by L. E. Waters
“Ya can take him out if ya want.” Molly startles me.
“He won’t fly away?”
She laughs. “If they do they always come back. Unless the hawks get them, but I don’t see any around today.”
I squint up, just to be sure, and, seeing the blue sky clear, I pull the pigeon out and close the little door. The pigeon flaps off to the ground and struts around in half circles. “I was worried you sacrificed this one.”
“If ya’ve taken a liking to this runt, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” She clucks and the bird flies up to her outstretched hand. “This one would make a nice pet.” Molly raises her hand quickly and the pigeon takes flight high into the air.
He flaps around in circles and I cluck like Molly and he flies back to gently land on my hand. I look to Molly but she must have gone back inside without a sound.
“I think I’ll name you Pip Squeak.” I tickle the feathers around his neck and he coos back happily. Silly how much comfort a little creature can give.
Chapter 16
The music begins and all the girls kick up their heels and smile away. I try to focus on the ceiling and concentrate on every step. I follow the other girls in front of me, prancing and flashing their lacey pantaloons as the men hoot and whistle below. Something catches my eye at the front of the saloon. The door opens and a familiar form walks in. He has a slight limp and his presence makes all the men around him take notice. He orders a whisky from the bar and comes up to watch us dance. He seems to be studying me with a puzzled look. I can’t believe he’s here. I look away and go back to concentrating on not falling on my face. I wonder if he recognizes me and, when I check down, he’s grinning from ear to ear. Jessie’s eyes sparkle just like I remember as he gives a playful wave.
As soon as I finish, I hurry over to him at the bar. He scans my silk ruffled dress, spilling cleavage, and ringlet wig stuffed with various feathers and says, “Now you’ve got a story worth listening to.”
Jessie walks over to Molly, who’s pampering a wealthier patron, and says something to her that has her looking over at me approvingly. He hands her money upfront, which makes her pasty skin blush. Jessie tips his hat to me, takes me by the arm and escorts me up to my room.
There’s only the bed in the room and he shows no hesitation hopping on it and patting the space next to him for me to sit. I’m comfortable right away with him.
“How did you recognize me?”
“I’m just that sharp. Can’t get one over me. I knew all along.” He lies back, stretched out on the bed, and crosses his legs.
I search back to how he could have known the whole time, but he leans forward and shakes the wig on my head. “Naw. I didn’t have a clue. You know John, the soldier with the chipped front tooth?”
I nod.
“Well, I wrote to him a month ago, he told me you and James were taken prisoner and had heard a rumor that you had been…umm…discovered.”
He leans in and starts removing the pins from my wig, then lifts it off my head, putting it down on the dresser like it’s a dead animal. “I like you better this way.” He ruffles my shaggy hair up.
“What are they saying?”
“You’re talk of the 149th now. You’re famous! But only within the 149th, since no one wants it to get out we’ve got women fighting with us, you understand,” he says, with a wink. “I was headed out here anyway and James asked you to come out here with us. So, just on chance, I thought what the heck? Might as well ask about Joe. I asked the inn keeper’s wife if she’d seen a young girl from New York around these parts and she just pointed—with a grimace I might add—in this direction.”
I tell him how Elijah and I were orphaned and how we thought it would only take a few months to save up enough to for me to go home. I tell him how I couldn’t leave Elijah and when Elijah died I didn’t care about anything anymore. All the while Jessie sits surprisingly attentive, fiddling with a ribbon I left on the bed. I fill him in on what happened since he was gone and about how we were taken prisoner.
“James turned me in at Andersonville.”
Jessie looks up slyly from under the brim of his hat and asks, “And how, pray tell, did James find out?”
I change subjects. “The only place I could think about going was here and I was hoping James would soon be here too.”
“How did I miss this?” He points in the bosom area and I draw up my pillow to hide. “You even slept right next to me! I just thought you were one puny looking boy but, boy or girl, you’re someone to ride the river with for damn sure.”
His indigo eyes twinkle brilliantly and I almost cry.
“Well,” he says with a sigh, relieving the sentimental thickness in the room. “After I got shot they sent me to mend for a month in Tennessee while you all moved on without me. My hip healed mighty fast but left me with this gimpy walk. Yet I can still run faster than any Butternut.” He looks upset at this point but takes a deep breath. “So I was sent to the Invalid Corp”—which he pronounces slowly so the name stands out the way it is supposed to—”which was two heaps of fun.” He sighs over his right shoulder and continues. “So I took French leave and scampered off here to set up house for when James strolls in. Little did I expect to get to see little Joe here, dancing in a bawdy house in his skivvies!” He starts laughing and can’t stop. “What’s your real name?”
‘“Josephine, but I prefer Jo now.” Then we just look at each other in silence, marveling at what our life has become now. “Did they ever get that flag away from you?”
“What flag? You mean this one?” He casually pulls the blue and white battle flag out like a handkerchief and twirls it over his head saying, “Huzzia! Huzzia!”
We can’t control our laughter.
After he catches a breath, he says, “This the only work you could find?”
“Well, it’s complicated.”
I see him wondering what I mean by this but, to my relief, he lets it drop.
“You know, you’re not going to find a man now that you do this? Actually”—he snickers—”you might never find a man after he knows you were shootin’ Rebs like tin cans!”
Even though he means it in fun, it strikes a key with me. It’s the truth.
I change the subject. “What are you going to do now that you’re here?”
“Well, when I walked in, your Madame asked me if I had any good fight in me yet and I told her I’m pure fight. She offered me a job as a bouncer here.” He gets up, opens the door and tips his hat. “So you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.”
Jessie closes the door with a smile. The sunshine comes out once again.
Chapter 17
Of course, all the girls swoon over Jessie and I gain respect even from Savannah for the attention he gives me. Jessie’s always visiting in my room, we eat our meals together and go on walks to the fields outside town. Molly’s always making sure to tell Jessie that there are no perks for help and that we better not be holding out on her. But I think even she can see that we’re only good friends. Jessie buys a newspaper every week and we sit by the spring and read it aloud to each other. We’re especially interested in the articles concerning the war. The war is winding down with a Union victory with the 149th and Sherman leading the way. We pray daily that they’ll announce the end of the war. Any day now I could see news that Andersonville was captured and all the prisoners were granted leave. I even look for James walking into town and I’m sad every week that he’s not there.
We’re just coming from a walk when there’s a fuss on the balcony. Savannah’s throwing a tantrum of all tantrums.
“Absolutely not, Molly!” She’s frantically pointing her finger at the Madame. “You just got a new girl and we’ve more than enough girls here!”
Molly tries to remain calm. “This girl’s too much to pass up. She’s danced at Magdalene’s and the Prairie Nymph for heaven sake!”
Savannah fumes with exaggerated pronouncement, “If you
bring her in, I’ll leave and I know my customers will go with me.” She delivers this ultimatum with her chin held high.
Molly doesn’t look like she’s enjoying this and shakes her head at the floor. “Pull in yer horns, Savannah. Of course I want ya to stay and I think with the way this city’s growin’ we’ll have men to go around, but if yer askin’ me to ignore the heap of money this girl’s gonna bring in then ya’d better shin out.” She turns her back and walks to her room. Savannah stomps down to the bar to grab a bottle and runs back up to her room. Her door slams, rattling the frame of the saloon.
Jessie and I drift into Annie’s room, where she fills us in on what happened. “Molly just informed us that she’s hired a new dancer that draws men from miles and miles away. She’s both young and beautiful and Molly’s put a pretty penny down to get her to come out here. She’ll be here sometime today.” Annie checks out the open door in the direction of Savannah’s room. “I’ve never seen Savannah like this. I think she’s going to really leave.”
The arrival of Violet Belle is quite a scene. A lavish coach drawn by four white stallions pulls up to the saloon. The coachman, dressed in finery, pulls out a padded stepstool and opens the gilded door. A gloved hand extends out with such grace, but that is nothing compared to the fluid movement her whole body makes as she glides down the steps. Her dress is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. It’s riddled in ruffles, silks and lace, and of the palest blue that contrasts her dark hair and large honey eyes, which peer up from under the lace of her matching feathered hat.
She takes a moment to pull her gloves tight and rearrange her skirts, then, without even looking at all who have gathered to see her entrance, she floats into the saloon with a single motion of her hand to have the coachman bring in trunks and hatboxes, which there are plenty of. I can tell by the look on Jessie’s face as she walks by him that he’s taken by her. I think any man would be. I look up at a movement at one of the windows—Savannah’s window. The curtains swoosh closed. I actually feel bad for her now. Men in the street whistle after Violet vanishes and I can tell we’re going to have a busy night.
Molly comes into my room, practically wringing her hands in anticipation of all the money she’ll be holding at the end of the night. “Listen, Hun. Ya girls aren’t gonna be dancin’ tonight. It’s Violet Belle’s début so just put on yer nicest dress and watch the show.” As she walks back out to spread the word, she throws back, “And it wouldn’t hurt to pick up a few pointers.”
The place is packed tighter than a tin can. All us girls have to watch from the balcony since there isn’t even standing room below. Savannah doesn’t leave as she’s promised but hasn’t been seen since the fight. Jessie’s working hard breaking up fights, punching, kicking, even pistol whipping, trying to get some control. From above it looks and sounds like a disturbed beehive. I think this might have been the most exciting thing to happen to Kansas City since the skirmishers came through. Molly ventures out to say a few words, not missing an opportunity to improve business, but even her booming voice can’t stand against the mob’s anticipation. They just start chanting, “Violet Belle! Violet Belle! Violet Belle!” So a slightly embarrassed Molly cues Clem, who darts from behind the bar to start a tune I’ve never heard before.
As everyone waits for her to walk down the stairs, the crowd gasps when a stockinged leg appears from behind the curtain on the stage. As soon as the leg extends out it disappears, to reappear in the same manner in the other direction. Then a sheer-gloved hand points out either side and even beckons those watching to come to her. Unexpectedly, the curtains are drawn just enough to reveal a beautifully shaped pair of legs, bare up to mid-thigh. Every man holds his breath. She switches her legs rhythmically back and forth and then closes the curtain. The music builds up to a crescendo where she bursts through the curtains and everyone sucks in air at the same time. Then the men whistle and hoot, as I’ve never heard before, as they take in what she’s wearing, or not wearing. She’s dressed like nothing we’d ever seen before. She has on a small corset that covers her breasts but reveals her stomach. A silk skirt is pulled up seductively into a gold beaded belt, revealing her legs to mid-thigh. Every time she moves, a different part of her thighs can be seen. The men stand mesmerized as she spins around, desperately trying to focus on what she hides underneath, yet only getting glimpses of bits and pieces. Her body moves and gyrates to the notes. She seems inhuman and wildly primitive. She hypnotizes everyone to the point where no one even notices when it stops. As soon as the music ends, she runs off stage. The men look around like the wood sprite they had happened upon vanished before their eyes.
“Violet Belle! Violet Belle! Violet Belle!” begins again, this time with hunger, and Molly returns to tell everyone, “Now, boys, Violet Belle’s only a dancer and not contracted to entertain further.”
A booming ‘boo’ rolls out among the crowd and Molly waves at us furiously to come down to try to fill in for her absence. We start down the stairs, feeling like hay thrown to lions, and we take shelter back upstairs as soon as some of the men throw their drinks at us. Jessie and Clem try to calm everyone down, but Violet has caused a feeding frenzy. Molly shouts to us, “Night’s over, girls! Stay in your rooms.”
When I get back in my room, I’m surprised to see Violet looking out the window. I make a movement to walk back out, wondering if Molly has given her choice of my room, but Violet turns and says, “No, come back.”
I come back in and she sits down on my bed. She half smiles. “That always happens the first night I dance. It won’t be as bad next time.”
She’s already covered up in a loose robe.
“You were fantastic,” I say, not even able to look in her face.
“Thanks,” she says, like she’s heard that hundreds of times before and is sick of it. I guess she isn’t like Savannah after all.
“How did you learn to dance like that?” I know as soon as I ask it that she doesn’t want to talk about it. She shrugs. I try to think of a question that she would want to answer. “Do you need any help unpacking?” I say, thinking of all of the suitcases I saw unloaded. Her face brightens and she throws the hood of her robe over her head and I follow her out amidst the mob scene still continuing below. Suddenly I worry about Jessie getting hurt but I don’t have much time to think on it when she opens her room. She’s already started to unpack and every molding in the room supports dress after beautiful dress. She has hat boxes piled up to the ceiling in the corner. Molly has given Violet her room, which is the largest and has two windows and a giant mirrored armoire. I go around touching each one, practically drooling at every detail. How can someone seem so unhappy when they have a room that looks like this?
She unbuckles a suitcase and I head over to help her refold her gorgeous clothes. One of my hands finds some small trinket. I lift it up and it spins in the light. Once it stops, I see an engraved silver locket. I think of my silver heart buried with Ma and my hand rests on my collar bone where it should be. She takes her locket gently and sits on the bed with it. I walk over as she opens it and I see exactly where she got her charms. Inside is another dark-eyed, dark-haired beauty and she wipes a tear away. “It’s all I have left of my mom.”
“She’s so beautiful.”
Violet nods. “She was a dancing girl and had me when she was very young. I never knew who my father was, but my mother did everything she could to give me everything I needed. She always bought me beautiful things and put my hair up in ribbons.” She pulls up the hair off her forehead to reveal a small scar before it flops back down into place. “She was always with me, except when she danced or entertained, and I would watch from a hiding spot to learn how she danced. She was called the Mexican Rose. I never had friends or was able to go to school, so most of the time I just danced out in the desert.” She turns to look at the window. “She died from influenza when I was twelve.”
“My family’s all gone too.”
She reaches over to hug
me and it feels like we’ve been friends for years. I’ve finished helping her put everything away when Molly calls the girls down again. It seems most of the rowdy men have given up and left, while the men who stay are willing to settle for our attention. More men than usual want to visit the upstairs girls that night, which makes Molly’s mouth water. She has never seen so much business in one night. Violet is her cash cow now.
Chapter 18
Viv spies Savannah the next morning, but reports she’s in the same clothes she wore the day before and looks unusually disheveled. She apparently walked downstairs to get another bottle from the bar and sat at a table in the saloon to empty it. We try our best to avoid her, since she even seems to be talking to herself. When Jessie finds me for our usual walk, I ask him if I can invite Violet and his broad grin more than answers my question. Violet’s so glad to come and we explore around the farmland like puppies. The saloon is already filling up when we get back and Violet hurries to get ready for her show. I change and Jessie starts managing the audience. Savannah is still in her seat in the corner with what I’m guessing to be her second bottle. The rest of the girls stand again on the second level waiting for the next show.
The music begins and this time the curtains open to Violet in her robe with her hood down. All the men boo at the fact that she’s so covered. She slowly starts to dance and every once in a while exposes a different part of her body, until she drops her whole robe when the music peaks and the house goes crazy. She has on the most beautiful lace stockings, with ruffled knickers and matching ruffled corset. A scandalous Bo-peep. She then rolls into a beautiful dance but, this time, when the music stops and she moves to dash off the stage, Jessie picks up a harmonica and starts one of his jigs. All the men turn to see Jessie hop, limp-free, on top of the bar in a jubilant dance.
Violet’s eyes light up upon seeing him steal the show like that and Clem takes up the tune on the piano, which frees Jessie to break out his singing voice and get everyone in a happy mood. Even Savannah staggers up to perform a dazed jig in the corner. Jessie then leaps off the bar to land on his good leg and, in one more bound, is up on the stage with Violet. Jessie stamps out a jig sequence that ends in a way that begs her to copy him. She repeats it effortlessly. Then she creates a sequence that challenges him and he, amazingly, gets every step right. As everyone cheers, Jessie takes Violet in his arms and spins her around the stage in a jig that gets the whole saloon jigging, man with man. I even turn to Gracie to dance with me on the balcony and the other girls follow. Violet chooses to stay the rest of the night downstairs—which later I find out she has never done before—but Jessie never leaves her side and she feels safe with him.
