A Proper Pursuit (47 page)

“Yes … Miss Hayes and I are acquainted,” Silas finally said.

“Look, I’ll get right to the point. I need a loan, and for reasons that I’d rather not explain, I can’t go to a bank. It would be a shortterm loan, but I’d need the money by Friday night. Can you put me in touch with someone?”

“Possibly. Why don’t you sit down, Mr. Kent?” He gestured to the chair beside mine and then sat down across from us on the sofa. “I’ll be blunt, Mr. Kent. Most men of your obvious wealth don’t go around asking for loans unless they’re in trouble. I’ll wager it’s a gambling problem—am I right?”

“It’s none of your business. Can you arrange a loan or not?”

“I’ll need a few details about the casino first.”

Nelson’s gray pallor returned. He looked even worse than when I had arrived at his house. He ran his hands through his hair and leaned forward in his chair, staring at the floor as if he might need to vomit.

“Go ahead and tell him,” I urged. “What do you have to lose?”

Nelson exhaled. “It’s a private game in a rented hall at the World’s Fair. By invitation only.”

“Hmm. I heard rumors that there was a game going on there… . Let me guess—at first you lost, but then your luck changed and you won back all the money you’d lost and a little bit more. But it was closing time.”

“That’s right,” I said. “How did you know?”

“That’s the scam, Miss Hayes. The dealers can spot someone who’s desperate a mile away. They’ll let you win a little money so you’ll come back another night and play for even bigger stakes. I gotta tell you, Mr. Kent—you’d be a fool to gamble away any more money at that place if it isn’t legitimate.”

“Look, I don’t need a lecture,” Nelson said. “Can you help me get a loan or not? I’ll take my chances on winning. I have to.”

“I’ll tell you what.” Silas leaned forward, his manner surprisingly sympathetic. “I have a friend who knows a thing or two about rigged games and weighted dice and marked cards. We’ll meet you at this place, and he can check it out for you before you lose any more money.”

“I told you it’s private. Invitation only.”

“Just get us in, okay? If my friend says they’re not scamming, then we’ll talk about a loan. Why throw away more of your money—not to mention a loan shark’s—at high interest rates? Can you get us in?”

Nelson hesitated.

“I think you’d better take his advice,” I told him. “What if you borrow money and lose it?”

“Okay, fine,” Nelson said. “Just bring the money with you. And wear a tuxedo, if you can get one. The game is for high rollers only.”

We all agreed. Nelson would pick me up on Friday night, and we would meet Silas and his friend at the fair.

“Tell me where I can find Katya,” Nelson said as soon as we climbed back into his carriage.

“I think you need to decide a few things first. Don’t lead her on, Nelson, if you have no intention of marrying her. It isn’t fair to her. And you need to figure out how your marriage is going to work since you come from such different backgrounds. Katya doesn’t know all the social rules that you take for granted. She would never survive the scrutiny of your grandmother and her friends. They would never accept her. And what are you going to do about Katya’s family? Are you going to ask her to give them up along with all of her traditions? Would you be comfortable with her family, visiting their home, eating their food?”

“I told you, I don’t know what to do. How do I separate my duty and loyalty to my family from my right to live my own life?”

“I’m sure your family only wants what’s best for you. They’re thinking of all the problems you would face if you made a bad choice.”

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I recalled my father saying something very similar to me. He wanted to prevent me from making a huge mistake and being hurt, as he had been.

“Why is it any of their business whom I marry?” Nelson asked.

I started to reply when I suddenly thought of Murderous Maude. I had been intent on preventing Father from marrying her, but was it any of my business whom he married? If I didn’t want my father to choose a partner for me, what right did I have to choose one for him?

“If you decide to marry her, Nelson, I’ll help you. I can teach Katya proper manners and social customs and things like that. It’s all an act anyway, isn’t it? But you’ll have to be prepared to make it through life on your own, without any money from your father—and not from gambling either. So how badly do you want her?”

“I love her, Violet.”

I believed him.

And I envied him.

As soon as I arrived home, I wrote a letter to Katya, inviting her to come home with my grandmother on Friday afternoon. I assured her that she could trust me. I asked Grandmother to deliver the message to Katya when she went to the settlement house tomorrow morning.

As for my own problems, I was nearly out of time.

Chapter

32

Thursday, July 13, 1893

I
had agreed to meet Louis in the theater district on Thursday afternoon. Mr. Moody was holding a rally there, and I wanted to ask the theater manager for advice on finding my mother. Once again, I wasn’t quite courageous enough to venture downtown alone to an unknown part of Chicago, so I dragged Aunt Birdie along as my companion. Louis was waiting in front of the theater with our tickets, pacing nervously and checking his pocket watch as hundreds of people streamed past him into the auditorium.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” I told him. “I stopped to read all of the show bills we passed, hoping to see my mother’s name on one of them, but I didn’t see it.”

“That’s okay, but we’d better hurry.” I introduced Louis to Aunt Birdie as we shuffled into the lobby with the crowd.

“I’m afraid we won’t have much time to talk to the theater manager,” Louis said. “The rally is about to begin, and I have responsibilities backstage.”

“I understand. I just need to ask him a few questions. It shouldn’t take long.”

“And after Mr. Moody preaches, it’ll be my job to pray with the people who come forward for the altar call.”

“Okay.” I had no idea what he was talking about.

“Just wait in your seats after the rally ends, and I’ll find you,” he promised.

“Oh, how nice!” Aunt Birdie said when we walked into the ornately decorated theater. I thought it was an outrageously elegant setting for a religious rally, with gilded woodwork, an elaborately painted ceiling, and maroon velvet seats, but I kept my thoughts to myself.

“Are we seeing one of Mr. Shakespeare’s plays?” Aunt Birdie asked.

“It isn’t a play, Aunt Birdie. We’re here for a church service.”

“Well, that’s odd.”

“Yes … well …” I didn’t quite understand it myself, so how could I explain it to her?

Louis found our two seats along one of the aisles in the rapidly filling hall, and I left Aunt Birdie there while we hurried away to talk to the theater manager. My hair grew faster than she moved, and I didn’t have the time or the patience to tow her any farther.

The backstage area resembled an anthill, with people darting around chaotically, shouting last-minute orders about lighting and curtains. Choir members milled around as they tried to find their places and their music. The male soloist sounded like Marley’s ghost as he warmed up, moaning his way up and down the scale with eeriesounding “Ohhs” and “Ooohs.”

We found the theater manager sitting behind a desk in his tiny office, calmly reading a newspaper. “How can I help you?” he asked after Louis introduced me.

“I’m trying to find my mother. She’s an actress. Her name is Angeline Hayes, but she might also go by the name Angeline Cepak.” I had written down the names for him on a piece of paper, and I handed it to him.

“Sorry. Never heard of her. Do you know which show she’s in?”

“No, I’m not even sure she’s in a show at the moment, just that she’s an actress.”

He tossed the paper onto his cluttered desktop. “Look, we’ve got people running all around town thinking they want to act. Most of them never end up in the business at all.”

“Well, if she is in the business, then someone must know her, right? How would I go about finding her? Is there a list of actresses somewhere?”

“I don’t know of any list.” He must have seen my disappointment— or perhaps the tears that filled my eyes, threatening to spill over—because his manner suddenly softened. “Look, Miss Hayes. If I were you I’d hang a notice in all the places where they’re holding auditions. Maybe she’ll see it. Or maybe another actor who knows her will see it. And it wouldn’t hurt to offer a reward. There’re plenty of actors on the lookout for their next dollar.”

“I see. Well, thank you for your help.” I turned to Louis as soon as we left the office. “I don’t have time to post notices in every theater. There must be dozens of them. My father is coming the day after tomorrow. And I don’t have any money for a reward either.”

“I guess it just wasn’t the Lord’s will that you find her,” Louis said. “I’m sorry, Violet.”

“Hey, Louis,” someone shouted. “Come on, we need you.”

“I have to go, Violet. Can you find your way back to your seat all right? I’ll meet you there afterward and take you home.”

I was deep in thought as I wandered back out to the auditorium, wondering how I could hang posters in at least a few of Chicago’s theaters before my father arrived on Saturday. I could list my grandmother’s name and address as the person to contact. Hadn’t she told me that she was searching for my mother too?

By now, nearly everyone in the audience had found their places. I hurried up the aisle before the lights dimmed—and found two empty seats. Aunt Birdie was gone.

Panic gripped me as I quickly scanned the theater. I couldn’t breathe. Why had I left her alone? What was I thinking? Several hundred people filled the huge auditorium. Hundreds more filled the balcony. How would I ever find her? I turned to the people in the row behind mine.

“Excuse me. D-did you see my aunt? She’s an older woman … w-with her hair in a bun and a dreamy smile on her face. I left her sitting right here.”

“I saw her get up,” the woman said. “I think she went that way.” She pointed behind her toward the rear auditorium doors.

Oh, God, help me!
I prayed as I raced up the aisle. “Aunt Birdie!” I called. “Aunt Birdie, where are you?”

People turned to stare at me, scowling at my rudeness. I didn’t bother to beg their pardon. My voice grew louder and louder as my panic escalated. I knew I looked foolish running in useless circles, shouting her name, but I didn’t care. I had to find my aunt. One of the ushers hurried over to me as the house lights dimmed.

“Miss, you have to stop shouting and take your seat. The program is about to begin.”

“Please help me. I lost my aunt! She’s an older woman with a gray dress and she wears her hair in a bun—and I have to find her!”

“Have you tried the lobby? Or the ladies’ room?”

The ushers closed the auditorium doors behind me as I raced out to the lobby, calling her name. She wasn’t there. One usher pointed to the ladies’ room and I ran inside, my voice echoing in the empty space.

“Aunt Birdie? Aunt Birdie, are you in here?”

She wasn’t. I could no longer hold back my tears as I ran out to the lobby again. That’s when I began to bargain with God.

Please … I’ll stop looking for my mother. I’ll gladly welcome Maude
and her children into our family … I’ll even marry Louis Decker, if that’s
what you want. Anything! Just please, please, help me find Aunt Birdie
.

I could hear the muffled sound of applause inside the auditorium. Across the lobby from me, the doors to the street stood open. I ran outside, praying that she hadn’t walked in front of a streetcar.

“Aunt Birdie!”

Pedestrians crowded the sidewalk, calmly going about their affairs, oblivious to my distress, while traffic streamed in both directions on the bustling thoroughfare.

“Aunt Birdie!”

Madame Beauchamps would have been horrified to hear me shouting like a fishmonger on a busy Chicago street, but I didn’t care. How could I ever face my grandmother? How could I tell her that I’d lost her sister?

Please, God!

That’s when I noticed a commotion down the block in the middle of the street. Traffic had halted, and people were craning their necks to see what was going on. I ran out into the middle of it all, certain that a team of horses had trampled poor Aunt Birdie. I pleaded with God to spare her life.

And there she was in the middle of the road, hugging a policeman who had been directing traffic.

“Ma’am … ma’am …” he pleaded as he tried to pry off her arms. “You have to let go of me, ma’am. You’re obstructing traffic.” I wept with relief as I ran to her.

“Your family must be so glad to see you safely home from the war,” I heard Aunt Birdie say. “My husband, Gilbert, is fighting in Virginia to help free the slaves. Is that where you were fighting?”

“Ma’am, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you have to let go of me.”

“Aunt Birdie!” I called. “Thank God I found you!” She released the policeman to give me a hug. I had never been so happy to feel her arms around me. “I’m so sorry for the disturbance,” I told the policeman.