  The dawn was blue-gray, laced with lavender shadows, when Sallie woke and dressed. Su Li, carrying a breakfast tray, tapped hghdy on her door just as Sallie finished tying the red ribbon in her hair. She declined the food, and only touched some coffee.

  When Sallie walked into the schoolroom, she was certain her heart was going to leap right out of her chest. She saw it all in one swift glance—Philip Thornton, letters already written on the blackboard, tablet and pencil on her desk.

  Sallie's steps faltered when she saw the look of wry amusement on his face. A dark flush raced up her neck onto her face. Sallie knew she was dressed wrong. Phihp Thornton was expecting to see the fashionable young lady he thought her to be. Was her schoolgirl outfit a mistake? Brazen it out. She damn well liked what she was wearing. She'd looked forward to this moment for a long time, and she wasn't about to let Philip Thornton spoil it. All she had to do was remember that
she was the one paying his salary. "Good morning, Mr. Thornton."

  "Good morning. Miss Sallie. May I say you look . . . proper."

  '*You may, but it would be a damn lie, and we both know it."

  "I... what.. .?"

  **You're here to teach me. Start teaching."

  "Be seated, Miss SaDie," Thornton said, his face red from her brisk words. "As you can see, I wrote my name on the blackboard. I want you to write your name underneath mine. I also want you to write the month, day, and the year. I want you to print as well as write. I want to see how advanced your penmanship is."

  Her face crimson, Sallie walked on wobbly legs to the blackboard. She smelled her own fear, the newness of the blackboard, the flat scent of the chalk when she picked it up. She squared her shoulders

  and gritted her teeth. She printed her name, the letters different sizes, the a and the n in Coleman going downhill. She needed lined paper. She whirled around. "It's the best I can do, Mr. Thornton. I can read some if the letters are printed, but I can't read writing. I can't write the month or the day."

  "It's a start, Miss Sallie," Philip said. "What this tells me is we will start at the beginning. Your tablet has lines on it. We'll do the ABCs first. All the letters except the capital ones will be the same size. Two pages of each letter. There are twenty-six letters in the alphabet. When you're done you'll have fifty-two pieces of paper to hand me. rU give you a mark. If the papers are good, the mark will be red. If the papers are poor, the mark will be green. If you give me an outstanding paper at some point, you'll receive a gold star. I'm very stingy with my gold stars, so don't count on getting many of them."

  "How many of them do you have, Mr. Thornton?"

  "A dozen or so. Why?"

  "I think you need to place an order for more. I'm waiting for the letters. You have to write them on the board for me."

  "So you are. My apologies. I'm writing the date now. Each paper needs to have the date and your name on it. Today is July 26, 1923. Print your name at the top like this, then underneath, print the date. I correct papers at night and return them in the morning. Is that acceptable. Miss Sallie?"

  "Yes. It does make for worry, though," Sallie muttered, her head bent to the task in fi-ont of her.

  Philip, his face to the blackboard, smiled. He made a mental note to write home to his older brother, also a teacher, to have him send a box of gold stars. He wished he knew how this beautiful, rich young woman could be so uneducated.

  It was nine o'clock when Sallie shuffled her papers into a neat pile and handed them to Philip. "Are the numbers next?"

  "Yes. One through ten. Two pages each. Name and date on each page. When you complete the numbers we'll have recess."

  "I'm not a child, Mr. Thornton. I don't require recess. I prefer to keep working. Su Li will fetch us some tea and coffee at ten o'clock."

  "It's the law, Miss Sallie."

  "This isn't a real school. Mister Thornton. You are tutoring me. I'm nineteen years old. The law doesn't work here in my house. In my house I'm the law, and I say no recess." This was all said as she painstakingly wrote the number 1 down the length of the page.

  Philip snapped the ruler in his hand against the side of the desk. "Miss Sallie, look at me. We need to get something straight right now. In this room, I am the boss. I am the teacher. I will not put up with tantrums, tears, or womanly wiles. Furthermore, I don't care how rich you are. You will always treat me with respect, and I will show you that same respect. I will not, under any circumstances, allow you to dictate to me. Is that understood? If it is, we will have a twenty-minute recess commencing at ten o'clock when Su Li brings our tea or coffee. Tell me your answer." He watched, baffled, as a kaleidoscope of emotions showed on SaUie's face. Anger, fear, humiliation, humbleness. He felt like biting off his tongue for causing her one moment of discomfort. However, he held her gaze until she lowered her head.

  "I saw your face when I walked into the room this morning, Mister Thornton. You didn't show me respect then. You were baffled at the way I look. I saw it on your face. I never went to school, as you well know. If I want to dress like a schoolgirl, I will dress like a schoolgirl because lama, schoolgirl. Your recess is a silly rule, but if that's what they do in a real school, I have no other choice, do I? Do you understand that, NIr. Thornton? If so, let me finish my work. In this room I will listen to you, but only in this room."

  "Fair enough."

  "Damn straight it's fair," Ssillie said under her breath.

  "A lady, Miss SaJHe, never uses profanity," Phihp said quiedy.

  "This lady does." The eraser she was using tore the paper. "See what you made me do!"

  "You tore the paper yourself You aren't scrubbing a floor, you use an eraser lighdy. As I said, a lady never uses profanity. The choice is yours, Miss SalUe."

  The rest of the morning passed quiedy. Teacher and pupil retired to the dining room for a Hght lunch. The moment Philip folded his napkin, Sallie was off her chair and on the way to the second floor classroom.

  "I want to read this afternoon," Sallie said.

  "Reading is not in my lesson plan for today. We're going to do word association. I'll show you pictures and underneath the picture will be a word, sometimes several words. You will tell me what the picture or pictures are. We will then sound it out, and then you will print the word on a sheet of paper. We'll go through the entire alphabet. How many sheets of paper will you need. Miss Sallie?"

  "Twenty-six, After we do that, what are we going to do?"

  "We'll do the same thing with numbers. If you're going to be handling large sums of money in the future, this is going to be very important to you. I'm going to time you with my stopwatch. The timing is not important to you, only to me. I need to know if I have to slow or pick up my pace. Start!" At four-thirty, Philip gathered his cards into a neat pile. "That's it for today, Miss Sallie. Tomorrow we'll pick up where we left off."

  "We still have several hours of daylight. I thought we were going to work till supper. I want to work till supper. I'm paying you a lot of money, Mister Thornton. I want to get my money's worth. Of course, if you're too tired to continue, I can sit here by myself and . . . and do other things. What that means. Mister Thornton is, I'm not going anywhere. Where you go is your choice."

  "If you call me Mister Thornton in that tone of voice one more time, I'm walking out of here. School is over at four-thirty. Sit here if you want. Rome wasn't built in a day. Miss Salhe."

  "What does that mean?"

  "You can sit here and think about it, or you can walk in the garden with me and I'll explain it. There are a lot of things I can teach you outside this room. I'd like to read you some poetry, read to you from the classics, tell you about animals. I'd like to share some of my experiences with you, things I learned outside the classroom during my years of study. Your education needs to be well rounded. For instance, you like to sing. I heard you singing 'Poor Butterfly' the other night. I'd like to know how you learned that song. So you see, you can teach me at the same time. By the way, you have a lovely voice."

  Sallie's face was set into stubborn lines. She looked down at her tablet, at the pencils with dull points. Her eyes ached as she stared at the erasers that were nothing but nubs. Would her papers have green marks on them tomorrow? Cotton always said not to cut off your nose to spite your face. A v^e man always returns to fight another day. If Cotton were here right now he'd say ... what would he say? Was she going through a power struggle udth Philip Thornton? If so, she was not his match. Yet.

  Sallie tapped her pencil with the dull point on the desk. She thought about power, money, control. Before she got up from her chair, she added a fourth word to her list: education. If she didn't go to bed until midnight, she had five fiill hours to repeat her lessons in the privacy of her room. The thought brought a smile to her face. She'd show Philip Thornton. He'd have to buy three boxes of gold stars.

  A friendly but uneasy truce was established between teacher and pupil during the foll
owing weeks and months. When Philip looked at Sallie with suspicious eyes, puzzled at her remarkable progress during those same weeks and months, SaUie just smiled as she held out her paper for her gold star.

  Eleven days before Christmas, Philip called a halt to SaUie's lessons. "School's out. You've done outstanding work, and I'm very proud of you. You not only deserve this break, you need it," he said jovially. "It's time to prepare for the holidays. I'm sure you'll want to decorate the house. It all takes time. You did say, Sallie, you wanted a Boston Christmas."

  "But—"

  "School is closed, SaUie. School always closes for the holidays. No books, no pencils, no lessons. After the New Year, lessons wiU resume."

  "All right, Philip." Sallie smiled as she tried to recall the exact time and place when teacher and pupil had started using each other's first names. "What should we do first?"

  "I think we should go to town. I'd like to buy presents for Anna, Joseph, Su Li, and Chue. I'd also like to get a box of cigars for Mr. Waring. If it weren't for Mr. Waring, I wouldn't be standing here with you right now."

  "I was going to get him a new pipe and some tobacco. He likes to smoke his pipe when he drives. I seen him do that many times."

  "Do you want to try that sentence again, Sallie?"

  "I thought you said school was closed. No more lessons."

  "I did say that, and yes, school is closed. If you aren't going to practice what you learn, what is the point of my teaching you? I wouldn't be a very good teacher if I didn't correct your use of words."

  "You are absolutely correct, Philip. When do you want to go to town? Might I make a suggestion?"

  'Tou might." Philip smiled.

  "I suggest we stay in my town house for as long as it takes us to shop. We'll take Su Li with us. I also want to spend one evening in my bingo palace. My customers expect me to appear from time to time. I want to go to church on Sunday, too. Is that acceptable?"