The Rainbow's Foot

by Denise Dietz

  Flo had begun to close her eyes for his kiss. Now she opened them wide. “What’s that?”

  “A present. Snake bones.”

  “I have a snake named Spinach because she’s green. Thank you for the gift, Mr. McDonald, but I don’t cotton to dead animals.”

  “Snakes are reptiles. These bones belonged to a rattler who snuck up on me and my horse, El Dorado. I killed the snake with one shot.”

  Flo felt her eyes widen even more. “You have your own horse?”

  “Yep. Dorado’s a palomino. I got him for my birthday.” Cat thrust the bones into Flo’s hands. “Take this and use it as a necklace.”

  “I told you, I don’t cotton to dead animals.”

  “Reptiles, honey.”

  Flo saw red. If Cat had spanked her behind, it wouldn’t have hurt worse than her injured pride. First con-jur-ees, then baseball, then his snickery remark about yellow hair, now reptiles. Spit!

  “Don’t call me honey, you bye-blow cad,” she said, watching Dee sidle up next to Cat.

  “Here you are, young gent,” Dee cooed. “Minta’s giving me the eye ’cause I ain’t doin’ my job proper.”

  Cat grinned but his eyes looked like chips of green ice, and Flo wished she hadn’t called him a bye-blow cad.

  He slung one muscled arm across Dee’s shoulder. “Let’s go, honey.”

  Turning on her heel, Flo marched into the kitchen. She tossed the bone necklace toward the far corner then washed her hands at the sink pump.

  You’re a snake, Cat McDonald!

  *****

  Minta accepted a new glass of champagne from Suzy. Why didn’t Flo like the woman? Even if Suzy wasn’t so eager to please, she brought Little Heaven a tidy profit. Soon that profit would be Minta’s.

  Dang, her corset felt as tight as a reluctant virgin’s hidey-hole. What had Suzy said before? Something ’bout how Flo was a virgin and she’d make a fortune.

  Minta stood, swaying slightly. “I’ve got other plans for my girlie,” she said.

  “Other plans, ma’am?”

  “I’m sending Flo to Denver.” Downing her drink, Minta blew the bubbles out through her nose, into a lace handkerchief. “I’m gonna find a nice family to board her an’ she’ll ’tend a good school, learn twiggy things jus’ like I told Belle. I’ve been savin’ my money since Flo was little. She’s gonna be a true lady an’ no one’s gonna’ split her head with a hatchet.”

  “The child is lucky to have a mama like you, ma’am.” Time I plowed my field. “How much money you got saved, Miss Minta?”

  “Enough.”

  “Two, maybe three hundred?”

  “Silly Suzy. Three hundred wouldn’t clothe an’ feed her good. Got myself lots more, all in gold.”

  “Here, drink my glass of champagne, Miss Minta. I ain’t touched it.”

  “No. My dress’ll get too tight.”

  “Such a pretty gown. Red becomes you with your hair and all.”

  “Why’re you saying that? Red clashes something awful with my hair, but I purely enjoy wearing it.”

  “I only meant that you look pretty in whatever gown you choose,” Suzy said quickly.

  “I sewed Flo’s dress myself. Better than anything from Paris, France.”

  “I wonder if you hid it good.”

  “Flo’s birthday present?”

  “No, ma’am. The gold you saved for her schooling. Is it at the bank?”

  “I don’t trust banks. Banks’re run by men. Where’s your gent, Suzy?”

  “He’s coming through the door right now, along with your Mr. Peiffer. Did you hide the gold in your bedroom?”

  “Samuel, yoo-hoo, here I am.” Minta waved her handkerchief. “Flo’s getting ready to sing. Help me over to the piano, you handsome devil.”

  Suzy almost snorted through her crooked nose. Handsome devil? Samuel Peiffer barely reached Minta’s bosom. Why did he bed her? Beth said Samuel admired the young girls. Beth was sixteen and swore she could pleasure Samuel if she didn’t entertain John McDonald steady. Suzy watched Samuel preen like a bantam rooster. True, he barely reached Minta’s breasts, but he took advantage of that fact by slurping at her bodice, looking for all the world like a baby sucking a sugar teat.

  “After Flo’s party you can play,” Minta admonished. “I’d rather play now, Samuel, ’cause you got me all hot, but if you wait I’ll add soixante-neuf and not charge extra.”

  Suzy could have sworn Peiffer tried to hide his disgust with a satisfied smirk. Smoothing the folds in her purple gown, she sauntered forward to greet her own guest.

  So Minta had lots of money and didn’t believe in banks. A shame Peiffer had entered the parlor when he did. Another glass of champagne and Minta might have told where her gold was hid. Still, sometimes it paid to hold your tongue. Suzy didn’t want Minta distrustful.

  Yes, a good whore should learn two things about her tongue. When to hold it and when to use it.

  *****

  “Curfew shall not ring tonight.” Flo held the last note as long as she dared. With her eyes closed in sorrowful ecstasy, she heard sobs from the Angels. Flo had sung about Bessie, whose lover was doomed to die with curfew’s knell, at least a dozen times. The response was always the same. When she sang about Bessie’s climb to the church tower and her swing twixt heaven and hell, suspended on the bell to keep it silent, her listeners always wept.

  Had Cat McDonald wept?

  There he stood, leaning against the wall, holding a bottle of Coca-Cola in his hand, grinning down at Dee. He hadn’t even watched her performance, the snake.

  Good bones, what a laugh. Dee was old but slender. If Flo climbed a church tower and swung on a bell, the rope would break and her lover would die at curfew’s knell.

  She turned her face toward Washman. “Please play ‘The Bird on Nellie’s Hat.’ ”

  “You said the notes’re too high, Miss Flo.”

  “True, but I feel like screaming. I read where some singers shatter glass with their high notes. Let’s bust us some green Coca-Cola glass.”

  When she had finished, Flo curtsied. That’s the best I’ve ever sung. So there, Cat McDonald! I didn’t shatter glass, but I reached the high notes just fine.

  Minta smothered Flo inside a hug. “Blueberry would be so proud. You sing like her, only better.”

  “Don’t cry.”

  “I can’t help it. Your new song’s so pretty.” Minta swiped at her tears with the back of her hand. “Mercy! Do you plan to cut your cake or should we feed it to your pets?”

  “Mercy! You’re still giddy from champagne. Where’s Madam Robin?”

  “She had some business with Alonzo Welty. Here she comes now. Never mind the cake.” Minta looked down at the small man standing by her side. “Thank you kindly for the use of your puff tie, Samuel. Here, bind this over your eyes, child.”

  Blindfolded, Flo was led outside. She felt the dark tie loosened and stared with disbelief.

  Hitched to a post was a dappled gray mare, an enormous red bow tied round her neck.

  “Mine?” Flo glanced left and right at all the smiling faces. Even Beth stood within the circle of John McDonald’s arms, grinning as if she’d just swallowed a bowl of sweet cream.

  “Alonzo Welty found her,” said Robin. “The Angels and I bought her legal. Alonzo’s letting her stay at the livery, no charge.”

  “Thank you. Oh, thank you. Does she have a name, Madam?”

  “Alonzo didn’t say.”

  “I’ll call her Dumas, because I just finished reading The Complete Works of Alexandre Dumas. The book’s written by a man, but if Whiskey Johnnie could name his boy burro Clementine, I can call my mare Dumas. May I ride her?”

  “Now?” Minta stroked Flo’s glossy curls. “Astride? We didn’t bother buying a sidesaddle since the leather would crack with disuse.”

  “Mr. McDonald will tether your mare out back, won’t you, John dear?” Robin placed her arm across Flo’s shoulders and led her toward Little Heaven’
s entrance. “Tomorrow you can ride Doo-ma over to Welty’s. It’s after midnight, Flo, so we must cut your cake. Don’t forget to blow out the candles and make a wish.”

  “Mr. McDonald is tethering my wish.”

  “Make another. It can’t hurt.”

  I wish Nugget Ned Lytton would fall down dead, thought Flo, entering the parlor and watching Hummingbird Lou place the cake on top of the piano. Looking down at the candles, Flo pursed her lips and changed her mind. I wish Cat McDonald would kiss my mouth the same way he sucks that Coca-Cola bottle.

  *****

  “I can’t drink more champagne. My head’s just now beginning to clear,” said Minta. “Bring me a cup of tea, Suzy. Water’s boiling on the stove.”

  “Yes, ma’am, right away.”

  The kitchen was empty. Reaching into her bodice, Suzy retrieved the packet of laudanum she had taken from her room during Flo’s performance. She stirred the laudanum into the tea, and added five spoonfuls of sugar. Minta had a sweet tooth. Minta had lots of money, all in gold, and she didn’t trust banks. Which meant the gold was hid somewhere inside her room.

  The laudanum would take care of Minta, but what about Samuel Peiffer? Suzy couldn’t drug his drink. She would have to think of something else quick, while they still celebrated the young girl’s birthday. Young girl! How old was Flo? Twelve? Thirteen? Hard to tell.

  Beth said Peiffer liked young girls. Beth was a vainglorious brat, full of herself, but she had the instincts of an alley cat.

  If Beth was right, Suzy could get rid of Peiffer and add to her nest egg, all at the same time. Plan purposefully. Prepare perfectly. Proceed positively. Pursue persistently.

  Suzy laughed, startling a green snake that slithered underneath the warm cookstove.

  *****

  Samuel Peiffer missed being a dwarf by fifteen inches. Despite his earlier shenanigans with Minta, he preferred his lovers flat-chested and young, the younger the better.

  He had slunk out of Boston after repeatedly raping the eleven-year-old daughter of a financier. Nobody could pin the deed on Samuel, but the somewhat dim-witted child kept babbling “Sam, Sam, the baker’s man,” and the financier had threatened castration.

  Samuel stared across the room at Minta’s girl. Her pink tongue licked, capturing cake crumbs. What a beauty! Let others admire the voluptuous nudes cavorting on the ceiling above his head. He fancied plump thighs and sparse—

  “Mr. Peiffer?”

  Samuel looked up at the new parlor girl, the one who’d recently arrived from St. Louis.

  “Mr. Peiffer, I’m Suzy. Madam Robin brought me here to take over Little Heaven when she retires.”

  Samuel had heard that Minta was next in line and yet he knew Robin had once owned an establishment in St. Louis.

  “It’s a secret, sir.” Momentarily, Suzy pressed her first finger against her lips. “Madam Robin wants me to slide into the running of our house without a hitch. I’m only telling the important guests.”

  “I won’t breathe a word,” said Samuel.

  “I’m aware that Minta is your choice for this evening, but I have a transaction that might interest you. Minta doesn’t know. Robin and I thought she might be angered since she wasn’t consulted. You see, Minta believes she’s to be the new madam but Robin thinks her too old.”

  And greedy, thought Suzy. Leaning against the piano, Minta was turning her teacup upside down in her eagerness to finish every sweetened drop.

  “What kind of transaction?”

  “A birthday present for young Flo. It would involve a large fee, paid to me in advance. Flo’s unsoiled.” Noting Peiffer’s scowl at the mention of recompense, Suzy said, “If that’s not your cup of tea, sir, there are others who—”

  “Hold on! I find myself intrigued by your covert tone.” As Samuel fumbled inside his jacket, a knife fell out. He scooped it up off the floor and negligently returned it to his pocket. Fingering a wad of banknotes, he said, “Tell me more.”

  “As you can see, Minta’s tipsy. If you care to, uh, tutor young Flo, you must help Minta to her room and make her comfortable. Then you must wait for the clock to strike three.”

  “Do you think the child might enjoy soixante-neuf, Madam Suzy?”

  Sarah Dusseldorf took a few moments to savor her new title. Tempted to remove all her hairpins and toss them in the air like confetti, she merely said, “I am certain your experienced lips and tongue will bring her pleasure, Samuel dear.”

  *****

  After listening to Suzy’s request, Robin couldn’t quite hide her displeasure. The house was full-up and the girl had a bellyache from her monthly.

  “So you do understand, Madam, how I wouldn’t be much use to my young gentleman.”

  “How young, Suzy?”

  “He’ll be satisfied with a quick date, even though he’s paid for the night. And he can brag to his friends about how Madam Robin herself—”

  “Not the McDonald boy. He looks like he can go the whole night and then some.”

  “Cat McDonald is with Dee, remember? Oh, God, the pain!”

  “Take a spoonful of laudanum, Suzy. I’ll entertain your young gent and let you keep your share to boot. You’ve been doing very well at Little Heaven. I’m sure Minta would agree.”

  Fifteen

  The parlor clock chimed three times.

  Suzy sauntered to her bedroom door, inched it open, and covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. Clutching his shoes, Samuel Peiffer strolled down the hallway. He was clothed in his expensive tweed trousers and starched white shirt, but his socks unraveled at the toes.

  She waited until the small man had descended the staircase before she tiptoed across the hallway and entered Minta’s room. Holy Mother of God! The poor woman slept on her back, surrounded by a swirl of petticoats and red ruffles. Even drugged, she moaned with every breath. Her corset stays hadn’t been loosened. Suzy had told Samuel to make Minta comfortable. What had he been doing for two hours? Twiddling his thumbs? Diddling his drumstick?

  The room was dim, the shadows menacing. Suzy tied back both drapes, and moonlight shone on a dragon-decorated screen. Tossed across the screen was a pretty, black, rose-patterned kimono. Suzy rummaged through a jewelry box, scooping necklaces and earrings from the satin-lined interior, placing the gems inside her bodice. Soft music sounded from the box, but Minta didn’t stir. A nugget ring slipped from Suzy’s grasp, hit the floor, and rolled away.

  She opened the trunk at the foot of the bed and sifted through gowns and negligees. Hellfire! Where would Minta hide her gold if not inside her trunk? Suzy knelt and carefully slid her arms beneath the spool bed’s mattress. Pinching the ticking, she felt for any unusual lump.

  “Who’s there? Samuel?”

  Suzy froze in place.

  “Too much champagne,” Minta moaned. “My belly’s in a tumble. Please untie my corset. Hurry, Samuel.”

  Suzy crawled sideways, crab-like, until she reached the dressing table.

  Minta fell back against two plump pillows.

  Suzy waited then crept toward the bed again.

  Minta bolted to a sitting position. “Suzy, is that you?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I heard you call for help.”

  “I’ve been poisoned. Never felt so poorly. Take off my corset. No, better bring the slop jar first.” Minta retched.

  Suzy rose and took a few steps toward the slop jar, but stopped short. I won’t get another chance. In the morning Minta will recollect that I was kneeling by her bed, not entering her room. Tomorrow Samuel will tell Robin about my Madam masquerade and our special fee.

  “Why are you just standing there, Suzy? Fetch the jar and tell Madam Robin to send for the doc—”

  “You’re not poisoned, ma’am. It’s the champagne and laudanum mixing in your belly like a purge.”

  “I didn’t take laudanum. Where’s Samuel?”

  “He’s having himself a joyful time, Miss Minta.”

  “What are you talking about? Leave my
room at once!”

  “No, ma’am. Not until you’ve told me where you hid your gold.”

  “What gold?”

  “The money for your daughter’s schooling. I’ve taken care of her education, so it’s only fair you give over your gold in return.”

  “What did you say? Oh, God, my head and belly hurt. Go ’way, Suzy. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “Where’s your gold hid, Miss Minta?”

  “Bank.”

  “You said you didn’t trust banks. Where’s it hid?” Suzy warned herself not to lose her temper. Rage had led to her duel with Madam Becky. Suzy liked Little Heaven, and without the gold she didn’t care to inflame a rhubarb.

  Everybody had witnessed Minta’s drunken state, so Suzy could deny visiting Minta’s room. She could even disavow her transaction with Peiffer. After all, it was his word against hers. What about the jewelry? She’d plant an earring inside Hummingbird Lou’s room, and swear she’d seen the colored cook lurking upstairs.

  “Get out of my room!” Minta shouted.

  Bitch! Giving orders as if she were Queen of the World. Furious, Suzy ran to the bed, tugged a feather pillow out from under Minta’s curls and held it above her face.

  “Where’s your gold?”

  “That money’s to be spent on Flo. I’ll never tell.”

  “You’ll tell.” Briefly, Suzy pressed the pillow against Minta’s nose and mouth.

  Restricted by her corset, Minta coughed, choked, gagged. “Leave me alone!” she cried. “Why are you doing this? I’ve always been good to you.”

  The pillow descended. Minta struggled weakly.

  “Where’s it hid?” Suzy held the pillow aloft.

  “Don’t . . . please . . . don’t,” Minta panted, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Pillow.”

  “Yes, I’ve got your pillow. Now it’s over your face again. Ain’t the feathers heavy? Feel how they clog your nose. Mercy, Miss Minta, your fingers are pulling at the air like a child waving bye-bye. Do you want to take a breath? The pillow’s gone now. Tell Suzy where the gold’s hid.”

  “Albert.”

  “Who?”

  “Albert, I . . . can’t . . . breathe. Corset’s . . . too . . . tight.”