by Ryan Scott
Chapter 24
With Violet’s help, Ella found a house in Sebastopol John could afford next to the Methodist Church. It was in walking distance to John’s work and Tommy’s school so she decided to rent it without consulting John.
The next weekend, they moved into the new home with a few pieces of tattered furniture supplemented with boxes and orange crates, but the house still echoed.
John sarcastically asked, "OK, Ella, are you finally satisfied? It’s costing me three dollars a month more."
"Yes, John, I love this place. We’re finally away from all that damn fog, and the kids already seem better. I don’t mind the lack of furniture, but that ice box leaks, and the damn scrub-board kills my back."
Six weeks later, a letter arrived from John’s sister. He read, "Dear John, I regret to tell you that our father has died from pneumonia. As you know, he owned an old Victorian apartment building in San Francisco for which a sale is pending. In the meantime, you can take whatever furniture from it you choose."
On the following Saturday, John, Ella and the boys crowded into the cab of the truck John had rented and began the trip to San Francisco. After crossing the newly opened Golden Gate Bridge, they entered the "big city" and went to a run-down section of town. John parked by an old apartment building and said, "Well, this is the place, but it looks a little shabby."
Ella replied, "What a dump. I wonder if the stuff in there is even worth taking."
After she had looked at all the furniture, she selected a round oak table with six chairs, a curved-glass china cabinet, an old Victrola, a grandfather clock, a roll top desk, a mohair sofa, three Victorian chairs, bedroom sets, Persian carpets, velvet drapes, beaded lamps, and assorted side tables.
Several days later, John received a check for the sale of his father’s apartment. He surprised Ella with a Montgomery Ward refrigerator and wringer washing machine.
"Oh, John, these things are wonderful. Now washing the clothes will be a breeze, and I can make homemade popsicles for the boys," she said, giving him a hug.
When Violet dropped in for a visit, she clapped her hands, saying, "Oh Ella, your house looks terrific! I’ve always loved Victorian furniture, especially that old Victrola. Would you mind if I play it?"
After Ella said she wouldn’t mind, Violet looked at the collection of dusty records and played the, "Fire Ant Blues."
With ragtime music resounding in the background, they sat on the wingback chairs and drank coffee. "Ella, your place is so cozy."
"Thank you Violet, I know this stuff is old and faded, but they turned this house into a real home; and best of all, the echoes are gone."
Violet laughed. "It’s certainly important to remove echoes. Ella, I've got a proposition. Both of us are eligible for the "Native Daughters of the Golden West." Let’s join. They meet once a month and I heard it's a lot of fun."
Ella hesitated. "Well, I'm not sure about that; maybe I wouldn't fit in with all those educated ladies."
"Of course you would fit in!" You're as good as anyone else!" Violet shouted.
Ella remembered her resolve on top of the mountain to stretch her wings. "You're right Violet! By God, I am just as good as anyone else. Let’s join that lodge!
“Great! I’ll help you buy ten yards of golden colored material for the required formal gown.
When Ella received a letter from Martha, she opened it with her heart pounding. She read, "Hi Ella, Just a quick note. I recently saw Baxter. He said to tell you he can't get you out of his thoughts..."
Ella read the letter several times and put it in the back of the roll top desk, feeling guilty for thinking about the man with haunting green eyes. She also felt guilty about the three letters she had written but discarded. She especially felt guilty when she thought about Baxter’s golden body whenever John, panting and sweating, pounded her into the mattress.
