Firestorm! Page 8

  “So it’s true, then, that you’re a friend of the Butterworth family? The ones that own the jewelry store?”

  “I guess so. I went to see their son Justin’s pet goat.”

  “You went to visit a goat?” Ma laughed her toothless smile.

  “Yes, and then they invited me to supper and gave me this dress.”

  “Well, I have a job for you, Poppy. I want you to stay friends with that Butterworth boy and his folks. Yep. Then I want you to do one simple thing. I want you to get me a key to the Butterworths’ jewelry store. That’s all you have to do.”

  So that’s what Ma is after—a key. I’ll never tell her I already have a wax of the key. But how could she do this to the Butterworths, who had been so good to her? Why, she almost felt like a good person herself when she was with them.

  “I don’t want to do that, Ma,” Poppy said. “I don’t want to steal from them.”

  “Oh, my! Our little Poppy suddenly has that thing they talk about in church: a conscience. Now you’ve got God, too, I suppose.”

  “I ain’t never gone to church, as you know. And I don’t know God. But I know one thing. I like them people—the Butterworths. And I ain’t goin’ to steal from them.”

  “I didn’t ask you to steal. All you have to do—like I just said—is get me a key or a copy in wax. No one will ever know it was you.” Ma didn’t seem sweet anymore. Her eyes narrowed and she was beginning to sound like her usual mean self.

  “I can’t!” Poppy said, getting up from the bench. “And I won’t!”

  “Oh, tsk-tsk. That’s too bad. I’d hate to think something bad would happen—maybe to that cute little goat.” Ma grabbed Poppy by the arm, her fingers clutching so tightly that Poppy winced. “Here’s the deal. You do what I say and that little goat will be happy and healthy. If you don’t …” Ma’s face darkened and her voice was icy cold. “I hear goats make a real nice juicy stew.”

  Poppy’s stomach turned and she felt as if she might faint. “No! Don’t you touch Ticktock. I’ll do whatever you want, but don’t you lay a finger on her!”

  TUESDAY MORNING,

  OCTOBER 3, 1871

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  - Mew -

  “Do you want scrambled eggs and a slice of ham, Justin?” Claire asked her brother once they were in the kitchen.

  “Yes, I’m hungry.”

  “We were both up before dawn. Here, have some tea while I make breakfast.” She poured tea from the large teapot that was always simmering on the stove.

  “Remember,” Justin reminded her, “don’t say anything to anyone about someone sleeping in the goat house. Father or Charlie would stay up all night watching and would scare anyone away—and Mother would be frightened.”

  “I won’t say anything yet,” Claire promised. “But first we need to be sure it really was Poppy.”

  “What about Poppy?” Charlie appeared in the doorway. He yawned. “Pour some tea for me, too, Claire.”

  Justin hoped his brother hadn’t heard him speak about the goat shed. He gave Claire a warning glance as she handed tea in a china cup to Charlie.

  Charlie helped himself to cream and took a sip. “So?” he asked. “What about Poppy?”

  “I was telling Justin how sorry I feel for the poor girl. She’s never had a decent dress in her life, I swear,” Claire answered.

  “Hmm. Probably not.” Charlie seemed to lose interest. “Justin, after school today, Father wants you to come down to the store. He thinks you need to learn more about the business, and there’s some book work and tagging that needs to be done.”

  Justin raised his eyebrows. “You mean he wants me to do something besides sweeping and cleaning?”

  “Yes, you’ve been promoted,” Charlie replied. “You were so upset last night, storming out of here, that he felt unhappy for you.”

  “Oh, Charlie,” Claire said as she poured the eggs into the pan. “Father realizes that Justin is old enough to start taking on responsibilities at the store, same as you.” She nodded to the ham leg that lay in another pan on the stove. “Slice up some of that ham for us, Charlie. You’re not exempt from helping out around here, you know.”

  “Claire, the perfect parson’s wife,” Charlie said with a smirk. He found a sharp knife and cut ham slices. “So get down to the store after school, Justin.”

  “All right, I will.” Justin was certain he didn’t want Charlie as his boss. But at least Father had noticed that Justin wanted to be included in the family business, too.

  I’ll show Father and Charlie that I can handle just about anything in that store!

  Father and Mother came into the kitchen just as someone knocked on the back door.

  Justin could see the top of his friend Randy’s slicked-down brown hair. “It’s Randy from up the road,” he said as he got up to open the door.

  “What’s he doing here so early?” Mother asked. “And you’ve all had your breakfast already. What’s going on?”

  Justin opened the door and laughed out loud. “Look what Randy’s got for you, Claire!”

  Curled up in Randy’s arms was the tiny, fluffy black kitten. Justin bent closer to look and could hear the kitten purring softly.

  “Oh, my darling little kitty!” Claire whispered as she gathered the kitten into her arms. “Look at her beautiful amber eyes. Isn’t she sweet?”

  “There’s nothing as lovable as a kitten,” Mother agreed. “But she’s so little. Is it all right to take her from her mother so soon?”

  “She’ll be fine,” Randy said. “She does suck on my finger sometimes, but Mother says she’ll get over that habit soon.”

  “What will you name her?” Father asked Claire.

  The kitten began to mew and knead with her little claws. “I’ll name her Mew,” Claire said. “My little Mew.” She held the kitten up and then kissed her nose. “I know what I’ll do—I’ll keep you inside my pocket, where you’ll feel warm and loved.” Claire put the kitten into her apron pocket. “She’ll stay safe and warm and close to my heart. Thank you, Randy.”

  Mother chuckled. “She’ll be loved, that’s for certain.”

  “She’ll grow to be the church cat that will take care of all the poor church mice,” Father said, laughing.

  The kitten mewed and wiggled until Claire stuck her finger down into the pocket. The kitten became silent. “She’s nursing on my finger!” Claire said softly.

  “Well, are you ready for school, even though it’s early?” Randy asked Justin.

  “Let’s go,” Justin said, slipping into his pea jacket. “I’ll see you at the store after school, Father.”

  “No, I’m staying home today. I’m letting Charlie take over the shop.”

  “Oh, I thought you’d be there, too.” Justin couldn’t help showing his disappointment.

  “It’ll be a test for him to see how he handles being the new manager.” Father winked at Charlie, and Charlie gave everyone a broad grin. Obviously, Charlie had already known Father had given him the new title.

  “Charlie’s the new … manager?” Justin’s throat tightened and he could hardly get the words out.

  “Yes, he’ll be your boss today.” Father must have noticed Justin’s face fall. “Don’t worry, son,” Father said quickly. “Charlie won’t be a harsh taskmaster.”

  Justin shot an angry glance at his brother as he went outside with Randy, slamming the door behind him.

  “Nobody is going to be my taskmaster,” Justin muttered. “Especially Charlie.”

  TUESDAY MORNING,

  OCTOBER 3, 1871

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  - Poppy’s Dilemma -

  Ma Brennan didn’t waste a minute. “I’m givin’ ya till Friday to get a key to the Butterworths’ jewelry store. Before the time is up, I want that key in my hand … or else. You know what will happen.”

  Poppy nodded.

  “Once we’re inside the store, Mr. Plant’s cracksmen will know what to do with the safe. They’ll either break it or
take it.” Ma laughed. “That’s good! How big is the safe?”

  “I don’t know anything about the safe. You said all I need to do is get you a key. So don’t ask me about the safe.”

  “No back talk, missy. Or you’ll get another smack across the face.”

  Poppy sighed. “If you slap me again, the family will know who did it. They know you’re the one who’s … bringing me up.”

  “Well, ain’t that too bad. Poor, poor little Poppy.” Ma put her face close to Poppy’s. “That’s all the more reason for them to feel sorry for ya. You’ll be so pathetic, they’ll take ya right under their wing.” Ma straightened Poppy’s dress. “Looks like they already have. They gave ya this nice dress, didn’t they? And ya spent the night there, too. Why, you’re practically a member of the family!”

  “I wish I were,” Poppy mumbled.

  “Go!” Ma shoved her. “Go up there and do what ya have to do … or that little goat—”

  Poppy felt sick again, as if her stomach were about to upchuck her breakfast. “I said I’d do it!” she interrupted bitterly.

  “There’s my good girl. I’m the only family ya have. I’ve taken good care of ya ever since you were a babe.” Ma gave Poppy a quick hug. “Now, off ya go to win over those Butterworths. Just be your sweet little self like I showed ya.”

  Poppy walked away and up the street toward Justin’s house. Her legs didn’t want to go that way. They wanted to run in another direction.

  Why didn’t I tell Ma I already had an impression of the key? Then it would be all over with. I’d never have to see Justin or Claire … or Ticktock again.

  She thought of Ticktock, her wiggly tail, and how she’d cuddled next to Poppy the night before. Oh, I’d just as soon die than have anything happen to Ticktock.

  Poppy thought about Claire and how she had held Poppy in her arms while Poppy had sobbed and cried. No one had ever held her like that.

  Strange, come to think of it. She usually didn’t think about anyone else’s broken heart. But now Poppy understood how disappointed Claire would be if she knew Poppy had betrayed the family.

  And if anything happened to Ticktock, Justin’s heart would be broken, too—and so would Poppy’s.

  I know for certain that Ma wouldn’t think twice about hurting that little goat. I’ll have to do what Ma said. I’ll have to give her the key.

  Ma said no one would know I had anything to do with the robbery—that I wouldn’t be stealing.

  But I’d know. And I’ll never feel right again if I help Ma steal from the Butterworths.

  TUESDAY AFTERNOON,

  OCTOBER 3, 1871

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  - The New Man in Charge -

  Justin had promised Charlie that he’d be ready to work at three o’clock. He reached Butterworth’s Jewels and Timepieces just as the clocks inside began to chime.

  Ding-Dong! The bells on the door sounded loudly as he entered, immediately followed by the tolling of the grandfather clocks. The hand-carved wooden German cuckoos and the banjo clocks all clamored at once.

  “I’m here, Charlie! Right on time!”

  “Just by the skin of your teeth!” Charlie, who had been polishing the glass, handed him a rag and a bottle of vinegar. “Here, finish wiping these countertops. They’re covered with fingerprints.” He nodded toward the office door near the back room. “When you’re finished, come see me in the workroom.”

  Justin sighed and did as he was told. Then he followed his brother to the workroom, where his father repaired watches and jewelry.

  He first had to walk through the office, where his father kept the safe and all the most valuable gems and timepieces. The large safe worked with a combination lock, and no one, except Father, knew the combination of letters that would open it. Justin often wondered if it was the name of one of the family members. Sometime, when no one was looking, he’d like to try it—just for fun.

  “Come in here, Justin.” Charlie had a large, velvet box and called him into the workroom. On the table by the window where his father repaired the jewelry were a list and a bag of tags. “You need to put price tags on all the new watch chains in this carton,” Charlie said, depositing the jewelry box on the table.

  “See this list?” Charlie continued. “There are two prices for each numbered item that you’ll match up in the box. The first price is the wholesale price. Do not put that price on the tag. You must only put the second price—the retail price—on the tag.”

  Charlie demonstrated by taking a gold chain from the box. “Here’s the number already on the tag. What does it say?” He showed it to Justin.

  “B-one-one-eight-eight,” Justin answered. This was an easy job. Why was his brother making so much over it?

  “Now look on the list. See? Here’s B-one-one-eight-eight. There are two prices, right?”

  “Charlie, I’m not stupid. I can do this.”

  “Tell me which price you’ll put on the tag for this chain, then.”

  Justin glanced at the paper and then spoke as if he were reciting from a first-grade book. “Dear me. The wholesale price is thirty-five dollars. The retail price is seventy dollars, and this is the price that I’ll put on the tag.”

  “Don’t be so flip. If you put the wholesale price on because you’re not paying attention, Father will lose money. If it’s wrong, whoever buys it will get a real bargain and Father will lose out.”

  “Very well, boss. I get it. I’ll be careful. I’ll pay attention. I’ll put the retail price on the tags. Hmm, looks like a lot of jewelry here. Should take me the rest of the day. By the way, how much will I get paid for this very difficult work?” Justin asked in a wry tone.

  Charlie rolled his eyes. “A fair wage, but only if you do it right. Pay attention. Retail versus wholesale.” He went out into the shop, leaving Justin to do his work.

  “I got it, I got it.” Charlie just loves being the manager, he thought bitterly. Justin sat down and began to work. The sun shone through the window and gave him enough light to work quickly.

  After about an hour, the late afternoon sun had dropped and the room became dusky. Justin lit a lantern and checked to see how many more tags he needed to mark. Two more pocket-watch chains and he’d be done. Hastily, Justin checked the list. One was fourteen-karat white gold and the other was sterling silver. He made out the tags and tied them onto the chains. Then he placed the jewelry in the large box and brought it out to the sales room.

  “I’m done!” he exclaimed. “Where do you want these items?”

  “They can go on display now. You know where they go.”

  Justin lit another lamp—it was dark in this part of the shop now. He put the items in display cases around the store, replacing empty spots where items had been sold.

  “I’m heading home,” he told his brother, finding him in the back room. “Are you coming?”

  “I need to lock up.”

  At that moment the bells on the front door jingled. “I’ll be in the sales room. Maybe I can sell something really expensive today and surprise Father,” Charlie said in a low voice. “Wait for me, will you?”

  Grudgingly, Justin went to the office to sit and wait.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Ogden,” Justin heard his brother greet the wife of a well-to-do Chicago banker.

  “I’m looking for a gift, Charles. It’s for my husband’s anniversary as president of the Center Bank.”

  Mrs. Ogden talks so snooty—like she’s got a hot potato in her mouth. Justin moved closer to the door so he could hear.

  “That’s quite an honor, ma’am,” Charlie answered. “My father has a beautiful chronometer that just came in from New York City.”

  “Well, Frank already has a watch.”

  “And a very nice one, I’m sure,” Charlie said. “I’m only suggesting a chronometer because it is even more elegant … and of course, your husband is a prestigious man. Let me show it to you.” Charlie went into his father’s private office. Justin followed him as he opene
d the safe.

  “How come you know the combination? Does Father trust you with it?” Justin asked with a frown.

  “Well, I’m the manager now, so Father thought I’d need it.” Charlie twisted the dial to various letters on the combination lock.

  Justin could catch the first few letters: C-R-I. Whose name started like that? He watched more closely, but Charlie turned away so he couldn’t see.

  “What are you hanging over my shoulder for? If Father wanted you to know the combination, he’d have told you.”

  “I’m just waiting for you to open the safe so I can see the chronometer,” Justin answered. “You know I love to see the good stuff in there.”

  Charlie turned the dial, opened the safe, and pulled out one of the drawers.

  Justin watched as his brother opened a black box. Inside were several gold and silver pocket watches. Charlie held one up for Justin to see. “Here it is! Look at the engraving on the cover. Father would be proud of me if I could sell this.” Charlie headed toward the sales room. “Just watch the master at work.”

  Charlie’s trusted with the combination to the safe. Charlie will end up running the store, and what will be left for me? I’ll just end up sweeping all the time or posting those stupid tags that a first grader could handle. Justin decided to pay attention to his brother’s sales pitch to Mrs. Ogden. Maybe he could learn something from listening to the conversation in the sales room.

  “First of all, notice the many shades and colors of gold on the cover,” Charlie was saying.

  “It is a beauty,” Mrs. Ogden agreed.

  “I can guarantee that neither you nor anyone in Chicago has ever seen the likes of this. Let me explain the inside.” Justin could hear a click as his brother opened the face. “This mechanism knows the number of days in each month and also accounts for leap years. When activated, the watch chimes the exact time using different tones to designate the hours, quarter hours, and minutes with a loud, clear pitch.” Charlie demonstrated the gentle chimes.