“
What?” Izzie sat up on the sofa and looked for the man who had spoken to her. “Roland?”
“
There’s Hannah.”
“
What’s that?” Izzie waited for the door to open, someone to show themselves. She listened and waited, but that was the end of it.
It had been quite a while since she’d heard voices outside of a trance. She wasn’t afraid of them anymore. She had learned from Anna and Mrs. Fielding to concentrate, to open other ears inside her, to hear them better or if need be, to cover those ears to silence them. Sometimes she’d hear a word or two and try to understand the message or pick up pen and paper and trance write. But this morning she didn’t want to stop and listen for messages. She wanted to see Clara and Euphora.
<><><>
IN THE BRIGHT SUMMER MORNING at Mary Johnson’s, the house was no longer exuding frivolity. It was dead quiet. Clara, dressed plainly and without face paint, answered the door herself. Izzie’s heart burst with joy at the sight of her. It was truly Clara—an older Clara—but truly Clara. Izzie stepped inside and embraced her sister.
“
My little Clara, what have you been through?”
She took Clara’s hands and they looked at each other a moment.
“
Did you ever walk along Broadway when you were here?” Clara asked.
“
Often.”
“
Let’s stroll down to the Battery while it’s still cool. I like it when the street is waking up. We can look at the ships.”
“
What about Euphora?”
“
Afterward. I have things to tell you I don’t want her to hear.”
“
But the trains. We’ll be late to leave. Can you tell me later?”
“
Let me have a day or two with you before you go.”
Izzie yanked at Clara’s hands. “A day or two! Clara, you must come with me. I insist. I demand it.”
“
I can’t go with you.” Clara slid her hands out of Izzie’s grip.
“
Why?”
“
Walk with me.”
“
Please, Clara. I’ve come to take you home.”
“
We have so much to tell each other.”
Clara seemed entirely resolute standing there on the stoop. She wasn’t going to change her mind. A shuffling sound on the stairway behind her drew Izzie around. A gentleman in a gray suit had just come downstairs and was approaching them.
“
Good morning, Lizette.”
He paused a moment and put on his stovepipe hat, then proceeded toward the front door, winking at Izzie as he passed her. Clara smiled briefly at him. Had he been her visitor last night? Clara’s gaze did not follow him as he left, but remained fixed on Izzie.
Then Izzie walked with Clara south along Broadway, and once they passed Houston Street, they strolled by the Metropolitan Hotel, Henry Wood’s Marble Hall, Taylor’s Saloon, and the theaters and galleries and furniture stores. It was familiar. Izzie had walked along Broadway many times looking for Clara and Euphora. As they walked along, Clara pointed out her favorite places—Wallack’s Theater, Barnum’s American Museum, the Lyceum Theater.
“
But most of all I love Stewart’s and wandering from department to department. My friend Hannah and I can spend an entire afternoon there.”
“
Hannah?”
“
My dearest friend. She’s been with me since I first arrived here.”
Izzie wondered if the voice that had awoken her during the night had been referring to Clara’s friend. It seemed a strong coincidence.
Clara began to babble on again about Stewart’s, how elaborate it was, how the young shop men darted around trying to assist you, how the light showered down through the Rotunda, how the wealthy men and women pored over coats, furs, rugs, linens, dresses, perfumes. Her voice rose and fell as she described finery after finery.
Izzie wanted to hear about Papa, about Euphora, about the parlor house, even about this Hannah, but she let Clara prattle on. It was reassuring to see Clara no matter what she wanted to speak about. Izzie knew Clara was avoiding the difficult things they had to discuss and that she needed a little time to get the courage to reveal what happened.
“
Here it is. Chambers Street. The Marble Palace. A.T. Stewart’s. Look, they’ve just opened. Shall I show you? You’ve never been in?”
“
I can’t shop now. I have to know what happened to you. Please.”
Looking a little sheepish as though Izzie had caught her in a trick, Clara agreed and they went on to the Castle Garden, then strolled along the Bay Harbor. It was already growing hot and humid. They had to detour around a cluster of men who were hoisting large crates onto a tall ship.
“
Are you a real Spiritualist now, Iz?”
“
I suppose I am.”
“
What is it like? What happens? Do you really hear voices like Mamma did?”
“
I don’t think I am like Mamma. I’ll never know, of course.”
“
I always knew you had a gift.”
“
When I hear the voices, I still keep a sense of where I am. I don’t think Mamma did. When I was in Rochester, I started hearing them and I tried as hard as I could not to, but I was miserable and exhausted when I fought to shut them out. Mac tried to cure me with a water-cure method, but it was Mrs. Fielding and Anna who helped me.”
“
Do you hold séances like we used to?”
“
It’s not the same as our antics. I practiced Spiritualism with Mrs. Fielding and Anna for a while when I was trying to find you. I’d beg the spirits for information about where you were but they never gave me anything to go on. Then when I went home, Mac introduced me to some Spiritualists in Rochester. I sit with them and we take turns with trances. I don’t know if I will hold my own séances or not. People have started asking me to. If you would come home with me, I could teach you what I know and we could work together again as genuine mediums. Not as hoaxes.”
“
It’s not for me. I want to become an actress like Laura Keene. She has her own theater on Broadway, near Houston Street. Have you seen it?”
A pair of Bowery b’hoys, one in green and yellow plaid pants and coat, the other in wide blue and cream stripes, strode by, looking them up and down. “Morning, ladies,” the one in plaid said. They stood about eight feet away and lit smelly cigars.
“
Maybe Euphora would like to learn from you,” Clara said.
“
I’d rather you.”
It was Clara she had to get to Rochester. Izzie believed Euphora would come without hesitation.
The b’hoys sauntered away.
“
I’m sorry, Iz.”
“
Please, Clara, tell me about Billy and Papa and Mrs. Purcell. Tell me everything.”
Clara arched her back as though Izzie had poked her, then was silent a moment. A ship crew, calling out commands to each other, worked at raising sails on a ship close by. At the bow, seagulls squawked and swirled where a deck hand dumped the contents of several barrels into the water. The walk was busy with travelers, ship hands, dock men, servants.
“
Can anyone hear us?” Clara’s brown eyes flitted around.
“
No one is paying attention to us. Those two Bowery b’hoys are gone. Let’s walk over there.” Izzie pointed to a path that led away from the harbor activity.
When they reached the end of the path, Clara grasped the railing and faced out toward the water, toward Governor’s Island. Her mouth and eyes twitched as she began to speak.
“
After you left…do you remember I wrote you about Isaac Camp and how he ruined my reputation as a medium?”
Izzie nodded.
“
Then our money dried up and Papa was drinking all the time. He was surly with the three of us, but most of all with Billy. I wrote you how he hit him badly and threatened him. He was cruel, Iz, and Euphora was scared all the time.” Clara stopped a moment and looked like she was about to cry.
Izzie felt like she was going to explode and she hadn’t even heard anything new from Clara yet. She took a deep breath. It was going to be more awful than anything she imagined. It was going to be horrible. She rested a hand on Clara’s shoulder and looked out at the water with her.
“
It broke my heart to see Billy tortured like that. I kept thinking I could fix it. I could protect him. I could make Papa stop if I did everything he told me to. He promised me if I did certain things for him, for the family, and kept secrets, he wouldn’t hurt Billy.”
Izzie lost her breath. “Damn him. I would have torn his face off. What did he have you do?”
Clara tilted her head down, then turned her eyes out to the water again. Izzie remembered the night she told Mac about the voices and how he sat with his back to her. Somehow he had known sitting like that would make it easier for her to confide in him.
“
By the end of the summer we owed Mrs. Purcell money. Things kept getting worse between her and Papa, too. After Papa hurt Billy so badly that last time in the winter, Billy ran away. Mrs. Purcell became fearsome worried for me and I was fearsome worried for Euphora. She wrote her cousin, Mrs. Hogarth, and asked if she could take us secretly in for a while. Then the very night after we left, Mrs. Purcell fell and died on her icy front steps.”
“
I arrived later that day at the house. I was worried and I finally came for you.”
“
You did?”
“
That’s why I came to New York City. The sheriff found out you had tried to buy rail tickets for New York City. Do you think Papa killed her?”
“
When Papa found me and came to the parlor house, he told me it was an accident because of the ice. He said he wasn’t even there. Do you think he could have pushed her?”
“
I don’t know.” Izzie grasped the iron railing. “Poor, sweet Mrs. Purcell. Do you think he could have?”
Clara winced and nodded, then turned one more time to stare out at Governor’s Island. She began to tell the rest of her story of Papa and the Spirit Room. First, there was the strange courtship with Sam Weston. Stuttering a little, Clara told about Weston’s strange frigging himself near her and her disbelief that Papa understood what Sam was doing, her disbelief that Papa not only had agreed to it, but took money for it. Clara had trouble finding the words to describe everything, but Izzie understood. Clara spoke of gifts from Sam and Papa, perfume and jewelry and clothing, that made it all seem better than it was. She explained how Papa used threats to hurt Billy to keep her silent and agreeable.
While Clara spoke, Izzie imagined tracking Papa down at Pike’s Peak and finding some way of ruining him. Then Clara began to cry as she told about Minnie’s parlor house and losing her virginity to Sam and then becoming Sam’s paramour.
“
Why didn’t you refuse Sam, refuse Papa?”
Clara cried harder. “I tried at first but I couldn’t. I was confused. I was afraid.”
“
You could have gotten on a train and come to me anytime.”
“
I thought I was protecting Billy. I was so afraid.” She was silent for a few moments. “Then I got used to it, I suppose.” Her sobbing subsided. “I got used to the attention, the money and the gifts. They treated me like I was beautiful, a glorious young lady. I got used to it.”
“
Is that how it is now at the parlor house?”
“
I am always chosen right away so I never worry about money. And I have my friend, Hannah. We stick together.”
There was that name again. This time it stabbed a little. This Hannah had become the sister Izzie had not been.
“
Does Euphora know any of this?”
“
No. I have managed to keep it from her.”
Clara went on with her story. Izzie couldn’t believe there was more, but Clara told of the second man, John Reilly. Clara had begun to extort money from him on her own so that she could leave one day. She said after several times with him, she had to admit to herself that she was not just a paramour to one man, but a prostitute. Izzie heard the word stick in Clara’s throat.
Clara went on. “Mrs. Purcell and Mrs. Beattie had seemed suspicious of my routine in the Spirit Room and asked about it. Then Mrs. Purcell finally came forward and offered to help me and Euphora. Then Billy ran away. After that, Papa told me the family needed more money and he wanted to teach Euphora to be a medium and join me in the Spirit Room. But that’s not what he wanted to teach Euphora. He wanted to make her into a whore like he did me. Sweet little Euphora with her joyful way. I couldn’t let him crush that. I had to get her away from him.”