Harriet Beamer Takes the Bus (21 page)

A
FTER A HEARTY BREAKFAST OF DELICIOUS COFFEE, FRUIT, A
cinnamon roll, bacon, and eggs Harriet decided to walk down Wyatt Earp Boulevard and see the sights. The weather was great. Expected warm temperatures and blue skies. She found the main drag easily enough and visited several of the little shops and even managed to find three sets of shakers she could not live without. Next she found herself outside of the Dodge City Jail, watching a gunfight reenactment between a sheriff and some kind of desperado. She laughed at the jail sign that read B
UILT
A
ROUND
1868. It was little more than a concrete shack with one cell. It had bars on the door, no windows, and best of all, she was able to get a picture taken of her behind bars. She found someone who helped her text it to Henry.

She walked further on through the town and learned some history as she passed the general store and another saloon. She learned that a good buffalo hunter could make $100 a day in the 1800s. She passed statues of famous cowboys, including Bat Masterson and Wyatt Earp, and was quite surprised by a stagecoach whipping past. She bought several postcards for Henry, figuring he might use them as research. By noon she was tired of walking and needed a rest — since she was still lugging her suitcase, Harriet needed to take several breaks. She found a green bench advertising
a place called the Long Branch Saloon. She sat and yawned, and that was when a man about the size and stature of a beanpole plopped down next to her.

“Never wanted to come in the first place,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. Just ready to go home.” He smiled at her, and Harriet felt more at ease. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a paperback book. It was a Western from the looks of the cover — a cowboy, a horse, and enough tumbleweeds to dam the Ohio River. The man started to read and never looked Harriet’s way again.

Harriet pulled out her Moleskine and wrote:

Next on her agenda was to figure out how she could get out of Dodge; she had seen enough. The Long Branch Saloon, which she realized was sitting right smack dab across from her in a small strip of stores, looked inviting.

She sat at a table with a red and white gingham tablecloth and ordered a cup of coffee and a slice of apple pie. As she was eating she noticed a sign on a stage. It was old-timey writing with curlicues and flourishes. It read, M
ISS
K
ITTY’s
C
ANCAN
R
EVIEW.
F
IRST
S
HOW —
H
IGH
N
OON.

“That sounds like fun. I’ve never seen a cancan,” she said to her waiter.

“Miss Kitty is pretty amazing. Show starts in less than a half hour.”

She had just ordered a cherry Coke and French fries when a curtain opened on the stage and a group of dance-hall girls came out onto the stage, dancing what Harriet thought must be the cancan. They danced by lifting their skirts and kicking out their legs, just like Harriet had seen in the movies, nothing too provocative. There were children in the restaurant. She enjoyed the
show so much she asked her waiter if there was any way she could meet the woman they introduced as Miss Kitty Bloom of Dodge City. She seemed to be the star of the show. Kitty was dressed in a period costume with black lace-up boots and a bright blue satin dress with a black bustier top that had more ruffles in it than a meringue. Her dress had puffy sleeves, and she wore a matching hat with a long black feather. Harriet thought she was spectacular and wanted to tell her. And she looked quite a bit older than the cancan saloon girls. Harriet admired that.

Twenty minutes went past, and Harriet was about to give up on meeting Miss Kitty Bloom when she saw a woman approach her table.

“Howdy,” she said. “I understand you wanted to meet me.”

Well, Harriet had never been so thrilled. It was Miss Kitty Bloom standing right there in front of her.

“I just had to tell you how much I enjoyed the show,” Harriet said. “Especially when you sang and shot the pistols in the air.”

“Thank you,” Kitty said. “Most folks just come in here to wet their whistle. Not sure if anyone pays attention. That’s why I’m taking the show on the road.”

“On the road?” Harriet said.

“Yep. I’m taking me and the girls up to Pueblo … that’s in Colorado. I got an offer to do the show for fourteen nights up there. It was an offer too good to resist. Besides, I really need to get out of this armpit of a town.”

“Oh, I think it’s rather nice. I like the whole Western thing. I saw a gunfight and got my picture taken in jail. I sent it to my son and daughter-in-law. They’ll get a kick out of it.”

“That’s nice. Well, if there’s nothing else —”

“No, I just wanted to make your acquaintance. I’m just gonna sit awhile and figure out my next plan of action.”

“Plan of action?” Miss Kitty sat at Harriet’s table. “What do you mean?”

“I’m traveling to Grass Valley, California. I stopped here on
account of the nice Amtrak ticket man said it was a nice place. But now I have to find my way to Denver, Colorado.”

“Goodness gracious, girl,” Miss Kitty said. “You got some … well, let’s say
nerve.
“

“Not really. The bus drivers and train conductors do the work. I just have to find my way to them.”

“But still —”

That was when a waiter walked up behind Kitty. “Excuse me, but I just had to ask. Are you the woman in the video? The one who beat up the purse snatcher?”

Harriet swallowed and nodded. “You mean that’s still making the rounds?”

“Wait just a cotton-pickin’ minute,” Miss Kitty said. “You mean we got us a celebrity?”

“No, no,” Harriet said, “I just did what anyone would do. I couldn’t let that hooligan steal that old woman’s purse.”

The waiter laughed as he refilled Harriet’s water glass.

“Well, now,” Harriet said. “She was older than me. I’m only seventy-two.”

“You’re as young as you feel,” Miss Kitty said.

“That’s true, but I am starting to feel a little bedraggled. It’s been a long trip. And I still have miles to go before I sleep.”

“Robert Frost,” said Miss Kitty.

Harriet smiled. “I don’t suppose you know anything about public transportation around here. I could take the train, but … well, I see so much of the country on the bus.”

“Well now, I have an idea if you’re game.” Miss Kitty laughed so hard the table shook.

“The girls and me are taking the Beeline Express now that it stops in Dodge.”

“Beeline Express?”

“Yep, take us clear to Pueblo. Ain’t that a stroke of good luck?”

“Yes, yes, it is. Can anyone ride this Beeline?”

“Sure. You interested?”

“Well, yes, leastways I’d be heading west,” Harriet said. She liked the way Miss Kitty made eye contact. Harriet could tell she was warm and sensitive and wound up telling her the entire story. Miss Kitty stayed glued to every word.

“Harriet,” Miss Kitty said when she finished her story, “I would be honored if you rode along with me and the girls.”

“Really. I can travel with you and the cancan dancers?”

“Sure cancan.” She smiled. “I have one more show in about twenty minutes, and then I’m blowing this joint. Well, not until tomorrow mornin', but yeah, I’m outta here.”

“Getting out of Dodge,” Harriet said.

“Now there’s one I haven’t heard.” Miss Kitty winked.

Harriet looked over at the stage. “Boy, I wish —” Before she could finish her sentence one of the dancing girls interrupted them.

“Miss Kitty,” she said, “it’s Betty. She sprained her ankle in the last show and says she can’t go on.”

Miss Kitty shook her head. “Geeze, okay, call the doc, and we’ll just have to do it without her.”

“Okay, Miss Kitty.”

Miss Kitty looked at Harriet. “What were you saying?”

Harriet’s heart raced. “Oh, well, I was just gonna say I wish I could do what you do … up there swishing your skirts around like that.”

“Want to do it?”

“What? Really?”

“Come on, I’ll hook you up with a costume. We have room in the line now. What do you say? You’ll be doing me a favor. DottyJo will teach you the steps in no time. And what you don’t know — you fake. Believe me, no one will know the difference.”

Harriet fit into the saloon dancer outfit with no trouble at all. DottyJo zipped her right into it and then pinned a large black
flower in Harriet’s hair. Her costume had a pink skirt and a bright blue bustier with ruffles. Harriet saw herself in the standing mirror. She looked like she had just stepped out of a movie set.

DottyJo looked Harriet up and down. “You are one gorgeous dancer. Now come on, I’ll teach you the steps.”

“Are you sure you can? I am not much of a dancer. Never was.”

“Nothin’ to it, honey, just follow along and kick as high as you can. Swish your skirt like you’re puttin’ out a fire.”

“Okay,” Harriet said, her heart all aflutter.

She practiced for a few minutes until Miss Kitty called them all to the stage. “Let’s go, girls. One more show, then it’s on to the bright lights and the big time.”

Harriet heard the music swell as she and the girls lined up on stage. The curtain opened and Miss Kitty began to sing as the girls stood still with their arms interlocked. Harriet was the last dancer on the left. Then as Miss Kitty sang, the music grew faster, and all of a sudden she and the other dancers were moving around so fast Harriet needed to catch her breath. They kicked their legs high and swished their skirts. Harriet could hardly believe she was on stage dancing the cancan in Dodge City. But she was. And when the show ended and the audience applauded, Harriet’s heart swelled with the music.

“This was one of the best days of my life,” she told Kitty backstage. “Thank you so much for letting me do it.”

“You’re a natural,” DottyJo said, “a born dancer.”

Harriet felt her face flush. “No. Just this once is fine with me.” She huffed and puffed. “Maybe I am getting too old for adventure.”

After a restful night at the Comfort Inn near the Boot Hill Casino, Harriet met Miss Kitty and the girls at the saloon. The six girls, including Betty, who was leaning on crutches, were huddled in a circle with their luggage off to the side.

Miss Kitty stood a few yards from them looking over a clipboard.

“Morning, Miss Kitty,” Harriet said. “Thank you again for yesterday.”

“No problem, honey. I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

The bus pulled up to the curb. It was big. Red on the top, gray in the middle, and blue on the bottom. But the paint was so slick and shiny Harriet decided it was the prettiest bus so far. It had large tinted windows. There was a fun red, blue, yellow, and orange logo on the side that said B
EELINE
with a picture of a yellow-and-black bee raring to go.

“Let’s go, girls,” Miss Kitty called.

The girls grabbed their bags by the extension handles and pulled them to the bus, where the driver piled them into a luggage compartment like fish in a sardine can. Kitty waited with her clipboard until each of the girls boarded the bus. The driver helped Betty board. Harriet and Miss Kitty followed.

“Hey,” Betty said, “you were pretty good last night. But don’t get any ideas, sweetie.” Then she smiled.

Harriet laughed. “Don’t you worry about that. These tired legs are only interested in getting to California now.”

The bus driver pulled away from the curb and Harriet was off to Pueblo, Colorado, with Miss Kitty and the western showgirls.

H
ENRY OPENED THE
W
EDNESDAY PAPER, BUT HIS MIND
wasn’t really on the news. His thoughts kept shifting between Cash and Turtle Creek and wishing Prudence would decide about having a baby. “I’m almost forty,” he told Humphrey, who was sitting at his feet, poised for a treat. “I want to be able to play ball with him —”

Humphrey barked.

“Or her.” Henry snagged a bag of dog treats from the end table. “Here you go. Enjoy.”

Humphrey happily chewed on a leathery strip of beef.

Henry found the sports pages. He still followed the Phillies. Prudence padded her way down the steps. “Morning,” she called as she made a beeline into the kitchen.

“Coffee’s on,” Henry called.

She waved on her way past.

Henry’s phone chimed. “It’s Mom,” he said.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Henry. Henry can you hear me? The connection isn’t very good.”

“Mom? Yes, Mom, I can hear you. Sort of.”

“Henry, it’s me, Mom. I’m calling from … someplace. We stopped at a McDonald’s. I ordered a Big Mac and a Coke and fries.”

“That’s good, Mom. Which McDonald’s?”

“Hold on, I’ll ask Miss Kitty.”

“Lamar,” Harriet said a few seconds later. “Lamar, Colorado. “On our way to Pueblo.”

“Who is Miss Kitty?” Henry asked.

“A saloon-hall dancer. I suppose that’s what she is. In any event, she’s a sweet lady I met in Dodge City.”

“Dodge City? Really, Mom? You mean like in the Westerns?”

“That’s right. And Henry, people really do like this cowboy stuff.”

Henry swallowed. “Did you just approve of what I’m doing?”

“Didn’t Prudence show you the picture of me I sent … I mean texted her yesterday?”

“No, she didn’t. But she got in from Sacramento late.” It was hard to know if his mother heard his question or not.

“Well ask her to show you.” By now Harriet was shouting. “Listen son, I got to go. Just wanted to check on you.”

“Mom, I opened one of your packages. The one you self-addressed.”

“You what?”

“I opened the package. I found the bib. Mom you really shouldn’t — there’s something you should know.”

“What’s that dear?”

The connection was dropped just as Henry looked up and saw Prudence.

The dance troupe and Harriet filed onto the bus, and the driver pulled out onto the flat highway once again heading for Pueblo.

“Not so sure what I’ll do once I get there,” Harriet told Miss Kitty. “Probably spend the night for sure.”

“You’ll figure it out, Harriet Beamer. Look how far you’ve come. How many buses do you figure you’ve taken?”

“I lost count after twenty-one but that includes trains, a helicopter, a trolley, and a motorcycle sidecar.”

“You’re one incredible broad,” Miss Kitty said. “You knock my socks clear off my feet. I wish I had your guts.”

“Nah, it’s not about that. It’s about — well, I’m not sure. I think it’s about following a dream. You see, all my life things just happened
to
me — you know I just let things happen. Max made all the decisions. Henry sold Max’s business. Other people sent me salt and pepper shakers from all over the world —”

“And you just wanted to get your own dang salt and pepper shakers,” Miss Kitty said.

“That’s right. I’m seventy-two years old, don’t have many good years left. I needed to dance the cancan and get my own shakers. Be … well, be the person I think God intended me to be.” Harriet looked out her window. “Yeah, it was time to step out on my own. I needed to do … to do something.”

Miss Kitty took Harriet’s hand. “You’re an inspiration.”

“You sure are,” DottyJo said from the seat in front. “I ain’t never gettin’ stuck in a rut.” She turned around and looked into Harriet’s eyes. “I’m gonna carve my own path.”

“Just make sure it’s the right path,” Harriet said. “I’m not saying you won’t get lost a time or two. But just do Mrs. Beamer a favor and take the time to have dreams.”

Ninety minutes later, the bus pulled into the Pueblo Transit Center, a long, kind of nondescript, pinkish building. Harriet didn’t think it was as impressive as some of the other transit centers she had visited. She thought for a second as the driver brought the bus around back and parked his rig. But the saddest part of the more than five-hour trip from Dodge City was saying good-bye to Miss Kitty. Miss Kitty stood on the pavement with the girls, checking her clipboard as the driver unloaded their suitcases.

“I hate to leave you,” Harriet said.

“I know, I know,” Miss Kitty said. “But you look me up sometime. I have a feeling this won’t be your last trip.”

Harriet laughed as she hiked her now very heavy tote bag onto her shoulder with a grunt. “I don’t know. These old bones and muscles might not be up to another cross-country jaunt.”

“Old? After all that dancing you did yesterday? Why Harriet Beamer, you are not old. You’re just getting started. Your life is your own now.”

“Um, maybe,” Harriet said as they walked toward the street. Two taxis were waiting for the dance troupe. She had never thought about her life being her own. It always seemed to belong to others, family, friends and most importantly, God.

“Can we drop you anywhere?”

“Well, I made a reservation at the Marriott. I don’t think it’s far from here, and I think I’ll hoof it.”

“Long as you’re sure.”

Harriet leaned into the cab. “Thank you, Miss Kitty,” Harriet said as they hugged. “I had so much fun.”

“Now you look me up some time, and by the way, my real name is Francine Lipshutz.”

Harriet laughed. “I much prefer Miss Kitty.”

Harriet settled into her room at the Marriott around 3:45 that afternoon. It wasn’t until she sat on the bed that she realized how pooped she was from the long Beeline Express ride, although she did enjoy talking to Miss Kitty. She removed her sneakers and let go a huge sigh.

“You look terrible,” she said to her reflection in the mirror. “Your hair is a fright and … oh my goodness, where are your cheaters?” Harriet always wore her reading glasses around her neck. “Now what did I do with them?”

She dumped the contents of her tote bag onto the bed and rifled through it. No glasses. Next she searched her suitcase, but no cigar. The glasses were gone. She looked at herself in the mirror
again. “Now you need to buy a new pair. I just hope they carry them in the hotel store. I really don’t feel like going out.”

So after a shower and locating the guest laundry, Harriet visited a store in the hotel. Fortunately they carried the reading glasses. She tried on several pair until finally settling on a pair with a zebra print frame. “These will do.”

By the time she made it back to her room after finishing up her laundry it was nearing six o’clock — dinnertime — again. “I don’t think I used to eat so often at home,” she said. “Must be traveling. It gives me an appetite.”

According to the information she found on the credenza in her room the hotel had two restaurants, one in the bar and the other … well, same name, Charley B’s, but not a bar. When she arrived in the lobby she gathered a couple of brochures to read while dining. The first one she looked at caught her eye and even sent a chill whizzing down her spine. It was for the Royal Gorge Bridge and Park. The gorge dropped a thousand feet straight down into the Arkansas River. The sight itself was amazing, but the thought of crossing the gorge made her a little bit nauseated. The bridge looked scary enough, but when she saw that it could be crossed by an aerial tram ride she felt dizzy. Imagine that, suspended a thousand feet over a river on a cable!

Her phone rang just as her waiter brought her cheeseburger.

She looked at her phone. Henry’s home number. “Hi, honey,” she said, expecting Henry. But it was Prudence.

“It’s Prudence, Harriet.”

“Oh, Prudence. How are you, dear?”

“Henry showed me the bib, Harriet. You had no right to —”

“Hold on a second, Prudence. First of all Henry should not have opened my mail and secondly —”

“How could you do this? Having a child is between Henry and me.”

“I never said it wasn’t. I didn’t intend for —”

Harriet thought she heard Prudence sniff like she’d been crying.

“Are you all right, dear?” Harriet asked.

“Mom, it’s Henry. I’m sorry. But the bib … well it … it —”

“It what, Henry? I wasn’t going to give it to you until the time was right. That’s why I sent it addressed to me.”

“Mom, there’s something you should, know.”

Harriet swallowed. “What is it?”

“Pru and I … we’ve lost two babies already. Miscarriages.”

Harriet felt like she had been punched in the stomach. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes. “Oh, honey, I’m … why didn’t you tell me? And here I’ve been going off on you two, trying to put pressure on you to have a — I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t know. We were having a hard time with the whole pregnancy thing. We didn’t tell you because we didn’t want to get your hopes up or make you worry.”

“Oh, Henry, I feel awful. Put Prudence back on please. If she wants.”

Harriet waited a long minute. She heard them talking but couldn’t make out what they were saying. But in that long minute, Harriet needed to choke back tears of her own to stay strong for Henry and Prudence.

“Hello, Mom?”

“I’m so sorry, dear. I was wrong to put pressure on you. I thought you were putting your career first, waiting until things took off. Forgive me for hurting you. I promise I won’t mention it again.”

“Thank you.”

There was a long pause between them until Harriet said, “But, Prudence, honey. I really do understand. And I want you to know that I’m here for you, or I will be there for you soon — but —” she needed to sniff back a tear — “only if you want.”

“Thanks, Mom. But, I’m okay … really. I just need time.”

Harriet heard a little shuffle on the other end.

“Mom?” It was Henry.

“Henry, I’m very sorry for giving you such a hard time about having kids and about selling Dad’s business and running off to write books. I know you needed to follow your heart, and I’m sorry if my nagging made it hard for you to tell me about your babies.”

“I know, Mom. Let’s just start fresh when you get here,” Henry said.

“Okay, Son. And please tell Prudence I never meant for her to see the bib.”

Harriet clicked off her phone and sighed. Poor Prudence. Poor Henry.

The conversation made Harriet lose her appetite. But she knew she needed to eat to keep up her strength. She still had a long way to travel. She chewed a French fry as she looked at the picture of the aerial tram on the table.

“I wonder … do I dare?”

Harriet finished her pie and headed for the front desk. She was greeted by a nice tall man in his late fifties. He wore a large gerbera daisy in his lapel.

“I like your flower,” Harriet said.

“Well, thank you, honey. I just love my gerberas.”

“I was wondering” — Harriet pointed to the tram — “can you tell me how I can get there from here? I don’t have a car. I’m taking buses — well, mostly buses the whole way across the country.”

The concierge looked at Harriet for a long second or two. “Royal Gorge. Um, that could be a bit of a sticky wicket. Although —” he tapped his finger against his temple —“I did hear about a new shuttle service that’s taking folks clear up to Salida, and Cañon City is halfway there. In the middle. Maybe they stop. I’ll call and let you know in the morning. Would that be okay?”

“Thank you,” Harriet said. “I’ll be in my room for the rest of the night.”

Back in her room, Harriet changed into her blueberry-stained
nightgown and slipped into bed. She yawned twice before reaching for her notebook.

She sighed and leaned her head into the pillows. Tears threatened. She squeezed them back and returned to her letter.

She went back and underlined the word
never.

Henry found Prudence on the back deck, sipping iced tea and staring out over the garden. She looked sad.

“What’s wrong?” Henry asked.

Prudence turned toward him. “Oh, I’m just thinking.”

Henry moved closer and put his arms around her waist. “About … a baby?”

She pulled away from him. “No … well, not exactly. Not just … that. Your mother, also. And about being on the council — everything, I suppose.”

“Well, look, you needn’t think about babies anymore. I’m sorry this happened. I’m sorry about my mother. My mother’s sorry about the whole thing. She would never —”

Prudence pulled the tumbler from her mouth. “I know. It’s just that maybe … maybe it’s a sign of some sort. Maybe it is time to —”

Henry smiled and said, “Really?”

“To seriously consider the possibility.”

“Good enough.”

Prudence kissed Henry. “I need some more time to pray and think.”

“Okay. I love you, Pru.”

Humphrey trotted onto the deck and sniffed the air. He lay down at Prudence’s feet and let go a contented sigh.

“That silly dog. Sometimes I think he can read minds.”