A Room with More Than One Purpose

The doorway belonged to Ellis Ward. Ada knew it from the black E painted on the glass and from the noise behind it. Voices crowded the opening. Glass struck wood. Someone laughed too loudly. A chair scraped.

She paused before entering.

Cold found the damp places at her wrists. Main Street behind her was mostly dark between occupied buildings. Ahead lay warmth, noise, and the sort of trouble that could look harmless until it had swallowed a man’s wages.

Ada stepped inside.

Ellis saw her at once. He stood behind the bar with his sleeves rolled to the elbow. He was not a large man, but he watched the whole room: the door, the glasses, the cook at the back counter, the faro table, and two men arguing near the stove.

— Miss Price.

— Mr. Ward.

His eyes moved toward the faro table.

Ada followed them.

Tom sat there with his coat unbuttoned and mine dust still caught around his nails. He had arranged himself carelessly, but his shoulders were tight. Part of his wage packet lay open near his elbow.

Ada felt her stomach sink.

The room was not given over to drink alone. At the bar, men traded news about a hoisting crew. Near the back, a cook served fried steak from a small counter. Two teamsters ate standing up, coats still on. A woman carried plates through a side door. At the faro table, men leaned close over cards and coins.

One Bodie saloon was recorded as offering drink, food, and faro under one roof. That did not mean every place did. It was enough that Ellis’s room gave a tired man several ways to spend what he had earned.

Tom looked up.

— Ada.

— Tom.

— I’m busy.

— So I see.

— I said I’d spend a little.

— You said that before you sat near a table.

The man running the faro game glanced at her. He was narrow-faced, with a close-trimmed mustache and a dark vest. He dealt the cards and gathered the stakes when each hand ended. The players watched his hands because his hands decided where their coins went.

— Your sister has better sense than most customers, he said.

Tom’s jaw set. “Mind your table.”

Ada pulled a chair near the stove but did not sit. “How much have you lost?”

Tom looked away.

— That much, she said.

— Go back to the boardinghouse.

— No.

— You cannot stand over me all night.

— I have no wish to.

The tableman laid out another card. Tom watched with the fixed stare of a man trying to force luck by attention. He pushed one more coin forward.

The hand ended. The tableman gathered Tom’s coin with the others.

Tom did not move at first. Then his head came up.

— You took that before it was finished.

The tableman stopped. “No.”

— You moved my coin.

— I gathered the stakes after the hand.

— You had it under your fingers.

— I picked it up with the rest.

Tom shoved back his chair. It struck the wall.

The room did not fall silent. Talk only changed direction. Men at the bar turned their heads. The cook paused with a plate in his hand.

The tableman stayed where he was. “Sit down, miner.”

— You cheated me.

— You lost.

— I saw you.

Ada had seen it too. The man had gathered the coin after the hand was done. But Tom’s face said the loss had become unbearable the moment someone else’s hand touched his money.

Ellis came from behind the bar.

— Tom, he said. Step back.

— This is between me and him.

— It is happening at my table.

— Then tell him to give it back.

Ellis looked at the tableman. “Did you take a coin before the hand ended?”

— No.

Tom said, “He will not admit it.”

— Do you know he did?

Tom’s face reddened.

The tableman rose. Two companions near the wall stood with him. One reached for his coat.

Ellis lifted a hand. “Nobody rushes for anything.”

The tableman looked at Tom. “I came here to play cards, not wrestle a tired boy for his wages.”

Tom stepped toward him.

Ada reached him first. She planted both hands against his chest.

— Don’t.

— Move.

— No.

His eyes fixed on hers. Drink and humiliation had made them bright.

— He took it.

— You do not know that.

— I know what I saw.

— You saw yourself lose.

Tom’s breath came hard.

Ellis said, “You’ve had enough. No more whiskey.”

Tom turned toward the bar. “I have money.”

— Keep what you have left, Ellis said.

— I asked for a drink.

— And I said no.

The refusal landed hard. A few men nearby heard it. Tom heard them hearing it.

— You refuse a paying customer?

— I refuse a customer looking for a reason to fight.

Tom moved toward Ellis. Ada caught his sleeve.

The tableman started for the door. Tom saw him and pulled away from her.

— He owes me an answer.

— He owes you nothing, Ellis said.

— He cheated.

— You have no proof.

The door opened. Cold air swept in with the sound of a wagon passing too near the building. A horse snorted. Harness creaked. The driver shouted as a wheel struck a rut.

For a moment, every face turned toward the doorway.

The tableman used that moment. He went out with his companions.

Tom lunged after them.

Ellis caught the front of Tom’s coat and turned him back from the door. He did not strike him. He simply held him in place until Tom stopped fighting the grip.

— Let go, Tom said.

— Not until you decide whether you mean to walk out or chase men into a dark street.

Tom looked past him. The other men’s footsteps had already faded.

Behind the bar, Mara had stopped collecting glasses. The cook stood at the counter with a knife in his hand, not raised, but not put away either.

Ellis looked from Tom to the faro table. “That game is done.”

A customer at the bar raised his empty glass. “What about mine?”

— Finish it.

— And another?

— No.

The man frowned. “You closing?”

— I am ending service here.

— What time is it?

— Late enough for my purposes.

A few men laughed. Ellis did not.

The customer’s face hardened. “You cannot put us out because one fellow cannot hold his drink.”

— I can end service in my own room for any reason I judge sufficient.

— That is poor business.

— Tonight, it is business.

The man stood, slow and stubborn. For a moment Ada thought he might test Ellis. Mara moved between him and the bottles, carrying a tray of dirty glasses as if it were ordinary work. The cook came from the counter and began stacking plates with more force than necessary.

The customer looked around. He saw the faro game closing, the cook’s knife disappearing into the kitchen, and Tom still held at the door. Whatever argument he had hoped to win no longer had an audience.

— You will be begging for customers tomorrow, he said.

— Then come back tomorrow, Ellis replied.

The man went out, muttering.

Ellis turned to Mara. “Take the bottles from the side tables. Cook, put the knives away. Keep the back door shut.”

Mara gave him a quick nod. The cook did the same.

Those orders changed the room. A man near the stove pulled on his coat and decided he had better get to his boardinghouse. Two others wanted food and argued over which eating house might still serve them. A small group at the back discussed a dance hall farther down the street. One gambler asked where he might find another game.

Ellis did not answer him.

Other rooms in Bodie kept their own hours. Other doors would open or close according to other people’s needs. Ellis was ending service here because the quarrel had made this room unsafe.

Mara crossed to the faro table. As she bent to lift a chair, something rolled from beneath it and clicked against a boot.

A coin.

Tom saw it. His body tensed.

Mara picked it up and held it between finger and thumb. “Found one.”

— It’s mine, Tom said.

Ada looked at him. “How do you know?”

— It was under my chair.

— It may have been under anyone’s chair.

Tom took a step.

Ellis tightened his grip on Tom’s coat. “No.”

Mara looked to Ellis.

— Set it on the bar, he said. It stays there until morning.

Tom stared at the coin. His face worked as if he had more words ready, but none came out.

— It is one coin, Ada said quietly.

— It was mine.

— Maybe. But you do not know.

The answer angered him. Then the anger sagged. He looked toward the door instead.

Lin Wei appeared there with a parcel under one arm. He had come in from the cold and stopped when he saw the altered room: the faro table empty, Mara gathering glasses, the cook clearing the counter, Ellis holding Tom away from the street.

Lin looked at Ada. “Is he hurt?”

— No, she said. Only offended.

Tom muttered something under his breath.

Ellis released Tom slowly but kept himself between him and the door. He crossed to Lin.

— I need help getting him toward the mine road.

Lin’s expression stayed calm, but his eyes sharpened. “You need help, or you need someone to carry him away for you?”

— I need a man who knows the streets and will speak plainly to him.

— That is better.

— I am asking, Ellis said. Not ordering.

Lin shifted the parcel against his hip. “I have a delivery still to make. I will not abandon it.”

— No one asked you to.

— And I choose the route.

Ellis nodded. “Agreed.”

Lin considered Tom. “Can he walk?”

— I can walk, Tom said.

— Then do it without chasing anyone.

Tom gave him a dark look, but he did not argue.

The room emptied in layers. Chairs scraped over the floor. Mara wiped rings of spilled drink from tables. The cook carried away the last plates, then returned to sweep up broken crusts and a scatter of salt. Ellis counted the money from the bar into a small box and put it out of sight. These were his precautions for this business, on this particular night.

At the door, another lingering patron hesitated.

— You are putting us into the cold, he said.

— I am putting you out before someone gets hurt, Ellis replied.

— I know another place open.

— Then you have a destination.

The man left.

Tom stood at the threshold, looking into the dark. Ada could see a wagon moving slowly past, light at a restaurant door, and figures headed toward hotels and other rooms. Bodie had not shut down. It had simply begun sending people in different directions.

Ellis looked at Tom. “You are leaving now.”

Tom swallowed. “I did not ask to be escorted.”

— No, Ada said. You earned company.

His anger had not gone. But it no longer had a clear target.

Behind them, Mara lifted the latch on the door’s inner shutter.

— Mr. Ward, she said, if you mean to secure this place, secure it.

Ellis gave Ada a brief look. “Get him moving.”

— I intend to.

Lin stepped outside first. “Stay close,” he said. “And watch where you put your boots.”

Tom followed.

Ada went after him.