Siren's Song by D.L. Snow

Author:D.L. Snow [Snow, D.L.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-09-26T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Before I could ask any more questions, the back door opened and out came E.P. Grady followed closely by Cap’n.

“Here she is, like I told you.”

Cap’n extended his hand. “Come along Miss Jo-Jo. Mrs. Sullivan is fit to be tied.”

I reluctantly followed Cap’n back down the street to the Powder Horn, my mind wholly occupied by the words of John Black Plume. A traveler must find her own way. It is between the traveler and the Creator. What the hell did he mean?

It was late that night while I laid in bed up in my own room at the Powder Horn that something dawned on me. What if I was going about this all wrong? What if I wasn’t supposed to go back yet? What if I was there for a reason, to accomplish something? Maybe this place was purgatory and I was sent here to atone for my sins. The idea was no more bizarre than the notion of returning to the past. And if that was the case, the only way I would be able to leave was if I figured out what I was doing here.

As far as I could figure, there had to be a reason for me to be here and I was positive whatever that reasons was, it had something to do with Morgan Hawes.

*****

For the next two weeks I threw myself whole-heartedly into rehearsals and learning the music of the time followed by long nights entertaining at the Powder Horn. Every night I looked for Morgan Hawes and every night I saw him, sitting in the back of the room playing faro with the other men. I would often look up to find him watching me. But, he never approached me and I never ran into him, not at the opera hall and not on the street.

It was a Friday night, a few weeks after my debut, and Kitty let me sing a few songs at the old piano in the bar. My repertoire of popular music of the time was growing – not that I enjoyed playing, they were simple songs with uninspired melodies – when someone burst into the room shouting, “FIRE!”

Everyone jumped up from their tables. Chairs fell over backwards, tables tipped, poker chips went flying and drinks were left undrunk. I watched the melee with ignorant fascination, but I quickly understood the harried response. This was 1899. Most of the structures were made of wood. We were surrounded by trees and there were limited sources of water. A fire could very well destroy the whole town.

Forgetting all the warnings Kitty had issued about me leaving the premises on my own, I rushed out the door with everyone else, doing my best to keep up with the throng of people moving toward the billowing smoke at the north end of town. What had seemed like a mass of confusion quickly turned into organized chaos as shouts and bells sounded, clearing the way for two horse-drawn fire engines to come barreling through.

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