The Harvey Girl - Part 6

May 29, 2024

Quick Recap: Willa Abbot found a treasure map in her father’s secret second home and perhaps a faithful ally in Pinkerton agent Fin Morgan, but she’s got to get back inside the Harvey House without notice. It’s after curfew. She’ll lose the funds needed to find her father if she loses her job.

LINKS: New? Start Here, Last Part (5), Harvey Girl Page

Short on time? Scan the story and just read the bold parts. You’ll get the gist and come back later to read the whole thing!

“It’s indecent!”

Looking up at the second-floor window to my Harvey House dorm room, I rejected Fin Morgan’s suggestion. He wanted to hoist me up so I could crawl through without anyone noticing.

“You already climbed in one window tonight,” Fin reminded me. “I see no difference. Your reasoning is not immediately obvious, Willa.”

The moon shone down on us, lighting the train platform enough so we wouldn’t fall off and onto the train tracks. Not that it would put us in danger. No trains would come through at this late hour. I glanced up at my window, knowing it wasn’t locked but having no wish for Fin Morgan to manhandle me with a boost to reach the ledge.

“We climbed into a window on the main floor,” I pointed out. “I’d thank you not to recall the adventure. We should not speak of it again.”

He nodded, crossing a finger over his heart. I could feel his smirk but didn’t see it. A cloud briefly blocked the moon.

“How will you get inside without notice?” he asked.

“I won’t.” With a little huff of derision, I marched back toward the street and headed for the street-side entrance to the Harvey House—the employee entrance.

“Nice knowing ya, Miss Willa Abbot.” Fin stopped walking and waited next to the street.

I had plenty to say to the Pinkerton Man, as he’d done me a service. Yet, he’d teased me one too many times. My mouth stayed shut since I didn’t have a kind word to say. Besides, I had far harsher thoughts for myself. I had gotten myself into a pickle, as Fin had claimed, but adding another pickle to my plate made no sense. Tucking the rolled-up map into my skirt—no sense having to explain that, too—I opened the Harvey House door and hoped for the best.

Not that I didn’t take care, mind you. My footsteps were as soft as a kitten, with a prayer to the Guardian Angel of Sneaky Sneaks that the floorboards would be quiet. I also added a wish that any sound I created was lost in the snoring. Believe me, ladies snore. Not that I’d ever tell a Harvey Girl she snored like a lumberjack! I’d keep that to myself.

Halfway down the hallway, thinking the angels were cushioning every step I took, my luck ran out. The creak reverberated in the hallway louder than fingers on a blackboard. The door at the top of the stairs—the dorm mother’s door—instantly opened.

I spun around, caught sneaking back to my room.

Plato believed that necessity was the mother of invention, and somewhere along the way, it became a Proverb. That Proverb popped into my panicking brain. With nary a heartbeat, I rubbed my eyes and gawked at Mrs. Agnes Q. Downs.

“Am I late or early?” I asked as if my voice had been dipped in slumber.

“It’s the middle of the night, young lady.” The matron frowned. “Why are you dressed?”

I let my eyes flutter at half-mast. “Oh, good,” I mumbled. “Haven’t missed my train.”

Mrs. Downs came right up to me and poked me in the arm.

Swaying away from her, I sighed and shut my eyes, head drooping forward. I stopped short of snoring, but I sucked in a ragged breath, sighing again. She’d either think I was drunk—not my intention—or sleepwalking.

Mrs. Downs took me gently by the shoulders and turned me around. “There, there, girlie. No train today. Just back to bed with you.”

With more care than I’d ever expect from the she-bear, she guided me back to my bed. At her whispered suggestion, I sat, and she coaxed me to lie down. I almost giggled with glee. Muttering a curse, Mrs. Downs pulled a comforter over me, letting me stay in my street clothes.

“Of all the worrisome nonsense,” she said, heading back into the hall.

I was of half a mind to blow her a kiss. Who knew she was an old softie?

Peeking over the comforter, I could see my door was shut, and my only companion was a guilty conscience. With a tug at my waistband, I pulled the treasure map out of my skirt. It had a new crease. Drats and rats! It couldn’t be helped, so I slid it under the mattress, hoping it would also press out the damage. Then, I plopped back on the bed, exhausted.

The morning sun woke me before Mrs. Downs got a chance. I sat up, startled by a murky dream and momentarily confused about why I was dressed. It took a second to remember my charade. A flush heated my cheeks. It wasn’t my nature to play-act in such a way, but I had to do it for Mother. I couldn’t go back to her just yet, not without more information.

I laid down again, wondering how much I’d have to apologize for never mentioning I was a sleepwalker. “It rarely happens,” I practiced the lie. Oh my, the Harvey House matron would undoubtedly take me to task.

I moaned and covered my face with both hands. A sinking feeling settled in my stomach. I’d be telling a library full of lies before this adventure ended. Luckily, life in the Harvey House didn’t allow time for regrets.

A knock and a gruff “You awake?” came from the other side of my door. It must have been my wake-up call and not from Mrs. Downs. The unfriendly voice sounded like my mentor, Shirley. I grunted in the affirmative, and before I knew it, I was in my perfectly crisp uniform, waiting with the other Harvey Girls as the first train arrived at the station.

During one of our breaks between trains—we had three throughout the day—I rushed back to my room. Mrs. Downs caught my eye as I left the dining room. She gave me a little nod, checking up on me, I guessed. I stopped for a quick curtsey—something a city girl would never do, not any in my acquaintance—but Mrs. Downs rewarded me with a thin smile. It stretched her lips to the breaking point.

She’d taken last night’s disturbance well. I imagined that the first time would be forgotten, but a second would be Hell. I vowed to plan my re-entry plans as much as my exit plans should the need arise again.

Slipping into my room, I pulled out the map and studied the terrain. Short of traveling to the two marked spots, I desperately hoped to find another option. Any little clue that would lead me to my father.

My bedroom door banged open, and I gasped, unable to hide the treasure map.

A girl about my age entered, face red, hair wild, and arms full of luggage. She dropped the bags on the floor. “Oh, excuse me, I must have startled you!” The girl put a hand to her blonde bun, tucking in one of the loose strands. “I’m your new roommate. Call me Dolores, no call me Dori, and please explain why everyone here is so cross. It hardly bodes well. I have no idea what I’ve gotten myself into, although I’m quite intrigued by your treasure map.”

She walked over, tapping a finger on her lips.

“It’s just a map,” I said, wondering how I’d get out of this one.

“If you say so,” Dori said, “you might be mistaken. See this little mark?” Leaning forward, she taps a spot on the bottom left corner of the map. “It’s a cartographer’s mark. Sort of a secret, but not so secret symbol.”

Scrunching up my nose to see it better, I acknowledged the symbol. It looked like an ornamental design. Something mapmakers add to show off their artistic talents. Could it actually mean more?

“Oh my, oh my,” Dori muttered. “This is much more than a treasure map. It’s THE treasure map!”

She playfully punched me in the arm, like we were the oldest friends. However, two things were running through my mind: Who is this girl, and how do I get rid of her?