Fortune excerpt ch 3
That night at fifteen minutes past nine, Eden stood at the entrance to the deserted park, justifying her participation in this foolish venture. Angel’s dare, of course. Eden had never resisted a challenge. Besides, wasn’t watching Angel her duty now?
The street was empty and hushed but for leaves rustling to the ground. Despite the October chill, Angel unfastened the top four buttons of her shirt and folded the edges inside. She released her dark hair from its plait and pulled a pot of rouge from her pocket.
Eden’s consternation grew. "Why must you look like a tart?"
"I'd rather not have them know I'm sixteen. I told Bobby I was older. He—" She squealed when Eden pinched her arm.
"Who is them?"
“Bobby said he’d bring a friend." Angel tugged free. "We’re going to have a little fun. Now, will you unbraid your hair or do you intend to look like a child?"
Eden swallowed her retort when two figures approached. Angel, suffused with breathless giggles, greeted Bobby and took possession of his arm. Eden summoned an aloof smile.
They strolled in silence for a time, Angel and Bobby McAnders in the lead, Eden and Donald Stoddart behind. She refused to look his way and ignored the arm he held out. Bobby strode with chest out, shoulders rolling. He leaned to Angel, whispered in her ear. Gales of giddy laughter followed.
The clock in the tower on Citadel Hill chimed the hour of ten. Eden said, "Angel, ‘tis time to leave.”
“Not yet, Eden. Bobby wants to go to a tavern. Isn’t that a splendid idea?"
Eden lost her breath and, for a moment, the power of speech. This game had gone too far!
Bobby turned, his smile as slick as his hair. "I'm sure you never seen a Water Street tavern. You ain't scared, are you?"
She bristled. "Scared? No, indeed. ‘Tis something I wanted to see for a long time." Donald chuckled and she glanced at him. A nearby streetlight revealed a pleasant-looking man with sturdy shoulders and ruddy cheeks. Though his manner was polite and he seemed not of the same ilk as his shipmate, she did not trust him.
Boisterous laughter and the energetic tinkle of piano music flowed from the doors of The Downy Duck. Eden followed the others in, filled with avid curiosity despite her misgivings. Long tables at which patrons sat on benches and stools crowded the scarred floor. Tobacco smoke formed a thick brown haze, rendering people across the room into shapeless phantoms. Her eyes burned and she had a powerful urge to sneeze. The acrid fumes mingled with the more pungent smells of sour ale and unwashed bodies. The sneeze she fought to contain exploded. Angel frowned and clucked her tongue.
Silence fell as they advanced. The piano player turned and stared, as did a sea of indistinguishable faces. Heat crept into Eden’s cheeks. With their blue serge skirts and white shirts, she and Angel stood out as schoolgirls. She tightened her shawl.
Bobby led the way to a table and people moved so they could sit on the bench. Piano music and rowdy voices resumed; a buxom barmaid placed four tin mugs of ale before them. Donald handed one to Eden. She sniffed it. Cat piss. " 'Tis vile. I can't drink this."
He nodded. "Just pretend."
She took his advice and lifted the foul-smelling mug. Angel quaffed ale with the gusto of a seasoned sailor, her giddy laughter increasing in both tempo and volume with each swallow. Four more mugs appeared. Angel caressed Bobby's cheek and he asked her to dance. They stepped to the opposite end of the room, vanishing in clouds of smoke.
Eden drummed her fingers on the table. A brawny man with stringy hair and a patch on one eye leered at her. She averted her head. Laughter grew coarser, songs bawdier. The language these men used! The lurid tales!
The tune ended, the dance floor appeared empty. Eden stood. Behind the dance area a rickety staircase rose. At the top, Angel and Bobby turned and disappeared.
Eden marched across the room, up the stairs, and entered a dim hallway with six curtained doorways, three on each side. She paused at one and listened. Heavy breathing. At the second doorway she gave a start when the frayed curtains parted and a couple emerged. She walked on.
“Oh, Bobby…" Angel's husky moan came from behind the third curtain. He grunted and snorted, the sounds of a hog. Eden opened the curtain a crack and muffled a gasp.
--Cat