The River Palace: A Water Wheel Novel #3

by Gilbert, Morris

  “Unfortunately not,” Dauterive replied, “and now I’ll have to go to confession for saying that, and thinking it, and feeling it. Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Kennon? Anything you need?”

  “No, thank you, sir.” They shook hands again and Dauterive left.

  Gage resumed his pacing. A chair had been set out in the hallway by Yargee’s stateroom door, but Gage couldn’t keep still. Passengers came and went, and he had met most of them and knew them by name, but he didn’t speak to anyone. Sometimes they came toward him with a smile, but the smiles faded when they saw his grim face. He was dressed in black trousers and a plain white shirt, but he was wearing his gunbelt with both Colts at his sides. Passersby gave him a wide berth as he paced up and down.

  I should have asked Niçu to come at least let me know how she’s doing, he fretted. Niçu has no idea how I feel about her, how this whole thing is like a waking nightmare to me . . . we’re all friends, of course, but Niçu doesn’t know how much I love her . . .

  The thought brought him to an abrupt standstill in his pacing. I do love Nadyha. All those other things, all that jealousy and desire and passion I’ve felt, they’re nothing to me now. All I want is for her to be well, to be happy, to be free from fear . . . even if it’s without me.

  He started pacing again, more slowly.

  Vaguely he became aware of the boat moving again, and he heard three triumphant short blasts on the steam whistle. About half an hour later Denny came down. Without preamble he said, “It seems like, from what I’m getting that Baba Simza told Niçu, that she’s kinda in shock. They tried giving her some brandy, but just as they lifted the glass to her face she got really sick. She said it smelled like him,” Denny said with his fine lips curling. “So I got some laudanum and sent it up, and Niçu said she’s gone to sleep.”

  “I guess that’s the best thing right now,” Gage said. “Nadyha”—he swallowed hard before he was able to continue—“Nadyha’s strong, but this would make any woman suffer terribly.”

  “I know,” Denny said helplessly. “Uncle Zeke and I have told them that we’ll send them right back to New Orleans by train if they want, or we’ll put them up in the St. Louis Royal Hotel, or we’ll do anything, anything . . .”

  “Are they going to leave?” Gage asked sharply.

  Denny shook his head. “Baba Simza says not, she thinks it would be better for them to stay on board the Queen, instead of racketing around on a train for three days or staying in some stupid gaje hotel that might not have running water. But she did say she’s going to ask Nadyha what she wants to do, in the morning.”

  Gage was vastly relieved; he knew that Nadyha would trust her grandmother’s choices. “They’ll stay, thank the Lord. We can—they’re safer here.”

  “Uncle Zeke is in the most tearing rage I’ve ever seen,” Denny said with heat. “And for that matter, so am I. This should never, never have happened on board this boat. We’ve worked hard to make it safe and secure for our passengers, and for our ladies, yes, even the third-class ladies that manage to make enough in some fancy New Orleans brothel to take a trip on the Queen of Bohemia, like those two silly girls Susanna Melton and Fanny Griffiths.” Denny knew almost every passenger, even those in third class, by name.

  He continued, “Even people who look down on Gypsies would be outraged. But listen, Gage, my uncle and I and Captain Humphries have decided not to tell anyone what’s happened. Not because we’re worried about the boat’s reputation! But because we just don’t want Nadyha to be bothered. Even Captain Humphries agrees with that. The old buzzard’s kinda gotten to admire her.”

  “Who doesn’t?” Gage said, his spirits lifting a little. “I agree, too, I’d hate to think of all the gossip about her. The only thing is, I wish Niçu would understand that I need to know about her, how she’s doing, if she needs anything, and so on.”

  Denny’s brown eyes glinted. “Yeah, Niçu’s kinda blank on you and Nadyha. Oh, don’t look so outraged, we both know exactly what I’m talking about. And I’ve got some pretty good news for you, buddy. The Guidrys are disembarking at St. Louis.”

  “Who are the Guidrys, and why should I care?”

  “The Guidrys,” Denny said with relish, “occupy the stateroom right next to Nadyha’s. And it’s not booked on the return trip.”

  Gage managed a small lopsided smile. “Oh, yeah? Well, now it is.”

  THE QUEEN OF BOHEMIA steamed into St. Louis, majestically as always, half an hour past midnight. For the rest of the night and the next day, Gage and Denny were very busy.

  They and Captain Humphries and Zedekiah Wainwright went to the harbormaster and explained that they had three criminals on board the ship that they wished to be arrested and taken to the St. Louis jail. Unfortunately, one of those prisoners would need an ambulance to take him first to Charity Hospital for emergency surgery, and if he lived, then he would certainly be sent to jail. The harbormaster promptly sent two stout men of the harbor watch back with them, and assured them that he’d send deputies and arrange for an ambulance.

  After conferring, Captain Humphries, Gage, and Denny and his uncle had decided not to have Yargee charged with attempted rape, because in that case Nadyha would have to go to the sheriff’s office to make a statement. They decided that it would be best if she could be completely left out of it. And so Gage Kennon made a complaint against Frank Yargee for deadly assault. “He tried to stab me, and I was unarmed,” Gage explained to a curious deputy sheriff. Gage didn’t mention that it was after he’d already broken his nose and fractured his skull. “And E. B. Aikin and Leroy Hinkle were aiding and abetting him in his assault.” Which was exactly true.

  Getting Yargee, Aikin, and Hinkle into custody took most of the night, and then Gage and Denny moved up to the first-class stateroom next to Nadyha’s. Just before dawn Baba Simza met them out in the hallway to give them a report. “She’s sleeping much. The laudanum makes her very droozy,” she said, and Gage and Denny knew exactly what she meant. “It’s best, for now. But I know Nadyha, by tomorrow she’ll be tired with the droozy. And miry deary Dovvel, He’ll take care of her. You pray, Gage, and you too, Dennis, you young heathen.”

  “I’ll leave that to Gage,” he said. “But Baba Simza, please, tell me what else we can do. What can we get her? Any medicines, herbs? Her favorite food? What is her favorite food?”

  “Crawfish gombo and peach anything,” Gage said promptly. “But listen, Baba Simza, I have another idea for a gift for her, but I need to talk to you first.”

  Simza gave an exaggerated sigh. “That means something I’m not going to like. But go on, gaje, I’m listening.” Gage had a talk with her, and with much grumbling Simza gave him permission to get a special gift for Nadyha.

  Gage and Denny had important errands to run, so they immediately returned to the city without bothering to go to bed. Since the Queen hadn’t sustained any damage from the almost-wreck they’d had, they were going to leave St. Louis at six o’clock that evening. Gage wanted to ride, but Denny said they’d have to take a carriage. “Why do we have to take a carriage?” Gage asked as they walked up the wharves to Main Street. “I’d rather ride.”

  “No, you wouldn’t,” Denny said confidently. “Because we have to buy a hoop skirt, and you would look really silly carrying a hoop skirt around on horseback.”

  “A hoop skirt?” Gage said blankly. “What’s that?”

  Denny needed to call on his parents, of course, and Gage accompanied him. He found Lucius Wainwright, Denny’s father, to be a hatchet-faced martinet who criticized everything about Denny from the moment they walked into the grand mansion. Denny resembled his mother, in that she had the same thick, healthy, bright brown hair and brown eyes, but there the resemblance ended. She had a long-suffering, rather petulant manner, nothing at all like Denny’s good nature. The visit left Gage wondering about the nature of bloodlines, and how capricious they were sometimes. Denny was much more like his uncle than he was his father or mother.r />
  And Monique Dobard, he thought as they left Wainwright House in relief, was like neither of her parents. Gage had been flattered, at first, by her obvious partiality; he had never made the acquaintance of an upperclass New Orleans woman, much less have one flirt with him so outrageously. But he felt a slight disdain for her now. He had come to understand that her obsession with him was not because she wanted to get to know him—Gage Kennon. She was flirting with the dangerous Gage the Dead-Eye Sharpshooter. And, he thought with dry amusement, she was driving her mother crazy, which Monique seemed to enjoy.

  They managed to complete all their errands, although it took them an unconscionably long time to find crawfish. Finally Gage found a hole-in-the-wall dive down on the docks with five pounds of live crawfish, and when the greasy owner found out how anxious they were to buy, Denny had to pay five dollars for them. “Only about a hundred times what you’d pay in New Orleans,” he said happily. “And she’s worth it.”

  They had to drive out of the city to get Gage’s gift for Nadyha, and that took another couple of hours. Finally they made all of their purchases, including a hoop skirt, which Gage realized would indeed be awkward to carry on horseback, for it was a flat circle about six feet in diameter with concentric wires. Denny explained to Gage, “Baba Simza told me to buy this for Cara, because she has a nice ball dress but no crinoline, and that’s all the current rage, you know. So Baba Simza gives me some money, and I told her that the Queen would finance this purchase and consider it part of the Countess’s costumes. But Baba Simza got really mad at me—she does that a lot—and she snapped, ‘Oh, so you think Cara will accept this gift from you, from a man? What’s the matter with you, dinili gajo?’

  “Yeah, well, she was right,” Gage said. “I may not know the difference between a hoop skirt and an anvil, but I know ladies like Cara. It would shame her to accept any gift from a man, especially—uh—delicates.”

  “Yeah, I realize that now,” Denny said thoughtfully. “Cara really is special, she’s charming, kind, has lovely manners and graces. And so gifted. You know, whenever she’s in the Moravian people always ask her to sing. I was thinking that maybe we should consider a separate show for her, a concert.”

  “Uh-huh. Good idea,” Gage said vaguely. All of his thoughts were intensely focused on Nadyha.

  They got back to the Queen of Bohemia at six thirty. Captain Humphries grumbled at them making their departure late, but Denny said, “Aw, he’s not happy unless he’s got something to complain about. I guarantee you, if he had done what we’ve done—and he would, for Nadyha, I suspect—he couldn’t have gotten here on the dot either.”

  The Captain’s Ball had been planned for this night, but because the accident had thrown them off schedule they decided to have it on the next night, Friday. Matter-of-factly, Denny told Gage, “Of course now there’ll be no play. So I was wondering, would you and Niçu do your show Saturday?”

  “If Niçu wants to,” Gage said. “If he doesn’t, I’ll go up there and show off all by myself.”

  “You don’t show off,” Denny said with a hint of envy. “You’re just you. I guarantee you, if I could shoot like you I’d be the biggest swaggering fool in history.”

  “Who says you aren’t anyway, Billy Yank?” Gage said.

  ALTHOUGH CAPTAIN HUMPHRIES, ZEDEKIAH Wainwright, and Gage and Denny had solemnly decided to keep Frank Yargee’s attack on Nadyha a secret, they had forgotten to tell Dr. Hypolite Dauterive. Dr. Dauterive told his wife and a couple of the other men in first class, so the whole truth was known to first class by early Thursday night.

  The Queen of Bohemia was much like a small town, admittedly a luxurious small town. Porters and stewards and chambermaids and waiters overhear conversations, and the third-class passengers had all noted Gage Kennon’s armed guard of Yargee’s and his friends’ stateroom. Many passengers were still up milling around when the deputies came to arrest them and the ambulance came to pick up Yargee. By Friday afternoon, when they stopped at Cairo, Illinois, the entire boat knew about the assault, if not the specifics.

  The knowledge affected the passengers, and had repercussions, some seen and some unseen. As was inevitable and what Gage and the others dreaded, gossip was rampant about Nadyha. What none of them had realized, however, was how much she was admired and respected, even liked. By the time the Captain’s Ball commenced on Friday evening as they left Cairo, Nadyha’s stateroom looked like some kind of combination greengrocer, fruiterer, and hothouse.

  Captain Humphries had, of course, sent a discreet note of apology, along with a huge bouquet of flowers. This idea had also occurred to many passengers, and Mirella had to start putting flowers out on the promenade. Even the crew chipped in and bought Nadyha a dozen red roses and had Niçu deliver them to her, along with a crudely spelled but endearing note from the Crew Chief. Stephen Carruthers sent her a box of chocolates. The orchestra worked together, and handwrote on fine parchment the music and lyrics to “Scarborough Fair.”

  Zedekiah Wainwright had practically cleaned out all of the fresh peaches in the city of St. Louis. In fact, he bought so much from two fruitsellers that they were able to close their shops early. He sent all kinds of fresh fruit to Nadyha, which everyone knew Boldo would probably eat.

  Denny had bought an enormous basket filled with French-milled scented soaps, talcum powder, perfume, and five different kinds of scented shampoos and rinses for a ladies’ hair. “She’ll probably dress me down for buying something so personal,” he joked to Gage. “But then again, when she sees your gift she’ll probably forget all the rest.”

  NADYHA OPENED THE FRENCH doors to a cool evening that had no moon. Music from the Captain’s Ball wafted up to the first-class deck. Nadyha sat down on her cushioned chaise—another gift sent from Zedekiah Wainwright—and Anca sat beside her. Nadyha stroked her head and listened to the music and savored the night. Although the Queen was lit with all of her golden lanterns, she didn’t light the far shore. All Nadyha saw were the shadows of trees against the sky.

  Behind her Simza and Mirella sat at the table, reading the Bible and talking quietly. Their voices were just soft murmurs to Nadyha, but by some chance zephyr she heard her grandmother say, “Pah, wheels within wheels, fiery creatures that fly but don’t turn, who can know what it means? But always, in the Bible, Dovvel will show you something. Even in this Ezekiel, listen, Mirella. I will seek that which was lost, and bring again that which was driven away, and will bind up that which was broken, and will strengthen that which was sick . . . That could be about the Romany, you see?”

  Nadyha thought, That could be about me. I feel lost, and I think I’m broken. Will I ever be whole again? Will I ever be—strong, and happy, and feel good again? I don’t know, I can’t see it, I’m afraid I really have been broken. Afraid . . . afraid . . .

  Restlessly she went inside and joined the two women at the table. “Si tut bocklo?” Mirella asked.

  Nadyha started to answer no, but then she said, “Actually, some fruit would be very nice. If Boldo’s left me any, that is.” Mirella and Simza exchanged quick glances; it was the first time that Nadyha had made an attempt at even a weak joke. Mirella rose and went to the sideboard to prepare a platter of fruit; Wainwright had bought peaches, of course, and plums and bananas and plantains and red, green, and purple grapes, apples, pears, and even some guavas and mangoes, which none of the Gypsies had ever seen. Mirella decided to peel and quarter some of them and see what they were like.

  Hearing his name, Boldo lumbered over to Nadyha and with a big breathy bear sigh, sat down beside her. She kissed his head and scratched behind his ears. “He knows something’s wrong,” she said in a low voice.

  “Hai,” Simza agreed. “Even the cat does.” Simza always put special emphasis on “cat” when she was talking about Anca, to communicate her disdain for such an animal. In the last two nights, however, since she had been staying in Nadyha’s stateroom with her, Nadyha had caught Simza—twice, actually—stroking Anca’s
head. It was the first time Nadyha had ever seen her grandmother touch the cougar.

  Nadyha said hesitantly, “Puridaia, I must ask you something, and you must tell me the truth.”

  “Hai, I will do that.”

  Nadyha frowned and chewed on her lower lip. “Do you—do you think that sometimes Gypsies should try harder to—to—be like the gajes? I mean, if we’re going to live with them, among them, instead of by ourselves with only our vitsi, I was thinking that maybe we should—look more like them, act more—”

  Simza put up one hand, an imperious gesture. “Hush kacker! I know what you’re trying to say, Nadyha, and you’re wrong, very wrong. You’re thinking that because we dress the way we do, with our bare arms and bare feet and dancing and singing, that that’s why that mokadi jook attacked you? Because you look like you do, and dress like you do? So, you think that in some way, it’s really your own fault?”

  Nadyha dropped her eyes and fingered her skirt nervously. “We’re so different from the gajes, Baba Simza. Men are bound to think—they must see us, and think—”

  “‘Men think, men see,’” Simza interrupted her. “There is no ‘men,’ there is only a man, a woman, a person, who makes choices, for good or for evil. That Yargee man chose evil. It wouldn’t have mattered if you wore gaje mourning clothes and covered yourself from head to foot, Nadyha, he still would have done what he did.”

  Mirella set a scrumptious-looking tray of fruit, bread, and cheese on the table. “Let me ask you a question, Nadyha. If Yargee had attacked me, do you think that I would have deserved it?”

  “What? No!”

  “No,” Mirella repeated. “But I dress like you, I dance in front of people like you, and no, that could never mean that I got what I deserved if a man raped me. Never. Just like you.”

  Nadyha looked thoughtful; but she did start to eat. All of them ate in silence for awhile, then she said, “We’re supposed to do the show tomorrow night.”