The Lighthouse Road

tending the coatroom, and Hosea stopped for his jacket and suitcase. She came from behind the half door and offered to assist with his jacket, but Hosea declined. He fished a bill from his wallet and put it neatly into her palm.

“You’re Ava?” he said.

She looked over Hosea’s shoulder at the barman, then looked at Hosea. She nodded.

“Well,” Hosea said, then thought better of it and said nothing more.

She returned to her spot behind the half door and nodded again and Hosea crossed the lounge to the bar.

He asked for a soda water and after he paid he packed his pipe and the barman lit it. The barman also placed a copy of the morning Tribune before Hosea, who looked at the headlines but was too distracted by the thought of Ava behind him to read beyond the banner.

“Say,” Hosea said, “might I talk to Mister Hruby?”

The barman grunted and disappeared into a doorway at the end of the bar. A minute later he returned, Hosea’s old friend Vaclav Hruby trailing behind him in a cloud of cigar smoke.

“You’ve made it out alive, friend,” Vaclav said.

“Alive and clearer of mind,” Hosea said.

Vaclav watched the barman resume his spot at the end of the counter, watched him pick up a newspaper and light a cigar himself.

When the barman was out of earshot, Vaclav said, “That’s the lass.” He nodded in the direction of the coatroom.

“Yes, I know,” Hosea said.

“She’s a good girl. She won’t cause trouble.”

“I’d like to speak with her. Alone,” Hosea said.

Vaclav stubbed out his cigar. “I told her the score. But if you want to talk to her, go ahead. Why don’t you wait upstairs in one of the rooms? Leave the door open. I’ll send her up.”

“Maybe it would be better to talk to her outside. Tell her to meet me at the artesian well in Lincoln Park. Give me a few minutes to get ahead of her.”

“You’re the boss, Grimm.”

So Hosea walked out of the bagnio, pausing outside to look back at the inconspicuous brownstone. He knew of a dozen other such places in cities on the water, places as far away as Acapulco and Bombay. He walked up Wrightwood Avenue, crossed the trolley tracks at North Clark, and reached the park five minutes later. It was a hot morning, humid, with low clouds hiding a hazy sun over the lake.

Hosea pumped the well until a steady flow of the sweet water poured from the spigot. He bent at the waist and let it pour into his mouth. When he was finished he removed the handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiped his lips and brow. He took a seat on a bench near the well, adjusted his hat, and turned his attention up the gravel path.

It was fifteen minutes before she arrived, wearing a different dress

than she’d had on in the coatroom. She walked quickly, a parasol over her shoulder. She wore white gloves. She was lovely.

“Good morning, Mister Grimm,” she said, offering a slight curtsy.

“Good morning. Thanks for joining me.”

“I’d do anything to get out of that nest of harlots,” she said.

“‘Nest of harlots,’ you say?”

She closed her parasol and stood before him. “Call them whatever you want.”

“Please, sit down.”

She sat on the bench beside him, crossed her legs and adjusted her skirts.

“Vaclav has informed you of my reason for being here, is that right?”

“He’s a pig.”

Hosea sat back and looked at her. A smile played across his face. “I’ll save you the trouble of a lifetime of discovery and tell you that all men are pigs.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“How old are you, Ava?”

“I’m thirteen.”

“Thirteen.”

“I’ll be fourteen at Christmastime.”

“Tell me, how did you end up in the employment of Vaclav Hruby?”

“I’m his slave is more like it.”

“Is your tongue always so sharp?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be wise.”

“So you’re unhappy working for Vaclav?”

“It could be worse.”

“Yes, I suppose it could always be worse.” Hosea tried to read the meaning of her quips. “I wonder, has Vaclav spoken of me?”

She uncrossed her legs and put her elbows on her knees. In that

pose she looked every bit the child she was. “He said you want to adopt me. Move me up to Minnesota.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Is that far away?”

“Minnesota? No, not far at all. Where I live — I should say where I’ll soon live — is on a lake much like this one —” he gestured at the wide waters of Lake Michigan “—a lake called Superior. Though the town is much smaller than Chicago. The whole of it would fit in Lincoln Park.” He looked south. “Might fit twice.”

“I don’t mind a small town. I was born up in a small town in Wisconsin.”

“What happened that you ended up an orphan?”

“Can’t say. I never knew my parents. I was born into that godawful orphanage. I ran away as soon as I thought to.”

“And came to Chicago? Why?”

“I stole two dollars from the orphanage. Chicago is as far away as I could get.”

“I see.”

“Don’t think I’m a thief. It’s the only time I ever stole anything. I had to. The headmaster at the orphanage was awful. I’ve worked for Vaclav for two years and never stole a red cent. And I could have. It would be easy.”

“That’s good. That’s good. I wouldn’t want to adopt a thief.”

“Why do you want to adopt anyone?”

Hosea looked at her, knew from the look in her eyes that it would be easiest to tell her the whole truth now, that any omission or lie would come back to haunt him tenfold. “I hope you’ll let me ask you a question, and I hope you’ll be honest. I put great stock in honesty.”

“Okay,” she said.

“I want to know what life has been like for you at Vaclav’s.”

She looked at him, confused.

“You’ve been a hostess, yes? And worked in the coatroom I see. Anything else?”

“Oh! No, nothing else. Well—”

“You must be completely honest, remember.”

She didn’t so much as flinch when she said, “I said Vaclav was a pig.”

“Do you mean to say he has made you available to his clients?”

“He made me available to himself, is what I mean.”

“Dear God,” Hosea whispered. “You poor child.”

“It was nothing the headmaster at the orphanage hadn’t done.”

Hosea put his hand on hers and looked her firmly in the eyes. “I want you to know that I will never, ever treat you that way. I will protect you as though you were my own flesh and blood.”

“Why?” she said.