How the Stars did Fall (17 page)

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Authors: Paul F Silva

BOOK: How the Stars did Fall
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Her appetite satisfied, Olivia wandered into the parlor. She found a seat for herself and tried to imitate the other girls. A musician had taken up his place at the piano, tapping the keys, the music melancholy and dreamlike. Then Ah Toy appeared with her hair brushed and her face painted and powdered, a silken dress clinging to her flesh and atop her head an ivory bowler hat adorned by a single yellow flower. Her gait was slow and uncertain, her feet bound tightly. Then Ah Toy took her place behind the bar, inspecting the glasses and buffing a few of them with a kerchief.

Molly sat opposite Olivia on a sofa with two other girls. All three were dressed in exquisite corsets and long stockings of black and red. One of the girls had on her lap an open humidor lined with thin little cigarillos. Molly examined each one closely, then picked one and placed it in her mouth. Taking a candle, she lit it, the smoke obscuring her face for a moment while she exhaled.

Having inspected the bar, Ah Toy darted back and forth, eyeing each girl, measuring them, and making sure the appointment books were open and ready for new marks.

Moments later the first knock on the door echoed in the parlor. A man entered with a lit cigar bobbing up and down in his mouth, a long brown coat covering him from neck to ankles. He took a seat at the bar and Ah Toy served him a frothing cup of ale and the man sat there drinking and smoking and paying no mind to the women around him. Then more men came. Young and old. Alone and in groups. And they found seats for themselves in the expansive parlor and lounged together drinking and the girls did the same in their own way and the two factions barely crossed each other as if they belonged to rival tribes. This went on until a younger man came in slurring his words, almost tripping on his way to the bar. After ordering whiskey, he whispered something in Ah Toy’s ear.

Soon after, the sound of a ringing bell pierced the night’s haze and the girls, hearing it, put down their cups and stood together in a line in the back of the parlor, Molly among them. Then the drunk young man walked with Ah Toy from one end of the line to the other, all the while looking over each girl from head to toe as if he were inspecting goods for sale. He stopped in front of Molly. The sharp smell of liquor hung around him like some familiar spirit and his leering eyes had a dullness to them that Olivia hated.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Molly.”

He breathed deeply. Then he turned to Ah Toy and said, “I want her.” The drunk young man staggered into one of the rooms behind the bar, Molly right behind him. They were together for mere minutes before Molly came right back out with her corset soiled by vomit.

Seeing this, Ah Toy filled a bucket with water and grabbed a pair of besoms.

“Olivia, come help me,” she said.

Together they wiped the floor, gathering the bile and piling it into the bucket. The whole room smelled of rancid apples. The man was passed out on the bed, but just as soon as Ah Toy had finished cleaning the floor, she fetched her shotgun and, rousing the young man, compelled him to leave through a back door.

The rest of the night went on without incident. At some point, Ah Toy told Olivia to stand behind the bar and wait on the men and she did. Olivia took the drink orders in stride, smiling often, and collecting generous tips from her customers. But several hours into the night, a man walked in whom everyone seemed to recognize and upon whom everyone’s attention fell. He carried a silver cane and behind him a larger gentleman shadowed his every move. He walked in slow, taking the time to look over the room and everyone in it. Instead of sitting in one of the plush chairs or sofas, this man took a seat at the bar. Olivia asked him what he would drink as she had done to all of the others, but he didn’t answer at first. The man, with his graying hair, looked behind, where the larger man stood on watch. The brute nodded to the older man, his employer by all accounts, and the man lifted his cane and laid it out on the bar.

“I’m not thirsty,” he said.

Olivia hesitated, not expecting that reply.

“You are pretty. What’s your name?”

“Olivia.”

“Such a poetic name. It even has an interjection built right in. Oh Livia.”

“Would you like something to drink, sir?”

“You already asked me that.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

The man stared at Olivia, making her uncomfortable. She, in turn, glanced at Ah Toy in a plea for help. But Ah Toy was busy attending to another customer and hadn’t yet noticed the man’s interest in Olivia.

“My name’s Bill. That one over there is called Elton.” Bill pointed at his servant.

“Are you sure you don’t want a drink, sir?”

“I don’t like repeating myself, Olivia.” Bill snarled for a moment and Olivia was reminded of a rabid dog. He reached out and held her hands with his own. Olivia’s nervousness grew.

“How long have you worked here?” he said.

“I started today.”

Her hands moistened while he held them. Bill felt her sweaty palms, encouragement evident on his face and in his manner. He was affecting her and his grip on her hands tightened.

“Do I make you nervous?”

“Very much so.”

Olivia tried to wiggle free but couldn’t find the energy to do much more than shift the position of her hands in his. Her nervousness had grown until all she felt was terror. It took all of her nerve to speak against the man.

“I’m not a working girl. I’m just the bartender.”

“I’m sure you aren’t. To them,” Bill said, motioning with his head towards the other men in the house. “To me, you’re whatever I want you to be.”

Finally, Ah Toy saw the situation Olivia found herself in. She approached the bar and asked politely what the problem was.

“Problem? There’s no problem. Is there a problem, Elton?” Bill asked.

“None whatsoever, sir.”

“Olivia here isn’t available for entertainment, Mr. Barnwell,” Ah Toy said.

“She is entertaining me. And I feel like taking her to the back and making a woman out of her. Perhaps even let Elton here have a taste after I’m done.”

“That would be swell, sir,” Elton said.

Olivia bowed her head in shame at the thought. She could no longer bear to look at the man in front of her, and she tried to free herself from his grasp and finally managed to. Tears wet her face and dripped down over her lips.

“Mr. Barnwell, she’s only a girl. She’s never done anything like this. Could you not spare her?”

“Relax, Lady Ah Toy. I am paying. For the both of us. And since she’s so pristine, I’ll pay double the usual rate.”

Elton brought out a thick stack of paper money and placed it on the counter. Ah Toy didn’t touch it. Olivia still expected Ah Toy would do something to resolve the situation, that there was no way she would be forced to do anything. But Ah Toy just looked at Bill and then at Olivia. At last, she relented, taking the money from the counter and walking away. She even left her post near the entrance, retreating to the back of the parlor, unable to witness what would happen next.

“There you go,” Bill said. He got up from the stool and stretched his arm out, offering his hand to Olivia. “Shall we retire as well?”

There was nowhere to run. Elton waited for her at the end of the bar. She thought about jumping over the counter but Olivia didn’t believe she’d be able to outrun them. Bill took her by the hands and led her deep inside the house, to one of the empty rooms. Elton took a couple of bottles of whiskey from the bar, leaving behind more money, and followed Bill. Olivia felt as though she were being led to her grave. By the time they reached the room and Bill had placed her on the bed, Olivia’s terror had transformed into unbridled rage.

The figures of Bill and Elton pouring whiskey and laughing to each other in drunken revelry blurred together. Olivia heard them as if from a great distance. She imagined a great tidal wave washing over her and these men, cleansing the world of them, and a rumbling swept over the room. The bottles and cups began to vibrate and the water in the men’s drinks shook with Olivia’s rage. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again she found Bill and Elton dripping wet, drenched in their own drinks, the cups shattered, the bottles of whiskey empty and broken.

“She did this,” Bill said.

“Must be some kind of witch,” Elton said.

The men took Olivia by the arms, dragging her out of the room and into the parlor. They found it emptied and they walked right into Ah Toy, holding the shotgun up cocked and ready. When Bill saw her, he erupted in laughter.

“By noon tomorrow every one of you will be dead and this building will be ash,” Bill said.

“Maybe the others are witches, too. Could be a whole coven of them here, right under our noses,” Elton said.

“Let her go and I’ll let you live,” Ah Toy said.

“The penalty for witchcraft is death. This girl is a witch,” Bill said as if speaking to children. Some measure of fear flashed over his face and Ah Toy caught it as one catches a ray of sunlight in between boards of wood. Spittle collected on Bill’s lips and dripped piecemeal onto the ground as he spoke. Olivia’s arms were red where the men held her. Their grip was so tight that she no longer felt much of anything from the tips of her fingers to her elbow.

“A gray stain on the ground. That’s what all of you will be if you don’t let us through,” Bill said.

“Let her go,” Ah Toy said.

Now Elton had his revolver out as well and he pointed it at Olivia’s head.

“Kill us and she goes, too. And others will come for the rest of you. There will be nowhere to hide. No power to keep you from us. Attacking one of us is attacking all of us,” Bill said.

Ah Toy knew it was true. She hesitated, trying her hardest to avoid the final moment when a decision could no longer be put off. Let them go or fire at them, killing them and Olivia too. In those moments, Olivia was prostrated by the force of the men but her mind was unbridled and it rode through the past, seeing those people who were dearest to her and measuring those moments that had brought her the greatest joy. Then she thought of how it had come to be that she was robbed of that joy, and all of that condensed rage made something strange happen once again. The girls in the parlor stared, wide-eyed, as bottle after bottle in the bar burst open, the contents floating above the counter and coalescing into a giant bubble of liquor and beer and wine, its shape constantly shifting in midair.

There was something primordial about the bubble. Its liquid body was held together by an unseen force, forming a transparent skin, like some kind of eye. Its gaze fixed on Bill and Elton. And it crashed down on them with enough force to knock both of them, and Olivia, to the ground. Their weapons were tossed away, wet and useless. And when they opened their eyes, Bill and Elton found the barrel of Ah Toy’s shotgun flashing orange and red.

Ah Toy helped Olivia up and sat her on one of the chairs and brought her some water to drink. The girls huddled around her. Molly spoke first.

“Did you do that? With the liquor?”

“I think so,” Olivia said.

A few of the girls dragged the bodies off to the side. Others cleaned the blood and the liquor off the floor of the parlor. Olivia insisted on helping. Then the girls put the bodies in big burlap bags and wheeled them to the yard at the back of the house. They spent the last few hours before morning digging a pair of graves and burying the dead.

Chapter Thirteen

Once the graves had been filled up, the girls retired and slept but their slumber was interrupted by a great roar in the distance that made the house tremble and shake. Then came another impact and another, like falling meteors, and for a moment Olivia and Molly sat up from their beds frozen, not knowing what to do.

“Let’s go,” Molly said.

Outside they found a city burning and at war. The shells had penetrated several buildings to the south and columns of black smoke rose from them snakelike towards the sun. Members of the city’s militia marched past the girls, white lone stars emblazoned upon their chest, holding rifles and bayonets. And they started to run west, towards the sea, before Olivia stopped.

“Wait,” Olivia said. “What about Ah Toy? The other girls?”

“Are you mad? We need to get away from the shelling.”

“No, we must go back.”

They did go back. Ah Toy’s parlor still stood unblemished, but the girls were all outside in various states of undress, looking up at the sky as if waiting for their doom. There was no time for talk. Molly and Olivia found Ah Toy at the head of the pack and together they herded all of the girls forward towards the sea, hoping their salvation awaited them there.

While they ran another round of artillery fell from the sky, this time closer than before. One of the shells hit a building just ahead of them, and it came alight instantly and the fire grew, its unquenchable hunger consuming the wood, collapsing the columns, and in a matter of seconds the whole structure lay in rubble. A man emerged from one of the crumbling buildings carrying another person, the face a red and enflamed jumble of flesh.

The girls marshaled on. They were close to the sea when they heard the sound of gunfire to the south. Molly told the girls to hide against a wall and she looked toward the sound and saw a party of Union soldiers standing over the corpses of city militiamen. They’d had no chance. One of the soldiers caught sight of Molly while he scavenged the dead. Molly noticed and retreated but it was too late. The whole party pursued her.

The rest of the girls saw Molly running and the soldiers coming up behind her and they needed no further encouragement or explanation. They marched past bewildered families, abandoned saloons, barking dogs, and even some more men of the city militia. The soldiers followed and when they came upon these pockets of resistance their rifles flashed at them, dropping the Good Man’s men with little difficulty. Their pursuit of the girls continued, their teeth bared while they ran, their rifles held up to their chest, a ravenous sharpness to their eyes.

The girls ran all the way to the wharf at the western end of the city, where military steamships idled over the waters. The ocean was the end of the line and the girls huddled up close together. But they knew they would not be able to resist for long. In a matter of seconds the soldiers were upon them like a pack of hunters, their bayonets raised and pointed forward. One of the soldiers promised that they would allow the girls to live if they submitted. But before anyone could answer him, a series of explosions blasted all around the city, buildings bursting into flame. This distracted some of them but a few could not be driven away from the girls.

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