Shaken to the Core

by Jae

  Sleep. You need sleep. Tomorrow, the fires might be out, and life in the city—and her feelings, whatever they meant—would go back to normal. After one last glance at Kate’s face, she forced her eyes closed. Now, robbed of sight, her other senses intensified. In the cover of the darkness, she allowed herself to enjoy Kate’s warmth, her scent, her softness. After a while, she became aware that she’d been trailing her foot up and down Kate’s smooth calf. She froze. “Oh. I am so sorry. I only try to get warm.”

  “It’s all right. It feels good.” Now Kate froze too. “Uh, I mean, it’s nice not to feel so alone after the day we had.”

  Giuliana hummed her agreement.

  Both lay still for a while, neither moving an inch.

  Giuliana peered at Kate from beneath half-lowered lashes. Had Kate fallen asleep?

  “What’s good night in Italian?” Kate whispered.

  The question made Giuliana smile. Her tense body relaxed against Kate a bit. “I am Sicilian, not Italian.”

  “But Sicily is part of Italy, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but the languages are different.”

  When Kate nodded, a few strands of her hair tickled Giuliana’s cheek. “All right. What’s ‘good night’ in Sicilian, then?”

  “It is bona notti.”

  “Bona notti, Giuliana.”

  “Bona notti, Kate.” With the smile still on her lips, Giuliana closed her eyes.

  CHAPTER 17

  Golden Gate Park

  San Francisco, California

  April 20, 1906

  Giuliana cuddled closer, entwining their legs.

  The gentle pressure of Giuliana’s thigh between hers coaxed a low moan from Kate’s throat. She gasped and couldn’t get her breath.

  Leaning over her on one arm, Giuliana lowered her head and whispered a kiss to Kate’s forehead.

  Kate’s eyes fluttered shut—then flew open when Giuliana’s lips, cool against Kate’s overheated skin, moved down and kissed a path over her cheek toward the corner of her mouth. She started to tremble. “W-what are you doing?”

  Giuliana looked down at her. The glow of the distant fires made her brown irises seem to spark. “Life is too short to throw away love, no matter what form it comes in.” Before Kate could say a thing, Giuliana leaned down.

  Just before their lips could meet, a touch to her feet startled Kate awake.

  Breathing heavily, she stared up at the dark sky. Just a dream. Of course. Giuliana would never do something like that. She pulled her hand out from beneath the blanket and pressed it to the corner of her mouth. It had been so real. She could still feel the caress of Giuliana’s lips on her face and the warm press of Giuliana’s breasts against hers.

  Even as the last wisps of the dream faded away, she still felt that soft pressure on her chest. When she looked down, she discovered that it was real.

  Giuliana’s head rested on her chest. Her arm was wrapped tightly around Kate’s waist, and her good hand was tucked beneath Kate’s hip.

  Kate lifted her head off the ground so she could study her features, entirely relaxed in her sleep.

  The small movement made Giuliana cuddle closer. She mumbled something in Sicilian and nuzzled her face against Kate’s uncorsetted breasts.

  Heat shot down Kate’s body and pooled at that spot between her legs. With both hands, she clutched at the damp grass. Oh merciful heavens! She should move away; she really should. Her chest heaved beneath mouthfuls of gulped-in air, pressing Giuliana’s face even closer.

  Just when Kate thought she’d melt on the spot or burst into a million pieces, another touch distracted her.

  Something skittered over her feet.

  Was that Giuliana’s ice-cold toes again, or…? She peered down, right into two pairs of gleaming eyes.

  Someone’s lap dogs had gotten loose and had come over to see what the two humans were doing. At least that was her first thought. Then another small shape scampered through the grass a few feet away.

  Rats! The biggest rats Kate had ever seen were rustling through the grass. They were everywhere!

  Kate sat up so fast that Giuliana’s head landed in her lap.

  “What…? Kate?” She lifted her head from Kate’s thigh and stared up at her with flushed cheeks. “What did I—?”

  “Rats!” Kate pointed with a trembling finger.

  They jumped up, clutching each other for reassurance.

  Two of the rats skittered away, but a third tried to crawl into an abandoned soup bowl.

  Ugh! Kate kicked at the bowl, making the rat squeak and dart away, into the darkness.

  All around them, people started to scream and jump up.

  A stream of dark shapes, almost as big as cats, rushed along the row of tents and makeshift shelters.

  The earthquake must have driven them out of the sewers. They were just as homeless as the refugees camping out in the park, but Kate still shivered with revulsion. She pulled Giuliana closer, the blankets around both of their shoulders.

  A few yards away, her mother let out a bloodcurdling scream.

  “They’re gone. They’re gone, Millicent,” her father said. “Calm down. Let’s go back to sleep.”

  But her mother kept sobbing and pacing. “Sleep? I can’t sleep in this awful place.”

  “Where else are we supposed to sleep?” Kate asked.

  “I don’t care. I’m not lying back down. If those rats come back, we’ll catch the plague or some other horrible disease.” Her mother bent to tie the shoes she’d loudly complained about just a few hours ago.

  Kate’s father sighed and began to fold his blanket. “It’ll be dawn soon anyway. At least we’ll be the first ones in the breadline.”

  * * *

  Giuliana sat in the damp grass and carefully examined her blisters and the deep bruises her feet and legs had taken when the boardinghouse had collapsed on her. Her left ankle was swollen from all the walking she had done. Her entire body—or at least what she could see of it—looked as if an artist had dipped it in paints of red, blue, and purple. Still, she had gotten lucky.

  A horse-drawn wagon jangled through the park’s entrance, making her look up.

  A huge barrel had been tied to the back of the wagon. Liquid sloshing around in the barrel sounded like the most heavenly sound she’d ever heard.

  Water!

  Giuliana shoved her mangled feet back into her shoes and got up.

  Several other refugees had already spied the wagon too and were rushing toward it with empty bottles, canteens, and buckets.

  Her gaze darted around, searching for something she could use to get water. The O’Briens’ dented pot rested next to the cold fire. She grabbed it. Surely they wouldn’t mind, especially if she shared the water with them.

  Within minutes, hundreds of people had lined up at the water wagon.

  It was a good thing Giuliana hadn’t gone to wait in the breadline with Kate and her parents. By the time they returned, there might not be any water left. Biddy wasn’t there to get water either. After the rat scare, she’d said good-bye to her employers and left to search for her sister.

  Giuliana shifted her weight to the right foot, trying to relieve her swollen ankle for a moment. Strange. Last night, she hadn’t felt any pain, just the softness of Kate’s skin against her cold feet and her warmth against her body. In the light of day, it all felt like a dream—a wonderful dream, she admitted to herself. She hadn’t felt so at peace yet at the same time so nervous and excited since…Well, she’d never before felt that way.

  She’d always imagined that this might be how it would feel to share her bed with a husband. What did it mean that she’d now experienced those feelings with Kate, a woman? Did it make her like the woman in the vaudeville who’d dressed up as a man and sung about her love for another woman? But that had been just for show while the chaotic jumble of emotions she felt around Kate was very real.

  So, what exactly was it that she felt? Could it really be—?

  �
��It’s the wrath of God,” the man in line in front of her said, as if answering her unspoken question. He was talking to the family ahead of him. “Haven’t you heard? This”—he swept his hand toward the east, where the fires were still burning—“is happening all over the country. Chicago is burning, Seattle and Baltimore have collapsed, and New York City has been swept into the sea by a giant wave.”

  Giuliana gasped. Could that really be true? And what about other countries? Had Sicilia been hit by an earthquake too?

  By the time she reached the front of the line, her hands were trembling so badly that she nearly spilled the water on her way back.

  Kate put down the loaf of bread she’d gotten for their group, hurried toward her, and took the pot from her. She looked down at Giuliana’s hands. “What’s wrong?”

  “The men at the water wagon…they said the other cities are broken too. Do you think my family…?”

  Kate handed the pot of water to Mrs. O’Brien and wrapped one arm around Giuliana. “I’m sure they’re fine. But if you’re worried, we could try to get a letter or a telegram to them. At the bread lines, they have barrels with paper and pencils set up. People are writing messages to family and friends, and the postal service will deliver them, even without postage or envelopes.”

  Giuliana let out a shuddery breath as her panic slowly started to subside. Kate was right. Her family was probably fine, but sending them a letter to tell them she was all right was a good idea, just in case they heard about the earthquake in San Francisco. After Turi’s death, she didn’t want her mother to have to worry about losing another of her children. She looked into Kate’s eyes, as blue as the sky before the curtain of smoke had covered it. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.” Kate rubbed her back.

  The touch sent tingles of pleasure down Giuliana’s spine. She wanted to close her eyes and arch into the touch like a cat being petted. Her skin felt hungry for Kate’s touch, and that scared her, so she sat without moving, barely even breathing.

  “Want to go do that now, while we’re waiting for the water to boil?” Kate asked.

  Giuliana nodded, glad for something to do that would distract her from these new, scary feelings.

  They got a scrap of paper and a pencil and sat down by the fire. Giuliana told her the Sicilian words, and Kate wrote them down as best as she could. Half of the short letter might be indecipherable, but Giuliana hoped her family would understand enough to grasp that she was fine. Just her signing her name—the only thing she could write—at the bottom of the letter should let them know that she was alive.

  Giuliana got up. Only when she was standing did she realize that she’d put her hand on Kate’s shoulder while climbing to her feet. Shaking her head at herself, she turned and marched away. After squeezing through the masses waiting in line, she made it to the barrels that had been set up and dropped her letter into one of them.

  On her way back, she walked past a hastily erected booth next to a wobbly stove. A sign hung above it with two words and a couple of palms drawn around them.

  Giuliana grinned. She could easily guess what the sign above the booth said—Palm Garden. It was just like the San Franciscans to name this improvised eatery after the finest restaurant in the city. Was the real thing still standing, or had it turned into a pile of ashes too?

  Already past the booth, she paused and turned back. She fingered the battered little pouch dangling from her waist. It held the only two things she’d managed to rescue from her room: the pendant watch Kate had given her when she’d thought they would never see each other again and the five-dollar coin from Mr. Winthrop. She took out the coin and rubbed her thumb across its shiny surface.

  No way could she safely send it to her family anytime soon. But the money could go to another good cause. She imagined the joy in Kate’s eyes when she brought back a can of peaches or some other treat for them to share. After they had gotten nothing but some milk, beans, and bread for the last two days, the sweet fruit would taste wonderful.

  With the coin in her hand, she approached the man behind the stove. “What do you sell?”

  “What do you want?” he asked back.

  “Do you have peaches?”

  The man bent and rummaged through a box. With a triumphant cry, he straightened and held up a tin can.

  Giuliana barely held herself back from jumping with joy. “How much money?”

  “How much do you have?”

  She glanced at the coin in her hand and reluctantly showed it to him.

  “One can of peaches costs five dollars,” he said.

  What? She could have gotten at least two dozen cans for that amount of money a few days ago. “No, you do not understand. I want only one can.” She held up one finger. “One.”

  He nodded. “That’s the price for one. Prices are dictated by supply and demand, you understand?” He looked at her as if she were slow-witted, grinned, and wiggled the can. “So? Do you want it or not?”

  Someone cleared his throat behind Giuliana.

  She looked over her shoulder and instantly tensed.

  Behind her stood a soldier, a rifle in the bend of his arm and a grim expression on his face.

  Was she in trouble? Did the army not like people bartering for extra food?

  The soldier waved his fingers at her. “Give me the money.”

  She tightened her uninjured hand around the coin. It was all the money she had left. “But…”

  “Give me the money,” he repeated, a little louder.

  Swallowing, Giuliana handed over the coin. It was a lot of money, but not worth getting shot over.

  The soldier gave it to the man behind the stove, who beamed and dropped the coin into his already-bulging purse.

  Were they working together to make money off the desperation of hungry people?

  “Give me the can and your purse.” Now the soldier waved his fingers at the merchant.

  “What?”

  “The purse and the can. Now.” The soldier casually pointed his rifle at the man.

  Red-faced, the man handed over his purse and the can of peaches.

  The soldier took out several coins and then threw the purse back at its owner. “Here.” He handed Giuliana the can and the money.

  She stared at the coins and counted them quickly. Four dollars and seventy-five cents.

  “Twenty-five cents is still aplenty for a single can.” The soldier gave the merchant a glare over the barrel of his rifle. “Stick with that price, or I’ll confiscate your goods.”

  The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Of course, sir. I will.”

  The soldier nodded at Giuliana, shouldered his rifle, and marched away.

  She looked at his retreating back for a moment. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. So there were honorable soldiers protecting the helpless after all. Despite her aching feet and her swollen ankle, she nearly skipped toward their campfire, already imagining Kate’s smile when she gave her the peaches.

  “Giuliana!” a man’s voice called from behind her.

  She stopped and turned around. “Calogero!”

  Her friend’s shirt was soot-stained, and the lines on his weather-beaten face seemed to have deepened, but at least he appeared to be uninjured.

  They came together in a short embrace, and she kissed his bearded cheeks. It tickled, but it didn’t make her feel warm all over the way sharing a blanket with Kate had.

  “Bedda matri, I’m so glad to see you,” Calogero said in Sicilian. “You didn’t get hurt in this hell, did you?”

  “Nothing bad,” she answered in their language. “And you?”

  “No. I was already up and out of the house when the quake came.”

  “Then we were both lucky.” Giuliana didn’t want to linger on just how lucky she had been and shoved back thoughts of the collapsed boardinghouse.

  Calogero snorted. “I’m not waiting around and testing that luck, that’s for sure.”

  “What do you mean?”
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br />   “I hear Oakland, over on the other side of the bay, wasn’t hit so hard. There are still trains running from there. I’m going to New York City tomorrow.”

  “New York City?” Giuliana remembered what the man at the water wagon had said. “I heard it was destroyed too.”

  “Nonsense. I’m sure it’s fine. I never heard of earthquakes happening in New York, and Bernardo says you can earn good money there.”

  Earn good money…which you no longer could in San Francisco.

  “Do you want to come with me?” Calogero scratched his stubble. Was he blushing beneath his beard? “It might not be the most romantic way, but…I always liked you.”

  Oh diu miu. Was he offering what she thought he was? “Calogero, I…I really don’t know what to say.”

  “Think about it, all right? Even if you don’t want to marry me, you could still come. Take the ferry to Oakland and meet me at the train station tomorrow at noon.” He kissed her cheeks and walked away before she could get her mouth to work.

  She stared at his retreating back. A few minutes ago, her future had been uncertain—and suddenly she had an option. Well, two options, really, but she didn’t count Calogero’s marriage proposal. She liked him, but there was no tenderness when she thought of him, no flutter in her belly when he smiled.

  But going to New York City to earn money…With Calogero’s help, she could get a job and connect with the Sicilian community there. And when the time ever came to return to Sicily, she could take a passenger ship from New York, where most ships to Europe started from anyway.

  She shook her head at herself. Stop dreaming. The few dollars in her pocket wouldn’t pay for the train ticket or for enough food to last her until she reached New York City. Even if Calogero had saved up enough money to pay for two tickets, accepting money from him suggested that she would accept his marriage proposal too. Out of the question.

  At least it meant she didn’t have to face the dilemma of having to say good-bye to Kate so soon.

  She hefted the can of peaches and walked back to their campfire.

  * * *