Betrayal #4

~A TIME OF UNCERTAINTIES~

by jfclover

I was thirteen years old when I learned my father’s teachings didn’t apply to every man in Nevada. And it was because I witnessed the unthinkable that I’m retelling this story now.  Though I’d been told it wasn’t typical behavior and should be avoided at all costs, this was the first time I understood the evil of man.  I witnessed what one man could take from another without conscience or a sense of regret.

When my friend Mitch and I had a falling out over who would ask Agnes Mason to the 4th of July Picnic, Simon Henry became my new best friend.  We were nearly the same age, only Simon was a few inches taller than I, with straight, blonde hair and a bunch of freckles across the bridge of his nose.  The only other difference was that Simon had no brothers or sisters, and he lived in town because his pa was a circuit judge, not a rancher like my pa.

Although he was shy around most people, especially girls, he was a good friend to me, especially when Agnes allowed Mitch to escort her to the picnic instead of me. “Fine,” I’d said when Mitch gloated over her decision.  “I wasn’t planning to go anyway.  Simon and I have other plans.”  And though we haven’t yet, we will by Saturday afternoon.  I wasn’t about to be put on the spot and show up to some stupid picnic without a girl on my arm.

The only thing standing in the way was my father, insisting I make an appearance.  I told him I had plans with Simon, and it didn’t include the picnic, but I lost the battle and was forced to attend.  So, after playing a few games and trying to distance myself from Mitch and Agnes, Pa said Simon and I could leave if that’s what we wanted.  Though we still hadn’t made other plans, Pa had agreed to let me spend the night at the Henry’s.

There were fireworks planned for later in the evening, and we sure didn’t want to miss the best part of Independence Day.  And, since Simon’s pa was always working, and would work late into the night, he had no problem with the two of us going alone.  He even gave us the change that rattled in his pocket in case we got hungry for ice cream or needed a piece of pie from Miss Alice Zimmerman’s booth at the fair.

Instead of buying a sweet dessert, we headed straight to Cass’s mercantile and bought a tin of rolling papers to go along with the tobacco we’d snatched from Mr. Henry’s study.  We were nearly grown-ups, and we were game to try our hand at smoking our first real cigarettes.  So, before the fireworks began, we hid in the alleyway between the city jail and the widow Burkett’s notions and needlework store, knowing if either of us was caught, our backsides would be warmed well.

It was the daring excitement of it all that made boys like Simon and me adventurous and think we were quite the daredevils as we wrapped our tobacco, licked the paper, and struck our wooden matches against the brick wall.  We each lit our cigarettes and sucked in a deep breath before bursting into fits of coughing and becoming so light-headed I’m surprised one of us didn’t pass out right there in the alley.  Afraid of being caught, we quickly recovered, although tears burned my eyes, and Simon’s too.

We stared at each other, knowing neither of us would tell a soul what just happened since we’d obviously failed at our first attempt at smokin’.  We were practically grown, only a couple of years away from adulthood, and if anyone found out, we’d be nothing but a laughingstock.

After a few deep breaths, we finally felt normal again and decided to head on down to Miller’s Pond and wait for the fireworks to begin when loud voices, coming from a large group of men, startled us at first, and we remained hidden in the shadows of the alley.  Some of the men held lit torches while others carried rifles or clubs.  It was a scary sight as they marched shoulder-to-shoulder down the middle of C Street, kickin’ up dust and mumblin’ words we couldn’t make out.  “Stay back,” I warned Simon.  “Don’t let no one see you, understand?”

Although Simon should have been streetwise, living in town and all, he was far from it.  He mostly spent his free time reading books and writing needless essays.  In a way, he reminded me of Adam, but his shyness stood out, and I figured it was my job to change all that.  Who in their right mind, if they had something better to do, would spend a Saturday afternoon glued to a book?

Even though we were still reeling from the smoke we’d swallowed, we kept to the shadows with our backs against the clapboard wall of the sheriff’s office, only to realize the jail had been the men’s destination all along.  They hung back in the street except for one man, who looked to be the leader, and shouted angry words until the newly elected sheriff walked out the front door. I couldn’t remember the sheriff’s name, although I’d heard Pa say he was a good man.

“Give us the Chinaman,” the man yelled.

The jailhouse door opened, and the sheriff stepped out onto the wooden boardwalk; a shotgun lay across his arms.  “You men go home,” the sheriff hollered over the angry mob.  “He ain’t stood trial yet, and I won’t have no lynchin’ while I’m the town’s sheriff.”

I nearly jumped outta my skin when a rifle blast sounded through the air. “Don’t want no trouble, Sheriff.  Now, hand over the Chinaman, or someone’s gonna get hurt.”

Simon and I leaned forward with just inches of our faces showing against the rough wall so we could see the new sheriff, who’d pointed a shotgun straight at the angry mob.  “I ain’t sayin’ it again.  Now get off the street and go back to your homes.”

A man in the crowd pointed his rifle, and I wanted to yell out a warning, but I froze.  I couldn’t get a word past my lips.  A shot was fired, and the sheriff flew back against the jailhouse wall.  I didn’t know if they’d killed him or not, but three men plowed over the sheriff’s prone body while the remainder of the men scattered after the shot was fired.  In no time, they were dragging the Chinaman out of jail.  “This way,” I heard someone say.  “The old sycamore oughta work just fine.”

The Chinaman wasn’t old, maybe Hoss’ age or thereabouts.  They tied a rope around his ankles, and the slightly built man was dragged, leaving his head and shoulders to bounce along the dirt street.  Simon and I ran to catch up with the men who’d taken the law into their own hands.  At least that’s what Pa would have called it.  I never actually knew what those words meant until I saw them with my own eyes.

Pa was talking to Adam about the upcoming trial just last night.  “Tam Lee will never get a fair trial in Virginia City,” he’d said.  My brother stood with his hands on his hips, and I knew he was serious.

“We can only hope the jury listens to both sides of the case, Adam, and the judge doesn’t let the prosecutor make a mockery of his courtroom.”

“Does it really matter, Pa?  Tam Lee is Chinese.  You know he doesn’t stand a chance.  Given his best day in court, even Hiram Wood couldn’t sway a jury in his favor when it came to someone of Chinese descent.”

Pa shook his head, and I wondered if what Adam had said was true, although I didn’t quite understand why being Chinese made a difference when it came to trials, judges, and juries.

Simon and I stayed up with the men even though we kept our distance so as not to be seen.  Smoking was bad enough, but if we were caught watching a lynching, we’d be settling in for the worst tanning of our lives.

““`

“String ‘im up, boys.”

A dark-haired man with a brown, leather vest, who outweighed the Chinaman by a least a hundred pounds, threw the rope over a sturdy limb of the old sycamore at the far end of town.  He jerked on the rope, and hand over hand, he pulled, hauling the young man up by his ankles.  The Chinaman’s arms were flailing as was his long, braided queue, and he was rattling on in Cantonese words only Hop Sing could have made out.

Simon and I stopped just behind a building at the edge of town, but close enough to see what the three men planned next.  Since most of the crowd had gone home after the sheriff had been shot, these men were big enough and strong enough to accomplish the job on their own.

One man spun the helpless boy in circles while another jabbed him with the butt of his rifle.  His shirt had been shredded from being dragged down the road before they even strung him up.  While one of the men toyed at him with a lighted torch, holding the flame close to the Chinaman’s back; his gut-wrenching screams caused me to cover my eyes and turn my face to the wall.

And just as his cries grew more frantic, the boy’s name suddenly came to mind and somehow, the whole event became personal.  Light filled the sky as the fireworks began in the clearing over Miller’s Pond just east of town.  I didn’t know whether Pa and Hoss and Adam were staying for the final event or if they’d decided to ride home early.

I grabbed Simon’s arm and spun him in front of me.  I could feel his body tremble in fear as I steadied both hands on his shoulders.  “Go get your pa,” I whispered, staring straight into his eyes.  “He can stop these men.”  Simon hesitated, knowing we’d both have a great deal of explaining to do, but I saw no other choice.  It was up to Simon and me to save Tam Lee’s life.

“Okay,” Simon agreed, “but stay put or they might kill you, too.”

“Just go!”

I shoved Simon, who seemed to be frozen in place, toward Henry’s house then turned around just in time to see the leader reach forward, grab hold and twist the Chinaman’s testicles.  My breath hitched in my chest, and I hugged the wall even tighter, fearing what might come next.  The Chinaman’s arms stopped thrashing.  He held his hands between his legs to corral the immediate pain.

Fireworks streaked the night sky—their colors blossoming—like the boom, boom, boom of distant battlefields filled the air, obscuring the grisly sounds under the sycamore tree.  While the Chinaman wept, three no-good thugs doubled over, slapping their hands on their knees, their thunderous bellows were brash and loud, taunting and rattling their helpless victim.

And when I dared to look up and witness this frightened man’s torture, something shiny illuminated even through the haze of the smoke-filled sky. The rough fits of laughter had quieted to mumbled voices I couldn’t make out.  The Chinaman’s face was no longer visible as the three moved closer to their prey.  A frantic, animalistic cry caused me to cover my ears and shut my eyes.  And, with my heart pounding in time with the exploding sky, an unexpected surge of bravado claimed victory over my body and mind.  I stepped away from the wall.

“Hey!”

Out from the shadows of the clapboard, I stood in plain sight, facing the men who held rifles and torches.  The leader turned my way.  One hand held a knife; the other was saturated with blood.  All three men froze and stared, their voices silenced when I stepped forward.

“Let the man go,” I said, praying my voice wouldn’t betray me as it sometimes did.

“Who’s the kid?” a dark-haired man said, nearly laughing as he stared in my direction.

“Don’t know.”  The man with the bloody hand stepped forward.  “Got somethin’ for ya, boy.”

I didn’t recognize any of these men, and although I was near panic, I didn’t run away.  I held my ground.  “You’ve done enough.  Let the Chinaman go.”

“You givin’ orders, boy?”  His words were sarcastic and degrading, but I didn’t run off.  I stared straight at him and said my piece.

“No, but I … he’s had enough.”

“Here, kid.”  The leader approached slowly.  “Every boy needs a souvenir of a decent night’s work.”  With the knife still in his hand, he stood only inches away, and I prayed he wouldn’t sense my fear as I recalled Simon’s words. “He might kill you too.”

The leader wiped the knife across his thigh, leaving dark streaks of blood on his tan-colored pants.  His left hand came from behind his back, a balled-up fist still dripping with bright, fresh blood.  “Got somethin’ for ya, sonny.”  And when I dared to look, he peeled his fingers back slowly, revealing exactly what he’d done; I stared at the palm of his hand.

His arm moved deliberately, dropping the Chinaman’s ear into my shirt pocket just as the finale began, filling the sky overhead with a bright array of spectacular colors, I could faintly hear the seven-piece band playing My Country ‘Tis of Thee, and I ran.

“Grab him, boys.”

Although my senses were dulled, and I wanted to strip off my shirt and the evidence of Tam Lee, all I did was run.  “Faster’n a jackrabbit,” Hoss would say, faster than ever before.

““`

When I stumbled through the front door close to dawn, Pa knew from that moment forward, my life had changed forever.  No longer was I an innocent child who Pa could protect from evil.  I confessed I’d witnessed a lynching.  Adam had been right all along.  Tam Lee never stood a chance for a fair trial; no Chinaman ever would.

Pa slept in my room all night.  He pulled a chair beside my bed, and we talked things out.  I didn’t cry for Tam Lee, and neither did Pa.  Although I skipped the part about smokin’ with Simon, I told him about the sheriff, and Pa said he would ride into town in a few hours and see what he could do.  I was to stay at home with my brothers where I’d be safe if the men ever found out who I was and where I lived.

I understood what Pa was saying, and it was a long time before I was allowed or even wanted to go back to town.  One of my brothers rode to school with me for the next month or so, and even though I told Pa I was able to ride in alone, deep inside I was grateful for their company.  I never wanted to see those men again.

““`

And now, six years later, I’m still reminded of Tam Lee on certain occasions.  Two more lynchings had occurred in Virginia City since that night—one Chinese, the other a man, a desperado who was probably guilty but never stood trial.

The Chinese were still unwanted in Virginia City or in most towns where work was plentiful in underground mines.  Although it was mostly theory, Pa’s take on the situation was that men feared the Chinese, which resulted in hate. “It’s all about employment,” he said.  “The Chinese take jobs away from the white man.  They work hard and they’ll work for less money, which doesn’t sit well with most American-born men.  It will happen in the South if Lincoln wins the war.  Negroes will be hungry for work, and they’ll work for pennies in order to feed their families.”

“Are you saying the Negroes are better off as slaves?” I was confused by my father’s statement and wasn’t sure what he was trying to say.

Pa studied my question before answering.  “No.  No man should own another, but I fear there will be tough times ahead, Joseph.”

If Pa didn’t have the answer, I didn’t know who would, so I let the discussion drop.  There was no right or wrong answer, even from my father.

““`

“How does it feel to turn nineteen, son?”

“Little brother’s growing up ain’t he, Pa.”

“Congratulations, Joe.  I never thought you’d make it this far.”

“Oh, Adam,” Pa said, wanting today to be a celebration—a victory of sorts.

Pa raised his glass; filled from an aged bottle of wine he’d brought up for this special occasion and offered a toast.  “To my son, Joseph,” he said.  “To a young man who brings joy and happiness to our lives every single day.  To a young man who has conquered difficult times, and who has moved forward into adulthood by becoming a fine and honorable individual.  I’m proud of you, son.”

We were all aware of what Pa was referencing.  I had made it through at least a hundred difficult days—days where I didn’t know if I wanted to live to see a hundred and one.  Days when ending my life seemed like an easier alternative than making it through to my 19th birthday

“Thanks, Pa,” I said, knowing he meant every word.  I touched everyone’s glass first, and we all took a healthy sip of Pa’s finely aged wine.

“To my little brother, Joseph,” Hoss said.

I almost feared what was coming next.

“Like our eldest brother,” he said before clearing his throat, “I have to agree. There were times we all wondered if you’d ever even make it past childhood.”

“Oh, real funny, Hoss.”  I rolled my eyes, but no matter what he had to say, it was his turn to speak, and I had to listen.  

“Remember the time you fell outta that big ol’ cottonwood and done busted up your leg so bad you missed about two months of schoolin’?”

I nodded as I cringed at the memory.

“Then there was the time that little bay mare, which no one else could break, tossed ya right into the corral fence.  Heck, none of us thought you’d even live long enough to see the sun rise the next mornin’.  I can’t begin to name all the times we lost sleep worrying about you, little brother.  So, as Adam said, I’m sure enough glad you made it this far.”

“Thanks, Hoss,” I said, chuckling at the roundabout way my brother brought laughter into our lives.  “I’m kinda glad I did too.”

Though Hoss didn’t mention the worst days of my life, the days and nights when morphine was king and was nothing but a pawn, I was grateful he brought up long-ago memories, leaving the most recent ones behind.

“I guess it’s my turn,” Adam said, raising his glass.  “I’ll make mine short and sweet.”  We turned our attention to my eldest brother and held our glasses once again.  “May the saddest day of your future be no worse than the happiest day of your past.”

May the saddest day of your future be no worse than the happiest day of your past.  “Hey, I like that, Adam.”

We toasted again, and as I mulled my brother’s statement over in my mind, Hop Sing marched out of the kitchen carrying a brightly lit birthday cake. “Happy Birthday, Little Joe,” he said, setting the flaming wonder on the table in front of me.

“Geez, Hop Sing.  You went all out on this one.”

“Youngest son make family proud.  Youngest son good boy: deserve best Hop Sing can offer.”

“Thanks.  It’s a beauty.”

I sucked in so much air my cheeks nearly burst.  I blew out all nineteen candles in one fell swoop, but why did memories of Tam Lee fill my mind? My entire family, including Hop Sing, clapped and cheered, and I shook away any thoughts of the past.  Why now?  Why had the memory of that lynching suddenly appeared as clear as the night it happened?  Had he been the same age I was now?  Was nineteen years a common denominator?  I hoped not.

“Why don’t we have our cake and coffee in the living room?” Pa suggested.

How any of us could possibly eat cake after the meal Hop Sing just served would be a true test of endurance.  Hoss and I sat on the settee after he’d grabbed an apple from the bowl, while Pa and Adam took their respective chairs on either side of the fireplace.

“As you boys know,” Pa said, “I’ve been working on that timber contract with Stan Overton.  He’s planning to build the largest sailing vessel to ever leave San Francisco harbor.  I received the final plans yesterday.  Now,” Pa said, leaning forward in his chair, “Adam and I both agree, if we all work hard, we can make the deadline Overton’s set for this grand-scale project.”

“I’d sure like to see this boat when it’s finished, Pa.”

“First of all, Joseph, we refer to this project as a ship, not a boat.  Secondly, I would like you to leave tomorrow morning and personally hand Stan Overton the signed contract so we can begin cutting timber.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“San Francisco?”

“Now, before you get ahead of yourself, I want you to pick one of your brothers to ride along with you.”

I looked at both brothers.  How could I choose only one when I knew they were each dying to go?  “Okay,” I said.  I used one of Pa’s little tricks.  I stood up and pulled two matchsticks from the brass cup on the hearth.  I broke one in half and held them up evenly.  “Who wants to go first?  The longest match wins.”  I glanced at Hoss.

“You go, Adam.”

Adam took a match from my hand.  He pulled the longest.  “Sorry, Hoss,” Adam was quick to say.  “Looks like you get to stay home and muck stalls while Joe and I are away.”

“Ah shucks,” Hoss said, winking at Adam.  “Maybe I’ll see if our Pa still has what it takes to clean them stalls.”

My father shook his head and smiled at Hoss before standing from his chair.  “Oh, one more thing, Joseph—”

“Yes, sir?”

“As part of your birthday present, I’m giving you an extra three days to spend however you’d like in San Francisco.  See the sights, smell the sea air but please, please stay away from the Barbary Coast.”

“Are you serious, Pa?  Three days?”

“I’m serious, son.”

“You hear that, Adam?  Three days to do whatever we want.  Think of all the pretty ladies whose heads we’ll turn after they see the two of us on the boardwalks of San Francisco.”

“Now, Joseph.”

“I just meant … we’d look, Pa.  Nothing more.”

“Fine, just look.”

“Yessir.”

“Okay, you boys get a good night’s sleep,” he said, nodding at Adam and me.  “You have a long ride tomorrow.”

““`

Adam and I decided we’d spare our mounts on the long journey and we each saddled an alternate horse to ride.  Adam picked a black gelding he’d named Granite—a perfect choice for my brother—and I saddled a sorrel we called Penny because of her bright, copper color.  We packed enough food to last three or four days, although we planned to stop at way stations or some of the half-dozen towns we’d pass along the way.  It would be a long ride, but I was glad Pa didn’t insist we take the stage.  There’s nothing worse than being crammed knee-to-knee with strangers on a moving coach.

“You boys take care now,” Pa said as we mounted.  “And keep your distance from the Barbary Coast.”

“Don’t worry about us, Pa.  Me and Adam will try our best not to get shanghaied.”

“That’s a wise decision, son.”

I smiled at my father, knowing he’d worry and drive Hoss crazy the whole time Adam and I were gone, but this was a generous trip, and I was grateful he trusted me enough to let me out of his sight even if he sent a keeper to tag along.

“We’ll be fine, Pa,” Adam said.  “Try not to lose too much sleep while we’re gone.”

“Sleep?  I won’t have time to sleep,” Pa said, glancing at Hoss.  “I’ll be too busy mucking out stalls.”

We waved goodbye, and Adam and I were off on our journey to the West Coast.  The past year had been a rough one for me, and by some miracle—thanks to my eldest brother—I was still alive.  Adam had been my savior.  I could have easily given up and continued on with my deception and lies, but he was my constant support and kept me strong.  He saved the life of Joe Cartwright.

It seemed like a lifetime before Pa and I settled into a few comfortable moments together.  Pa had been afraid.  He didn’t trust me, and I hated him for that.  I didn’t trust myself most of the time, but to have my father watching and waiting for me to fail made both of our lives miserable.

Adam had asked me to talk to Pa—to settle things once and for all.  I assured him I would, but it took time for me to come up with the appropriate words and a suitable apology for my weeks of defiant behavior.  I defended myself like I was on trial, but our conversation didn’t go as I’d planned.  My plan was to apologize and set things straight.  I’d planned my speech for days, but it was my father who held me in his arms and apologized to me.

“You’re my son, Joseph, and I let you down.  I need you in my life, boy.  I always have; I always will.”

For months, I fought my father, and it was because of my own selfish ways that I’d used Pa as an excuse to be hateful to anyone I encountered. I fought against the one person who would always stand beside me no matter what I’d done or how thoughtless or hurtful I’d become.

Pa and I made peace that night.  I remember it well.  It was just a few days after I’d brought Mei home with me for an extended stay.  She’d brought a sense of calm and moments of laughter, which had been missing for a very long time.  We enjoyed her company, especially Hoss, for whom she spent all her free time cooking.  From the plain to the exotic, Hoss ate everything she set before him.  She didn’t have quite as much luck with the rest of us but oh, how she loved Hoss and his voracious appetite.

““`

Roy Coffee had ridden out to the house only days after Mei had come to live with us.  He’d come to tell me a friend of mine had been murdered, strangled, and left for dead in a back alley just outside of Chinatown.

“A friend of mine?”

“That’s right, Little Joe.  Simon Henry,” Roy said.  “Broken neck—snapped like a twig.  My deputy found him early this morning and took him down to Doc’s.  Paul said it looked like the boy died instantly.  I thought maybe you’d know if he had any enemies, anyone who’d want to see him dead.”

Mei sat at the table next to me as Roy told his story.  Adam had let him in, and since we’d just sat down to lunch, my brother invited the sheriff to join us.  Roy accepted.

I glanced at Mei.  With her head bowed, I knew exactly what had happened to Simon Henry, but it wasn’t my place to interfere.  It was Chinese business, not mine.  I thought back to a night in the saloon when I’d run away from a dance seeking solace in a glass of cold beer.  I recalled the last conversation Simon and I had.

“Mostly I stick to whores,” he’d said.  Then, he continued to explain how he and I were two of a kind.  That’s when my fist connected with his jaw.  It had been an ugly fight and from what I recall, Roy Coffee had seen the results of my temper that night.

It was weeks later when I discovered a white man had brutally attacked Mei, and now I knew the truth.  The white man had been Simon Henry.  Is that what he thought of Mei?  Were all Chinese women whores to men like Simon?  And then I discovered another truth.  Simon was an addict, the same as me.  He’d seen Mei at the house of Wong, and when the opportunity presented itself, he crossed the line.

All eyes were on me, waiting for an answer.  I held Mei’s hand under the table, wanting no one to notice the secret we shared.  “I wish I could help you, Sheriff, but if Simon had any enemies, it’s news to me.”

“Well, I remembered you two gettin’ into a fight one night in the saloon, and I—”

I shot up from my chair and stared at Roy.  “You think I killed Simon Henry?”

“Now don’t go jumpin’ to conclusions, Little Joe.”

“It wasn’t me, Sheriff, but I’ll say one thing for certain.  Knowing Simon, more’n likely he had it comin’.”

“Joseph!”

“I mean it, Pa.  Simon Henry was no good.”

Roy Coffee and the rest of my family stared in my direction; I’d said too much.  Mei excused herself and quickly entered her bedroom, just off the dining room.  I was happy she’d left; I didn’t want her questioned by the sheriff.  I, too, left the room and went outside for air.  It was only moments before Roy came out of the front door, and I found myself apologizing for raising my voice and mouthing off about the dead.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have said that about Simon.”

“He used to be a nice kid,” Roy said.  “Somethin’ changed him, Little Joe.  He just weren’t hisself for quite some time.”

Although I hadn’t put two and two together that night in the bar, there were signs I hadn’t picked up on—signs of drug use—like his shaking hands, and his talk about loose women.  Simon never would’ve said that in the past. He’d always been shy around the ladies, even as kids he was quiet and reluctant to assert himself.

But something changed both of us the night we saw Tam Lee hanging from that sycamore tree.  I’d sent Simon for help, but I ran before he returned. We never discussed that night nearly six years ago.  I know how it affected me, but neither of us said a word.  Our friendship ended that night.  He stayed home with his books while I moved on and made new friends.

“I guess he changed some, Sheriff.  We used to be friends in school, but we all change at some point.”  I wasn’t about to resurrect the past; I wasn’t ready to dredge up memories of a lynching that Roy wasn’t even aware ever happened.

“Well, if ya hear anythin’ you’ll let me know, won’t you, Little Joe?”

“Yessir.”

After the sheriff rode off, I realized Pa was standing on the porch.  He was curious as to why I’d said those things about a boy I’d once called friend, but I didn’t want to discuss Simon with Pa; I only wanted to talk to Mei.  Simon had been the one who hurt her.  I hadn’t told the sheriff; I wouldn’t tell Pa either.

“What was that all about, son?”

“Nothin’ Pa.  It was something Simon had said to me in the bar that night before the fight.”

“And?”

“It’s nothin’ I care to repeat.  It’s over.  It was a long time ago.”

My father wasn’t pleased with my answer, but I just couldn’t say anymore.  I had to protect Mei.  The matter had been settled.  It was over and done with, and there was nothing anyone could do to change Simon’s fate.  He chose to disgrace Mei and, in the end, he paid the ultimate price.

Mei stayed with us for about six weeks, and I admit I loved every minute she spent in our home.  It was fun having a lady in the house, but she was more than just a female presence.  She was delightful and entertaining, telling us fables and old Chinese parables and how everything she’d ever been taught applied to the white man’s daily life, too.  The little girl, who I’d thought was so much younger than me, was only a few months my junior.  If circumstances had been different—if she hadn’t been Chinese—I think I would have fallen in love the minute I first laid eyes on her.

So after finding a distant relative in San Francisco, Mei thought it best she move on.  I was sad to see her go.  We all were; we’d grown accustomed to having her in our home.  The day I drove her into town and put her on the stage, she carried a larger carpetbag than the small, cotton bag she’d brought with her.  With Hop Sing’s help, we’d been able to send him to Chinatown to outfit her with enough clothing for her stay on the Ponderosa.

Early on, I’d offered to take her to a dressmaker in town, but she flatly refused to wear white women’s clothes.  “Too many underthings,” she’d said.  “Mei not understand why so many clothes for one person.”

I didn’t try to explain.

As the stage rolled into town, I stood next to Mei, knowing I’d never see her again.  I would miss my friend.  We’d spent so much time together over the past few weeks we’d become more than friends although never lovers.  I wanted to kiss her goodbye, but it was out of the question on the open streets of Virginia City.

““`

The trip to San Francisco was long, and I couldn’t wait to set foot on the Barbary Coast.  Somehow, with my gift of persuasion, I would convince big brother we had nothing to fear, and Pa would never be the wiser.  There’d be women galore, waiting on every corner just to entertain two handsome cowboys from Nevada.  Life was good, and I let my imagination run wild. Often though, my mind drifted back to Mei, and I couldn’t help but wonder how she was faring with her distant relatives and her new city.

“You’ve been quiet all day,” Adam said when we stopped for the night.  “Something on your mind?”

“Not really.  I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know … everything, I guess.  I was thinking about Mei and wondering how she was gettin’ along with her twice-removed cousin or whatever he’s called.”

By now, Adam had the fire going and a pot of coffee started.  I’d grabbed beans and a slab of bacon.  “Want me to fry this up?”

“Be my guest,” he said.  “I’ll get the cups and plates.”

When we finished our supper, we each lay back against our saddles and wrapped our bedrolls around us.  Late autumn was an unpredictable time of year in the Sierra.  It could be blazing hot one day and a blizzard the next. We’d had good weather so far but still, the nights were cool and between the two of us, we would keep the fire going till morning.

“You mentioned something about Mei,” Adam said after he’d stretched out and gotten as comfortable as one could on the hard ground.

“Yeah … guess I did.”

“Have you heard anything from her?”

“No, well, just that first letter, telling me she arrived safely and her something, something removed cousin met her at the stage.”

“I’m sure she’s settled in by now, don’t you think?”

“I guess she is.”

“But you miss her.”

“Some …” I rolled from my back to my side and faced my brother.  “We were friends, Adam, nothing more but yeah, I miss her.”

“Maybe we should look her up.  Pay her a visit while we’re in town.”

“Ya think?”

“Why not?”

“Okay.”  Adam’s words made this whole trip worthwhile. I didn’t care about all the fancy women in San Francisco.  “We’ll look her up as soon as our business with Overton is finished.”

The night didn’t seem so cold after all.  I was excited to see Mei.  Maybe it seemed silly to Adam, but if he was willing to take time out of our vacation to visit her, that’s what we’d do.  At least Pa would be happy to know we’d kept on the straight and narrow and stayed away from the Barbary Coast.

The following morning, I felt refreshed and ready to move on.  I hurried Adam through breakfast; we broke camp early and were on our way.  I’d been excited to make the trip, but the thought of seeing Mei made the long ride all the easier.  Since Pa had given us an extra three days, we’d have plenty of time to visit, maybe have dinner, maybe even a buggy ride along the water.

Even though I wanted to get there as quickly as possible, we couldn’t push the horses on a trip like this.  We stopped at a way station one night, and we were up early and, on our way, the next morning.  After two more nights of sleeping on the ground, we were finally at our destination—San Francisco, the city on the bay.

““`

Business always comes before pleasure.  Adam and I found lodgings with a livery located right behind the two-story hotel.  It wasn’t fancy, not the type of lodgings my father would have preferred, but it served our purpose and besides, we were tired and hungry and didn’t want to look any further.  The best part was the restaurant, which was open twenty-four hours a day, just like in Virginia City, and located on the first floor of the building.

We opted for a suite—two beds and a sitting area with a fireplace and a small, round table if we decided to order in.  Even though the bedrooms were designed more for the ladies, with flowery paper on the walls and lace curtains fluttering in the windows, the large featherbed looked awfully good to me.  

I claimed first dibs on a bath, and when we were both presentable and rid of days of trail dust, we walked downstairs to the restaurant.  It was late in the evening and we each ordered the special, beef stew.  It wasn’t as good as Hop Sings, but neither of us complained, and we dug in like starving animals, cleaning our plates in no time.  I laughed at our lack of manners.  Pa would have skinned us alive if he’d seen the way we’d chowed down, especially in a public place.  When the waitress returned and said she had a cherry pie right out of the oven, my face lit up.  I told her to bring it on.

“A slice for each of you, then?”

“No,” I said.  “Bring the whole pie.”

““`

The following morning, Adam woke before I did and when I rolled over and opened my eyes, he was dressed and already reading the newspaper. Smells from the restaurant drifted up to our room, and it took only minutes for me to grab my clothes, grab Adam, and head back downstairs for another meal.

“I’ve already sent a message to Stanley Overton, letting him know we’ve arrived with the signed contracts.”

“Good,” I said, feeling a bit guilty about oversleeping for so long and not sending the message myself.  “I didn’t realize how tired I was last night until we polished off that entire pie.”

“Yeah—” Adam said, patting his middle.  “Hoss would be so proud.”

“So you think Overton will get back to us this morning?”

“I hope so.  I hate to leave the hotel until we get word.”

“Yeah,” I said.  “Guess you’re right.”  When we’d finished our breakfast, Adam and I both leaned back in our chairs content to sip coffee and wait for Overton’s reply.  The waitress came and filled our cups then asked if we wanted pie for dessert.

I was the first to answer.  “No!  I mean no thank you, ma’am, I mean miss.  I think we ate enough pie last night to last a lifetime.”

She smiled at Adam and me but moved on without comment.

It was nearly eleven o’clock before we heard back from Overton.  He invited us to join him for luncheon at his estate at 12:30 p.m.  Even though he was a good friend of Pa’s, he had several business ventures that didn’t include my father, so Adam and I just assumed we’d meet at some downtown office, but that wasn’t the case.  At first, we planned to saddle our mounts then Adam suggested we hail a cab instead.  The driver knew the city much better than either of us, and we wanted to be on time and get the business end of the trip out of the way.

We arrived promptly at 12:30, and we were led into the house by a young Chinese woman, who, with her tunic-style dress and soft, gentle mannerisms, reminded me of Mei.  She even looked a bit like Mei—a pretty girl, the same height and weight, and wore her hair pulled back and clipped in the same manner Mei had worn hers.

“This way, please,” she said softly, extending her hand toward the parlor. “Captain arrive promptly to entertain honorable guests.”

Her words sounded rehearsed, and I wondered how much English she spoke or understood.  A slight bow followed after Adam and I took our seats.  I watched the young lady as her quick, shortened steps led her out of the parlor through glass double doors and into another room of the house.

The furniture, although smaller in size than Adam and I were used to at home, was quite ornate and quite typical of prominent socialites, especially typical for a man like Stanley Overton, who obviously prided himself on excess.  Hoss would have had a hard time finding comfort in this crowded room of “dollhouse” furniture.  Oil paintings and black and white sketches decorated the walls, paintings of ships, old and new, from Viking to clipper.  I would remember Pa’s comment and not refer to them as boats when the discussion over the contract was in full swing.

Stanley Overton entered the room sporting confidence and wealth and made such a grand entrance you’d have thought he was royalty.  Adam and I stood out of respect, but it was hard for me to contain myself in such an incredibly formal setting and with such an odd sort of man moving toward us.

“You must be Joseph and Adam Cartwright,” he said.

“I’m Joseph,” I said, extending my hand.  “And this is my brother, Adam.”

“My goodness, young man.  I’d have thought the reverse.”

I glanced at Adam, but let the matter drop before I said something I’d regret. Because I was younger, I should just be the tagalong brother, but Pa had entrusted me with the contracts, not Adam.  This time, I was the man in charge and Adam served as the tagalong.

Overton stood taller than Hoss, and when he gripped my hand, his bulky fingers lingered longer than necessary.  There was something about him, his manner, the way he’d entered the room as if gliding like one of his mighty vessels on a quiet sea that unnerved me.  He was a bull of a man, one I’d never want to cross and hoped I’d never have to.  Maybe I was making something out of nothing, but he was an odd sort, and I wished for a short lunch and an even shorter discussion over timber.

“Have a seat, gentlemen.  Your father’s wire stated you brought the signed contracts with you, am I correct?”

Stanley Overton sat in the largest chair in the room—like a king on a throne, overseeing his subjects who would appear diminutive and insignificant.

“Yes, sir,” I said, standing and pulling the papers from inside my jacket pocket.  “Pa is prepared to start cutting timber as soon as you give him the go-ahead.”

“Fine,” Overton said.  “I’ve known your father for years.  I didn’t really need a signed copy of our agreement.  Ben’s word or one of his sons’ handshakes would have been sufficient for me, but it’s the other investors, you know.”

“Yes, Sir.  I understand completely.”  I winked at Adam, who had remained seated and quiet, letting me deal with Overton by myself.

I remained standing while the oversized man quickly scanned the contract and checked for Pa’s signature on the final page.  “Everything looks in order. I’ll have my lawyers check for any significant errors, but I see no problem in giving Ben the go-ahead by the end of the week.”

“That sounds fine, Mr. Overton,” I said, anxious to end the meeting.  “My brother and I will be staying over in San Francisco for a couple more days. You can reach us at the Belmont Hotel or if you feel more comfortable, you can wire Pa directly and let him know when you’d like him to begin milling the lumber.”

“Good, very good.  Now, let me treat you to the finest lunch this side of the Mississippi.”

By the time Adam and I left Overton’s house, we were exhausted.  Our host never stopped talking.  Apparently, he thought we’d be interested in Overton Enterprises, which we couldn’t have cared less about.  The man was long-winded and boring, and I was never so glad to escape someone’s company as I was his.

Adam and I both noticed how he treated the young Chinese girl who served our meal.  We had never treated Hop Sing less than honorable or made him feel less valuable than anyone in our family, but Overton was a different type of man.  Sitting with him during lunch and listening to him belittle this poor girl was not only embarrassing but highly uncalled for.  He ridiculed her over everything when, in fact, neither Adam nor I ever found fault.

I remembered how his hand lingered on mine and how disgusting it felt to be handled in such an odd manner that I didn’t miss how freely his hand roamed over the young woman’s body every time she passed.  Her eyes never met his or ours, and her head remained constantly bowed in submission.

When Overton laughingly mocked her, telling us how hard it was to secure good help in a city overflowing with immigrants who knew nothing of our customs or our general way of life, I nearly stood up to leave.  Adam gently shook his head when he caught my reaction and at one point, I felt the tip of my brother’s boot knock sharply against my leg.  For Pa’s sake, I wouldn’t make a scene even though I found it increasingly difficult to keep my thoughts to myself.

““`

“What an ass,” I said when we were far enough away from Overton’s estate that I wouldn’t be overheard.

Adam chuckled at my comment.  “I have to agree.”

“Why does Pa do business with a man like that?”

“I have a feeling Pa doesn’t realize the type of man Overton has become. Money and power can change a man, Joe.  Pa hasn’t seen him for years. They were shipmates before I was born.  They’ve kept in touch, though—the shipbuilder and the land baron—but that’s as far as it goes.”

“Well, we’ve done our part.  I’ll be glad if I never have to lay eyes on him again.  The way I feel now, I don’t even want to see his stupid old boat when it’s finished.”

“Come on,” Adam chortled.  “There’s a place I want to show you.”

“What kinda place?”

“One guaranteed to lift your spirits.”

The concert hall was filled to capacity.  A dozen or more dancing girls kicked their heels high over their heads—their skirts, barely knee-length—and every inch of crinoline flashed as they bounded across the stage to the beat of a tinny piano.  Adam and I sat back and enjoyed the show and, just like in a saloon or anywhere else a man could take pleasure in the wonders of a woman’s near-naked limbs, men whooped and hollered and carried on like crazed animals.

But even as I watched the show, I couldn’t help thinking of the young women who worked for Overton, the way he treated them, pawing at them without restraint or embarrassment in front of guests.  I’d seen more Chinese girls working in the kitchen.  The house was a steady flow of young women, too many for one man’s house.  I was more anxious than ever to find Mei and get the hell out of San Francisco.

““`

Adam and I rode out early the following morning.  Neither of us knew exactly where to start looking in a city bursting with newcomers.  Naturally, we headed for Chinatown, but we were soon at a loss as to how to communicate and ask the proper questions in order to find our way. “Shoulda brought Hop Sing with me instead of you,” I said out of frustration.

“Patience, little brother.  We’ll find her.”

“Me and patience ain’t the best of friends right now, Adam.”

Mei was a very common name like Sally or Martha in our culture.  And, what made things even worse, so was the surname Wong.  We’d already been to two houses of Wong, and we were heading to a third just down the alleyway.  This next house was much larger, boasting picturesque architecture and considerably more ornate than the first two smaller homes we’d come across.  A delicately carved wooden front door rather than a set of fancy beads or panels of cloth also enhanced the beauty of this Chinese structure.  I lifted the brass knocker.

“I hope this is it,” I said.  “I didn’t realize it would be this hard to find her.”

Adam nodded, and when I saw he’d removed his hat, I did the same.  “This isn’t Virginia City, Joe.”  The door opened, and a young woman stood to greet us.  Before I could ask any questions, an older woman stepped up beside her, but the younger one spoke first.

“May I help you?”

“My name is Joe Cartwright,” I said, once again impressed with the woman’s English when Adam and I had struggled to make our way here.  “And this is my brother, Adam.  We’re trying to locate someone.  A girl.”

“No girl here,” the old woman shouted.  “Go ‘way!  Find other girl.”

“A friend.  I’m looking for a friend.  Her name is Mei … family of Wong.”

“Go ‘way,” she said, shooing Adam and me out of the doorway with her hands.  “No girl here.”

The younger woman, who had kept her eyes lowered while the old woman spoke, quickly glanced up at me and then looked back toward the floor.  If only I could speak to her alone, but the old woman wasn’t allowing me that chance.

“Do you know where I might find her?”  I asked.

“No girl.  Scat!” she said before slamming the door in our faces.

I jammed my hands to my hips and faced my brother.  “She’s here in this house.”

“What?”

“She’s here,” I repeated.

“Why would the old woman lie?”  Adam asked.  “I think you’re imagining things, Joe.”

“She’s here, Adam.”

I started around the side of the house, but Adam grabbed hold of my arm.  “Where do you think you’re going?”

“She’s here.  That girl looked up at me when I mentioned her name.  She knows something.  She was trying to tell me something.”

“Joe, be sensible.  We don’t need any trouble here in Chinatown.  Come on, let’s go.”

“No!”

I pulled my arm away and edged down the alleyway between two houses.  It was a narrow space, and Adam was forced to follow behind.  I saw two girls working in the garden behind the house, but neither appeared to be Mei.  Adam grabbed at me again, and I turned to meet his gaze.

“We’re asking for trouble.”

“Let go of me, Adam.”

I didn’t want trouble, but I wouldn’t be satisfied until I knew more.  I jerked my arm away for the second time as I peered around the back of the house. There were two outbuildings.  One, possibly a tool shed, I wasn’t sure.  I glanced across the yard to a second structure where smoke rose from a small stone chimney near the rear of the tiny, wooden building.  The two girls in the garden kept a steady pace as they packed vegetables into wicker baskets.  Never once did they look up.  When I took a step forward, Adam held me back again.  This time, I couldn’t shake him off.

“Joe, think!  Use your head.”

“She’s my friend, Adam.  If they’re holding her captive, if they’ve made her their slave—”

“Joe.  You know nothing of the kind.”

Adam was right.  We couldn’t just barge in like a couple of hooligans.  We’d probably be killed on the spot and our bodies dumped in the sea before nightfall.  “You have a better idea?”

Adam shook his head.  “No.”

I saw no other choice; I took his advice for now, but before we made our way back down the alleyway, the younger woman who’d answered the door called out.  “Wait.”

I turned around.

“You look for Mei?”

“Yes.”

“You friend?”

“Yes.”

“Mei not here,” she said in a whispered voice.  “She sold.”

“Sold?”  I glanced back at Adam.

“Mei slave girl.  Bring plenty money to honorable cousin.”

Before I lost my temper completely or burst inside the house to find honorable cousin, Adam calmly asked another question.  “How long ago was she sold?”

The girl thought for a minute.  “When time to plant.”

“Planting crops?  Last spring?”  Adam waited for the woman to respond.  She nodded her head.  “Will you tell us who owns her or how we might find her?”

The word ‘own’ hit me hard.  What happened to all men are created equal? What the hell kind of world was this?  I kept silent; outbursts would get us nowhere.

“You indeed friend with Mei?  You no hurt?”

“I assure you,” I said.  “She’s my friend.  We’re only here to help her.”

The girl glanced over her shoulder, making sure we were still alone and no one was listening.  “She live in big house.”

“Whose house?”

Again, Adam held my arm when I stepped forward and nearly frightened the woman to death.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean—“

“It okay.  He big man with many servant girl.  Have much money and live in big house.  Mei very pretty girl.  He pay much for her.”

“Do you know the man’s name?”  Adam asked.

“Yes.  He name Captain.”

“Captain?”

“Yes.  Captain Overton.”

“Oh, God,” I mumbled, hoping the woman didn’t overhear my silent cry.

Adam took a deep breath before thanking the woman and handing her a twenty-dollar gold piece.  “Thank you.  You’ve been very helpful.”

“You find Mei?  You take away?”

“Yes,” Adam said.  “We’ll make sure she’s safe.”

The girl pocketed the gold piece, turned, and hurried back behind the house.  Adam and I moved quickly also, making ourselves scarce since we had the information we’d come for.

“I should have known, Adam.  Every girl in that house was young, pretty, and Chinese. “

“I know, Joe.  I saw the same thing you did.”

““`

Neither of us had much of an appetite, so we’d opted for a bottle of whiskey and holed up in our suite rather than having supper in the restaurant.  We needed a way to approach Overton, a decent strategy, which neither of us could come up with.  “So how do we get her back?”  I was frustrated; I’d never felt so helpless before.  We were each on our third shot of whiskey and getting no closer to orchestrating a plan.  Adam sat like he always did, frozen like a statue when he needed to think, while I paced back and forth across the carpeted room.

“We’ll pay a visit to Overton tomorrow morning,” Adam said.  “It’s possible he’s a reasonable man and he’ll let her go or … if need be, we’ll offer him the same amount of money he initially paid Mei’s cousin.”

“You think he’ll, I mean … you think it will be that easy?”

“We can try.”

“Yeah.”  I didn’t have the same confidence as Adam but like my brother, I saw no other choice.  I wasn’t about to let Mei suffer that man’s groping hands and demeaning comments a day longer than necessary.

When the bottle was empty, we both turned in for the night.  Tomorrow would be a very trying day.  I lay away, and even with half a bottle of whiskey to dull my senses, I couldn’t sleep.  The room was dark when I crawled out of bed and made my way to Adam’s room.

“Adam?  You asleep?”

The blanket moved slightly as my brother rolled from his side to his back.  “I was.”

“Well,” I said, sitting down on his bed and nervously worrying my hands on my lap.  “I was thinking.”

“That’s very good, Joe.”

Adam’s voice was deep and groggy from sleep, but I knew he’d at least listen to what I had to say.  “Do you think he’s … I mean … since we didn’t see Mei serving lunch or working in the kitchen, do you think he, well, what do you think she does there?”

“Joe.”  Adam leaned up on one elbow.  “I know nothing more than you do, so let’s not get carried away.  We’ll find out tomorrow … that’s if we get any sleep tonight.”

“All right.  I just keep thinking what if—”

“Don’t.”

The conversation was over, I walked back to my bed, pulled up the covers, and hoped sleep would come, a dreamless sleep where men of excess didn’t exist.  A world where men like Stanley Overton, who preyed upon the innocence of young women because wealth and power permitted him the opportunity, whirled through my mind and kept me awake most of the night.

““`

“No cab,” I said.  “I’d rather walk.”

I hadn’t slept much, and my nerves were raw.  I needed time to unwind before we confronted Overton, my father’s friend, and an opportunity for the Ponderosa to make a considerable profit over the next several months.

Pa trusted me to deliver the contract, and I knew what this deal meant to him.  We’d had a bad winter, and when I’d overheard him talking to Adam, eavesdropping Pa called it, I found out what he and Adam had kept to themselves for weeks.  I was old enough to know we were in trouble and that night, hiding in the hallway, I found out just how serious the trouble was. Cash flow was down, and we only had a few more weeks to go before Pa would have to start laying off men; men he called friends, men who’d been with us for years.  

“If we begin cutting back next month, we can probably make ends meet,” Pa said.  “If not, I’m afraid—”

I got the picture, loud and clear.  This was a very important contract, and I was on the verge of messing things up for not only my father but all of us. We were all in this together.  The Ponderosa was important, but so was Mei’s future, and I wanted to secure that future no matter what.  The Ponderosa would survive.  I wasn’t so sure about Mei.

“Now,” Adam said as we approached Overton’s estate.  “Don’t go bustin’ in there like a fire-eatin’ bull.”

“I ain’t a kid, Adam.  I know how to conduct myself but remember this, I’m not leaving without Mei.”

“Joe, listen for once.”  Adam held my arm, stopping me cold.  “Let me do the talking.  You’re too wound up, and we’ll get nowhere fast if you unleash your temper on Overton.”

I was breathing hard, and although I’d never admit how “wound up” I really was, sometimes Adam knew me better than I knew myself.  “Okay.  You talk.”  I’d give my brother the first shot to convince the man we meant business.

A tall Chinese girl opened the front door.  She bowed slightly.

“We’ve come to speak with Mr. Overton,” Adam said.

“He no expect visitor today.”

“You’re absolutely right, but if he’s available, my brother and I would like to have a word.”  Adam was cool and calm.  He played his part well.

“Wait here please.”

She closed the door, and we waited on the front steps under a grand-scale portico with four large, white columns.  I pulled off my hat and raked my fingers through my hair, a nervous habit I often carried out without even thinking.  How Adam kept his voice so composed during such strained situations was a trait I might never possess.  

When the girl returned, she opened the door wide and motioned for us to come inside.  Again, we were escorted to the parlor where we sat and waited for Overton to make another grand appearance. Nearly half an hour passed, and, with a flourish, our host arrived and greeted us as though we were longtime friends.  Adam stood, and I followed suit.

“Gentlemen,” he said, extending his hand first to Adam and then to me. Again, he held mine overlong.  “I’m sorry to keep you waiting.  I was, let’s say … engaged in personal matters and couldn’t break free.”

Stanley Overton was dressed in a silk robe tied at the waist, and though he wore trousers and boots, I knew exactly what he’d been engaged in when Adam and I arrived.  I prayed his dalliance hadn’t been with Mei.

“I’m afraid my attorney hasn’t returned the contract yet, boys, and I was taking a little time to enjoy the pleasantries of life.  You gentlemen must have private lives of your own, am I correct?”

Adam skipped right over his comments and got straight to the point.  “Please excuse us for dropping by unannounced, but my brother and I have a different matter to discuss, a personal matter, you might say.”

“A personal matter?  Ooh, sounds intriguing.  Take a seat, gentleman.  May I offer you coffee or does something a bit stronger suit your taste?”

Adam glanced at me and then back at our host.  “Nothing at the moment, thank you.”

“May I ask what this is all about or are you going to string me along and make me guess what your boys are up to?  I adore playing games, you know.  Makes life more interesting.”

The man was even more absurd today than he’d been yesterday.  Just sitting in the same room made me wish Pa and he had never met all those years ago.  As if on cue, as if expected, a young woman walked into the parlor and stood next to Overton’s chair.  Adam and I both watched his oversized hand move up her backside and encircle her waist.  She didn’t flinch and seemed to ignore him, caressing her in that way.

Adam cleared his throat.  “I’ll get right to the point.  This is a personal matter involving one of your servant girls.”

Overton smiled.  “One of my girls?  Oh my, this just gets better and better. What did you have in mind, young man?  Something your father might call an illicit tryst or liaison?  Of course, here you are in San Francisco, a city bursting its seams with the onslaught of sin and immoral behavior.”

“Not exactly,” Adam said, trying not to notice the young woman and Overton’s despicable behavior.

My temper rose, and I wanted to flatten the beast before he said another word, but I’d promised Adam, and I thought about Pa.  I took a deep breath as Overton continued his offensive banter.

“Mind you, I don’t offer my young ladies to anyone, do I, Princess?”  Overton literally lifted the girl off her feet and placed her on his lap.  “All my girls are Princesses, lovely, soft-spoken, and eager to please.”

“There’s just one young lady, in particular, my brother and I would like to discuss.”

I averted my eyes when Overton felt the need to adjust himself while the girl sat on his lap.  “I’m sorry, boys, you’ll have to excuse me, but this little princess is making me mighty uncomfortable.  But do go on, what were you saying?”

The man’s hands slowly roamed the young woman’s body.  She never moved away or raised her head to make eye contact with either of us.  I’d never seen anything like this, not even a drunken cowboy in a local saloon would put on such a public display without getting his face slapped or worse.  Adam cleared his throat again and tried speaking although the distraction caused his voice to falter.

“Joe and I have a good friend,” he said, trying not to notice the obvious.  “A young Chinese girl we knew in Virginia City—” Adam stopped to take a breath.  He struggled to keep to the subject at hand.  “Um, she came to live with relatives here in San Francisco, and we’ve been told—“

Adam’s explanation was cut short when Overton suddenly rose from his chair.  “I’ll only be a moment, boys.  Sit back and relax.  Pour yourselves a drink.”

The man’s forehead was beaded with sweat as he grabbed the woman’s wrist and led her out of the parlor and into another room of the house.  He left with a full erection and didn’t bother to conceal his intentions from the two of us.

“I’m sorry, Adam, but contract or no contract, I’m taking Mei home with me today.”  I stood up from my chair and stared in the direction Overton had disappeared.  The man’s grunts could be heard clear into the parlor.  I thought I might be sick.

““`

“My apologies,” Overton said upon returning to his chair.  “You know how distractions of that nature have to be dealt with immediately.  I appreciate your patience, and I hope you found the liquor cabinet satisfactorily stocked.”

Neither Adam nor I spoke, nor had we made our way to the cabinet.

“You’re both young men, and I?  Lord, I’m your father’s age, but age hasn’t deterred me from enjoying life’s little pleasures.”

“May we continue?”  Adam said courtly.

“Certainly, but the way I understand it, you have come to see one of my girls. Am I correct?  And what’s your plan, to occupy her bed?  As I stated before, these are servant girls bought and paid for and are quite content to live under my roof.  I’ve improved their lot in life by keeping them off the streets and by offering them a decent home.  None of my girls have ever once asked to leave this house.”

“First, we’d like to know if the young lady lives here; and second, we have no intention of bringing the girl harm, but we’d feel more comfortable taking the young lady with us back to Virginia City.

“And who might this young lady be?”

“Her name is Mei,” I said overloud.

“Ahh, the young one speaks so my guess is she’s actually your friend, not older brother’s.”

Adam glared at me first and then spoke.  “That’s correct,” Adam said, “but I also have an interest in this young lady’s welfare.”

“I do have such a young lady living here and yes, she goes by that name.  A most lovely princess, and one I honor dearly and have been saving for a special occasion.”

“We’re willing to pay for her release,” Adam said.  “Whatever you paid her cousin, we’re offering the same.”

“You misunderstand, Mr. Cartwright.  I pay for services rendered. Every one of my girls puts in a full day’s work whether it’s gardening, cooking, cleaning, or whatever needs to be taken care of in a house this size.”

“What about the girl who was in this room?  What’s her job?”

Overton smiled.  “As I mentioned before, every girl performs a certain task.  Some prefer not to get their hands dirty.  Some of my girls prefer to become princesses.”

I was on my feet.  “I don’t see it that way, Mr. Overton.  I see a house full of young women you use at your convenience.  Now, my brother made you a decent offer.  How much to buy Mei back?”

“Oh, the young, so naïve, so idealistic.  She’s not for sale at any price.”

“Then you admit she lives here.”

“I believe this meeting is over.  Lilly will show you to the door.”

Overton stood and adjusted the tie on his robe.  He turned his back and walked out of the room.

““`

By the time we returned to the hotel, the sun blazed in the afternoon sky, but my temper blazed hotter than ever before.  “That went well,” I said.

Adam sighed.  “I’m sure Overton has ways of keeping those girls in his possession and nobody, not even the police found a way to break through those walls.  If he has every girl listed as an employee and shows a monthly wage for services rendered, I don’t know how we’re going to get Mei out legally.”

“Well, we can’t just leave her there, Adam.”

“I should wire Pa.”

Adam’s casual remark made no sense.  “Why?  What’s Pa gonna do besides tell us to mind our own business?”

Adam chuckled softly and nodded his head.  “You’re probably right, but Pa should be aware of the problem we’ve run into since he and Overton are planning to become business associates.”

My mind wasn’t on contracts, and I didn’t really want to hear back from my father.  This was serious business, and I couldn’t let ships and timber get in the way of what had to be done.  “I’ll go back tonight, sneak into the house, and drag her out.”

“Come on, Joe.  You know you’ll only end up in jail for breaking and entering, not to mention kidnapping.  Overton knows we want Mei.  He’s going to be on guard and take every precaution to keep her as far away from you as possible.”

“I could be in and out in no time; no one would be the wiser.”

Maybe Adam didn’t need to know all the details.  Maybe this was something I had to do without big brother’s help.  I wondered why none of the women had tried to escape.  Surely, they weren’t happy there, and it suddenly struck me.  Had Overton drugged his girls?  Were they dependent on him for … I don’t know, morphine, laudanum, or opium?  I kept my thoughts to myself for now.  I wasn’t sure about anything at this point.

“Let’s go eat some lunch,” Adam said, dismissing my comment.  “We both need time to think.”

“Fine.”

Adam took hold of my shoulders and turned me to face him straight on.  “I’m only trying to keep you alive.  Don’t try something foolish.”

The remainder of the day passed slowly.  Adam suggested things we could do and things we could see, but I wasn’t interested in playing tourist.  He could go, it was his vacation too, but I opted out of his sightseeing tours.  It seemed like a waste of time, and I was in no mood to spend the next two days of vacation trying to act like I cared about anything except Mei. Overton was saving her for a special occasion.  What the occasion might be drove me insane.

After a quiet dinner, Adam gave up on me and my ill-tempered mood and stepped outside for some much-needed air.  I couldn’t blame him; I’d been a bear ever since we were ushered out of Overton’s estate. When my brother returned, I had already climbed into bed and waited for him to do the same.  As soon as he turned in and I heard a gentle snore coming from his end of the suite, I dressed and left the hotel.

““`

My brother had been right.  There were two guards with rifles positioned under the portico at the front entrance; another two men were stationed and armed toward the rear of the house.  Next to the portico were oak trees on either side.  I took a chance.  

I shimmied up the tree noiselessly, taking care not to snap a twig or even let a dried, autumn leaf fall from any of the oak’s sturdy branches.  I stepped onto the portico before crouching down onto a narrow extension of the roof, which jutted out about two feet between the first and second stories of the house.  Not knowing where Overton might be this time of night, I silently entered through a window of a darkened room on the second floor.

It was past midnight, and the house was still.  Luckily, I’d picked a room where two girls slept with no sign of Overton in sight.  I covered one of the girls’ mouths with the palm of my hand so she wouldn’t scream.  “I won’t hurt you,” I whispered.  “Please don’t make a sound.”  Her eyes were wide with fright as I slowly moved my hand anyway.  “I’m looking for Mei; she’s somewhere in this house.”

The girl’s eyes shifted to the other bed in the room.  Could I really be that lucky?  “Is that her?”  She nodded her head as she grabbed hold of the blanket, tucking it tightly up under her chin.

I slipped across to the other bed and covered Mei’s mouth in the same fashion.  Her body jerked under the covers until she saw my face.  Her eyes widened, just as the other girls had before, but I was greeted tenderly when she wrapped her arms around my neck.  “Joe,” she whispered.  “Joe.”

“I’m so glad I found you.”  I kept my voice low, but we didn’t have time for chitchat, and even though the room was dark, Mei stared into my eyes and held me tight.

“We found out you’d been sold and … has he hurt you?”  Her eyes sank to her chest, but she shook her head no.  I knew it was only a matter of time.  “I’m taking you outta here tonight.”

“No,” she said, clutching the sleeves of my jacket.  “Too much risk.”

“Just get dressed and follow me.”  I didn’t have time for a discussion.  We had to keep quiet, and we had to keep moving.”  Without making a sound, Mei crawled out of her bed and slipped on a black tunic and black slacks.  “Out the window,” I said.

The other girl remained silent.  She hadn’t moved a muscle or said a word since I’d spoken to her.  Mei lifted her leg over the sill and ducked her head under the panes of glass.  I followed right behind.

“Hold it right there, Mr. Cartwright.”

With only one leg over the sill, I glanced back into the room. Overton had planted himself in the doorway, holding a gun in one hand and a lamp in the other.  I had no doubt he would shoot.  I leaned back into the room and, with both feet back on the floor, I helped Mei back inside.

Overton took a step forward and set the lamp on a table just inside the bedroom door.  He stood buck-naked; the creamy glow of light illuminated his sallow skin, skin that draped loosely over rolls of useless fat.  No wonder no one tried to leave the estate.  The girls never stood a chance.  Between Overton and his guards, I figured he’d rather see them dead than attempt an escape.

“I suggest you stand right where you are, Mr. Cartwright.  I have a hair trigger and a hair temper, and I’ve been known to shoot prowlers on sight.”

I saw shadows first, and then two men flanked Overton on either side, each holding rifles across their chests.  Mei stayed in my shadow, gripping the back of my jacket.  I shook my head in defeat and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“As you should be, young man.”

I glared at Overton with disgust.  I failed, and I feared Mei would suffer the consequences because of my stupidity or maybe insanity, thinking I could pull this off alone.  Overton dropped the gun to his side and studied me long and hard.

“As I mentioned earlier today, my girls are not for sale, and what you fail to realize, Mr. Cartwright, none of my young ladies want to leave my home. Their futures lie within these walls.  They’re given favors for obedience, loyalty, and for satisfying the needs of a very wealthy man.  These young women have no occupation other than to sell themselves to filthy, low-class patrons outside these walls.  It seems you have troubled yourself for nothing.”

I’d heard the speech before.  I wasn’t impressed then, and I certainly wasn’t now.

“I’m afraid you’ve gone too far, Mr. Cartwright.  You overstepped the boundaries of my good nature when you broke into my home. My old friend Ben Cartwright will never lay eyes on his youngest son again, and he will soon be void of a most lucrative contract.”  He turned slightly.  “Get him out of my sight.  Take him away and dispose of the body.”

Overton’s two goons came toward me while he and his fat, sagging body lumbered closer to Mei.  “I was going to save this little princess for something special but as you can clearly see, you’ve ruined any special plans I had for this young lady.  As soon as you’re whisked away, Mr. Cartwright, I’ll have her tonight, tomorrow, and every night thereafter.”

“You’re a bastard, Overton, a filthy, cold-hearted bastard, and I hope you rot in hell.”  I struggled against the men who’d pinned my arms behind my back. “You won’t get away with this.  My father won’t rest till you’re cold in the grave.”

Overton stepped forward and pulled my gun from its holster.  “You won’t be needing this, will you, son?”  He turned the pistol in his hand and slammed the butt between my legs.  I closed my eyes to the pain, and my breathing quickened as the two men held me tight and kept me from crumbling to the floor.

“Keep in mind who and what I’ll be enjoying while you slowly slip away from this world.  My men won’t spare you just as I won’t spare this little princess. Life is a game, Mr. Cartwright, and you lost the final round.  I’m sorry it has to be this way, but there seems to be no alternative.  You broke the rules, and you’ll pay with your life.”

““`

I was half-carried, half-dragged from the house.  I hadn’t regained all my senses when I was dumped into a covered carriage.  We rolled down the long tree-lined drive and eventually out of town.  One man drove the buggy while the other thought it was his place to taunt the hell out of me.

“Ever seen a man’s neck stretched before?  Ever seen a woman’s?”  He hesitated to chuckle at his own comments.  “Ever seen what happens just before that final breath?”

Two men followed on horseback, one on each side, and the steady clopping of hooves indicated they had a definite spot already picked out for my disposal.  My hands had been tied behind me, and I sat slumped on the bench seat, barely able to hold myself up as I tried to take in the moving landscape.  But the constant jarring made me dizzy and made it difficult to keep my eyes focused on where these men were heading.

“Man’s eyes bulge out and his lips puff up like melons.  First, he pees hisself then he has to vomit but when the rope’s pulled tight, he tries to swallow it back down.  That usually kills him right off.”

He was talking about a lynching, and this jokester made it sound like common practice.  The way he talked, he’d seen more than his share and was kind enough to explain his recollections to me.

“You thought you was gonna sneak that China girl out the window.  What kind of fool are you, boy?  The boss don’t let no one mess with his womenfolk.  You ain’t the first to meet your maker, and I s’pose you won’t be the last neither.”

I was going to die, slowly perhaps, but I was going to die.

We didn’t drive much farther, and the air soon became heavy with layers of fog.  When the carriage made its final stop, the jokester grabbed my arm and hauled me out into the open next to a giant sycamore tree.  Tam Lee.  “Just shoot me and get it over with,” I said.  God, I didn’t want to die like the young Chinaman.

“And miss all the fun?  You got it all wrong, boy.  This is where we hang unworthy Chinamen and sometimes them little princesses what decides to sneak out in the dead of night.  Hell, you ain’t no better than them dirty heathens.  Maybe your little princess will end up here too someday.”

“Ain’t never strung up a white man before.”

A new voice from behind startled me as I thought of Mei’s fate and cursed myself for playing the fool.  I started to turn when a rifle butt met with the back of my head.  I fell facedown; tasted blood as the toe of the joker’s boot slammed against my side.  I scrambled to move away when a boot heel scraped across my back to steady me while the joker’s boot crashed into the bone below my waist.  When I was pulled to my feet, both hands still secured behind my back, fists pummeled my face until my eyes were blinded, and all I saw was red.  There was only pain, sharp and throbbing.  I fell to the ground.

“Get him over here, Lou, and quit beatin’ on him.”

The joker must have been hard of hearing.  I’d heard every word, but he wasn’t quite finished with me yet.  He pulled a knife from a sheath on his waistband and knelt on one knee beside me.  My eyes stayed trained on the blade as it came up under my chin, forcing my head back into the dirt.

“How ‘bout I just slit your throat now and skip the hangin’?

I felt pressure as he nicked my skin like a first-time barber.  I couldn’t utter a word, though maybe slitting my throat would be a quicker death than hanging.  I took my final breath, waiting for him to play out the rest of his game.

“Louis!  Get your ass over here and bring him with you.”

Only a small trickle of blood slipped from under my chin when Louis, the joker, pulled me to my feet and dragged me to his friend who was looping the noose large enough to fit over my head.  After the rope dropped over my face, my hands were untied and with my feet still planted on the ground, I grabbed at the loop as they hoisted me up in the air.  But the rope didn’t tighten as I’d expected, and my fingers remained tucked up under my chin until I was at least three or four feet off the ground.

My muscles flexed involuntarily as if anything could help my cause.  I kicked my feet and scissored my legs back and forth, but to no avail.  My face burned like fire as I kept my fingers wound tightly against the rough hemp.  The rope was brand new, stiff, and coarse against my palms.

When a sudden cracking noise filled the air, I knew what was coming next. The decisive snap of a bullwhip or carriage whip, I didn’t know which, and I couldn’t see the men who stood behind me.  Their laughter surrounded me, as did the heavy layers of fog as the four men cackled like jaybirds.

Fire blazed through my entire body, and I spun just like Tam Lee when leather tendrils stung, marking deep lines across my back.  Repeatedly, I jerked and twirled through the air, but my hands remained steady, holding the rope at bay.

My head rolled to the side, and my eyes pleaded to no one for mercy.  I was lost in pain, and my final thoughts were of Mei and how I’d betrayed her. And, of course, my father, who would deal with a lifetime of guilt for sending me instead of delivering the contracts himself.

“That’s enough already,” someone said.  “This boy’s good as dead.”

““`

Those were their final words before the carriage pulled away.  And, for the remainder of my life, I’d been left to swing in the cool night air, gasping for breath until I breathed my last.  At times, I fell unconscious, and with a sudden jolt, I shook myself awake.  If I slept, I would surely die.

Not long ago, dying had been my intention.  Adam never should’ve stopped me that day he walked into my room.  A simple shot of morphine sounded so much more humane than swinging from the end of a rope.  I was prepared to die when I heard about Jess. But now, things were different.  I was finding my way back to the man I used to be.

“No,” I cried into the thick, night air.  “Not this way …”

My fingers ached and longed for relief as tremors pulsed relentlessly through my shoulders, causing both arms to tremble as tightened muscles quivered repeatedly.  My legs hung heavy, and my left hip, bruised after being struck by the joker’s boot, was a constant source of aggravation.

Asleep awake, asleep awake … Mama?

Blood pounded through a vein in my forehead as I tilted my head farther back so I could gulp in quick breaths of wet, heavy air.  I cried for my father, for him to hold my shaking legs and end this night of torment, but my words fell silent, and only an old hoot owl answered back.  How much longer could I hold on; how much more could I take?

Although my boots weren’t far from the ground, it may as well have been a mile.  My clothes had become damp and heavy, pulling at my shoulders as the night drew on.  While salty beads of sweat dripped into my eyes and down across the cut on my neck, I held tighter to the noose until my fingers cramped and felt as though they’d snap like brittle twigs.

Had a gunfighter called me out on the street, it would have been an honorable way to die; I would have had a fighting chance—the code of the West.  The code—the damnable code—served man well.  This was no way for a man to die.

““`

Asleep awake, asleep awake …

“Joe—”

Melons—my fingers throbbed and felt as thick and round as melons, just like the jokester had predicted.  I pictured my lips looking the same—puffy and raw—and I wondered … had my eyes bulged out of their sockets?  I almost laughed out loud.  Here I was dying, maybe I was already dead, and for some reason, melons consumed my thoughts.

A voice sounded next to my ear.  “Can you hear me, Joe?”

“I hear you.”  But my voice was silent.  I’d sound like a crazy man if I spoke aloud to the angels.

The voice was deep and familiar, and with death came fantasy, and I leaned in to savor the words.  The repetition of my name sang through the heavens and brought peace and a sense that I could rest easy forever.  And though I couldn’t stand alongside my family, my flesh and blood went from my body, they would always remember and always keep me in their hearts.

Thank God Pa wouldn’t have to see me like this.  No one should, especially family.  Let them remember a strong and healthy nineteen-year-old who lived and loved the world around him.  Let them bury me next to Mama, where trees grow tall and wildflowers flourish.  Let them remember me with fondness and not grieve my passing for too long.

“Joe?  Joe?”

“I’m right here.  I hear you loud and clear.”

“Come on, Joe.  Wake up.  Open your eyes, kid.”

There was pain, a world of pain, and I tried to move away not understanding how such agony could rip through a man’s body when he was already dead. Was God displeased?  Had he turned me away?  A weight pressed against my chest, confusing me even more as I thrashed against the endless agony consuming my entire body.

“You’re all right now.  Try not to move.”

The voice—even the angels were not pleased.

“Just lie still, Joe.  You’re gonna make it through this.”

But the voice was so real; the fantasy faded away when I turned my head, hoping once again for soothing words.  Something swept across my forehead and lingered as angels teetered above like playful marionettes before vanishing into the night sky.  I reached my hands over my head, begging them not to go, but they fluttered their delicate wings and took flight. Tears streaked my face as I fought the red veil and tried to comprehend my surroundings, but I only saw images haloed in deep crimson.  I blinked and I blinked, and I raised heavy hands to my eyes.

“Easy now.”

There was pressure against my arms; my hands were forced to my sides.  Through heavy eyelids, I tried again to place the voice, to sense someone near, to feel the sweeping touch, and to see the angles above.

“Your hands are bandaged, Joe.  Don’t try to move them any more than necessary.”

“Adam?”  I tried to reach out to my brother’s voice.

“Easy, Joe.”

“Adam?”  I called out his name but still, there was silence.  I was only mouthing the words, not even a whisper passed my lips.

“Doctor?  He’s waking up.  I’m right here, Joe.”  It sounded like my brother although his voice was distant, and nothing showed but the crimson-colored haze.  And then the pain, the never-ending pain, forced me to shout to whoever would listen, but I couldn’t find my voice.  There were footsteps coming near, but I couldn’t escape the next round of torture. Maybe the jokester would bring an end to it all with the tip of his blade.

“This is going to be a confusing and restless time for your brother, Mr. Cartwright.”

“Please, call me Adam.”

“All right.  Without morphine or laudanum, we’re going to have to keep him as calm and quiet as possible, as if he were sedated.  It’s not just the hanging, it’s the beating and the whipping he took, also”

“I understand, Doctor, but I see no other choice.  I’ve told you what my brother’s been through, and you’ll have to trust me on this.”

“I’ll abide by your decision, but I’ll tell you one thing that’s certain.  Neither of us would want to be in your brother’s shoes right now.  He’s got a few rough days ahead of him before the pain subsides and he’s coherent enough to make sense or understand his situation.”

I heard the word morphine, but all the words ran together in a murky sea. There was no clarity, no inflection, and no repetition of meaningful words. Maybe the angels were here to help me, to sway Adam in the right direction, to end the pain now and forever.

“There’s nothing more I can do for your brother.  He needs water, plenty of water, and when he can sit up, we’ll try some of my wife’s chicken soup, but that won’t be for a while.  The bandages are secure and if you can keep him still and not moving about, he’ll do fine.  It’s up to Joe now.”

There was pressure on my arm, a gentle squeeze.  “Pa?”  Had my father come to say goodbye?  I couldn’t form the words, but I didn’t want my father here; he couldn’t see me like this.  Tam Lee

“I’ll leave you in charge if you’re okay with that, Adam.  I need to leave for a couple of hours.  My wife will be here in the house, and she can answer most questions should any arise.”

“Thank you, Doctor.  We’ll be fine.  Oh, one more thing.  You’d said something earlier about Joe’s eyes.  I’m not sure I was paying close enough attention at the time to fully understand.”

“I’ll make this a simple explanation if I can.  Your brother was severely beaten before he was … hanged.  Then, with the pressure of the noose for hours on end, his eyes hemorrhaged. What that means is tiny blood vessels burst, and the blood took residence in both eyes.  It’s only a temporary condition, and his sight will return although I can’t say when.”

“Thanks, Doc.  We’ll be fine while you’re gone.”

““`

“Adam?”

I tried to sit up, but I was forced back down.  “Lie still, Joe.  You’re in a clinic, and you’re safe.  No one will find you here.”

My back burned like hellfire when I was pushed back down.  I thought my eyes were open, but nothing was clear.  I reached for Adam, for the voice, although he pushed my hands back down to my sides.

“You’re safe, Joe; I won’t leave you.  The men who did this to you, they won’t find you here.”

Adam held my head off the pillow and a glass to my lips.  I tried to speak his name after the first drink of water.  He quickly touched the glass to my mouth again.

“Don’t try to talk.  Just rest, little brother, and let me do the talking for now.”

All I could do was stare.  It seemed I had no voice, even if I wanted to talk.  I couldn’t see; I couldn’t talk, but I could clearly smell the antiseptic odor of a doctor’s office.  What the hell was wrong with me now?  Adam’s hand rested on my chest for good measure, I guess.  For sure, he wasn’t letting me out of this bed.

“Let me fill you in on what I know, Joe.  You just lie still.”

I nodded my head and tried to relax, tried to slow my breathing, and just listen to my brother’s voice.

“I found you three days ago.  I brought you to this clinic, and Doctor Spencer has been taking care of you, but he had to leave for a while this morning.  He’ll be back later to check on you.  My job is to keep you lying still.”

Three days?  I had no memory.

“You can probably feel the bandages, but I’ll explain anyway.”  Adam’s hand moved to my arm and stopped there.  “Your chest is bound.  Doc doesn’t think your ribs are broken, but they could be cracked so as a precaution, they’re wrapped for now.”  I started to lift my hand, but Adam stayed my arm.  “Your fingers were obviously in bad shape, and both hands are bandaged, but the doc sees no permanent damage.”

Through a foggy haze, I stared at my brother.  I blinked repeatedly, trying to focus, but nothing changed.  Everything, including Adam, was a blurred concoction of wavy images.

“You’re wondering about your eyes, right?  It’s a long explanation but the short of it is, your vision will return.  It just takes time, so you’ll have to be patient.  I know it’s hard to understand right now, and I know you can’t speak, but the doc says your voice should come back also.  He doesn’t want you to strain yourself, trying to force words through your larynx.  There’s been an obvious strain so you’ll just have to let me do all the talking.”

“This boy’s as good as dead.”  I remembered those final words, but I wasn’t dead.  Adam had found me.  Even though I was with my brother now, the memories were fresh in my mind.  I’d been left for dead, gasping for every breath—asleep awake, asleep awake—keeping hold of the noose and never expecting this day would come.

My body jerked involuntarily, and I found myself desperate for air.  I reached for my neck, for the rope, and looked toward the night sky. I couldn’t breathe. I grabbed harder, harder still, but the rope wouldn’t budge.  My fingers were paralyzed and wouldn’t take hold.

“Joe!  Stop!  Joe!  No.”  Adam seized my arms and pulled them away.  Tears filled my eyes as I struggled to breathe.  “Joe.  You’re okay.  Stop fighting. It’s only a bandage around your neck.  You have to leave it alone.”

Although I closed my eyes, my mind raced through visions I tried to introduce as fact.  I was alive; that was a fact.  I was listening to Adam; that, too, was a fact.  I could hear my own breathing, raspy and loud, in and out, like a steam engine gathering speed, but the nightmare continued to haunt me.

~~~

Adam talked me through the difficult times.  He explained about the morphine and why my recovery had been so grueling, so difficult.  I suppose my brother used good sense by telling the doc, but I felt embarrassed, knowing there had been discussions about my private life without my knowledge.  Addict or not, I should have been asked what I thought.

The bandages were still in place; my ribs, my neck, and my hands left me helpless to do anything on my own.  I was dependent on my brother for everything, even choices I might have made differently. The doc was in and out, checking on me and replacing the dressings when needed, especially the deeper slits that still burned my back.  Today was the real test.  I was allowed to move and sit in the upholstered chair my brother had occupied all week.

It had been five days since Stanley Overton had forced me out of his home, leaving Mei to fend for herself.  Although I hadn’t been able to ask questions, the doc gave me the okay to try my voice.  “Go slowly and try not to strain any muscles,” he said.

Sitting on the edge of the bed took effort, and when Adam helped me to my feet, I had to wrap my arm around my brother’s waist. Just taking a few steps made me realize how weak I’d become, how helpless and frail after such a short period.  My hands were immobile and thick like wearing oversized gloves; they lay in my lap, useless.  I felt the pull in my ribs as soon as I sat down, which made my breathing shallow and short.

“You okay sitting up?”

I nodded my head.  The pressure was off my back, and I ran my tongue over dry, cracked lips—melons—and wondered if I looked like a freak from a carnival sideshow.  “Thir—“

“What’s?”

“Thir … thirsty.”

“Very good, Joe.”  Adam poured me a glass of water and held it to my lips.  “Keep trying new words.  It won’t take long before you’re rattling on as good as new.

“Yeah.  Not … e … z.”  It’s not that I had to think of the words; I had to force them out, one with each breath.

“More water?”

I shook my head.  “Mir … er.”

“What’s that?”

“Mir … er.”

“Mirror?”

I nodded.

“Don’t worry about any of that, Joe.  You and I are the only ones in the room.  The doc is letting us stay here until you’re ready to go back to the hotel.”

One word rattled my brain constantly.  “Mel … ons.”

“Hungry?  Doc’s wife made you some soup.  Stay put.  I’ll be right back.” Adam didn’t wait for an answer.  He walked out of the room, leaving me alone for the first time in five days.  A mirror hung over the highboy.  I stood, grabbed hold of the bed, made my way across the room, and leaned against the dresser, staring into the mirror when Adam walked back inside.  Although he was carrying a tray, he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me.  My image was blurry, my eyes still couldn’t focus properly, but I could see only a small resemblance to the man I was before.

“That’s enough, Joe.”  Adam set the tray on the bed and helped me back to the chair.  He pulled a chair in front of me and held the spoon of soup to my lips.  I stared back across the room at the mirror as tears slipped from my eyes.  “The bruising is only temporary, Joe.  The swelling goes down more each day.”

I stared at Adam.  I knew what I looked like, a freak, a clown; my face was twice its normal size.  My eyes were barely visible; my lips were white, cracked, and raw.  “Not … hun … gry.”

“Please try.”

Again, Adam lifted the spoon, and I let him feed me like a child, a baby, an animal.  The soup burned like shards of cut glass when I swallowed.  I closed my eyes and tried to think of anything but where I was and what was causing me pain.  “Sleep.”

“You want to lie down?”

I nodded.  Despite the warm soup, I was shivering.  The bed was right next to the chair, and I felt my way even though Adam steadied me, holding my arm until I was settled.  He pulled the covers up over my chest.  “Better?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

I didn’t have the energy to sit up and eat.  I felt like hell, and I didn’t have the strength to play games.  I couldn’t pretend I was anything more than an invalid who needed help doing the simplest things. The constant rattle in my chest made breathing difficult, and sitting up took energy I didn’t have.  “Tell … me.”

“What, Joe?  What do you want to know?”

“How … find … me?”

“Think you can stay awake?”  I nodded, and Adam took a seat on the edge of the bed.  “Well, when you weren’t in the suite, I had a pretty good idea where you’d gone.”

I forced a smile.

“I dressed and rode straight to Overton’s, and just before sunrise, a carriage and two riders pulled into the estate.  I hid next to the side of the house where I could hear all four men talking and laughing.  Something was said about the first time they’d ever strung up a white man.”

I remembered hearing those same words.

“So, I pulled my gun and, because they were drunk and acting like fools, I was able to get the jump on them and line all four men up against the side of the house.  I had one man tie up the other three and … well, long story short, I left three there and took one with me to show me the way.”

“Syc … more … tree.”  Adam looked away.  I didn’t mean to cause him pain, and I had just done that very thing.  “Tam … Lee, I whispered softly.

“The Chinaman?” Adam said.  “Boy, I’d nearly forgotten.  You were what—twelve or thirteen when that happened?”

“Yeah.”  For some reason, I’d overlooked the fact we were in San Francisco and would have to tell Pa and Hoss what happened when we returned home. I could almost hear it all now.  What were you thinking, Joseph?  Whatever possessed you to …   “Pa?”

“He’s on his way.”

Without warning, tears stung my eyes.  I never wanted Pa to see me like this and though I had more questions, did I really want to hear the answers?  What did it matter now?  I hadn’t listened to Adam.  I’d failed Mei, and everything hurt. God, how I hurt.

I knew the truth about the hanging.  I didn’t just fall asleep or fall unconscious. I may be here now, and this may all be real, but the fact is, I died that night.  I died, and angels came and saved me before Adam found me.  They kept me alive.  It sounds strange, and it makes no sense, but I know the truth.  I know what I saw and what I felt, and I know I’ll never tell a living soul—not ever.

My voice was coming back, but it was a strain to force the words.  I wanted to tell Adam that Overton didn’t win the final round, that the game wasn’t over, but I was too tired to continue the conversation.  As far as Overton knew, my brother found a corpse at the end of the rope, but the joke was on him.  I would beat him at his own game, and I would come out the winner.

~~~

The following morning, I returned to the cushioned chair for a longer period.  I was beginning to heal.  I felt better, and I was able to pronounce words much better than yesterday.  Mrs. Spencer brought me a soft-boiled egg for breakfast, but without Hop Sing’s bacon and biscuits, it seemed barely enough to keep a man alive.

“Doc says I can take you back to the hotel this afternoon.”

My initial reaction was panic.  I didn’t want people to stare and then realized I really didn’t care what people thought.  They weren’t my friends or even acquaintances.  Let them stare.  “Good.  I’d … like that.”

“Let’s get you up and walking some; get those muscles moving again.”

With Adam’s help, I stood from the chair.  My legs barely held my full weight, but Adam looped my arm through his, and the two of us made it across the room and down the short hallway where we met up with the doctor.

“My, you look like a new man, Joe.  Another few days and you’ll be ready to put this entire ordeal behind you.”

I wanted to share in the doctor’s good-natured enthusiasm, but I wasn’t doing fine, and I didn’t feel fine.  I felt like hell.  “Thanks … for all you’ve … done, Doc.”

“How are the eyes this morning?”

“Better.”

“Ribs still sore?”

“Yeah.”

“Keep up the good work, Adam.  Keep this young man’s spirits up, and he’ll heal days faster and be ready to return home to Nevada.”

“That’s not always an easy task, Doctor, but as Joe said, we appreciate everything you’ve done.”

Adam and I walked the hallway for a while longer before he allowed me to lie back down on the bed.  My ribs were still bound, and the doctor still smoothed salve on my back and my neck. Some of the bandages had come off this morning.

My fingers were useless.  Making a fist was still out of the question, but Doc said a few more days.  Like my eyes, I took his word.  I reached for my neck, and Adam gently lowered my hand. “It’s healing just fine, Joe.  Still some bruising, but those marks will fade over time.”

I wasn’t much for talking.  I nodded mostly and if I let my mind wander, I often had visions of Tam Lee and of the thirteen-year-old boy who was man enough to challenge the Chinaman’s captors face-on.  I didn’t feel much like a man right now, even though I knew exactly what the next challenge would be.

Overton would pay; I would finish the game he started.  How and when I hadn’t determined.  Adam had said nothing, and I wasn’t up to talking, but in a few days’ time, I would set the record straight. No matter how much power and wealth the man had, I would bring him down.  One way or another, Stanley Overton would fall from grace, and Mei would be set free.

Tam Lee died and, for some unknown reason, I lived through my own hanging.  I should be happy, and I should feel proud of the determination that kept me alive.  Why did one man live and one die?  I was haunted by memories of death.  Awake, asleep, awake, death … My body jerked; my breathing froze.  Mama?

Adam reached for my arm.  “You okay?”

There was a sympathetic edge to my brother’s voice, and I fought back tears I couldn’t explain.  I couldn’t tell Adam what really happened; he’d think me a fool, a crazy man who’d lost his mind at the end of a rope.  “I’m fine.  Just—“

The door burst open, and we both turned our heads to the loud intrusion. Adam pulled his gun, but it was Pa and Hoss who filled the empty space.  I didn’t turn away; I didn’t try to hide my face. Tears sprang from my eyes as emotions got the best of me and, like that thirteen-year-old boy who’d witnessed a living nightmare, I let Pa hold me, cradle me to his chest, and assure me he would be there to protect me until I could hold my own once more.

““`

The suite was large enough for the four of us to sleep if we shared rooms. With a shipbuilder’s convention in town and hotels filled, we were forced to share beds for the rest of our stay in San Francisco.  Naturally, Pa wouldn’t leave my side, so he was my bedmate, which kept me away from Hoss and his natural tendency to snore all night long.  Pa insisted I needed another week to recover before any plans were made to return home.  I didn’t argue the point; I silently agreed with my father.

Instead of joining the family in the sitting area, I was taken straight to my room and put to bed soon after we arrived.  I had leaned against my father in the back of a cab while he whispered nonsense words and held me tight through the dips and bumps in the road.  My body was safe and warm, but my mind was run ragged by images I couldn’t put to rest.

Although I was tired from the trip to the hotel, I didn’t fall right asleep, and I was able to listen in on the conversation Adam had with Pa and Hoss. Certain things my brother hadn’t said to me, things he’d kept to himself, he explained in full detail to my father.

“It was awful, Pa, I don’t know how the kid survived the night,” Adam said.  “I swear, it’s some kind of miracle he’s with us now.”

Adam relayed the same story he’d told me about the four henchmen and then added the fact that they were all in jail, including Overton, awaiting my written statement.  And, according to Adam, Stanley Overton would be prosecuted for inciting murder.  When my father asked how and why this all came about, Adam told him why I’d gone back to Overton’s estate in the middle of the night.  I waited for the outburst I knew would come.

“Overton, it seems, employs a houseful of young Chinese women he uses as more than servant girls.  The city police have been waiting for something like this to happen so they could prosecute the man for the purchase of these young women, including Joe’s friend Mei, as sex slaves.”

“Sex slaves!”

I didn’t miss Pa’s sudden outburst.  I could only picture the look on Hoss’s face.  Pa would be fuming, and poor Hoss would still be trying to figure out the whole situation.

“I trusted that man.  I trusted that man to be honest and forthright, and look what he’s done to my boy.  If I ever get my hands on—“

“Pa—Pa, sit down before you wake Joe.”

Don’t worry, Adam, I heard it all.

A few more details were added, more about when Adam had to cut the rope and lower me to the ground.  How he felt for a pulse and how he had to have help getting me into the carriage while holding a gun on one of the men who’d done this to me.  How he prayed he wasn’t too late.  But I have to give Adam credit.  He never gave Pa and Hoss specifics about my initial appearance, and for that I was grateful.

Pa slept with me that night; his hand rested on my chest until morning.

““`

I was still on a diet of soft foods, and Hoss had to go and make a big deal of shoving crispy, fried bacon down his throat until Pa got after him, saying this was no laughing matter, and he should be ashamed for carrying on in such a manner.  Hoss was only trying to lighten the mood, I’m sure.  I nodded and smiled, letting him know it was no big deal, but after those words were spoken, my brother set his fork down on his plate and stood to leave the table.

“I’m sorry, little brother.  I didn’t mean nothin’—“

After seeing the look on my brother’s face, I wanted to say something, something reassuring to let him know it didn’t matter, that I understood what he was trying to do, but there was a knock at the door, and we all turned our heads and stared.  Hoss crossed the room and opened the door.  A uniformed officer with a sheriff’s badge asked for me.  “I’m looking for Joe Cartwright,” he said.

“He’s right here, Officer.”

Hoss stepped back from the door, and Pa stood to shake the man’s hand. “I’m Ben Cartwright, and this is my son, Joseph.”.

“Name’s McDonald, Kale McDonald.”  I started to stand, but the officer shook his head.  “Stay where you are, son.  No need for formalities.”

It was obvious to Officer McDonald who in this room had taken the beating and nearly died at the end of a noose.  He seemed like a nice enough man, and I assumed he wanted my signature on the paperwork he carried with him.

“Coffee?”  Pa offered.

“No, but thank you.  You all know why I’m here,” he said before glancing my way.  “We met at Doc Spencer’s, Mr. Cartwright, but I doubt you remember much about that first day.  I’ve spoken to your brother at length, but I’ll need you to write out your version of the incident before we can proceed any further.”

“Can someone else write it out?”  I held up my bandaged hands and was glad my voice cooperated.  “Then I’ll try to sign.”

“I see no problem.”

I looked at Adam, still not wanting Pa to know everything about that night.  My brother nodded and the three of us walked into the bedroom for privacy’s sake.

“Where should we start?”

“Start when you left the suite and why,” Adam said.

I spoke freely, and Adam wrote down everything I said as I pictured all that took place that night.  But in my mind’s eye, I saw images that would later confuse not only me but also Adam and Officer McDonald.  Tam Lee, a man I never knew, but the striking vision of his night of terror still took refuge in my mind.  That thirteen-year-old boy, who stood in the shadows, became nonexistent, and when my own torture began, my fate intertwined with Tam Lee’s.

“Okay.  Well, my friend Mei was being held against her will by a man named Stanley Overton.”  I waited for Adam to write it all down before I continued.  But when I got as far as the whipping, my mind betrayed me.

My ankles burn; the rope sears my skin, and the flame grows hot against my back.  Spinning, I may be sick, and I run and hide my face against the brick wall at the edge of town.  I don’t want to die. Nineteen candles light the cake, and I take a deep breath.  Tam Lee’s or mine?  I don’t know whose birthday it is.  I spin; my arms dangle toward the ground, and I grab tight to the rope, choking, gasping, but I remain alive.

Angels are near, and voices sing out.  Awake, dead, awake, dead … Flies circle and buzz in my ears, and my skin crawls with trickles of salty sweat.  Mama?  I kick, but my legs tangle and I sway.  “Pa?”  I pull at the rope; I can’t see the sycamore tree; I see only red as my mind fades in and out to the tree at the edge of town.  Blood covers the ground, and my hands are stained with the blood of Tam Lee’s ear.

I pressed my palms to the side of my head.  My head pounds relentlessly when I try to force recent memories and discard those from the past.  Adam leaned toward me.  “Joe?  You okay, boy?”

The pounding gained strength, and I was lost. I couldn’t open my eyes, but I didn’t see red anymore.  My fingers burned; the torch seared my back.  I screamed.  “Pa!”

“Joe?”

My father burst into the room, and Adam’s papers fell off his lap. “What’s going on?”  Pa’s voice scared me back to the present. The red haze was gone, daylight returned, and the morning sun showed through the curtained window.  Tam Lee was gone too, and I glanced up at my father whose forehead was creased with worry. He knelt beside Adam; he rested his hand on my knee.  I wiped tears from my eyes.  I was no longer alone; no longer afraid I would die without my family nearby.

Adam picked up the scattered papers, and I remembered why we’d gathered in the bedroom.  The statement wasn’t finished; it was barely even started.  “I’m sorry.  I can finish now,” I said.  Confusion slipped away; I was ready to continue.

“You’ve said enough, Joe.”  Adam handed me a paper to sign.  “Here, at the bottom of this page.

He dipped the pen and held it out to my shaking hand.  I signed and handed it back.  “Thanks,” was all I said to whoever was listening.

Pa nodded to my brother, Adam, and the officer quietly left the room.  I was so tired that my father nearly carried me to the bed where he straightened the blanket over me, and his hand remained resting on my shoulder.  I shut my eyes to block the light.  The memories were still fresh, and when my eyes flew back open, I raked my fingers along the linen sheet, trying to grasp hold of something solid, something to remind me I was very much alive, and the nightmare was over.  Pa reached for my hand and covered it with his, stopping my illogical behavior.  He pulled me to his chest and cocooned me in his arms, protecting me from my own thoughts.  I felt soft, worn leather against my cheek, smelled a hint of tobacco, and knew I was safe.

““`

Pa woke me for dinner; said we should go down to the restaurant and get out of the room for a while.  “Think you can manage that, son?”

Dim light flooded the room in lengthy shadows.  It was evening, and my first day out of the clinic.  And just like before, I’d slept the day away and would lie awake most of the night.  “Yeah.  I guess I can eat,” I said, remembering Adam and me devouring the entire cherry pie the night we arrived. That would not be the case this night.  I’d slept fully dressed although someone had removed my boots.  With the bandages on my hands lessened to just a few strips of cloth, I was able to do simple things.  I pulled on my boots.

“Officer McDonald offered an apology for upsetting you, Joseph. He also wanted to thank you for your statement and said they’ll need you to testify at the trial if you’re up to retelling the night’s events once more in front of the judge and jury.”

“I’ll be ready.  I’m the star witness, Pa.  I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I’m proud of you, Joe.  You up for some good news?”

“Sure.”  I stood up to face Pa.  My pant legs slid down over my boots.  I couldn’t foresee Pa having anything good to say given the situation, but Pa was always one to look on the bright side.

“The young women living at Overton’s have all been released.”

“Mei?”

“Yes, Mei.  She and the other girl in the room you broke into are being held over for questioning.”

“Can I see her?”

“Not before the trial, son.  I’m sorry.”

I glanced around the room.  “My jacket?”

“I haven’t seen it.”

An explosion was generated in my head.  My teeth clenched when memories of my jacket being stripped from my back before the jokester hauled me to the rope hit me like an ax, driving spikes through my brain.  A low moan escaped my lips when I thought of the lashes, striking over and over.  Pa held my arm.  “You okay, Joe?”

“I’m fine.  Let’s go.”

“We’ll buy you some new clothes this week.  We have plenty of time before the trial date is set.”

““`

We stepped inside the restaurant.  I was still concerned about my appearance and kept my hat low on my forehead until Pa cleared his throat, producing the results he wanted.  I removed my hat and felt for the red bandana I’d tied around my neck.  It was in place, but I still pulled at my collar, adjusting its height for more coverage.

Our “cherry pie” waitress led us to a table for four.  Again, I straightened my collar, pulling the tabs closer around my throat.  It appeared everyone was staring.  It may not have been the case, but I was self-conscious of the fact that my face and neck still sported fading cuts and bruises.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to stare,” said our waitress.  “I heard someone in the hotel had … I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was you.”

She was a pretty girl, probably about my age or a bit younger, and I suppose it’s not every day you meet a man who’s been hanged and lives to tell the story.  “No apology needed,” I said matter-of-factly.  “I think we’re ready to order.”

She wasn’t alone.  Everyone sitting inside the restaurant stared at our table.  News traveled fast, and I’d quickly become the main topic of each patron’s conversation.  I’d become front-page news, and all I wanted to do was hide and forget.  Pa sensed my embarrassment.  Adam and Hoss as well, sat taller in their chairs as if they could provide protection from the world around me.

““`

The trial was scheduled for a week from today.  With regret, Pa had to send Adam and Hoss home to keep things running smoothly while he and I stayed over in San Francisco.  I wasn’t allowed to see Mei or her roommate, the girl I’d scared half to death after climbing through the window.  I hoped she didn’t carry a grudge.  I hoped she understood my intentions were only to save Mei from her formidable fate.

We’d kept the suite and reluctantly, my father moved into Adam’s room.  There were times Pa wanted to talk, but I wasn’t ready.  I didn’t want to relive the night I died, maybe more than once.  I was still unclear as to what happened.  As I thought back on Tam Lee and the visions that still haunted my mind after six long years, I never wanted Pa to picture the image of his youngest son’s body distorted and grotesque because of a lynching.

“Ain’t never strung up a white man before.”  Those words were as clear as polished glass.  How many Chinese had gone before me? How many colored men had died the same way in a place that my mother called home?  I was a white man, and that alone should have prevented my hanging without a trial.  But as Pa had once said—this wasn’t typical behavior and should be avoided at all costs.

Overton was pure evil.  He’d led Pa to believe they were still good friends, that they could do business together and both benefit from the profits of such a venture.  Pa had already met with Overton’s attorney and withdrawn the timber contract.  I was proud of my father, and I told him so.  He seemed surprised by my statement.

With a week to go before the trial, Pa and I had time to see some of San Francisco.  I felt more like myself, so Pa ordered a carriage and we drove down to the pier for a day away from the hotel and the constant noise of the city.  Salt air filled my lungs, and lapping waves hit the docks with a rhythm only the sea could provide. Gulls flew overhead only to dive down and peck at crumbs left by passersby in the sand.

I leaned my arms over the wooden railing and gazed out across the bay, enjoying a completely different world from the one I’d been born to.  Pa, the old sailor, took it all in stride while I was in awe of the magnificence and the expanse of open water, and, if not for the Ponderosa, I could easily make the coast my home.  I breathed in the salt air and let its fragrance swirl inside my head.  I felt refreshed after so many days of feeling anguish and hurt, feeling sorry for myself, and asking why.  Pa wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close.  I smiled, knowing exactly where my home was and that I would never build a home by the sea.

““`

Our second buggy ride that week was to the courthouse.  I’d spoken with the prosecuting attorney, Jeremy Banks, beforehand and had given him an exact account of that night.  He said we had a good case.  I hoped he was right.

Everyone in San Francisco who knew or had heard of Stanley Overton had come to witness the trial.  Men and women alike lined the streets and crowded the front door as we made our way through the curiosity seekers and up the steps to the proceedings. I looked for Mei; I’d forgotten to ask when she’d be brought in to testify.

The courtroom was packed; standing room only when Pa and I walked in with the prosecutor and took our seats in front of the judge’s bench, dead center, and a jury box, sitting to my right. Virginia City didn’t even have a courthouse, the local saloon served just fine.  The room was grand, paneled in dark wood with extremely high ceilings.  I couldn’t let my nerves get the best of me.  I swallowed hard as I took my seat next to Mr. Banks.

We all rose when the judge entered the room.  Both parties offered up their opening statements.  I had been instructed on how to sit, where to look, and how to keep my facial expressions under wraps. Pa wasn’t allowed to sit next to me so he took a seat directly behind the polished, wooden railing that enclosed the gallery.  I could almost hear him breathe.

My mind drifted in and out through the initial proceedings, character witnesses, and associates of Overton’s, who would testify and lie if they cared to remain in their employer’s good graces. These men had much to lose if they crossed the man who offered a steady paycheck, and Overton had many such men on his payroll.

Next up was Mei.  When she passed my table, as Mr. Banks escorted her to the witness box, I wanted to reach out and touch her, give her confidence, and tell her everything would be okay. Her dark hair had been cut close to her chin.  I knew it was none of her doing, and I knew how important hair length was to someone of Chinese descent.  She looked frightened, and when Overton caught her eye, she quickly turned her head and scanned the crowd of anxious onlookers until her eyes finally met mine.  I smiled, but nothing showed on her face; Mr. Banks had instructed her also.

Questions were asked, and Mei was so soft-spoken that the judge asked her to speak up so the court reporter could take down her testimony.  I wondered if the all-male jury would even listen since she was Chinese and female—two strikes against her before she ever said a word although Mei held her own.  She told me exactly what happened that night before I was dragged from the room.  But Mr. Banks had Mei continue.  It had nothing to do with me, but I’d mentioned what Overton said he would do to her while I met my maker; oblivion, I believe he called it.

“Will you continue, Miss Wong?  Tell the jury what transpired after Mr. Cartwright was taken away to be killed.”

An objection was called and overruled.  Mei looked straight at me, and I knew she was frightened to tell her story.  Very subtly, I nodded my head.

“The Captain, Mr. Overton … he—” Mei glanced down toward her lap and didn’t look back up until Mr. Banks kindly encouraged her to finish.  “He say I must pay for Mr. Cartwright mistake.”

“And will you explain to the jury how he made you pay for this so-called mistake?”

The courtroom was silent.

“Captain tear Mei gown.  He climb on top.  He already unclothed when come to room.  He put hand tight to my neck and use other to push inside.  I choke.  I cannot breathe till he finish his business.”

Women in the courtroom gasped and covered their mouths with gloved hands until the judge banged his gavel several times. “Order in this court,” he said, still banging away.  “Continue please Mr. Banks.”

Mr. Banks took a much-needed pause before he spoke to Mei. “Will you tell us what happened next?”

Another glance at me, and Mei continued.  “He grab arm and roll me over on belly.  He hold face to bed so I not move.  He come inside from behind.  I scream, but he not care.  Captain very powerful man.”

“I’m sorry to put you through this, Miss Wong.  Is there anything else you would like to tell the court?”

“Yes.  Captain leave and come back with sheers.  I sink under blanket; I frighten he want to kill.  He hold Mei hair in hand.  I beg not take but he cut anyway.  He bring much disgrace; lose honor, no can face ancestor.  Captain laugh when Mei cry.  He throw hair out open window.”

“Thank you, Miss Wong.  You did a fine job.  Again, I’m sorry.”  Mr. Banks handed Mei his handkerchief and whispered something none of us could hear.  “You may step down now.”

Tears streaked Mei’s cheeks.  Tears streaked my own, knowing what she’d been put through on account of me.  The second girl was called to the stand.  She repeated Mei’s testimony nearly word for word.

Pa mentioned later that he thought it was a miracle the judge let the two women testify.  It wasn’t standard practice to let Chinese men or women take the stand or even enter a courtroom.

When my name was called, I sat up straighter and glanced first at the judge and then the jury before making my way to the stand. My palms were damp, and a light trickle found its way down the small of my back, but if Mei managed a room full of strangers, so could I.

Overton’s attorney was a smart man.  He saw where my eyes were pointed, and he quickly blocked any view of my father.  In his opening statement, he’d called me a thief in the night.  Breaking and entering with no just cause and attempted kidnapping.  His statement was completely true except for the no just-cause.  But it wasn’t my turn to speak.  He stood with his back to me, facing the jury box, and began his questions.  “Do you admit to breaking and entering?”

“Yessir.”

“Do you admit to attempted kidnapping?”

“Yessir.”

“There you have it, Judge.”

I tried to get a glimpse of Pa, but the attorney stood his ground.

“A man forces his way into another man’s house in the dead of night and is caught red-handed.  Mr. Cartwright is lucky he wasn’t shot dead right on the spot.  My client did what was necessary and had the intruder removed from the premises.  End of story, your honor.”

The spectators knew better, and whispers and groans erupted until the judge again called the court to order.  I remained seated and silent.  My time would come, but when I looked toward Overton, sitting next to his attorney and smiling like he’d already won the case, I began to lose confidence in the judicial system.  Would my story hold water?  Would the jury believe me or would my words sound like fantasy, something only a fool might conjure up to save his own skin?

The judge called a lunch recess and stated that court would resume at two p.m.  I was excused and took my seat next to Mr. Banks. “Why now?”  I asked.

“Don’t worry, Joe.  You’ve been sworn in, and the judge will pick up right where he left off after lunch.”

I turned and looked over my shoulder.  Pa nodded and gave a reassuring smile.  “Everything will be fine, son.”  I wasn’t so sure. The jury had nearly two hours to dwell on the attorney’s last statement.

When the room cleared, Mr. Banks led us out a side door and to a waiting buggy, which carried us back to the hotel where we opted for room service rather than deal with the crowd of spectators during lunch.  Mr. Banks praised me for keeping calm when Mei’s testimony was given.  He also said this afternoon would be the real test, whether I was convincing enough to sway the jury with the truth.

“I’ll do my best,” I said.  Although my stomach was in turmoil, I managed to force down half a sandwich for Pa’s sake.  I didn’t want to be reprimanded in front of the prosecuting attorney.

The gavel struck at precisely two p.m.  We were all seated and ready to proceed.  I was called back to the witness stand.  The attorney had a few more questions but in the end, he called me a liar.  He talked more than I did and said his client was a man of honor and would never incite murder.  He asked how I ever came up with such a frivolous story and that no jury in the country would believe such an outrageous fabrication of the truth.

I behaved myself as Mr. Banks had instructed.  I’m not saying it was easy.  Many times, I wanted to jump out of my seat and choke Overton’s attorney, but I had confidence in the prosecutor, and I remained calm.  Even though this wasn’t my nature, I knew Pa would be proud I’d handled myself accordingly.

“I want you to start from the beginning,” said Mr. Banks.  “Start around midnight and tell us everything you remember.”

“Yessir.”

I sat up straight in the chair and took a deep breath before taking the judge and jury on a fast-paced account of what happened inside Overton’s house and how he’d instructed the men to dispose of me.  “According to their conversation, I was not the first man Overton had ordered them to kill, just the first white man. That’s when I knew my fate,” I said, glancing at Pa.  “I was to be hanged.”

My story slowed after that, and I was able to put Tam Lee out of my mind and concentrate on my night of hell.  I told of the beating that took place before the hanging; how my eyes showed red and how I thought I might die before I ever made it to the noose.  I told how my fingers swelled to twice their size, how I kept the rope from biting through the skin under my chin, and how I only wanted to see my family one more time.

But I didn’t tell them everything.  I didn’t tell them I died.  I didn’t tell them of angels or of cries to my dead mother.  I told of pain, tears, and never-ending fear, but my father was listening to every word, and I would spare him the more precise details.

Overton’s lawyer stood to cross-examine.  He moved slowly across the room and pressed his hands firmly on the railing surrounding my chair.  His face turned a brilliant red as he tried to break my testimony, but it was no use.  I held firm and answered his questions, repeating parts of my story to the jury as Mr. Banks had instructed me to do.

And the monster who felt superior to all, the man with wealth and power, who believed he would easily win the case, was no longer smiling.  Overton slumped in his chair, taking the form of a beaten man.

The day ended with closing arguments.  The courtroom attendees, who had been silent all afternoon, hummed as citizens of San Francisco drew their own conclusions about Stanley Overton and how this man conducted himself behind closed doors but most important of all, how easily he’d orchestrated murders, maybe one too many.  The gallery had been deeply disturbed by today’s testimonies.  I prayed the judge and jury were too.

Pa and I returned to the hotel where I begged off supper and fell straight into bed.  Pa said he was stepping out for a while. Unlike me, he still had an appetite, and he wanted to send Adam and Hoss a wire.  “It will be over soon,” he said.  “Can I bring you anything?”

“I’m fine, Pa.  I’ll be okay.”

Pa forced a smile.  There were times I swear he could read my mind.  Yes, I was fine, but the trial was far from over.  And was there something Pa had read in today’s events that caught me unaware?  What was I missing that he took for granted?

““`

A messenger, sent by Mr. Banks, called on us at 10:00 the following morning; we were to appear in court at 2:00 p.m.  The jury had decided Overton’s fate on the charge of attempted murder.  If he were set free, what would become of the young women he’d held captive inside his estate?  I tried not to think.

As before, at two, the gavel banged loudly.  I was seated next to Mr. Banks, and to my left sat Overton, worrying his hands as he stretched his massive arms across the polished table.  I hadn’t been allowed to see Mei.  She and her roommate had returned to the house after their testimonies were given.  Where else would they go?  The people they trusted had sold them into slavery.

The jury filed in, and Overton was asked to stand.  The judge was handed a small piece of paper.  He glanced quickly at the verdict and handed it back to a man in the jury.  “Was the decision unanimous?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What say you?”

“We find Mr. Stanley Arthur Overton guilty of attempted murder.”

The gallery exploded with shouts and whistles and a standing ovation.  Eventually, the gavel silenced the room, but not until the spectators had their say.  The man had been brought to his knees, and with tears in my eyes, I looked to the heavens and gave thanks.  I glanced back at Pa.  His smile wasn’t forced this time,t and neither was mine.

Stanley Overton was sentenced to five years in the California State Prison: San Quentin.  His businesses would fail, and the estate would be boarded up until the time of his release.  Anyone in his employ was encouraged to find work elsewhere, which included Mei and the rest of his female servants.  Mei was finally free to go.

The men who carried through with Overton’s dirty work would be tried, all four together next week, but I was also free to go.  Mr. Banks assured Pa and me that, with my previous testimony, voiced and written, it was an open and shut case, and he guaranteed they would deal with the same fate, or worse than their boss.

““`

Pa asked Mr. Banks to join us for dinner at the Golden Ox, a fancy steak house where Ponderosa beef had been supplied since the day the restaurant opened its doors to the public.  I had other plans.  “I’ll meet you there at six, Pa, and make that a table for four.”

I hailed a cab and left my father and Mr. Banks behind and bewildered.  When I arrived under the portico, I asked the driver to wait.  Mei answered the door.  Somehow, I knew she would.  She threw her arms around me, and I held her tight to my chest.  There was laughter and tears, and I kicked the door closed behind us. And when I looked into her eyes, I saw only tears of joy.  I leaned in and kissed her on the lips, breaking the bond of friendship and pledging my love.  I’ve loved her since the day we met; I will always love this little girl named Mei.

“Change into your fanciest dress,” I said, holding her hands.  “We’re going out to celebrate.”

Mei let go and turned her back to me.  She covered her face with her palms and wouldn’t turn back around.  “No,” she said softly. “No want embarrass Mr. Joe.”

I reached for Mei’s shoulders and made her face me.  “What do you mean embarrass?”

She stroked her short, choppy hair.

“Is that what worries you?  Your hair?”

“Mei not worthy of Joe Cartwright celebration.”

“You crazy girl.  You mean more to me than anyone else in this world.  It’s only hair.  It will grow back, you’ll see.  You could never embarrass me, Mei.  Not ever.”

News of the judge’s decision had already reached the estate, and every young lady who’d been hired as a servant girl had packed her bag and was pushing through the front door, leaving the house forever.  I didn’t know where they’d all end up.  Right now, my only concern was Mei.

“I no wear white woman clothes,” Mei said, smiling.

“And I hope you never will.”

“I ready to go.  Bag already packed.”

“Good.  Our carriage awaits.”

““`

The four of us stood waiting for our table when the owner came out and asked to speak with Pa privately.  They’d met before since only Ponderosa beef was offered at this posh San Francisco restaurant.

My father’s voice rose in volume and tempo.  He didn’t care who heard him or whether he embarrassed anyone in the process. Although both parties’ voices were unclear, blocked by a closed door, I had a strong suspicion we all knew what the discussion was about.  And, when Pa came to stand beside us, he straightened his tie and cleared his throat.  “No more problems.”

We were seated in a far corner, but at least we’d been seated.  I gathered Mei was the first person of Chinese descent allowed to eat in this restaurant or any white man’s restaurant for that matter. I wouldn’t make a fuss now; Pa and I would talk things over later.

Tonight was all about celebrating, and that’s exactly what we intended to do.  Steaks all around with all the fixin’s.  Hoss would be envious when we returned home, and I told of our celebratory feast.  Adam would nod his head and be relieved that the trial turned out as well as it had.

As for Mei, she was coming home with me.  What happened next week or next month was yet to be seen.  And, as far as Pa was concerned, maybe someday I would tell him more about the night I saved my own life and claimed victory in the game Overton sought to play.

I held my glass of champagne up to Mei.  She held hers up to mine.  I looked to my father and Mr. Banks, and in unison, we toasted to a future complete with uncertainties.

May the saddest day of your future be no worse than the happiest day of your past.

Adam’s birthday toast filled my mind.  I’d forgotten what happiness was, but today my future began.  I was a very happy man.

“Cheers.”

The End