Vera by Carol Edgarian (year 7 reading list TXT) 📕

came on her. “You don’t want to,” she crowed. “I know you, V. I know that look. You don’t like the idea of a brothel any more than I do. You just don’t want to admit it.”

“That’s not true.”

“You’re daring yourself not to be bothered, but you think prostitution is a sordid affair, same as me.”

I crossed my arms. “I’d rather be a hooker than a nun—though both strike me as a lousy deal, whether you’re the hooker or the nun.”

“That’s ’cause you have no relationship to God,” Pie replied.

“Since when do you?”

Pie shrugged. She couldn’t explain that since the quake—since losing Morie and James in one awful go—the Church made sense to her, its rules and expectations. Its clarity. In a fallen world, the Church stood. That, and she was spending too much time with Eugenie.

“You wouldn’t understand,” she said, talking in a calm, cold voice; it was the voice of a stranger. “How could you?” she went on. “You’ve never believed in anyone but yourself. In that, you’re lucky.”

“Lucky!”

“Yah, yah,” she assured me. “I want to be lucky too. Is that so terrible? I’ve tried everything I can think of. I asked Eugenie if I could live with them. She wanted to say yes, but with the mayor’s troubles—”

“So, you’re forced to live here,” I said. “Miserably.”

She shrugged. “Eugenie helps out at the refuge with the nuns from school. I suppose I could work there too. Do you think Bobby would take me in the buggy? Alamo Square is too far to walk.”

I thought: We sure could use help around here, and Bobby has plenty else to do. But I bit my tongue and said simply, “I’ll ask him.”

The next morning, I brought coffee and a plate of hash to Bobby. He was setting up Monster for the day, brushing him in the driveway. When he was finished, he’d walk Monster to Lafayette Square, where they’d hire out as a team, hauling for a day’s wages.

Bobby saw me and laughed. He licked his thumb and wiped a smudge from my cheek. “There,” he said. “And you don’t need to bribe me to ask a favor. What is it?”

“The favor,” I said. “It isn’t for me.”

“Oh no? That’s disappointing.” Bobby went on working the snarls in Monster’s long, shaggy forelock. He was using General’s old brushes. Since that one night, he’d visited me in the attic a couple more times. But he hadn’t visited in a while and I feared I’d done something wrong.

“Bobby.”

“Yeah?”

“Before you and Monster head out today, could you take Pie in the buggy to Alamo Square? There’s a convent they’ve turned into a refuge for the quake orphans.”

“Don’t call them that,” he said sharply. He was so gentle, Bobby, but he was also odd, like his horse. Any wrong noise, he jumped. “They’re children,” he insisted. “Call them children.”

“All right,” I agreed. “Would you take Pie to see the children? I think it would be good for her.”

“Let me ask you a question,” he said. “When was the last time you saw the ocean? I mean, we’re surrounded by water.”

I shrugged. “Before the quake, I guess.”

He nodded. “Tell you what. I’ll take Pie and you, if you say you’ll come with me one afternoon to Ocean Beach. It would be good for you.”

I nodded before I had time to think why I shouldn’t.

“Look at that, Monster.” He beamed. “She’s smiling. We done okay.”

I patted Monster to let Bobby know that it was more than okay. Bobby had his shirt tucked into his trousers, and his belt was an old brown strap he used to cinch his pants. He was too skinny by half and his ears turned pink when he was feeling good or angry, and he wasn’t angry right now. His cheeks were scruffy where he needed a shave and I wanted to kiss him.

Instead I said, “Bobby, when are you going to tell me how you got ol’ Monster?”

He paused. “I’ll tell you when you tell me what’s the story with that lady upstairs. Rose.”

“What do you know?”

He sighed. “Too much and nothin’.”

“I promise I’ll tell you, but can you ask something easier first?”

“Here.” He took my hand, rubbed it across the scruff on his cheek, then gave a quick kiss to my palm. He asked, “Is that easier?”

“No.” I laughed.

“Ah, guess we’ll have to keep hoping for a yes, eh, Monster?”

Bobby went on brushing the horse’s legs and flanks. “I found him on Howard Street, just after the quake hit,” he said. “Those blocks took it real bad. Monster was calling out, horse-wise—you know, panicky. I figured he was hurt. The house where he belonged had come down, I mean, it was nothin’ but a pile of boards. I suppose everyone in it, well, there was no one around. Monster was in the back, tied up. They must have used him hard, ’cause there was just a dirt patch and nothin’, I mean nothin’, for him to graze on. There was a wagon, crushed to nothing. You said I stole him—”

“I’m sorry I said that.”

“Well, I sort of did.”

“You saved him, is what.” My voice sounded all croaky.

Bobby read my face. “See that, Monster,” he said. “I think maybe she’s taking a shine to you.” And when he saw me blush, he laughed. “Good gawd. Go on, tell Pie she’s got a ride, and let’s get to it. Monster’s waiting.”

That’s what I did: I got to it. I hurried Pie with her dressing, and by the time we came out, Bobby had Monster hitched to Rose’s buggy.

Pie and I rode in the carriage, with her chatting the whole way. When we reached Alamo Square, Bobby jumped down, opened the door like a gentleman, and helped us out.

“Thank you.” Pie smiled sweetly. “Thank you very much, Bobby.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, and took his hand and didn’t let go till he agreed to come with us inside.

It was a madhouse, and I mean to use that word; the bottom floor of the