The Iron Dragon Never Sleeps (2 page)

Winnie took a last look down. She tried to imagine herself being lowered down the cliff. Just the thought made her head spin.

“Come on, Winnie,” said Mrs. Tucker. “It’s time to go.”

Chinese workers must be very brave
, thought Winnie as she followed her mother back on board.

C
ISCO WASN’T
S
ACRAMENTO.
That much Winnie realized at once. There were no three-story hotels. There were no wooden sidewalks. The one wide street was lined with low buildings that looked as if they would blow over in a stiff wind.

I don’t think Rose and Julia are missing much
, thought Winnie. She had hoped Cisco would feel like a frontier town, a place of adventure. At first glance it just looked small.

“I don’t see Papa,” said Mrs. Tucker, looking from the platform to the street.

They looked inside the station. The waiting room was filled with benches and a potbellied stove. The Stationmaster was just filling the oil lamps by the door.

Flap Jack sneaked up behind him.

“Bert, you old pickax!”

“Flap Jack, you old grizzly! You look as poor as ever. How was the trip?”

Flap Jack winked at Winnie. “Bert, I’ve ridden burros that bucked less. The ride wasn’t a total loss, though. I met up with the Tuckers.”

“Eli Tucker’s family?” said Bert. “How do you do, ma’am? Eli told me you were coming. He should be here directly.”

“I saw a general store, Mama,” said Winnie. “Can we go in there while we’re waiting?”

“You go ahead,” said her mother. “I’ll wait outside. I don’t want Papa to miss us.”

Winnie found the general store to be true to its name. It sold a little bit of everything. There were stores like this in Sacramento, thought Winnie, but they were bigger and had more of a selection. Here the goods were put closer together with little attention paid to the display.

Up at the counter two miners were picking out some pots and a woman was inspecting a bolt of cloth. Winnie’s eyes, though, were drawn to two large jars on a nearby counter. One was filled with licorice; the other with peppermints.

Winnie walked up to the jars and tapped the glass. The peppermint was a sea of red swirls. The licorice was black.

“It is a hard choice, yes?”

On the other side of the jars stood a Chinese boy, a Celestial. Everyone called the Chinese Celestials because they called their home in China the Celestial Kingdom.

The boy was no bigger than she was, but she was tall for her ten years. Still, he looked older. She could tell that from his expression. He was wearing a blue cotton shirt, the kind all the Celestials wore. His black hair was long, and tied in the traditional pigtail. It was not hanging down his back, though, the way Chinese men wore it in San Francisco. It was coiled around his head.

Winnie had never seen a Celestial up this close before. She stared at his face, especially his eyes. They didn’t really slant, she thought. They just came to more of a point at both ends.

The boy was waiting for an answer.

“Um, yes,” said Winnie. “It is a hard choice. Licorice is sweet and stretchy. But peppermint tastes like winter in your mouth.”

“Winter in your mouth,” the boy repeated. He thought it over.

“Hey, boy! Aren’t you finished yet?”

The storekeeper had come around from behind the other counter. His hands sat sharply on his hips.

“Hurry up, China boy! The railroad isn’t paying you to stand around bothering my customers.”

The Celestial bowed slightly. “I need a bowl, please. Metal. This wide.” He held up his hands.

The storekeeper snorted. “You panning for gold?”

The boy shook his head. “No, no, it is for cooking.”

“Oh, right … for that foolish peanut oil.” He pointed to a far corner. “Pots and pans are over there.”

Winnie took a step back. She wondered what the boy had done earlier to make the storekeeper so mad.

The storekeeper turned to her with his best smile. “He won’t be bothering you anymore, miss. Now, how can I help you?”

“Um, just some licorice, thank you.”

She took out her money.

“Winnie, he’s coming!” her mother called from the doorway.

Winnie ran out just as Eli Tucker pulled up in a buckboard.

He turned toward the general store.

“Afternoon, ladies,” he said, tipping his hat. “I do believe I’ve found the two prettiest women in this fair city.”

He jumped down from the wagon.

“Oh, Papa,” Winnie said, giggling. She ran forward
to give him a hug. His beard had more gray in it than she remembered.

He returned her hug and looked up at her mother. “I’m sorry I’m late, Marjorie. It’s been an upside-down day.”

Winnie smiled. That was her father’s way of describing a day when nothing went right.

“The powder got wet somehow,” he went on. “We had to wait for some nitroglycerin. Then we had to make a new hole for the nitro. And then …” He smiled sheepishly. “You don’t really want to hear all this, do you?”

“I’m just glad to hear your voice,” said Marjorie. She came forward to join in the family hug.

Eli Tucker looked down at Winnie. “Your hair’s as blond as ever. And I see you’ve been eating those growing pills again.” He grinned. “So how was the train ride? How long did it take?”

“Only six hours. There was a lot to see.”

Her father laughed. “You have to look fast when you’re averaging fifteen miles an hour.” He took a deep breath and looked around. “So, what do you think of Cisco?”

“I just got here, Papa.” She looked around again. “But there’s not much of it to think about.”

Her father laughed. “You can’t say I didn’t warn you.” He lifted the bags into the wagon. “And I haven’t seen any children hereabouts. But come on,
let’s get you settled in. Nothing but the best for you, Winnie. Swanson’s Rooming House is the finest lodging establishment in Cisco.”

Marjorie laughed. “As I recall, Eli, it’s the only lodging establishment in Cisco.”

Her husband smiled. “Now that you mention it, that may be true.”

“I’m hungry,” said Winnie. She pointed to the railroad eating house beside the depot. “Are we going to eat there?”

“Certainly not!” said her father. “They charge fifty cents for a meal. Can you believe that? Only kings and presidents and folks who don’t know any better eat there. For fifty cents you can eat all day at Swanson’s.”

On their way to the rooming house they passed a mountain mud wagon. The Chinese boy from the general store was sitting in the back. He held up some peppermints for her to see.

Winnie just looked away. If this boy was trouble, she wanted nothing to do with him.

W
HEN
W
INNIE WOKE
up the next morning, it took her a moment to remember where she was. Her room at home had flowered wallpaper and three sunny windows. This room was painted green. And the one window didn’t let in much light.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” she called out.

Her father walked in. “Good morning,” he said. “I hope you slept well.” He glanced out the window. “Not much to see. There’s no garden like at home.”

Winnie gave him a hug. “I didn’t come here for a garden, Papa. I came here for you.”

He pushed a strand of hair away from her face.
“Then you should be more careful to keep this out of your eyes.”

“Oh, Papa …”

He smiled. “So, what do you have planned for today?”

Winnie’s eyes opened wide. “I’d like to go in the tunnel with you.”

Her father sighed. “Now, Winnie, you know that’s not possible. We can’t have girls wandering around, getting in the way.”

“You’d let me go if I was a boy.”

“Maybe so. But you’re not a boy, and that’s that.”

Winnie sighed.

Her father scratched his beard. “Anyway, I have a surprise for you.”

Winnie perked up again. “You do? What is it?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise. You’ll find out after breakfast.”

Winnie never remembered afterward whether that morning’s cornmeal mush was any good. But her father made her eat it all. After she was done, he led her to the livery stable.

A horse was waiting in a stall.

“Goodness, Papa!”

“He’s yours to ride while you’re here. His name is Handsome. His owner says he has a high opinion of himself.”

Winnie patted Handsome’s mane. “Well, he should. Thank you, Papa.”

Her father cleared his throat. “Remember, not too much galloping till you learn your way around. And watch out for snakes. And don’t go near the tracks. The men have more than enough to do without worrying about an audience. As for the—”

“Papa, really!”

He grinned. “I guess you get the idea. Just be careful.”

“Yes, Papa. I will.”

Winnie and Handsome spent a lot of time exploring. In some places they found rocks jutting from the ground like the bare knuckles of a hand. In others the trees grew so close together the branches made a canopy over Winnie’s head.

Toward the end of the week Winnie and Handsome came upon a crew from the railroad. Hundreds of men were filling a ravine with dirt. Some were busy shoveling. Others carted the dirt from one place to another. The faces of the men were mostly hidden under wide basket hats. Winnie knew that only the Celestials wore them.

The man in charge was a tall, bearded man bellowing out orders. He stalked up and down the line, prodding people to work faster.

The Celestials, she noticed, cringed at his approach.

Winnie noticed that several workers were not digging or carrying dirt. Instead they carried around small kegs on poles on their shoulders. They walked among the others, stopping whenever someone wanted a drink from the keg.

One of the keg carriers removed his hat briefly to wipe his forehead.

I know him
, thought Winnie. It was the boy from the general store, the one who had bought the peppermints.

“Morning, miss.”

One of the riding bosses had ridden up in front of her.

“Saw you up here on the ridge. Wondered what your business was.”

“I—I’m Winnie Tucker. My father—Eli Tucker—works for the railroad. Maybe you know him? He warned me about getting too close, but I didn’t think I was in the way up here.”