The horse’s hooves clip-clopped over the cobblestones. Somewhere, a church tower struck midnight, and a late cable car rumbled by. The decrescent moon stood over the city, not hidden by clouds or fog tonight. With the unseasonable warm weather, it would have been a beautiful night if not for the tense silence between Kate and her parents. Since her father had called her to his study on Sunday night, they hadn’t exchanged more than a few words.
Dogs howled like a pack of wolves somewhere in the distance, setting off more barking from other dogs.
The horse pulling the cab snorted and pranced nervously, jostling the carriage.
Kate’s father had to grip his hat so it wouldn’t be bounced off his head. “Can’t you calm down the horse?” he shouted to the cabbie.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the driver answered. “I don’t know what’s going on with him. The darn animal has been like this all day.”
“Maybe it’s contagious,” her father muttered. “There seems to be a lot of rebellious behavior going around lately.”
“Pardon me, sir?”
“Nothing.”
But Kate had heard it loud and clear. She gritted her teeth and stared out into the darkness.
CHAPTER 12
Brunswick Boardinghouse
South of Market
San Francisco, California
April 18, 1906
Giuliana woke at her usual time, just as dawn was breaking. She climbed out of bed and was halfway through her ablutions when she remembered that she didn’t have to get up that early anymore to make it up to Nob Hill by six. Groaning, she stuck her face into the washbowl. The cold water hit her like a slap.
Get yourself together! You can’t continue like this.
It had been two days since Mr. Winthrop had dismissed her, but all she’d done so far was mope around as if someone had died. The thought brought back memories of Turi, which she quickly shoved away since they hurt too much. Her current situation was different. Turi had been her brother, the only member of her family here in Merica, while she had only known Kate for a few weeks. It shouldn’t hurt like this to know she’d never see her again.
As she straightened and shook her head, droplets of water sprayed everywhere.
So what if she’d lost her position? She would set out to find a new one today. Maybe she’d find an even better one, where the lady of the house wouldn’t inspect every bit of work she did, expecting failure at every step.
She went to the tiny window and opened it. A breeze brushed her damp face, warmer than it had been the last couple of days. The air smelled of spring. The bluish light of dawn began to brighten the horizon, and a few streetlamps had gone out already. A new day had started. Horses neighed and stomped their hooves in the livery stable across the street, but otherwise, the city was still silent. Not even the birds were singing.
How strange. But she had more important matters to think of than birdsong. The first thing she would do today was to send off the five dollars Mr. Winthrop had given her to her family. She didn’t want to use that coin to buy food for herself anyway, convinced that every bite would taste bitter. Then she would try to find another newsboy who could read her the help wanted advertisements.
Decision made, she put on her dress and slid the coin in a drawstring pouch dangling from a cord around her waist. Just as she slipped the pendant watch beneath her bodice, a low rumbling noise sounded outside.
Thunder?
But the sky had been clear a minute ago.
Then the low rumbling became a loud roar, and the wood floor beneath her began to shake.
A bolt of fear shot down her spine.
Plaster fell from the ceiling, covering her in dust. The entire house shook beneath her.
Earthquake!
She tried to make it to the door, but the floor bucked and bounced like a wild horse, tossing her across the room. The table hit her midriff. She gasped for breath. Before she could grab hold of something, she went down.
The washbowl crashed to the floor next to her, drenching her. Bigger pieces of plaster rained down all around her. She tried to get to her feet, but the floor beneath her swayed like a ship in heavy seas.
The windowpane shattered. The large trunk that held her clothes hopped through the room as if possessed by the devil. Outside, a hail of bricks crashed to the street, and church bells clanked wildly. The roof creaked above her, sounding as if it would fall down on her any second. Wood splintered.
Giuliana covered her head with both arms and started praying. Something hit her back, but she felt no pain. Was she still in bed, sleeping, and this was just a dream? She peered up.
Cracks zigzagged across the ceiling. More plaster rained down. A big piece hit her in the forehead, and this time, pain lanced through her.
Panic gripped her, but even if she knew where to flee from this disaster, she couldn’t. Getting up was impossible. The undulations shackled her to the groaning floor. She rolled to the side, beneath one of the beds, hoping she’d be safe from falling plaster. Blood dripped into her eye. She pressed her sleeve to her head and waited.
It seemed to last forever. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Everything went quiet. The silence was almost eerie. No screams, no shouts for help, only a trickle of falling bricks outside. Nothing moved on the landing. Not even the Koslowskis’ baby cried next door.
Diu miu!
Were they all dead? Trembling, Giuliana crawled out from under the bed. Something sharp pierced her palm. With a suppressed cry, she pulled her hand back and stared at the blood running down her palm. After a moment, she gave herself a mental kick and pressed a handkerchief to the cut.
The floor was strewn with shards of broken glass from the shattered window. The shelf had been overturned, tossing Giuliana’s few belongings all over the room. Plaster had fallen from the walls and ceiling, and a brick lay where Giuliana had huddled before rolling beneath the bed. Carefully, she stood, for a moment almost expecting to be slammed to the floor again. She found her shoes, shook wood splinters and glass from them, and put them on.
A haze of plaster dust filled the air, stinging her eyes and making her cough. A chalky taste coated her tongue. Then another smell, this one sharper, crept into her nose. It took her a moment to figure out what it was.
Gas!
A hissing sound came from the walls. The earthquake must have broken one of the gas pipes. One spark and the entire boardinghouse would explode.
Out!
She needed to get out of here—now!
On unsteady legs, Giuliana rushed to the door. She grabbed the doorknob, turned it, and pulled. The door refused to open. The sagging roof above her had jammed it into place.
A deep rumbling vibrated through her bones.
Another quake!
It would be upon her in seconds. She had to make it out now, or she’d be crushed to death. With a shout of despair, she threw her full weight against the door.
Pain shot through her shoulder. The wood didn’t give, and Giuliana was bounced across the room. She landed on the bed and held on for dear life. The house around her started to shake in a series of twists that were even stronger than the first shock, like a felucca being tossed about on rough sea. A beam crushed through the ceiling just a step to her left. The table collapsed beneath a hail of roof tiles.
With a loud crash, the house was knocked off its foundation. It listed to one side, and the floor became a slope. The bed with Giuliana on top careened downhill. She only had time to grab hold of the metal frame, then the bed collided with the wall, just beneath the open window.
For a moment, she thought the wall would collapse, throwing her to the street five stories below. Plaster and shards rained down on her, but the wall held.
White-knuckling the bed frame, she stared outside. Sixth Street seemed to move in waves, with wide cracks opening and closing. Cobblestones danced like popcorn popping in a hot pan.
The odor of gas became stronger, and the twisting motion of the earthquake showed no sign of letting up.
Should she try to jump out the window, to the roof of the Ohio House below?
Before she could gather her courage, the boardinghouse next door seemed to bow to hers, tilting toward it at a crazy angle. A second later, it collapsed in a heap of splintered boards. Bloodcurdling screams of the tenants drifted over.
Then a cloud of dust swept in through the shattered window, choking her.
Coughing and spitting, she strained to get away from the window. She struggled up the sloping floor toward the door. Twice she fell. She crawled the last yard on her knees.
A booming crash came from below, and the floor sank beneath her. With horrifying clearness, Giuliana realized what was happening: the boardinghouse was going down too.
With another crash, the next floor collapsed and then the one directly beneath hers. The cries of people being crushed to death drifted up. She hung on to the knob of the jammed door as the building went down beneath her.
* * *
What?
Someone was shaking her. Kate opened her sleep-crusted eyes with a groan. Through mere slits, she registered the dim light of dawn filtering in through the curtains. Why were her parents or Obedience waking her at this ungodly hour? “Not yet. I only just fell asleep.” She closed her eyes again.
A crash from the other side of the room startled her wide awake.
She sat up straight and realized that no one was shaking her—the earth was shaking, flinging her from side to side in the bed.
The chandelier above her swung back and forth like a pendulum. The golden clock on the mantelpiece hopped up and down and then crashed to the floor, but not before Kate had caught a glimpse of the time.
5:12 in the morning.
She hung on to the headboard as the bed shuddered and bucked beneath her.
After what felt like forever but was probably just a minute, the shaking stopped.
Slowly, Kate sat up in bed and took several deep breaths. She found her slippers and put them on before getting up and donning her robe.
Just as she was tying the belt, the shaking started again. At first, Kate thought it was just an aftershock. It had been the same way in the earthquake of 1898, a few days after Corny had died. But this time, instead of stopping after a few seconds, the shaking became even more violent.
Kate couldn’t stay on her feet. She tumbled back with a scream and landed on the bed. Once again, she hung on to the headboard like a circus rider to a wild horse as the room seemed to twist and bounce around her.
The framed black-and-white picture she’d taken of Mount Tamalpais last spring was thrown off the wall. Downstairs, pots banged in the kitchen, and a vase toppled over in the hall.
Then, as suddenly as it had started, the quake stopped. An eerie quiet descended on the house.
Kate clutched the headboard for a while longer before daring to swing her legs out of bed. For a moment, she thought the ground was still shaking, but then she realized that her knees were trembling.
Before she could reach the door, it was wrenched open. “Kate?” Her father stormed into the room.
“I’m fine, Father,” Kate said, trying not to show how shaken she was—literally. “Is everyone else all right?”
“Everyone’s fine. That was quite the temblor, wasn’t it?”
When he left to check on Obedience up in the attic, Kate quickly grabbed the dress she’d worn to the opera last night. Not bothering with the corset, she got dressed and rushed downstairs and out of the house. Not only would she be safer outside, where no furniture could topple over if aftershocks hit, but she also wanted to see if their street had survived without any harm.
Several of their neighbors were outside, checking the damage to their houses. Some had taken the time to get dressed while others had only slipped on their robes.
Kate’s father joined her as she wandered along California Street with the rest of the neighbors. Fortunately, their house had suffered little damage; just a bit of the cornice above one bay window had fallen.
Across Taylor Street, one of the chimneys of the Townes’ home had crashed down. A bit of the mane of a marble lion in front of the Huntington residence had been chipped off. Otherwise, the houses on their street seemed entirely intact.
Kate breathed a sigh of relief. San Francisco had been lucky. She shaded her eyes against the rising sun and looked south toward Market Street and the poorer parts of town. She could only hope that the boardinghouses along Sixth Street had fared as well.
Something unexpected caught her attention. Four columns of smoke rose above the tenements South of Market. “Father, look!” She clutched his sleeve. “Fire!”
Her father and several neighbors looked south.
“Everything down there is man-made ground, filled in with bricks, rotting timbers, and other debris,” her father said. “When you were born, that part of the city was bay. I bet the filled-in ground shook like jelly when the earthquake hit. A few lamps or stoves must have toppled over.”
A tight fist seemed to wrap around Kate’s heart. She had seen Giuliana’s run-down boardinghouse with its creaking stairs and thin walls. It wouldn’t survive an earthquake the strength her father was describing, and the dry wood would go up in flames within seconds.
“I need to go! Can I have the auto?”
“Now?” Her father looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Where on God’s green earth do you need to be now? Once your mother is dressed, we’ll drive around, take a look at the rest of the city, and maybe have breakfast at the St. Francis Hotel, but for now you should—”
She didn’t want to do any sightseeing or have breakfast at the St. Francis Hotel. She wanted to check on Giuliana. An anxiety like none ever before took hold of her. “No, Father. I can’t wait. Please!”
“No, Kate. Who knows what kind of condition the streets are in. I’m not letting you—”
Not waiting for him to finish his sentence, she ran down the hill as fast as her opera dress and the two petticoats allowed. He might be able to refuse her the use of the automobile, but he couldn’t stop her from going.
“Kate!” her father called after her. “Stop! Come back here this instant!”