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Authors: John A. Heldt

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"I'm not sure you can help with this girl."

"I doubt I can," Andy said, "but I can certainly help you with another."

Kevin froze. He didn't like where the conversation was going.

"You have a girl in mind?"

Andy laughed heartily.

"I have several girls in mind," Andy said. He got up from his stool and placed a hand on Kevin's shoulder. "Today is your lucky day, Mr. Johnson. Today is your lucky day."

 

CHAPTER 15: KEVIN

 

"I'm not sure this is a good idea," Kevin said.

He stumbled over a pothole as he tried to catch Andy on their brisk two-block walk from the Shooting Star to a "boarding house" in the Triangle of Sin.

"Of course it's a good idea," Andy said. "Today is Monday."

"What's so big about Monday?"

Andy smiled and shook his head.

"You really need to get out more. Monday is the best day to visit the ladies. It's five dollars a throw until midnight. Maggie looks after our businessmen."

Kevin didn't need further elaboration. They were headed to the biggest whorehouse in town: the one that Walking Walt had practically called a national treasure.

"OK. I get the bargain part, but what about the rest? Don't you worry about catching a disease? We're talking about prostitutes here."

Andy stopped and turned to his companion.

"You worry too much. We're not going to the cribs by the river. We're going to the best, the very best. Maggie's girls are clean and much more pleasing to the eye than the average Sally on Cedar Street. Enjoy yourself. The treat is on me. Come."

Kevin resisted the temptation to walk back to Maude's mansion. This was crazy. Did Andy O'Connell, man of the world and ace reporter, not know the first thing about syphilis and gonorrhea? Wednesday's return trip to the Age of Antibiotics began to look very attractive.

Five minutes later the men walked through an alley to a large nondescript building in the heart of the restricted district. They entered an unmarked door and proceeded down a short hallway to a lobby, where they stopped and waited in front of an unoccupied desk.

Kevin looked to his right and saw several dapper men, no doubt seeking their specials, drink at a bar and speak flirtatiously to an equal number of women. Each of the women wore what could charitably be called a nightgown. All appeared to be having a good time.

He again questioned the wisdom of coming here. Why did he do things in Wallace that he would never do anywhere else? Andy was clearly one answer. Sour-mash whiskey was another.

Kevin turned to Andy and started to speak but held his sedated tongue when he saw a stout woman on the short side of forty lead two younger, more attractive women into the room. The older woman smiled when she saw Andy and pulled a book from behind the desk.

"Welcome back, Mr. O'Connell. I see you brought a friend today. How can I help you?"

"You know me, Maggie. I wish to see my favorite flower."

"Jasmine's been expecting you. I'll call her in a moment."

Maggie Ryan made a notation in the book and then gave Kevin a close inspection.

"You're a handsome one. What can I do for you today?"

"I'm just along for the ride, ma'am," Kevin said. "I don't need anything."

"He's just joking," Andy said. "He wants the same thing. This is my friend Kevin Johnson. He's come here from Seattle in search of a teaching position."

"Is that right now?" Maggie asked. "We like educators. How can we further your education today, Mr. Johnson?"

The two women at Maggie's side laughed.

"I don't know," Kevin said. "I'm kind of new at this."

Maggie put a hand to her chin and stared at Andy.

"He's not a talkative one, is he?"

"He's a wee bit shy and somewhat concerned he'll catch more than a cold if he loiters in your lobby very long," Andy said. "Only the most wholesome girl will do for him."

The women laughed again.

"I run a fine establishment, Mr. Johnson. My ladies are the queens of the Coeur d'Alenes. If it's wholesome you want, it's wholesome you'll get. Jenny, go get the new girl."

Jenny, the older looking of Maggie's assistants, frowned.

"You want me to get her now? She just got here."

"There's no time like the present to get to work. Yes, go get Sadie."

 

CHAPTER 16: SADIE

 

Sadie sat in a chair in Maggie's largest parlor and wondered again how it had come to this. She knew the answer, of course. She was on the verge of becoming a prostitute because of the failings of a good man, the avarice and cruelty of a bad man, and her own cowardice.

She knew it wasn't really fair to blame the good man. Henry Hawkins had been a kind and loving father who had done his best to provide for his only child after his wife had died of influenza. For a while, he had even been a capable businessman.

He had opened a hardware store on the east end of town and had managed it successfully until the Panic of 1907 had sent the economy into a spin. Needing a quick fix for his growing debt, Henry had turned to an unscrupulous man for help. When Henry had died, his short-term, high-interest loan had become his daughter's long-term, high-anxiety problem.

Preston Pierce, owner of the Intermountain Bank, had leaned hard on Henry's sole heir after Henry's passing on Christmas Day 1909. He had told Sadie in no uncertain terms that she would never be able to leave Wallace until she paid back every penny of the three thousand dollars her father had borrowed but not returned. Though he could not send her to debtor's prison in Idaho, he could make her life miserable – and he was just the kind of man to do it.

Sadie, 19, had managed to pay back half of the debt by liquidating her father's inventory and selling various personal belongings, including jewelry that had once belonged to her mother. She had promised to pay off the balance if it took her the rest of her life, but her words had fallen on deaf ears. Pierce had demanded that the debt be paid in full, with interest, by the end of 1911.

Desperate and afraid, Sadie had turned to the only person in town who could provide her with the means to retire the debt. Maggie Ryan had balked at first. She had not wanted to sully her reputation as a civic-minded businesswoman by taking on the orphan of a failed merchant, but she relented when Sadie had broken down and explained her circumstances.

So on Sunday morning, Sadie had moved out of her father's foreclosed property and moved into the boarding house. She had managed to retain her dignity through the Sabbath, when most of Maggie's patrons attended to their wives and girlfriends, but she knew her time was coming. She had resigned herself to the inevitable and so wasn't at all surprised when Jenny Chandler walked into the parlor wearing a frown.

"Maggie wants you to come to the lobby. There's a gentleman there," Jenny said.

Sadie felt her stomach sink as she realized that her life was about to change. Just the look on Jenny's face told her all she needed to know about what awaited.

She had often dreamed about her wedding night and her first time. She thought about how beautiful it might be and how relations with the man she loved would likely lead to the family she had always wanted. But this was no wedding night. This was business as usual in the red-light district. It was the opening act in a miserable play that might last up to two years.

Sadie got up from her chair and tightened the belt of a silk nightgown she had borrowed from one of the girls. She couldn't bring herself to wear anything more garish, though she figured that, too, would change as she became more accustomed to life in a bordello.

Sadie looked at her new friend and wiped away a tear.

"I don't think I can do this, Jenny. How do I get through it?"

Jenny, a thin redhead with a pleasing face, gave Sadie a hug and put her hands on the younger woman's shoulders.

"Just relax and think of other things, like all that you have going for you. You're pretty and smart and resourceful. If you keep your head, you'll make it, honey. You'll pay off your debt and get out of here. I know you will."

"But what should I say? What should I do?"

"Take your cues from the customer. No two are the same, Sadie. Some talk. Some don't. Some are gentle. Some are beasts."

Sadie frowned. That wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"I can give you one piece of advice," Jenny said.

"What's that?"

"Don't be afraid to take the lead if you smell whiskey on his breath. It may be your only chance to set a drunken man's head straight. Remember that."

"I will."

"Trust your instincts. You'll know what to do."

Jenny glanced at a clock on a wall, gave Sadie another hug, and stepped back.

"We should go now," she said.

Sadie nodded and followed Jenny out of the first-floor parlor and down a long hallway to the reception desk, or what some girls sarcastically called "the transfer station." When she walked into the lobby, she saw Maggie Ryan stand next to a man who appeared to be in his early twenties. In the distance, the
Standard's
city reporter warmly embraced Jasmine Moreau.

Sadie tensed up when Jenny left her side and stepped behind the desk. When she saw her friend offer a reassuring smile, she returned her attention to her employer.

"You asked to see me, Maggie?"

"Yes, Sadie. I did. I would like you to spend some time with this gentleman."

Maggie and Sadie each turned to face the man.

"This is Mr. Kevin Johnson. He is new to our establishment," Maggie said. "Mr. Johnson, this is Sadie, your escort. She will accompany you to the Franklin Room."

Sadie gazed at the customer for several seconds and allowed herself to breathe. She had feared she would find an older man – a cruel, ugly sort that had not bathed in a month. What she found was something else. Mr. Johnson was young and handsome and had a gentle quality to his eyes that she had not expected. She could only pray that he was kind as well.

"Sadie, I trust you know where to go," Maggie said.

The comment brought the new girl out of a daze.

"I do," Sadie said.

The madam looked at the client and smiled.

"Enjoy your time here, Mr. Johnson."

The young man blushed.

"Thank you," he said.

Sadie gathered herself, stepped toward the man, and grabbed one of his hands. The hand was warm and comfortingly clammy. Perhaps the buyer was as terrified as the seller.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Johnson," Sadie said, using words she had been instructed to use. "Please follow me."

 

CHAPTER 17: KEVIN

 

The first thing Kevin noticed when "Sadie" entered the lobby is that she didn't look like a prostitute. She looked like a college freshman finding her way between her dorm room and the restroom in bare feet and a loose-fitting nightgown. She didn't have the hardened or defeated appearance of a woman who had given herself to strangers several times a day for many years.

She was also uncommonly beautiful. With wavy black hair that cascaded over her shoulders, liquid brown eyes, and a soft round face that radiated innocence, she looked very much out of place in this house of ill repute.

He followed her down the hallway and up a flight of stairs to the second floor. From there, they proceeded down another corridor to a room furnished with a coat rack, a small nightstand, and a double bed with a black wrought-iron frame. Red pinstriped paper covered the walls.

Kevin took off his jacket and hat and hung them on the rack. He then walked to the end of the narrow room and briefly assessed its furnishings before turning around to face his so-called escort. She had already closed and locked the door.

Kevin gazed at Sadie and noticed for the first time that she wasn't very big. He doubted that she carried more than a hundred and ten pounds on her petite five-foot-three-inch frame. He wondered what she was thinking now that she was locked in a room with a man twice her size.

"So why do they call this the Franklin Room?" Kevin asked.

Sadie didn't respond verbally. She instead pointed at a small picture on a wall, a framed portrait of Benjamin Franklin, America's Founding Philanderer.

Kevin laughed to himself. This place didn't miss a beat. He took a breath and returned to his new friend. He didn't know if he could go through with this, but he knew now that he wanted to. The whiskey was kicking in. So was the frustration of eight months without sex.

Guilt and doubt, however, quickly replaced alcohol-fueled lust. There was something about Sadie that didn't add up. She seemed far too tentative. She didn't appear to be a seasoned lady of the evening, someone who had taken charge with males on countless occasions, but rather a frightened young woman who probably wanted to be somewhere else.

Kevin gazed at Sadie for more than a minute but couldn't compel himself to make the first move. He wanted to be with this woman but not like this. He held back.

Sadie did not. Perhaps sensing Kevin's apprehension, she offered a sad smile, loosened the belt of her gown, and stepped forward. She stopped a few feet in front of him, slid the garment off of her shoulders, and let it fall to the hardwood floor.

Stunned by the sudden turn of events, Kevin stepped back, lost his balance, and tripped over his own feet. He crashed into the side of the bed and bounced into the nightstand before tumbling onto the floor. By the time he picked himself up, he had a sore back and a bump on his head to go with a guilty conscience and a case of the nerves.

"Are you all right?" Sadie asked as she moved toward him.

"I'm fine," Kevin said. "I'm just a little intoxicated and kind of nervous. I've never been to a brothel before."

Sadie didn't respond to Kevin's comment or inquire further about his condition. She instead looked at him for a few seconds and then lowered her doe-like eyes.

Kevin gazed again at the girl. What he saw was something that came awfully close to physical perfection. With smooth skin, shapely features, and a face worthy of its own painting, Sadie was far more than he had expected and far more than he deserved.

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