Pretty Waiter Girls

by Greg Alldredge

  The next speaker began with a more sinister tone, “We should not allow such filth to inhabit our city. We should do like a doctor and cut out the cancer that is the Barbary coast! Like Sodom and Gomorrah, we need to cleanse the area with fire! Only fire can rid us of the Sodomites and witches located in the city! Like olden times we need to purge the city with fire, then we can begin on the state!”

  “He can’t be serious, they could burn down the whole town!” Helena watched Sigmund for reassurance.

  “I am afraid they are deadly serious they tried it before,” Sigmund answered.

  Shocked, she eavesdropped as a group of men nearby discussed lighting Chinatown on fire when the wind came out of the South, and it would burn the Chinese out. She could tell their animosity wasn’t only directed at Chinatown. Anyone they considered being different found their names on their list. Black, Mexican, Chinese, cross-dressers, and witches were only some of the people being singled out as being impure for their city.

  “How can people claim to be Christians and hate so much?” Helena looked at Sigmund with pleading eyes.

  Solemnly he answered, “The devil can cite scripture for his purpose. Evil men will warp any belief system they feel that can to gain power.”

  Many of the people cried out for good morals and discipline for their cities streets, it sounded to Helena that they were merely afraid and lashing out at whoever they could. Someone was using the city’s fear to push their own agenda.

  Before she could suggest to Sigmund about leaving; screams of fear began rolling over the crowd like the surf on Seal Rock. She wanted to escape but the throng on the far side of the courtyard surged towards their position pushing her and her compatriots off the City Hall steps in a wave a flesh.

  She wasn’t sure what happened on the far side of the intersection, but it couldn’t be good to be causing such a panic. Instantaneously separated from the others in the push, she tried to swim through the sea of people towards Bessie, hoping that Lane and Sigmund would meet her there. Before she traveled twenty feet, some new horror began at her front.

  This time she was close enough to see a wall of black hoods walking towards the group each carrying an ax handle or some other blunt instrument. The new attackers were swinging them indiscriminately at people as they tried to escape. Looking for any target, man or woman, head, torso, or extremity. They remained silent as they swung their cudgels more to inflict pain than to murder.

  When the lead people saw the noiseless armed horde heading towards them, they began backing up which led to a crush of people all trying to escape while being attacked on front and back. Arms pinned to her sides in the crush of humanity she backpedaled with the group, only to step on something soft underfoot.

  She found a woman who’d fallen to the gutter and was going to be trampled alive if someone didn’t help her soon. Helena bent down to help the unconscious woman to safety when she caught a knee in the side of her head by someone attempting to escape the mayhem.

  As she lay on the street slipping in and out of consciousness, she kept thinking I’m going to die trampled to death in this stinking gutter, and then she blacked out.

  Helena glided in and out, as she felt her body floating in a dark, moist tunnel. Held aloft by uncountable hands she felt dripping water and thought of Madame Griselda’s reading. She perceived her journey down the river Styx beginning.

  Ship of Lost Children:

  Helena woke, and the sun shone bright, she had no idea of the time, the day, or where she’d slept. While on her side she could see the sunlight pouring through large windows beyond, the bay plainly visible with ships plowing through the water, their white sails billowing. Water lapped against the structure she rested in, she recalled being in the streets by the town hall, then the enormous riot, that was all she remembered.

  Helena rolled over on her other side, and there sat a little girl watching her. The girl that lifted the locket from her during the search of Chinatown.

  “Hello sweetie. Where am I?” Helena asked.

  The girl didn’t say a word but ran out the door.

  “Well, you could’ve said good morning,” Helena did a quick account, looking around the room, she considered it spacious if ancient. The wooden walls shaped in complex curves, like nothing she had ever seen before.

  “Good morning, did you sleep well?” If Helena had to describe the person that walked through the door she would say call him a young boy not more than eleven or twelve with a pointed face like a ferret or mouse. She immediately saw he carried her walking stick, twisting the blade’s locking mechanism clicking it opened and closed.

  “As well as can be expected after being knocked unconscious by a mob.”

  “I’m sure that wasn’t their intention. They just wanted to show those racist bastards they wouldn’t go down without a fight,” he sat down in a chair across from her before continuing, “My name’s Angus, but most people call me Gus.”

  “Thank you, Gus, I assume you’re the one that rescued me off the streets.”

  “No, it was little Annie and her gang. I was nowhere near the riot, they brought you in unconscious last night, so I gave you my room.”

  “This is your room? Where am I?”

  “This my lady is one of the few remaining abandoned ships from the gold rush years, the Captain’s quarters, my quarters. I bought it a few decades ago and turned it into our home.”

  “A few decades ago? Surely you’re not much more than fifteen years old yourself.”

  “For some reason, Annie thinks we should trust you, I’m not sure we should. The way I see it we have one of two choices. We trust you, or we kill you and dump your body in the bay. Tell me why I should trust you.”

  “I’m not sure. The only reason I’m here is I’m trying to rescue some children from inside the quarantine zone, and I’m trying to find a friend of mine who’s came up missing two weeks ago. As it stands right now, I’m a failure at both. I don’t know if I would trust me with anything important.”

  “That makes you sound relatively harmless,” the young man thought for a few seconds before continuing, “Annie would be distraught if I dumped your body in the bay, for now, we will try talking first.”

  “Can I ask questions or is this a one-way interrogation?”

  “Ask away, to answer your first question, I am sixty-five years old. Through a quirk of fate, I was born to live a very long time and never look like an adult, all the people here are like me. Annie is my daughter, and she is old enough to be your mother.”

  “You’re a Legendary Creature,” Helena sat up, so she could get a better view of Gus.

  “Yes, I believe that is the moniker that Mister Darwin has labeled us, but we’re not that legendary, many people would call us lowly. Have you ever heard of lycanthropy?”

  “You’re a werewolf?”

  Rolling his eyes, “Why does everybody always jump to that conclusion. Do I look like a wolf? No, your ladyship, since it sounds like you’ve read a little, surely you understand that people who suffer from lycanthropy can be forced into other creatures. I am the Rat King, no need to bow we don’t suffer formalities here. The history of our disease is not well known. Many lycanthropes can control when and where they change. However, as the full moon grows near they lose control, becoming more animal-like, almost feral.”

  “All those children I see stealing, are wererats?”

  “I’m sure that all the crime committed by children are not members of my warren, but probably a large portion of the petty crime are our adults. Annie is a fine example. She has been following you for the last few days, and you never knew it. Why have you been running around the city?”

  Gus sat patiently and listen to her tale from beginning to end the high and low points, with his fingers steepled in front of his pointy chin listening intently, even chuckling once or twice.

  “And you are no closer to achieving your goals?”

  “No, I’m afraid
I’m not, I’m not sure I was made for Detective work.”

  “I find myself at an interesting crossroads. I see that you’re in need of information, and information is what I excel at. Perhaps we should come to the financial arrangement where I sell you, advice, and I can better provide for my Mischief.”

  “Do you have any knowledge of Missy?”

  “Not in a manner of speaking. However, you say that she was helping pretty waiter girls escape their bondage.”

  “Most definitely. I met two of the women she helped escape.”

  “That right, there could be grounds for murder. Those women are big business, people will buy and sell them like livestock. If I give you advice, would you be willing to meet my price?”

  “It depends on what your price is,” Helena reflexively reached for the bag stashed between her bosom.

  “It will start small if you like my information you’ll be back for more. One hundred dollars for me helping you find Missy.

  “And I don’t pay until I’m satisfied with the outcome?”

  Gus nodded yes.

  “Then I accept your offer one hundred dollars if I find the information useful.”

  “I wonder if she worked with the Right Honorable Reverend Beckett Cartwright and his mission for wayward women? He might know who threatened her,” tapping his fingers on his chin.

  “I think James Phelan did it.”

  “He is capable of it, but it’s not his style. Just because he’s a jackass, and a bully doesn’t make him a murderer, besides if he did it, it would’ve been done to make a statement. We can’t go looking at everyone capable of murder, in this city it would be a very long list.”

  “Why do you keep saying murder? I think she still alive.”

  “She may be alive, but no one kidnaps and holds a person for this long planning on releasing them. Either she’s going to die or something much worse will happen to her.”

  “Why does the city need to be such a violent place?”

  “Our home is no more violent than other cities of the world. We live in a relatively safe time compared to the previous history. We don’t fear Sacramento or Los Angeles sacking the city because we’ve more wealth.”

  “You think this mission for wayward women would be a good place for me to search next?”

  “I can think of no better.”

  “What about the tunnels under the city, should I check those?”

  “That would prove unhealthy for you. Wererats display exceptional strength, speed, and agility, and there are places in the tunnels we won’t go. A squishy normal wouldn’t last long.”

  “But I was told that Missy was in a cell, a dark cell near the water.”

  “She may well be, but that cell could be in the belly of the ship, or Oakland, or the hundreds of other moorings around the Bay. For all, you know she could be in the center of the bay or heading out to sea.”

  “I will check the mission, but what about the children trapped in Chinatown?”

  “I will ask Annie to get your children out for another hundred dollars.”

  “You can do that?” before he had a chance to answer, she said, “You get the girls out I’ll pay the hundred dollars.”

  Angus put his forefinger and thumb under his protruding front teeth and let out a shrill whistle which was quickly answered by Annie sticking her head through the door, “I’m sure you’ve been listening at the door. Take care of the lady’s request and check on those children at the Chinese Girl’s School in Chinatown.”

  Annie bobbed her head and gave a little wave to Helena before ducking back out of the door.

  “Does she never speak?”

  “She would if she could, once a were-creature reaches adulthood, most damage heals during transformation, but before they can transform... a coven of witches caught her when she was a child. It seemed they needed a rat tongue for a spell, they got it into their heads that a wererat tongue would work better. I’m sure you can guess the outcome for Annie. When we found out, we caught the bitches and skinned them alive, then packed them in salt till they died. We then posed their mummies around their coven as a warning to others. We haven’t been bothered by any supernatural creatures since. No one wants to go to war with an enemy that can come out of the ground anywhere.”

  “The world seems so brutal to what I grew up thinking,” Helena began to cry softly, feeling the young girl’s pain.

  “Damn you women and your crying. It doesn’t take long before you find my weakness,” Helena was surprised when Gus walked over and gave her the most beautiful silk handkerchief.

  “Now dry your eyes if you go to the mission and if you don’t find any useful information come back here, and I have a few other ideas for leads, though they are much less likely.”

  “Who might the other leads be?”

  “Well you’ve met the Death Witch Cage Storm, he would sell his mother for a sawbuck. He’s been stealing the black man’s culture and selling it for years now.”

  “I’ve met him, he could die today, and I wouldn’t mind,” clenching her fists.

  “He is most reprehensible, but his style would be a more vicious kill or sell someone into slavery. I think he’s down on the list. There are a few other shadowy organizations, some new to the area some not so new that could be involved. There are the doctors, the medical professionals, who are always looking for the next great leap in medicine and unafraid to practice on the unwilling. Then there are creatures that crave certain human organs that could be suspected, and more than a few sick and twisted humans that are skulking around.”

  “You’re saying it’s a long list.”

  “And the longer we talk about it, the more I can think of.”

  “Where are we?”

  “We’re in a little bay called China Basin.”

  “I’m a long way from home, what happened last night anyway?”

  “That’s more information, but since we’re going to become lifelong friends and business partners, I will give you what I know for free. It seems a number of people who live in the city were not particularly happy with the rally that was going on. I’m not sure which specific neighborhoods became involved, but by the color of skin, I would assume it was the Mission District and that little enclave under Telegraph Hill. If Chinatown and the Barbary Coast wasn’t quarantined, I’m sure they would’ve joined in. The whole lot of them are damn lucky no shots got fired. As it is, the mayor asked for help from troops from Fort Mason.”

  The irony is many of the people gathered at Pioneer Monument last night wanted to ship the Chinese and Negroes back to Africa, but most of the troops guarding the streets are Buffalo Calvary. The bad news is they are maintaining the quarantine by the Mayor’s direction now. I wouldn’t be surprised if he and a select few of his political cronies weren’t responsible for James Phelan and his cohort. It’s much easier to maintain power if you find a scapegoat for the voters to blame. Why not find the weakest minority in the area and exploit that fear? I just don’t think anybody expected the weakest to fight back.”

  “Somebody needs to stop these evil men; don’t they realize that most people only want to be left alone? I would be willing to bet the people of Chinatown or the Barbary Coast wouldn’t give two cents to know what the rest of the city was doing.”

  “Miss, you’ll find the only thing people in power understand is more power. Power is a more addictive drug than opium.”

  “I’m beginning to understand that, I sense no one knows who the power is behind those in charge. I feel like someone is pulling strings making us all dance like marionettes.”

  “Could be several or all of the private clubs in the city, the people from your community, or one of those secret societies that are only spoken about in hushed tones where no one can possibly overhear. Some think even mentioning a name can garner a death warrant. Fanatics come in all shapes and sizes, colors and creeds, you never know when you turn over a rock, you might find a serpent or
worse.”

  “Where is this mission?”

  “It’s on the corner of Geary and Scott streets, near Hamilton Square, a large walled-in three-story building.”

  “That is out of the way from my home, I will need to go there alone. Can you send word to my home in Pacific Heights where I’m going? I’m sure they’re worried about me.”

  Angus scrutinized her with a sharp eye for detail and a prospective income, “You and I are going to discuss this business arrangement when you have money on you. For now, I know who you are, and I know you can get money, so we will agree to work together for future payment.”

  Helena thought: Now I understand why Lane keeps money in his boot heels! “Don’t worry, I plan on this being the last time I ever leave home without money. I assure you, you will be rewarded for all your help.”

  “Don’t you worry, I plan to be rewarded. You’re going to need this,” he said as he handed her walking stick.

  Wayward Women:

  While walking through the ship she encountered more of Angus’s Warren, they all looked like they were under eighteen years old men, women, and those she assumed were children. All of them stood short, Angus the tallest, the same height as Helena. While observing them, she understood why people might think them rodent-like, all had weak chins, protruding teeth, the broadest smile, and the cutest little upturn nose. The boys all had scraggly little beards and mustaches to look older, and they all had mousy brown hair. Helena would’ve been surprised to learn they were all related. In her mind, Helena named them: Lost Boys, even though over half were female she simply liked the ring of it. She loved Annie most of all, and she was the cutest.

  Helena used The Call Building as her landmark. The tallest building west of the Mississippi it stood out as a natural guidepost towards downtown. She walked off the ship, down the ramp to the shore, following a path to Eighth Street which crossed over the Southern Pacific Railroad tracks. Blissful it was early morning, she walked in riding gear and through a part of town she typically wouldn’t be caught dead in, at least she still had her mother’s sword. A walk of shame if there ever was one, strolling past the workers heading to the docks, the shipyards, or the train network, most only gave her a passing glance wrapped up in their own concerns, like eating.