Bad Grrlz' Guide to Reality: The Complete Novels Wild Angel and Adventures in Time and Space with Max Merriwell (36 page)

Sarah frowned at her reflection. She was puzzled by Audrey’s enthusiasm for the dress, but she was willing to endure it for a time to make Audrey happy.

She turned away from the mirror. Rustling with each step, she walked over to where Audrey had tossed her old clothes. Such a ridiculous garment, she thought. It seemed designed to be as noisy and awkward as possible. Sarah squatted and found her belt in the tangle of clothing.

“What are you doing, Sarah?” Audrey asked. “What could you possibly want…oh,” Audrey was staring at the knife. “I don’t think you’ll need that.”

Sarah frowned, strapping the belt around her waist. “I always need my knife,” she said, in a tone that allowed no room for argument.

Audrey studied her for a moment, then shrugged. “That’s fine,” she said. “I don’t suppose it matters.”

“…there ain’t nothing more to write about, and I am rotten glad of it, because if I’d a knowed what a trouble it was to make a book I wouldn’t a tackled it and ain’t agoing to no more.”

—
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
; Mark Twain

T
HE PERFORMANCE WENT WELL
until Act Five. At that point, things got a little out of hand.

Sarah sat between Max and Audrey, watching carefully as the play unfolded. Even though Helen had explained it to her beforehand, it was all a little confusing. Helen was Mary Wilson; Miss Paxon was her widowed mother, and Cassidy was the reckless, but basically good-hearted Edward Middleton. There was another man that Sarah did not know. The Professor had hired him to be the wicked Lawyer Cribbs.

They all walked around the barn, talking loudly and pretending that they were places that they weren’t. “Here in our humble home,” Helen said—but she wasn’t in her home, she was in a barn, and people were calling her Mary.

Lawyer Cribbs leered at Helen as he tried to evict her and her widowed mother from their humble home. Cassidy (though everyone called him Edward) upset this evil plan and won Helen’s heart with a ringing affirmation that womanly virtue, not beauty, holds captive the hearts of men.

Sarah thought that the wedding scene between Helen and Cassidy was quite convincing. They liked holding hands; she knew that. But during that scene, Lawyer Cribbs threatened the happy couple: “I shall see them begging for their bread yet. The wife on her bended knees to me, praying for a morsel of food for her starving children. It will be revenge. Revenge!”

Sarah watched him carefully. She did not like that man. She could tell that Helen did not like him either. The audience hissed at him whenever he made one of his speeches. He reminded Sarah of Marek—a bully and a coward.

Helen stood in the center of the barn, staring defiantly at Lawyer Cribbs, played by Nathaniel Evans. Edward, her hapless husband, had sunk to the depths of drunkenness and depravity, and the evil lawyer had sought out the heroine with lust in mind.

It was easy enough for Helen to feign terror and disgust. Evans’s breath reeked of liquor. A professional actor, Evans had recently completed a weeklong engagement at the Nevada City Theatre, performing a one-man show consisting of monologues from Shakespeare. He had bellowed his way through the first half of the play, bringing the fury of King Lear to Butterfield’s barn. Now he towered over her, his fist raised against her. He thundered the line, “Nay, then, proud beauty, you shall know my power!”

She took a step back, preparing to deliver her defiant speech, when Helen heard something behind her—the rustling of skirts, the thunder of bare feet on the wooden floor. Then Evans was tumbling backward, propelled by a healthy shove from Sarah, who had rammed her shoulder into his soft belly. The wild girl interposed herself between Helen and Evans. Sarah, Helen realized, had come to rescue her friend.

Sarah held Arno’s knife in her hand. Her blue eyes blazed in the lanternlight. She grinned at Evans, a wolfish grin that showed her teeth. “No,” she said. “She won’t do what you say.”

For a moment, the theater was silent, then the audience erupted with cheers and applause. They thought, Helen realized, that it was part of the show. Sarah ignored the outburst, her eyes fixed on the man who was scrambling to his feet.

Helen only had a moment to think. She looked into the audience and spotted Audrey, watching the stage with an expression of disbelief.

“Sarah!” Helen cried out, her voice cracking. “Sarah, my…my cousin. Yes, Sarah, my sweet cousin and dear friend.” She took a deep breath. “You…you…you left us many years ago to travel in the West.” At the edge of the ring, the Professor was nodding in frantic approval, giving Helen the courage to continue with her improvisation. “But now,” she said, “but now you have returned in my hour of greatest need.”

Sarah glanced back at her, clearly baffled by Helen’s theatrical tone. “Should I kill him?” she asked, gesturing at Evans.

The man had regained his feet. He swayed unsteadily, blinking out at the audience. His attention was torn between the audience and the flashing knife in Sarah’s hand. Clearly, he could not decide: remain on stage as part of what was clearly a hit or flee the gleaming blade and the madwoman who talked so coolly of killing him. The audience won. He fell to his knees and bellowed, “Mercy.”

“He cries for mercy and we must spare him,” Helen said. “Why?” Sarah asked, her eyes still on the kneeling man. “He is a bad man.”

Helen stepped to Sarah’s side and took hold of her hand in a tight grip. “Because… because that’s what civilized people do.”

Sarah frowned. “I am not civilized,” she said, and the audience cheered.

A drunken miner in the front row shouted, “You tell ’em. Neither are we.”

Helen maintained her grip on Sarah’s hand. “We will not stoop to his level. He is a fool and a drunken lout, made wicked by the influence of the demon whiskey. Whiskey steals men’s minds and hardens their hearts.” Helen was warming up now. That last was taken directly from a Temperance pamphlet, and she delivered it with confidence. Helen did not give Sarah another opportunity to argue. “I would not have your innocent hands stained with his blood.”

“You have saved me from a dreadful fate,” Helen said, thinking desperately about the rest of the play. In the next act, Edward was supposed to take the Temperance Pledge. Then the play ended with a charming tableau. Mary was back in her sweet cottage, Edward was sober and reading the Bible, and they all sang “Home Sweet Home.” Somehow, Helen could not quite see how she could work Sarah and her knife into that tableau.

“I am so happy to see you again, my friend,” Helen went on. She could see Cassidy standing by the Professor, conferring feverishly. He looked up and met her eye, pointing at himself. “My only wish is that Edward were here to see you, too. It would make his heart glad.”

With that, Cassidy rushed onto the floor. “Begone, old man,” he shouted at Evans. He turned to Sarah and placed his hand over Helen’s, taking a firm grip on the hand in which Sarah held the knife. “My beloved friend and my beloved wife,” he cried. “I have taken the pledge.” Sarah frowned at him as he delivered an abbreviated version of his speech on the evils of drink. “And now the time has come for us to go! We will leave this place and go to California to seek our fortune!”

The fiddler that the Professor had hired for the occasion struck up a chorus of “Bound for the Promised Land,” the tune they had prepared for the final scene. The Professor urged Ruby onto the floor. She would serve as transportation to California.

Ruby stepped into the ring and knelt beside Helen. Helen waved to the crowd as she mounted the great beast. Sarah looked baffled, but followed Helen’s lead.

As the crowd sang, Ruby circled the barn, waving her trunk to the crowd. “Smile and wave,” Helen whispered to Sarah. “Just smile and wave.”

Sarah did her best to follow orders. They made a spectacular exit, then returned for curtain calls. All in all, it was a bang-up success.

“Thank you. I really have no idea whether we will repeat the performance,” Helen told the journalist, a bushy-haired fellow who seemed quite full of himself. He had found her and Cassidy tending to Ruby. The Professor had conveniently absented himself, heading for Selby’s Hotel. She and Cassidy had been having an interesting conversation about love, when this man had come along and insisted on interviewing her. “The last act was improvised entirely. But I truly like it better than the original. I think Sarah’s instinct to attack that nasty man was exactly right.” Helen glanced at Cassidy. “I wonder where Audrey and Sarah have gotten to?” she asked him.

“Back to the hotel, I imagine,” he said.

“Well, Mr. …I’m sorry. I’ve forgotten your name,” Helen said.

“Clemens,” said the journalist. “Samuel Clemens.”

“Oh, yes. Well, Mr. Clemens, I strongly suggest that you talk with the Professor about his plans for the production.”

She watched the young man head off in the direction of the hotel, then she turned to Cassidy and smiled. “I believe we were talking about love,” she said.

Max and Audrey took a seat in the back of the bar at Selby’s Hotel. The bar was crowded with Clampers who had come to the performance and were continuing the celebration with much drinking and revelry. “I wonder where Sarah has gotten to,” Audrey murmured.

“I’m sure she’s with Helen,” Max said.

He hailed Mr. Selby and requested two glasses of sherry, but watching the man disappear into the crowd Max had little hope that he would return.

He had to talk to Audrey. He needed to tell her of his discovery that Helen was his daughter. And that revelation required him to tell her of his former profession as a counterfeiter. He had been meaning to talk to Audrey about that, really he had, but the time had never seemed quite right. And of course, he wanted to tell her how much she meant to him.

He fidgeted with his sherry glass nervously. “I’m glad we have some time together,” he said. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” He hesitated, searching for words. He should tell her about Helen first, he thought, and then about his past. Or should he do it the other way around? “There are some things I need to tell you,” he said, speaking loudly to be heard over the noise of the Clampers.

Her eyes were such a beautiful blue. So warm and sweet in the yellow glow of the oil lamps.

“What sorts of things?” she asked. Her voice was warm and encouraging.

“I need to tell you about my past,” he began. “We know each other very well, I think, after writing so many letters. But there are some things you should know about me.” He reached out and took her hand in his.

Her eyes widened in shock. The Clampers erupted in shouting and applause. He could not hear what she said—the shouting of Clampers drowned her words. But he read her lips. It’s the elephant,” she said.

Max turned to follow her gaze. The Clampers had thrown wide the double doors that led into the street, and Ruby was strolling through, following Professor Serunca.

For a time, there was no hope of conversation. The Clampers were toasting the Professor, and the Professor was toasting the Clampers. Ruby was joining in, with earsplitting trumpeting.

About that time, Mrs. Selby slipped out from behind the bar, clutching a bottle of sherry and two glasses. Handing Max the bottle, she took Audrey’s arm. Making no attempt to speak above the din, she led Audrey from the room. Max followed, grateful for Mrs. Selby’s intervention.

She took them down the hall. “Goodness,” she said, opening the door to the parlor that adjoined the rooms that she and Mr. Selby shared. “I think you’d be better off here than in all that noise.” Max could still hear the Clampers shouting, the elephant trumpeting, but the noise was muffled by the walls that separated the parlor from the bar.

“Thank you, Mrs. Selby,” he said.

Smiling, Mrs. Selby lit the oil lamps and made sure they were comfortable. It seemed to Max that she gave Audrey a knowing look, but that could have been his imagination. She took the bottle of sherry from Max and poured a glass for each of them.

“I’m sure you need a glass to calm your nerves,” she said. “It was such an exciting performance. And the perfect ending, I thought.” Then she swept out to help in the bar, leaving the couple alone.

Max took a deep breath, but before he could speak, Audrey was saying, “You know, I’ve been thinking about what happens next,” she said. “I’ve been thinking that perhaps I will write another book.”

Max nodded. “A new book? Another book of poetry. That sounds like a fine idea.” He sipped his sherry, trying to think of how he might reintroduce the topic of his past.

“Not poetry,” she said. “A book of adventures.” Her eyes were sparkling; her face was animated. She set her glass of sherry down on the table by the sofa and leaned forward, taking Max’s hand in hers. “The ending was wonderful, because the women leave to go and have an adventure in California. I want to see women off having adventures. So I’ve decided I will write my niece’s story.
Sarah of the Wolves, the Wild Angel of the Gold Fields
. A story of adventure and redemption, in which a tender child makes her way through the wilderness, triumphing over evil.” She smiled brilliantly. “You’ll have to help me with it, Max. You were a part of it all. An upstanding citizen, trying to save the innocent from the perils of an evil world.”

An upstanding citizen? Max shook his head, thinking of his past.

She frowned. “Oh, don’t shake your head, Max. You underestimate your appeal as a character. This will be a tale of intrigue and adventure,” she said. “At every moment, the reader will be asking—‘What happens next?”’

It was an excellent question, he thought. “You must listen to me, Audrey,” he said. “I have to tell you…”

“Papa?” Helen burst through the door in a flurry that made the oil lamps flicker. She was smiling, and her cheeks were bright. “I have the most wonderful news. Cassidy…” She glanced up at Cassidy, who had followed her through the door. “Cassidy has something to ask you.”

Cassidy was holding his hat in his hands. He spoke with careful dignity. “I have come to ask the hand of your daughter in marriage. I am only a poor juggler, but I know that I can make her happy.”