by L. E. Waters
Savannah exclaims, “Well, have fun, girls. I have to start primping. I can’t disappoint the men.” And she leaves, Viv and Annie following.
Beth, seeming happier with Savannah gone, asks, “Are you from these parts?”
“No, I came from back east. New York actually, but I’ve been traveling around some.” All their eyes widen. I take it not many folks, let alone women, come from New York.
“What’s New York like?” Gracie asks in a quiet, polite way.
“Oh, it feels like forever since I was there. Well, the place I was born is very country-like, like this, only not so much open land between towns. More settled. I lived in the city for a time and was that a different world. A dirtier, smellier place I’ve not seen yet. Won’t go back there for the life of me.” My words fall softly in the crowded room, as they might be wondering if it couldn’t be worse than this place. “Where are you all from?” By their hesitation, it seems as if it has been a long time since they left home too.
Lottie speaks up first. “Born and raised just a little outside Kansas City.”
Beth follows, “My people came from St. Louis, moved out here before the war.”
Gracie only offers, “Tulsa.”
They all seem defeated in some way, completely different than the dancing girls. Their clothes are plain, but clean and they don’t wear much makeup compared to the other girls.
I try to cheer them up. “I think I could smell Savannah down the street. Does she fill her washbowl with perfume and throw it all over herself?”
This gets them giggling and they suddenly seem at ease with me. I talk with them for ten minutes more and tell them I have to hunt down a wig to borrow since I’ve been told I needed one. They all laugh at that too, Lottie especially, who has a rich hearty laugh. Beth has a funny way of laughing a second after everyone else starts, and she throws her head back and opens her mouth wide, a little reminiscent of a mule braying. When I get back to my room, a wig is already waiting for me on my bed and it smells of talcum powder. I put the curly, light brown wig on my head and can’t believe I went from donning army wool and rifle to this. I laugh out loud.
I walk downstairs and I’m glad to see the saloon is still empty since it’s mid-noon. I see the small stage constructed for the dancers, decorated with plush burgundy curtains draped with gold tassels. My stomach lurches at the thought that I’ll be dancing on this stage by nightfall. I walk out the back door behind the stage and I’m pleasantly surprised by a pigeon coop in the middle of an herb and wildflower garden. I would have never guessed Molly to have a soft side for nature. She seemed as though she lived and breathed the saloon. I try to imagine her in garden gear, tending her flowers and birds, but the idea seems too silly. I peer through the wire to get a better look at the thirteen little cooing birds, all ranging from dove white to purple-grey. It makes me feel better to think, no matter how bad things might get these next few months, I’ll always be able to come out here and listen to these birds. I put my hand in and a pure-white pigeon with golden eyes, smaller than all the rest, steps onto my hand without hesitation and I make a mental note to save some of my supper to bring to him tonight.
Annie interrupts my moment of peace. “Oh, I was looking for you everywhere. Molly wants me to teach you the dance we’re doing tonight.” I nod and shake the pigeon off my hand and close the aviary. The saloon is so dark inside, due to the shutters being closed, that it takes a minute for my sight to return. My vision returns to see Clem smiling at me from the piano, waiting for Annie to tell him to begin. Annie stands in the middle of the stage in an outfit I can’t believe she wears outside her bedroom. She has a black corset tied so tight it forces out almost every bit of soft flesh. She has bare arms and a ruffled skirt that falls scandalously to her knees. I had no idea we would be wearing our underwear for these dances. My mouth drops open and I don’t close it again until the dance is over.
“This here is Savannah’s spot because she’s our best dancer, but I think it’s okay to take her place to teach you,” Annie says, like she needs some excuse for it. I’m already getting sick of Savannah’s hold here.
Annie starts. “On three, Clem. One, two, three.” And then she begins. The dance is an assortment of four moves: shaking her skirt up even higher than her knees; shaking her shoulders back and forth, causing her spilling bosom to jiggle back and forth; turning around and shaking her rear; and—to my horror—a quick lift of her skirt to show her pantaloons. This is not dancing. At least none that I’d ever seen. I had no idea I was going to have to make a fool of myself in this way. I can’t say a word the whole time Annie instructs me. Every word makes it harder and harder to squelch my nausea.
“It’s really very simple, but the most important thing is the way you do it and you have to try to smile at each different man that’s watching you. You know, making them all feel special. Sometimes I do a special shake right toward a certain man and that almost guarantees attention from him when the dance is over. Now Savannah is the best at putting it all on for the boys. I wish I had her talent,” she says dreamily, but perks back up as she thinks of something more. “Don’t be upset if after all your dancing the men just flock around her. We’re all used to that. Just try to make one man happy in the group. Now why don’t you give it a try?”
I get up on stage, happily in my dress that covers all my parts, and feel so foolish copying what she just showed me. Thankfully, Clem keeps his eyes on the keys, even though red splotches appear on his face out of embarrassment for me.
Annie tries to be reassuring. “You did a bang-up job for your first time. You sure got the sequence right. The only thing is that you didn’t smile one bit and you looked at your feet the whole time. Also when you shake, you really got shake all ya got and make sure you pull up that skirt to show the whole caboodle. Make sure to play to the gallery.” Her smile has so much faith in me. “How ‘bout one more time?”
This time I try my best and shake so hard my wig slips off. I even throw my skirt over my head, but I just can’t make myself look out and smile.
“Okay, Hun. I think that’s good for tonight. I have to go get supper and get ready. You better go get fixed up too,” she says, with her eyes paying special attention to my wig-less hair again.
We have supper all together on a long table outside under a tree behind the saloon. The highlight of the night is when Gracie pulls herself out from under the picnic table, steps on her dress and falls over with a thud. Everyone starts laughing and Gracie gets so angry she yells, “Stop laughing. That really hurt.” As she wipes dirt off the back of her good dress, I realize it’s a cruel joke to call her Gracie.
It’s so different talking with girls again. I’m quiet as they talk because I’m feeling uneasy about dancing later that night. When I get back to my room, I see the identical outfit Annie was wearing before lying across my bed. It’s a little loose in places but I know in my condition that will work out to my advantage as I grow. I fix the wig on my head with pins and shake around to be sure it won’t fall off while I’m dancing. Molly slips into my room so quietly that I scream when I turn to see her. How can someone so large move so stealthily?
“Sorry to startle ya, darlin’.” Then she lets out a long, slow whistle as she turns me around. “Ya really cut a swell in that dancing costume.” I can see that with my pregnancy my breasts have swelled to three times what they were before and my normally skinny figure is filling out healthily since getting proper meals again.
“Molly brought ya a little stage makeup to put ya in apple pie order.” And no sooner does she say this before she’s rubbing, brushing and blowing powder on my face. With a cough, she fans her hand in the dust cloud she created. “Now, go have a hog killin’ time.”
I hear the men getting rowdy below and my stomach turns as the girls all come out in their glory and line up on the balcony. Savannah, Viv and Annie all lean over the banister, waving at the men and blowing kisses. I know I’m standing there awkwa
rdly and feel panic coming on. I’m going into battle again for the first time, but without the comfort of Elijah, Jessie, and James. Without my gun, without even the second skin of thick wool of my uniform. I turn to run back into my room and just make it in time to vomit in my washbasin.
The music starts up as Molly pulls me by my corset and spins me around out into the hallway, giving me a swift kick to my rear. I wipe my mouth as I start down the stairs after the three other girls and miserably try to copy the way they saunter down the stairs. Everything is a blur once I get on the stage and I disappear into the haze of lights, loud music and hoots and hollers. I focus on my feet and try not to fall or bump into the other girls, but I honestly don’t know how much shaking or lifting I do. When it’s over, I practically run down the steps off the stage to find safety on a stool at the bar, while I notice hordes of men circle Savannah and a few stragglers give attention to Viv and Annie.
Savannah feasts off this attention like a parasite. I look up to a squeak on the balcony to see Lottie, Beth and Gracie smiling down and giving me quiet thumbs’ up. Maybe I’ll make it just yet.
Chapter 15
Days go by and things get easier. I get less and less nervous with each performance and I send away for two new dresses and some of my own make-up—though it will take weeks to get it in the mail. My favorite part of the job is the partner dancing. After the stage dance we rush up to change into fancy dresses and we dance the rest of the night away with many different fellas. They hand us their money and then they spin us around the room. For a moment, it feels like you’re just a regular girl out at a barn dance and I even close my eyes and pretend I’m dancing with James. One of the men I dance with gives me my show name, Rosie Josie, since whenever I get up to perform they say I turn absolutely red.
It’s a Sunday and all us girls relax in Annie’s larger room, when we’re called down by Molly’s shrill voice. At the bottom of the stairs stands one very well-dressed man with a gang of five men behind him. He watches us walk down the stairs and, without a word, struts over to the bar and orders a round for himself and his boys. He swallows his whiskey and fails to pay. My eyes dart to Molly, expecting to see her release her wrath, but she only gives him a sugared smile as she wrings her empty hands. What power does he hold over her?
“Girls,” she says, in a sickeningly sweet tone that I’ve never heard Molly use before. “Mr. Lucian came to pay us a visit.” Suddenly all the girls are puttin’ on for him. Beth is almost laughable as she stands with one arm behind her back, jabbed into the fleshy space above her large derriere. This stance causes her chest to protrude, yet it’s all made awkward by the way she keeps raising and lowering her feet. It causes her to bob up and down in a rather odd way, like a seductive chicken. Every time this movement catches Lucian’s gaze she rolls her eyes back in her head and opens her mouth, moving her chin this way and that in her luring attempt. Lucian quickly looks away every time but it’s hard to avoid.
Savannah just stands there to the side, fanning herself, while the other girls bat their eyes at him. I look down, getting a bad feeling that this is something I don’t want to be picked for.
Mr. Lucian turns to Molly. “I hear you got a fresh one?”
Molly nods with a worried glance toward me.
“Is this the one?” He just nods his head in my direction, while fixing his brownish-green eyes on me.
Molly says, with hesitation, “Yeah, she’s our new girl.”
He walks over, right in front of me, inspecting me. “She used?”
“Virgin new,” Molly lies. He points up the stairs to me and then turns to go back to the bar for another drink. While his back is turned, I shake my head to Molly, but she grits her teeth and waves her strong arm toward the stairs. Again I shake my head no.
Molly pounces on me, dragging me behind the stage curtain and whispers sharply, “This here’s one of the burg’s big bugs. Ya ain’t got no choice in this matter or we’ll all be out of business or locked in the calaboose.”
Molly peers around the curtain back to Mr. Lucian and says, “Oh, the sweet little shave tail needs a little instruction. Ya just wait there.” She grabs me by the arm, yanks me begrudgingly up the stairs and shoves me into my room. I catch Lucian’s face as I’m being prodded and, by his dimpled grin, he appears to enjoy my distress.
“Pull yerself together and I’ll be right back.” Molly’s face is red from all the exertion.
I sit on my bed for five minutes, trying to decide if I should just run down the back stairs.
Molly comes back up with a small parcel in her hand. She places it on my washstand. “This here is what’s going to convince Mr. Lucian of yer Mother Mary purity.” She says plain as day, “Don’t think too hard about it. Put it in yer nethers then he’ll think he picked your cherry.”
I stare, wondering what could possibly be in that parcel.
“Just be sure to remove it after all’s said and done and clean up good.”
“I can’t do this.”
I don’t want her to leave and she senses me stalling.
She says, as she’s going out the door, “Ya’ll be fine as cream gravy, dear.”
As I unwrap the little parcel to reveal the little blood filled organ, I immediately understand why she has the aviary of pigeons by the back door. All my thoughts fly to that poor sweet white one. I choke back my lunch and decide this is something I have to do. I don’t have any other choice. Only a few more months here and I will buy my own little place to have my baby in. I do what Molly instructed just in time before the door slowly opens. I turn and look out the window, not wanting to see him enter. I hear him fidget with some articles of clothing and he then comes up behind me and presses himself against me, rubbing right to left with threatening intent.
He whispers in my ear, “Come on, sugar. You just might enjoy it.” He begins unlacing my corset from behind, whistling something eerily childish. I just focus through the slightly-opened shutter on a mother walking with her little boy into the general store. Lucian shimmies my dress down off my shoulder and gives a “Yee haw” when my breasts and knickers are exposed.
The mother sweeps the little boy into the shop and closes the door as Lucian slips my knickers down. I can barely step out of them before his hands are all over me. I’d never felt so inspected, not even during the two doctors’ examinations after Andersonville. His breathing increases and he presses against me and leans me onto the bed. His mouth leaves wet trails from my neck down my belly. The bile rises in my throat as I fight the morning sickness he has brought on with his spicy smell. He flips me over with urgent hands and takes me aggressively from behind.
Finding what satisfies him, he slaps my hindquarters, pronouncing, with a heavy breath, “Good girl,” and then walks over to spit into my washbowl. I pull my sheets up and turn to look at the flowered wallpaper as he gets dressed and leaves. I hear his boys downstairs whistle and cheer him on and I finally give up my lunch into my chamber pot.
Later, when I pull myself together—and wash and wash and wash—I venture out into the hall. The girls are gathered in Savannah’s room. I lean against the doorframe and there, on the bed, sits Savannah with Viv and Annie. Gracie and Lottie stand by the window and Beth leans uncomfortably against the wall. Annie hops up and gives me a hug, which, although it’s sweet, just makes me feel like a pity case. Savannah starts an evil giggle that rolls and rolls and ends with her having to pinch her legs together like she’s going to wet herself. Then, through her giggling, she starts saying, “Yee haw! Giddy up girl!” as she thrusts her hips dramatically.
The girls break out into a frenzy of different laughs and Annie says, in her best Lucian impression, “Ain’t you just the Simon Pure!”
Viv stands up and acts out a scene where he holds himself and says, “Lookie here. This is what a real man looks like.”
Savannah even has to put her hand between her legs to contain herself with the crescendo of laughing. I quickl
y gather that all of these girls, at one time or another, have entertained Mr. Lucian and they all appeared to have the same experience. I’m not as victimized, but more initiated. It releases the terrible feeling and I start to laugh with them.
“Lucian’s not as bad as Sweaty Stan. When he’s through it looks like I just jumped in a lake. My sheets are drenched through to the ticking,” Lottie says with a whispered ending to show how much it bothers her.
“Oh, no. Popping Pete’s worse. He loses wind every time he trusts. Yuck,” Annie says with a shiver.
Savannah beams. “Okay everyone, guess this John. ‘Who’s my doggie, who’s my dirty dog? Bark like a dog, whore. Bark!”
They all say, in unison, “Doggie Dan.”
“And he even wraps a belt around your neck like a collar and pulls it from behind like a leash!” As Gracie says this she grabs her neck, as though she can still feel it.
Beth then straightens up. “You girls know I have it the worse. I get all the guys that Molly won’t send you in with: all the cowboys after the drive, the strangers Molly’s not sure of yet and the old men that take forever! I even get the filthy, lousy soldiers that have to practically cut their clothes off.”
An awkwardness sets suddenly, due to the social disparity between Beth and the rest.
Annie chimes in immediately, “Anyone want to see the wig I just bought from New York?”
Everyone is happy for the diversion.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
I head down to the garden for a much-needed breath of fresh air. The refreshing purples, blues, and white cool down the hot summer day. I’m afraid to look into the pigeon coop to see the smallest pigeon missing. I avoid it for as long as I can but, once I press my nose to the chicken wire, the little white pigeon struts down the perch to dance for me.
I pull out the roll I saved from lunch and tear small pieces to place on my hand. As soon as I reach into the coop, he flies to my hand to gobble up the crumbs.
