Home Sweet HomeTake a peek
It was beyond belief. A simple phone call had changed her life. No more getting up at four or long walks through the early chill, the winter rains. Hard work still remained, but this blessed sense of reprieve she felt, as though from some dark level of existence, had given her hope for the future. Each morning she'd leap from bed, eager for the new day. She hadn't spent mornings at home since Maddie was a baby. Now she could fuss like a real mother, pack her lunch and send her off to school with a good-bye kiss. After that she'd pitch in to help with the house. Then it was up to bathe and dress and down again to catch the Alberta streetcar by ten o'clock.
She loved to discover the marvels of the city as they unfolded before her, the passing neighborhoods, the shops, and the crowds of people.
Approaching the Willamette River, she would anticipate the view as they clattered across the Steel Bridge. All those buildings, some on the tall side, others of varying height, made her think of a large family reunion.
No mistaking the father; the American Bank Building stood out - in command. No mistaking Mother either; the Meier & Frank department store had her feet planted in solid commercial efficiency, her top-knot of a sign declaring who she was.
To the west a backdrop of tree-covered hills were sprinkled with prosperous homes where the well-to-do lived. Rich cousins to the downtown family no doubt but none she'd be likely to know, no, not hardly.
She kept busy turning from side to side so as not to miss anything. To the north a brick clock tower stood guard over a sprawling train depot against the west end of the Broadway Bridge. Between the depot and the Willamette River a network of tracks ran next to the docks where freighters tied up.
Every morning she'd crane her neck hoping to catch a glimpse of some adventure in progress. Occasionally a passenger train could be seen chugging into the station or a freighter taking on grain or lumber and she'd try to guess where they were headed. Visions of pictures she had seen tripped through her mind; New York, Chicago, China, faraway, romantic sounding places. Not that she would ever be going there, but it was good to know the possibility existed.
Having never worked downtown before, the heart of the city gave her a new sensation. Whenever she stepped from the streetcar into the rush she felt a tingle of excitement to be a part of it, everyone with a destination in mind. Even the traffic pulled her in; trucks competing with streetcars, autos, Western Union boys weaving about on bicycles, horns honking, stop-and-go signals clanging.
But while making her way to the hotel her thoughts often turned to the less obvious. No soup lines or hungry faces here. Those were confined to the skid row district near the waterfront. Here people had jobs, collected paychecks, spent money. Picture shows thrived. Hotels and restaurants were busy with customers, the Heathman proof of that.
Whenever she followed a man onto the streetcar, there often were holes in the soles of his shoes, and if she looked closely, freshly pressed suits had worn pant cuffs. Shirts were well starched to hide frayed collars and cuffs, but to balance the picture there were enough executives around in expensive suits to reinforce the business-as-usual look.
As for women, you could tell them apart by the clothes they wore. Working girls wore whatever they had that looked presentable, while the well-heeled changed outfits with the latest fashion. Housewives seemed a breed apart, for the most part hovering between dowdy and despair. They went about in carbon copies of worn shoes, thin coats, a shabby excuse of a hat, and invariably carried a shopping bag, the almost always empty but forever hopeful shopping bag. She watched the men and women with their forced smiles and desperate eyes and often found herself close to tears.
After this introduction to Ruth, you can get acquainted with the other characters or pay a visit to the bookstore.