And they had plenty of comers. The main thoroughfare was alive with crowds of men, and a rare woman, mostly in their twenties, laughing, talking, cursing, gesticulating. Judging by their different languages and colorful attire, Rafe recognized the French, Irish, Italians, Australians, Chinese, Mexicans, native Californians of Spanish descent, and Blacks from the southern states.
“Talk about melting pots!” Helen commented. “I wonder how they all understand each other.”
“There’s a common language where gold is concerned.” Rafe laughed. “Listen.” Interspersed throughout all the conversations were buzzwords centered on the topic of the day — gold. Exciting words, like bonanza, Eldorado, placer, diggings, mother lode, rich vein, paydirt, big strike.
Helen nodded.
They crossed the dusty street and stopped in front of a big tent from which rich odors of food emanated. A homemade signboard in front proclaimed:
BIG JOHN’S RESTERANT Sacramento Salmon and Boiled Taters, $3 Elk Steak and Boiled Taters, $5 Fried Pork, Beans and Boiled Taters, $2 Rhubarb Pie, $10. Coffee, fifty cents.
“Well, one thing is clear,” Rafe said. “Potatoes are plentiful and pie is scarce.”
“There’s another thing clear here, too,” Helen added, biting her bottom lip worriedly. “Food is very expensive. Do you have any money?”
He pulled a wallet out of his back pocket. “Back at the landing site, Ignacio picked through my stuff but only kept the loose change. Credits cards and paper money are worthless here.”
“What are we going to do?” Helen groaned. “I was so worried about our getting free of those bandits that it never occurred to me that we have no way of surviving in these times.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I can work as hard as any man to earn money. I could even open a law practice.” Ignoring her scoffing look, he went on, “But our immediate problem is food and lodging for the night. Tomorrow we can investigate the work situation.”
“Maybe we could borrow some money.”
It was his turn to scoff. “Honey, I’ve seen the looks of disdain and the remarks about worthless greasers. No one’s gonna lend me peanuts. And, unless you’re willing to turn tricks, I suspect you’re in the same boat.”
Helen blushed prettily. He liked that about her.
“Well, Mr. Know-It-All, what do you suggest?”
“Follow me,” he said, heading inside the open-sided, unfloored tent where a mammoth Scotsman with a bald head and ginger-colored beard stood behind a counter. Several long plank tables and rough benches filled the entire space where the dining prospectors stopped eating and stared bug-eyed at the sight of a new woman in town, especially one in pants. The first thing Rafe planned to do when he got some cash was buy Helen a dress.
Slipping a thin gold chain and crucifix out of his boot, he reluctantly plunked them on the counter. He hated to part with the only piece of jewelry he ever wore, a high school graduation gift from his mother. At the time, when their only income had come from her housecleaning jobs, the extravagance had probably represented two weeks of scrubbing other people’s toilets. Well, he had no choice. “How much will you give me for this?” he inquired of Big John, who was busy ogling Helen, like every other man within a mile radius.
“Huh?” the burly restaurateur said, looking down for the first time at the glimmering item on his counter.
Helen picked up the chain and frowned. “How come Ignacio took everything I had, and he didn’t take this?”
“I always stick it in my shoe before a jump.”
“Oh, Rafe, you can’t sell this,” Helen cried when she turned it over, reading aloud the inscription on the back, TO RAFAEL, HAPPY GRADUATION, MAMA. Placing it back on the counter, she said, “It’s an important memento.”
“You can’t eat mementoes,” he pointed out, seconded by his stomach rumbling.
Meanwhile, Big John picked up the cross, examined it closely, tested the gold content with his teeth, then offered, “Two pork-and-beans dinners, and five dollars in gold dust.”
“Two salmon dinners, coffee, two rhubarb pies — whatever the hell rhubarb is — and twenty dollars in gold dust,” Rafe countered, seeing the two-foot, freshly baked fish lying on a plank table behind the owner.