The next speaker began with a more sinister tone, “We should not allow such filth to inhabit our city. We should do like a doctor and cut out the cancer that is the Barbary coast! Like Sodom and Gomorrah, we need to cleanse the area with fire! Only fire can rid us of the Sodomites and witches located in the city! Like olden times we need to purge the city with fire, then we can begin on the state!”
“He can’t be serious, they could burn down the whole town!” Helena watched Sigmund for reassurance.
“I am afraid they are deadly serious they tried it before,” Sigmund answered.
Shocked, she eavesdropped as a group of men nearby discussed lighting Chinatown on fire when the wind came out of the South, and it would burn the Chinese out. She could tell their animosity wasn’t only directed at Chinatown. Anyone they considered being different found their names on their list. Black, Mexican, Chinese, cross-dressers, and witches were only some of the people being singled out as being impure for their city.
“How can people claim to be Christians and hate so much?” Helena looked at Sigmund with pleading eyes.
Solemnly he answered, “The devil can cite scripture for his purpose. Evil men will warp any belief system they feel that can to gain power.”
Many of the people cried out for good morals and discipline for their cities streets, it sounded to Helena that they were merely afraid and lashing out at whoever they could. Someone was using the city’s fear to push their own agenda.
Before she could suggest to Sigmund about leaving; screams of fear began rolling over the crowd like the surf on Seal Rock. She wanted to escape but the throng on the far side of the courtyard surged towards their position pushing her and her compatriots off the City Hall steps in a wave a flesh.
She wasn’t sure what happened on the far side of the intersection, but it couldn’t be good to be causing such a panic. Instantaneously separated from the others in the push, she tried to swim through the sea of people towards Bessie, hoping that Lane and Sigmund would meet her there. Before she traveled twenty feet, some new horror began at her front.
This time she was close enough to see a wall of black hoods walking towards the group each carrying an ax handle or some other blunt instrument. The new attackers were swinging them indiscriminately at people as they tried to escape. Looking for any target, man or woman, head, torso, or extremity. They remained silent as they swung their cudgels more to inflict pain than to murder.
When the lead people saw the noiseless armed horde heading towards them, they began backing up which led to a crush of people all trying to escape while being attacked on front and back. Arms pinned to her sides in the crush of humanity she backpedaled with the group, only to step on something soft underfoot.
She found a woman who’d fallen to the gutter and was going to be trampled alive if someone didn’t help her soon. Helena bent down to help the unconscious woman to safety when she caught a knee in the side of her head by someone attempting to escape the mayhem.
As she lay on the street slipping in and out of consciousness, she kept thinking I’m going to die trampled to death in this stinking gutter, and then she blacked out.
Helena glided in and out, as she felt her body floating in a dark, moist tunnel. Held aloft by uncountable hands she felt dripping water and thought of Madame Griselda’s reading. She perceived her journey down the river Styx beginning.
Ship of Lost Children:
Helena woke, and the sun shone bright, she had no idea of the time, the day, or where she’d slept. While on her side she could see the sunlight pouring through large windows beyond, the bay plainly visible with ships plowing through the water, their white sails billowing. Water lapped against the structure she rested in, she recalled being in the streets by the town hall, then the enormous riot, that was all she remembered.
Helena rolled over on her other side, and there sat a little girl watching her. The girl that lifted the locket from her during the search of Chinatown.
“Hello sweetie. Where am I?” Helena asked.
The girl didn’t say a word but ran out the door.
“Well, you could’ve said good morning,” Helena did a quick account, looking around the room, she considered it spacious if ancient. The wooden walls shaped in complex curves, like nothing she had ever seen before.
“Good morning, did you sleep well?” If Helena had to describe the person that walked through the door she would say call him a young boy not more than eleven or twelve with a pointed face like a ferret or mouse. She immediately saw he carried her walking stick, twisting the blade’s locking mechanism clicking it opened and closed.
“As well as can be expected after being knocked unconscious by a mob.”
“I’m sure that wasn’t their intention. They just wanted to show those racist bastards they wouldn’t go down without a fight,” he sat down in a chair across from her before continuing, “My name’s Angus, but most people call me Gus.”
“Thank you, Gus, I assume you’re the one that rescued me off the streets.”
“No, it was little Annie and her gang. I was nowhere near the riot, they brought you in unconscious last night, so I gave you my room.”
“This is your room? Where am I?”
“This my lady is one of the few remaining abandoned ships from the gold rush years, the Captain’s quarters, my quarters. I bought it a few decades ago and turned it into our home.”
“A few decades ago? Surely you’re not much more than fifteen years old yourself.”
“For some reason, Annie thinks we should trust you, I’m not sure we should. The way I see it we have one of two choices. We trust you,
