Ophelia's War

by Alison L. McLennan

  We took a stroll after dinner. Even though it was late, the town was hopping with all kinds of people, mostly miners, carrying on in the saloons and drabs. The main street sported both clapboard shanties as well as sturdier structures constructed of adobe bricks and stones. A jaunty violin tune drifted from The Elkhorn Saloon competing with the music of a player piano from The Exchange Saloon. A painted lady stood on the porch to The Cabinet Saloon. Tobacco, grilled meat, and the smell of horse dung hung in the air. I urged Charlie into each one of the saloons.

  He hesitated and muttered, “A nice married couple wouldn’t be poking around in all these saloons.”

  “Who cares?” I said. “I want to find Zeke.” I clutched his elbow and nudged him into the Pioneer Billiard Hall. The sandstone silver mine must have been productive to support the saloons, three breweries, countless tobacco shops, and a huge mercantile. I marveled at how they transported so many goods to a place with no rail service.

  Charlie was right. All cleaned up and with a proper dress, I attracted much unwanted attention from the men in the saloons. As in most other mining towns, there was a severe shortage of women in Silver Reef. I didn’t want trouble, or for Charlie to get in a scuffle trying to protect my nonexistent honor, so I finally suggested we retire and find Zeke the next day.

  Our room at the Cosmopolitan Hotel had two small beds, a sitting area, a wash basin, a mirror, and a writing desk. After three nights on the trail with Charlie, I thought most of the awkwardness between us had dissolved. Yet when we found ourselves alone in candlelit quarters after posing as husband and wife all evening, I felt an arousing uneasiness between us. The room grew smaller. I became intensely aware of each movement and breath.

  In the desert, Charlie had slept with his boots on. But in the hotel room he took them off, set his six-shooter on the table, and reclined on the bed. He moaned. “As much as I like sleeping in plain air, I do appreciate a bath and a bed. How do you fare, Miss Ophelia? It sure is nice to see you refreshed.”

  I rinsed my hands and face in the wash basin. It was easy to get my skin clean since I had stopped painting my face. “Yes, it is quite nice. But I mustn’t grow too accustomed as we still have a long journey back.”

  “How does it feel to be my wife?”

  I rattled on while I washed. “It’s nice to finally have a man in my employment rather than the other way around. Pearl always said there isn’t much difference in becoming someone’s wife or being a whore. You either sell yourself to the one or many. At least as whores we got to keep our own money. Pearl hired a few men over the years, but mostly they were rogues. Not the types of men you’d cross the river with, that’s for sure.” I sat on the bed and bent over to unlace my boots.

  Charlie sat up and looked at me, astonished. He hopped out of bed, knelt down, and began to unlace my boots. “And you believed Pearl? She was saying all that to trick you. You poor girl, she took advantage of you, Ophelia.”

  He stopped unlacing my boot and looked up at me.

  I stared at him and tried to control my temper. “She left everything to me. Doesn’t that redeem her? Without Pearl, I wouldn’t be here about to be reunited with my brother.”

  He didn’t answer. He shook his head and went back to unlacing my boot. “Let me do this. You must be tired. I don’t treat you well just because you’re my employer. You are a fine and beautiful lady.” He stopped and stared into my eyes.

  “Charlie!” I shook my head, pulled my foot away, and began to protest. A terrible sadness came over me with the realization that after working ten years as a strumpet, I was ruined for real love. “Don’t do this. You know I’m not a lady. Don’t pretend you don’t know my past. And don’t get a notion that I’ll give you my favors. We should get a separate room.”

  He abandoned my boot and sat next to me on the bed. “That’s not the way it is. Don’t you understand? I have real feelings for you, Ophelia. In all my days, I’ve never felt this way for anyone.” He took my jaw in his hand and forced me to look at him. “It doesn’t matter what you were. That’s not what you were meant to be.” He tried to kiss me. I turned my head.

  He persisted. “Just one kiss.”

  I glanced at him. The end of his mustache had found its way into his mouth, and he was absentmindedly chewing on it—a peculiar habit for such a strong, confident man. He realized what I was looking at, stopped chewing his mustache, took his hand from my jaw, and slumped on the bed, defeated.

  I had a weakness for downtrodden men. “I’ll give you one kiss, but only if you promise to stop chewing on your mustache.”

  He ignited and took my face into his strong hands again. “A kiss is not a violin. There are no strings attached.”

  I melted under the tenderness of his touch. No one had ever held me like that. He kissed me and I felt almighty warmth. I didn’t know if I could stop the torrent of passion that coursed through our hungry bodies and the overwhelming longing, which sprang from our lonely souls.

  To my great relief and surprise, I didn’t have to. Besides the kiss and the tender removal of my boots, Charlie Sirringo was a gentleman. Being so familiar with the nature of male passion and the strong bodily urge to relieve itself, I knew the willpower Charlie must have had to exert in order to stop at one passionate kiss. He wasn’t a gentleman, and I certainly wasn’t a lady, but we both put on a good show for each other. Despite his tall tales and self-admiration, I had developed trust and fondness for the detective.

  The next day I tried to forget the strong feelings from the previous night and the passionate embrace in which we momentarily found ourselves entangled. The mission of my trip was to find my lost brother, Ezekiel, and on the cusp of that endeavor, I did not want my mind and heart clouded by a torrid love affair that could only lead to disaster, as they all had in the past.

  Charlie had been tailing Zeke long enough to know his comings and goings. Unfortunately, Zeke had noticed Charlie tailing him and had already threatened him at least once. I was glad Charlie hadn’t tried to confront Zeke.

  From a safe distance, we watched the man Charlie believed was Zeke walk into and out of various merchants, collecting for Mr. Gee’s Chinese lottery. With his head down, he focused on the lottery tickets and did not notice us watching him. I don’t know if I would ever have recognized him if Charlie hadn’t pointed him out from across the street. His black hair was longer than I remembered. He was both thicker and taller. He looked up. I gasped at his hardened scowl and the vertical scar on the right side of his face. He adorned himself with a curious mixture of Indian and Chinese talismans, but wore a white man’s jacket and a brocade vest. If I hadn’t believed he was my brother, I would never have approached him. Charlie hung back while I followed him. Two or three men loitering watched.

  “Sir. Excuse me, sir,” I called from behind him.

  “What do you want?” he yelled without looking back. He continued walking.

  I shouted, “I’m looking for my brother, Ezekiel.”

  He stopped in his tracks and turned slowly around. I noticed a strange tattoo on his neck. He looked at my hair and my face. Our eyes met, and I knew it was him.

  “I’ll be damned!” he said.

  He ran over and picked me up. My feet left the ground. We embraced for a long time. “Little O! I’ve looked for you everywhere,” he whispered into my ear. He put me down and brushed my tears away with his large rough thumb.

  A few men had gathered in front of the tobacco store. They started jeering. “Get your hands of that white lady, you red Chink!” someone shouted. Fury flashed in Zeke’s eyes. His hand rested on his gun.

  I grabbed his wrist. “Ignore them,” I pleaded.

  Charlie walked over to the group of men and appeared to be smoothing things out. Zeke stared at Charlie.

  “Who is that? Is that your husband?”

  “No. We’re just pretending he is for now so we don’t blow his cover. He’s a detective,” I whispered. “I hired him to find you.”

  “
Well, I almost shot him last week. That dang fool’s been tailing me everywhere, as if I hadn’t noticed him.”

  I almost defended Charlie and his reputation. Instead I said, “Oh, Zeke, let’s sit and have tea somewhere. We have ten years to catch up on.”

  He looked at the papers in his hand. Uncertainty crossed his face. “Of course, a quick cup,” he said. “Then I must finish these rounds, or Mr. Gee will have me roasted. I can meet you again as soon as I’m done. Then I’ll be all yours.” He smiled and laughed. “Little O! All grown up! I never thought I’d see you again.” He shoved the papers into his pocket, put his arm around me, and led me down Main Street.

  He escorted me all the way to the end of Main Street into China Town. We went into a teahouse and sat at a rickety table.

  “No one will bother us here.” He looked around and shook his head. “I’m half white. I was raised by whites. The Chinese ways are as foreign to me as feathers to a fish, but they accept me and the whites do not. Hungry ghosts, is what Mr. Gee calls them.” He motioned to an ancient Chinese woman. She nodded and brought tea.

  An old Chinese man with a long gray braid emerged from the back room and pulled a ragged curtain shut behind him. The curtain hid the opium eaters from sight, but it didn’t stop the sweetly scented smoke from filling the room. The smell reminded me of Pearl’s last days.

  I wanted to tell Zeke he looked well. But he did not. I saw behind the scar. I saw the happy handsome boy he’d once been. Other people would not see him that way.

  The familiar and somewhat deferential way they treated Ezekiel in the tea shop led me to believe he frequented the establishment. He seemed comfortable there in a way he hadn’t been on the street. Still he was unsettled, as if I was keeping him from some urgent business.

  He told me after going into hiding for a while, he tried to return to Grafton to find me, but was chased out again. He said he almost didn’t make it out alive. He said everywhere he went, he tried to find me, just in case I’d run away. He admitted that he’d finally given up. He didn’t tell me how he came by the scar on his face.

  “When I got to Silver Reef, I fell on hard times. But becoming a blackleg only made things worse. I became an opium addict. Mr. Gee helped me. If it weren’t for him, I doubt I’d be alive to see you today. I’m indebted to him.”

  I leaned across our steaming cups of tea and whispered. “Zeke, I can help. I know I don’t look it now, but I have money. Lots of money. I can pay your debts. Come home with me and start over. I own a boarding house in Ogden. I could really use a man to help.”

  He sat back and furrowed his brow. “I’m happy for you. But Ophelia, how did you come into such wealth?”

  I froze. I looked him in the eyes but could not speak the truth. “Well, it’s a long story and one I’m not too proud of. What matters is that I’ve found you, and we can be together again. You are my only family.”

  Zeke swallowed, looked at the floor, and then up at me. “The problem is I’m indebted to Gee for more than just money, Little O.”

  “Maybe, but everyone has their price.”

  “Did you marry a wealthy man?”

  “No, I’m not married.”

  The door to the teahouse opened. Charlie saw us, nodded at me, and took a seat at a small table by the front door.

  Ezekiel sighed, shook his head, and shifted in his chair. “Can we lose him now? I already have a shadow.”

  Charlie tried to act casual, but he couldn’t help constantly looking over at me. I wished he would wait outside. The kiss had changed something between us. I feared his presence would scare Zeke away. I smiled at Charlie, nodded my head a few times, gave him the okay sign with my fingers, and then jerked my head and eyes toward the door. That should have given him the clue to go away. But he stayed and stared at me with the intense, unbroken loyalty of a guard dog.

  Zeke stared daggers across the room at Charlie. I could see why Charlie thought he was formidable, and I was glad he hadn’t decided to approach him without me.

  I talked low so Charlie wouldn’t hear. “I’ll ask him to leave.”

  I got up, walked over to Charlie, and put my hand gently on his shoulder. “Thank you so much. I’m very happy. You’ve done a wonderful job. You really are the world’s best detective. We’re okay now. You can go.” My eyes motioned to the door. He made no move to go.

  “You want me to leave?” His intense brown eyes cut right through me.

  “Your presence makes Ezekiel a little nervous. I may have better luck convincing him to leave Silver Reef if I’m alone. I’ll meet you back at the hotel a little later, okay?”

  Reluctantly Charlie got up. He kept his eyes on Zeke until he was half out the door. “Be careful.” He shot me a stern look and hesitated to leave.

  “Charlie, he’s my brother,” I whispered.

  When Charlie left, the tension in the tea shop instantly diminished. I sat back down, looking forward to a nice long chat with my brother.

  He took my hands in his and looked at me. “O, I hate to leave you so soon after we’ve been reunited. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you. But I must finish some business now. After I’m done, I’ll never let you out of my sight again. I’ll be finished in two or three hours. Where can I find you?”

  “I’m staying at the Cosmopolitan Hotel. There’s a bench on the front porch. I’ll wait for you there.”

  He stood, leaned over, and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll be there.”

  “Zeke,” I looked up at him, “Can I go and see Mr. Gee? Talk to him about paying your debt?”

  “No, Ophelia, don’t do that. We’ll talk about it later. Look, I’d walk you back to your hotel, but I suspect that puppy dog of yours is waiting outside.”

  “Zeke, he’s not my pet. He’s a detective!” I grinned because we sounded like kids again.

  “Whatever you say, Little O.” He smiled, tipped his hat to me, and went out the door with a big, brotherly smirk on his face.

  THIRTY-THREE

  Charlie fell in step beside me as soon as I left the teahouse. I wanted to walk alone and relish my reunion with Ezekiel. I was overjoyed but anxious. As we walked, silence settled between Charlie and me like a thick drapery. He waited for me to say something. I said nothing. His I-told-you-so expression irritated me. Charlie couldn’t see Zeke the boy, my brother. He saw a dangerous hardened man, a half-savage criminal.

  “Well?” he finally said.

  Even though May in the desert was moister than the rest of the year, a wagon sped down the road like greased lightning and raised a thick cloud of dust. People scurried out of the way before they were killed or lost a limb. Charlie threw himself in front of me. After it had passed, he still held me protectively by the elbow. Several men hurled expletives and pumped fists at the disappearing wagon. One drunk started shooting at it, an obvious waste of lead. Charlie shook his head and handed me his hankie.

  “Thank you.” I wiped the grit from my eyes.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “About what?”

  “About him?”

  It bothered me that he didn’t call Ezekiel by name or refer to him as my brother.

  “I am right overjoyed to be reunited with my brother, Ezekiel. I owe you a world of gratitude, but I trust your compensation is adequate.” I handed him back his hankie and began fumbling with the clasp of the ruby necklace.

  He took the hankie and placed it back in his pocket, watching quietly without offering any assistance as I struggled to undo the necklace. The clasp finally came undone and I pulled the ruby necklace from my neck. I held it out to him. His face registered shock, hurt, confusion, then turned hard and stony.

  “Here are the rubies I promised.”

  Without extending a hand to take them he said, “I will see you safely back home to Ogden first.”

  I continued holding them out to him. “There is no need. I’m afraid it may take awhile before Ezekiel is able to depart.”

  Charlie shook hi
s head and protested. “I will wait with you then. I can’t leave you alone here in this town. It is only proper that I see you safely home.”

  “Proper!” I scoffed. “Charlie, please. I’m a soiled dove, a strumpet, a painted lady, a whore, a jezebel, a hooker, a harlot, a tramp . . .” A few men stopped and appeared to be listening although they pretended not to be.

  Charlie threw the onlookers an irritated glance. “Please, stop,” he said, quiet but firm.

  “Proper? Do you realize I’ve sold my every orifice to anyone willing to pay? I’ve performed every perverted, indecent sex act you can imagine and probably some you can’t. I’m probably destined to die of cupid’s curse. I—”

  “Miss Oatman! That is enough!” His explosive outburst startled me. He grabbed my elbow and led me away from the gawkers to the alley.

  I pulled my elbow from his grasp. “Yes, Detective Sirringo, it is enough. In fact it’s too much. It’s too much for you, and it’s too much for me. You have completed your assignment. Your services are no longer needed, thank you!” I held the necklace out to him one last time. He refused to take it. I threw it onto the ground next to his boot. Then I hitched my skirt, turned, and ran down the alley away from him, away from the town, away from the silver mine, and into the desert.

  The desert doesn’t offer shelter. The burning sun, the sand, the sheer openness simultaneously amplifies and reduces you. I ran and stumbled trying to find shade until my bad leg ached and, exhausted, I sat on the sand against a rock. The unbearable heat forced me to crawl between two leaning rocks into a small slice of shade. There I spent the better part of two hours crying like an abandoned baby. After my conniption fit subsided, I realized that not only had my hot-headed outburst chased away a truly good man, but also that I could be keeping company with rattlers and scorpions. I wiped the snot and sand from my face, crawled out from between the rocks, and wandered back into town.