Coming Up Roses (2 page)

“
And we’ve got to see the Midway
Plaisance, too,” Sam said, looking too innocent for H.L.’s
credulity to swallow. “We’ve been here three days in a row and
haven’t set foot there yet.”

Lots of folks arrived at the Exposition via
its street entrance at the

Midway, but H.L. and Sam had decided to take
the scenic route from downtown Chicago. They’d come on a steamboat,
and landed at the pier. H.L. figured he might alter his route one
of these days, but the steamer was such a peaceful way to ride.

“
You just want to see Little Egypt,” he
said with a knowing grin

“
I do not! Anyhow, she’s part of the
Middle-Eastern exhibition, so when we go there, we’ll have to see
her. That dance of hers is a cultural experience, H.L.”

It amused H.L. when Sam, in spite of the
sober and dignified expression on his face, blushed. “Sure, Sam.
I’ll buy that one if you’ll buy a bridge from me.”

“
Dash it, H.L., that’s not
fair.”

“
Right.” H.L. shook his head. Lordy,
when a fellow tied the knot, his life truly ended. H.L. would
rather shoot himself and get it over with all at once than die a
slow death via the tortures of matrimony.

“
Crumbs, H.L.,” Sam muttered after a
pregnant pause, “I’m taking Daisy and the kids to the fair next
week. I can’t very well see Little Egypt with Daisy and the kids,
can I?”

“
Guess not.” H.L. stuck his hands in
his pockets and started to whistle. God, he loved his
life!

“
Whoo, will you look at that! I don’t
think I’ll ever get tired of seeing it.” Sam’s voice held
awe.

As well it might. The backers of this World’s
Fair had done a magnificent job of turning a swamp into a
fairgrounds. H.L. was impressed as all get-out as he gazed at the
Grand Basin, the huge reflecting pool in the center of the Court of
Honor. A elaborate fountain and a gilded statue of the Republic,
complete with scepter and orb, resided in the Basin. It was truly
an extraordinary sight.

“
You know, Sam, all of this is so
fascinating, I’m not sure I even care about seeing the Wild West,”
H.L. said as he entered the Machinery Hall and stared at the
435,500-square-foot room. It was crammed to the ceiling with
exhibits ranging from book-folding machines to knitting machines,
to gigantic hydraulic engines. “I’ve never seen anything like
this.”

Sam, also stunned by the enormity and
magnificence of the Machinery Hall, whispered reverently, “That’s
the whole point, H.L. Nobody has.”

# # #

Mrs. Frank Butler, better known to her many
admirers as Annie Oakley—although she’d started out in life as
Phoebe Ann Moses—shuffled through a deck of cards, sorting out the
various aces, sevens, tens, and other cards with appropriate
suit-marks in their centers. During her sharpshooting performance,
she’d shoot out the center pips. The cards, thus decorated by
“Little Sure Shot,” Sitting Bull’s honorary name for her, would be
sold later to Wild West attendees.

Annie’s white poodle, George, snored on an
embroidered pillow at Annie’s feet. Annie used George in her act
with the Wild West sometimes. George had a remarkably phlegmatic
personality for a poodle and never shied away from the sound of
gunfire.

Rose Gilhooley, who considered Mrs. Butler
her very best friend in the whole Wild West show, if not the entire
world, was helping Annie sort cards. “I don’t know why they didn’t
let Colonel Cody set up inside the Exposition. Doesn’t seem fair to
me.”

The late spring day was fine, and the two
ladies were working in Annie’s big tent, which had been set up for
her for her use during the run of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West. The
Sioux attached to the show had constructed a small village for
themselves, and dozens of other tents

housed the rest of the 600 members of the
cast and crew that traveled with the Wild West. A herd of buffalo
and a herd of horses also traveled with the show, and were pastured
near the tent villages. Cody’s entourage included a stagecoach, a
veritable arsenal of firearms, pounds of blank ammunition, dozens
of mules, and wagonloads of costumes, set pieces, props, and
backdrops, as well. It took acres of land to house the large
operation.

Annie chuckled. “You just think the colonel’s
perfect, is all. According to the Fair Directory, the Wild West is
just entertainment. The Exposition is supposed to be an educational
experience.”

“
Colonel Cody says the Wild West is an
educational exposition. And it really is, Annie.” Rose eyed the
other woman, whom she admired immensely. “Don’t you think
so?”

A tiny stab of disappointment struck her. She
hated it that Annie, who liked and admired the colonel, didn’t
appreciate him in the same worshipful way Rose did. As far as Rose
was concerned, William F. Cody had been her family’s deliverer and
would forever be her personal hero.

Annie sighed. “As to that, we do reenactments
of historical events.”

Rose nodded vigorously. “Yes, and that’s the
whole point. Think about it. The colonel’s life is so colorful—and
it’s all true. Why, he rode the longest Pony Express route ever
when he was only sixteen years old! And that was way before he
started scouting for the army.”

Annie leveled a look at Rose over the ace of
spades. “You were feeding your whole family when you were sixteen
years old, Rose.”

Rose shrugged. “Well, yes, but that’s only
because I had to, after Papa died. Freddie couldn’t ride or shoot
for anything, and I was a dead-eye shot. Anything the family didn’t
eat, we sold at market. You know all about that, because you did
the same thing.”

“
Hmph.” Annie’s lips pursed, as they
always did when Rose spoke of her older brother.

Feeling defensive about Freddie, whom Rose
loved with all her heart, and who was a sweetheart even if he
couldn’t hit the side of a barn with a buffalo rifle, Rose said,
“Freddie does his part, all right. He took care of the farm and did
all the hard labor around the place before he married Suzanne. Plus
he worked in Mr. Lovelady’s hardware store in town. Still does, for
that matter, and he still helps Ma with our farm, although with the
money I send home, Ma’s been able to hire a farm hand, too.” She
frowned. “I’m trying to talk her in to moving to town. She doesn’t
need to work the farm any longer.”

Annie gave her a sharp glance. “You’re the
one who provided the meals. I did the same thing, so I know how
hard it was for you. The colonel rode a horse a long way, and
probably had a wonderful time doing it. He wasn’t feeding his
family. There’s a lot to be said for being willing and able to keep
one’s family in food and shelter, Rose Gilhooley. Personally, I
think it’s a lot more important than riding a horse for a long way.
It’s called shouldering one’s responsibilities”

Rose giggled at Annie’s ferocity and the
thought of Buffalo Bill Cody as a young lad, riding for the Pony
Express. Rose would bet her last dollar that he’d had a good time,
indeed. “I suppose so, but it’s sure not as romantic.”

“
Romantic,” Annie repeated, as if the
word were possibly the most ridiculous one in the English
language.

“
Yes. Romantic. And don’t forget about
his army exploits, either. I don’t think it’s ridiculous to reenact
Custer’s massacre.”

Annie lifted one arm in the air, her hand
curled into a fist, as though she were holding a sacred object,
slapped the other hand over her heart and intoned dramatically,
“The first scalp for Custer!” Letting her arm drop and picking up
another deck of cards, she added, “Ugh.”

“
Oh, Annie, I know you’re wrong. I
think the colonel is the most wonderful man I’ve ever
met.”

“
That’s only because you haven’t met
very many men, darling Rose.”

They both laughed. Rose knew Annie was only
trying to spare her the disappointment of one day discovering
William F. Cody to be a mere man, but Rose didn’t really need any
lessons about that sort of thing. Rose had grown up rough. She also
knew that, in spite of her lack of enthusiasm in this instance,
Annie adored the colonel.

Besides, Rose had met plenty of men in her
life, no matter what Annie thought. She’d met drunkards and
gunfighters and gamblers and cowboys, all by the time she was old
enough to talk. Deadwood was a dangerous place, and Rose had
learned to duck almost as soon as she could walk, because the lead
flew like birds around the town.

By this time in her life, she could tell a
good man from a bad one, and a faker from an honest man. Whatever
Annie said, Rose Gilhooley knew very well that William F. Cody
wasn’t a plain common, garden-variety man. And if Rose chose to
find a little romance in life where she could, she didn’t think it
was Annie’s place to knock her fantasies around. The good Lord
knew, Rose had seen little enough of romance in her twenty-two
years. Since she loved and admired Annie Oakley almost as fiercely
as she did Buffalo Bill Cody, she’d never say so.

She did, however, sniff. “Well,
I
think the Wild West is much more
than a show.
I
think it’s an
educational experience, and ought to have been allowed to be set up
on the Exposition grounds.”

“
Hmmm. Maybe, but it’s still mostly for
the amusement of the people who come to see it, what with the
Indians attacking the Deadwood Stage, and the buffalo hunt and all.
I think those things can truthfully be considered as mere
entertainment. You have to admit that the colonel does alter
historical facts from time to time.”

“
Maybe, but I don’t think there’s
anything mere about it,” Rose said huffily. “If anyone thinks you
woke up one morning being able to shoot the way you shoot, or that
I woke up one morning being able to ride the way I ride, or that
they’re ever going to see how the Sioux lived before they went to
the reservations anywhere else, they’re just plain
nutty.”

“
People don’t think about things like
that unless they have to,” Annie told her dryly. “You and I might
have had to shoot our families’ meals before we were old enough to
think, but not too many other folks in today’s world have that
problem.”

“
I guess not.”

“
Did you do those reading and writing
exercises I gave you yesterday?”

Rose heaved a sigh. She hated not being
better at reading, writing, and ciphering, but that was one of the
many prices she’d paid to help her family survive. First she’d
brought home their food when she still lived on the farm outside
Deadwood. Now she was “Wind Dancer: Bareback Rider Extraordinaire”
for Buffalo Bill’s Wild West. She didn’t regret one single aspect
of her life—unless it was the poverty that had driven her to work
so hard to begin with—but she still wished she’d been able to go to
school.

“
I did. It’s getting
easier.”

Annie, with a sympathetic smile that
embarrassed Rose, reached over and patted her on the knee. “Of
course, it’s getting easier, dear. You’re doing very well. It’s
quite difficult to learn your letters and numbers when you’re an
adult and have to hold an exacting job at the same time.”

“
You did it.”

“
Yes, but I had a little more
background to begin with.” She shook an admonishing finger at Rose.
“It wasn’t easy for me, either, and I know it’s not easy for you.
And that’s not your fault.”

“
I guess.” Rose still felt like a
stupid lump every time she had to Ask Annie to help her decipher
words in the letters she received from fans who’d seen her perform
in the Wild West. She figured any self-respecting adult human
American, especially one whom others admired, ought to be able to
read the letters she got. No matter how many times Annie assured
her that ignorance and stupidity were too different things, Rose
still felt stupid.

Chapter Two

“
I believe they’re in here, Mr.
May.”

The two women looked at each other as Frank
Butler’s slightly accented voice reached them. Annie sighed. “Who’s
he got in tow now?” she asked, although she smiled as she did so.
Frank Butler, her Irish husband and a champion sharpshooter in his
own right, was also her business manager. As such, he tried to
garner as much publicity for her as he could.

Grinning, Rose said, “Whoever it is, I’m sure
he’ll love you, Annie. You’re so—perfect.” Rose was honestly only a
little bit jealous of Annie’s fame, mainly because Rose knew Annie
had earned it. Annie was also small and pretty and elegant, and
every inch a lady.

Rose herself was small and guessed she was
sort of pretty, but she felt thoroughly deficient in the ladyship
and elegance departments. Annie was trying to help her there, too.
So far, she’d managed to correct Rose’s grammar for the most
part—Rose slipped up occasionally when she was nervous—had taught
her how to eat with a knife, fork, and spoon, not to drink her tea
out of her saucer, and gone with her on a shopping expedition when
they’d first arrived in Chicago, but Rose knew she needed lots more
work in order to become a real lady, if she ever could.

Annie sniffed. “Rose Gilhooley, you’re being
silly. You’re ever so much younger and prettier than I am. Who’s to
say whoever this person Frank’s bringing hasn’t come here to see
you?”

Rose felt her eyes pop open. “Oh, no, Annie!
That never happens!”

Annie only sighed, patted a stack of cards
together, and stood, looking as if she didn’t relish whatever this
interruption was going to mean. Rose stood, too, feeling nervous.
She never felt nervous when she was performing because she’d
practically grown up on a horse and was confident there. Horseback,
however, was the only place she felt confident.