Eugenia's Embrace

"Why?"

"The authorities are paid by Mr. Heinmarch. You couldn't get them to do anything about him. Too bad, but true."

"Maybe someday we can do something to get him," Eugenia said stubbornly.

"Someday," Kiyomasu said softly.

"Kiyomasu, how did you come to speak English so good if you're from Japan?"

"Mr. Heinmarch made me take lessons as soon as he took me in."

Eugenia threw her head back and laughed loudly. "My God! That man has a thing about

wanting everybody around him to speak perfect English. He did the same to me. You should have heard the way I spoke when I arrived in Cripple Creek."

"I still speak Japanese. When I get angry," he grumbled.

"No kidding! So do I," Eugenia blurted. Then laughed. "I mean, I speak my old way when I get angry." She laughed once again. "Not Japanese."

"I think we have plenty fun together, Miss Genia," Kiyomasu said, smiling widely up at her, making his eyes more squinted at the corners.

"Me, too," Eugenia said, then stopped and looked upward at the white, two-storied house they were now standing in front of. On the front she read, "The Old Homestead Parlour." Whether she wanted to believe it or not, she had just stepped in front of her new home. She had to wonder, though, for how long. It seemed as though things were meant to keep changing for her. She was fast getting educated to the ways of life.

"We're here," she said, eyeing Kiyomasu. She could see that he was frowning. She didn't know if it was because of his sister who had died in this house, or because of the type of house it was that he was going to be working in. But no matter, they both were doomed to live there.

"Can I ask you one thing before I knock on the door, Kiyomasu?" she asked.

"Sure," Kiyomasu answered cheerfully, his frown having been replaced by his usual smile. Eugenia had to think that he had just reconciled himself to the fact, also, that this was to be his home, that he had no other choice.

"Can I call you Key, short for Kiyomasu, and for the key you rescued me with? I get my tongue twisted sometimes when I start to say your full name. What do you say? Is that all right?"

Kiyomasu laughed loudly. "Yes, Miss Genia. From here on out, I'll tell everyone my name is Key."

"And another thing," Eugenia said further. "Will you please drop that miss before my name? I don't mind you calling me Genia, but please don't call me miss."

"Sure thing Miss… I mean Genia."

Eugenia lifted her skirt into her arms and made her ascent up the stairs and knocked on the door, remembering that first day that she had done so. But she had to push those thoughts from her mind. She could hear loud laughter surfacing from inside the house and an occasional peal of music. It sounded cheerful enough. She looked toward the windows. From behind the lacy white curtains she could see outlines of men and women against the lighted windows of the room. She had never known how these places worked, but she knew that she was going to be finding out, and soon.

The door opened, and Eugenia found herself face to face with the young girl who had walked in on her bath that one morning before she had been drugged by Madam Valerie. Eugenia continued to stare in silence, but realized the girl didn't recognize her. She was glad for this. She didn't want to be associated with the past doings in this house.

"Is Dawn… I mean Madam Dawn here?" Eugenia asked softly. She could see this girl's eyes studying first herself then Key standing next to her. She knew that they had to make quite a pair.

"Sure. Come on in," the girl said frivolously.

When Eugenia walked into the bright lighting of the foyer, she smiled to herself knowingly at the attire of this girl, and the way her face was made up so boldly. Yes, she was back in the other part of Cripple Creek. She hadn't seen anyone look like this since she had left Myers Avenue those many months ago. On Bennett Avenue only the refined ladies made themselves known, by the scarcity of makeup on their faces, and less revealing dresses. This dress on the girl standing before her held nothing to the imagination. A dress of red, to match the surrounding rooms. Rooms with red velveteen draperies, carpeting, and furniture, making everything seem brighter, more noticeable. The chandelier hanging down overhead—itself more beautiful than any girl in the room—sparkled and twinkled back at Eugenia.

"Come with me," the girl said, heading toward the staircase that Eugenia also remembered well.

She followed the girl, looking back to make sure Key was following her. She smiled when she saw his perplexed expression. But she knew that she would make his presence here a happy one. Dawn had said that Eugenia would take charge, that Dawn herself was too ill to handle much of the business side of the parlor any longer. She waited breathlessly as the girl tapped lightly on a closed door. Then her heart began to melt when she heard the softness of the voice from the other side of the door.

"Who is it?" the voice asked.

"It's Alison," the girl said, also softly. "You have two strange looking visitors to see you."

Eugenia's eyebrows tilted at that remark, but she set her lips firmly and waited.

"Who are they?" Dawn asked, not opening the door.