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Page 19.

Chapter 7. Los Angeles—Mid-Autumn 1892

John and Lizzie sat side by side in second class on a drizzly October day. Kate sat opposite them, dark and cold, her gaze out the window.

Beautiful wide-open American countryside rolled endlessly by outside. Rain and mud slowly gave way to the wide open skies and rolling prairies of the Midwest. Lizzie clung to John like a school girl.

Kate kept driving her plan home, one small piece at a time that Lizzie could digest: “Lizzie, this man Spreckels is a very bad man. He mashed a girl named Charlotte Barnard, and ruined her career in San Francisco.”

Lizzie said: “Yes?” She had her hands folded between her knees.

Kate said: “You’re not going to think about him. He’ll get what he deserves. He has millions of dollars, and won’t miss a few thousand.”

Lizzie said: “That much!”

Kate said: “I have a great plan, but you won’t really need to do anything much. I’ll show you how to behave. You just pretend to be Charlotte Barnard—or actually, Lottie Bernard. Mr. Spreckels will be hundreds of miles away in San Francisco. You’ll be down in San Diego. You’ll never see him. He’ll quickly decide the best thing is to pay up and we’ll leave town within a day or two. I’ve seen it work before.”

Lizzie said: “You’ve done this before?”

Kate caught herself, and said with a veiled look: “I knew someone who was good at it, and I learned a few tricks from her.”

Lizzie said: “And you’ll teach me? I’m bright enough—just a little slow at learning. I make up for it in looks and style.” John rolled his eyes, laughing kindly.

Kate said: “I’ll teach you how to impersonate a maid. That’s simple, right? All you do is keep your beautiful face shut, and dust. Got that?”

Lizzie made dusting motions. “Just keep dusting, huh? I think I can do that.” She giggled.

Kate said: “You speak only when spoken to, and say as little as possible. Avoid small talk with the other girls. Keep to yourself. It will all be over in a few weeks, and then you’ll have a lot of money.”

Lizzie said: “I’ll try my very best.”

Kate took Lizzie’s hands in both of her hands and said: “No, Lizzie, ‘try’ is not good enough. You have to be determined that it’s going to work. It’s like I told John—you have to be a hundred percent or it won’t work right.”

Lizzie said: “I promise. I’ll give it a hundred percent.” She held one of Kate’s hands, and one of John’s in her other hand. She looked radiantly happy in that union of love and friendship. Her lover and her friend both let her be like that for a happy minute or two. Then Kate got back to business. Kate said: “I made up a name for you. I’m going to call you Katie Logan. Can you remember that?”

Lizzie said: “Sure, that’s easy.”

Kate said: “I like your confidence. Now start thinking that you’re Katie Logan in your head. Get used to the name. I made it easy for you to remember. I used my first name, Kate, and a family name that’s close to mine, Logan instead of Morgan.”

John, Kate, and Lizzie arrived on the West Coast on a sunny, balmy day in early November 1892. As they walked through the Los Angeles train station, Kate said: “Lizzie, I’m sending your trunks on to San Diego. Here are the three baggage claim checks.” She offered three pieces of paper, but Lizzie said: “I’m afraid I might lose them.”

Kate said: “Here, John, you hold them for her.”

John said: “Sure—for my sweetheart, anything.” He put the tickets in his wallet. He took out the silver earrings. “See? I still have them. Holding them for my sweetheart, and I swear I always will.”

Lizzie tugged bravely at her earlobes, which were closing up.

Kate said: “Lizzie, you sure you won’t lose your nerve? You can’t come running to me or John. You have to stay on the job and not get fired.”

Lizzie said: “I’ve been a hard-working girl for years. I know how to keep my nose to the grindstone. “

Kate said: “Great. Well, then, let’s go find a hotel. You two lovers should spend at least one night together before our adventure starts. I’ll see you in the morning, Lizzie.”

In a darkened hotel room, John and Lizzie made love, and then lay together in sweaty lethargy. John said: “That Kate is a thinker, huh?”

Lizzie said: “She’ll save me from ruination. You and I will have a lot of money to make a new life together.” She touched his nose, trying to push home her point. He always became evasive about staying with her. It made her uneasy deep down, but she always pushed the thought away. If he did not love her, then she was ruined for sure. It was to scary to be possible.

He sensed her feelings and said: “Don’t worry so much. Don’t think too far ahead. Just think about how you’re going to manage this impersonation thing in the next couple of weeks.”

Lizzie sighed and lay back in a blind rush of desperation and hope. She had no choice but to trust John and this kind stranger, Kate Morgan.

John put his arm around her. Comforted, she said: “Katie Logan, Katie Logan, Katie Logan...” She laughed. “See? I have it down pat.”

John mumbled a reassurance, gave her a gentle shake, and started snoring. She turned over and spooned her back against his front. His warmth made her drowsy and pushed her worries away as she drifted off.

In the early morning, Lizzie and Kate stood near a wealthy home. Kate handed Lizzie an envelope. “Here is a letter of recommendation I got my Uncle Will Farmer to write for me. He’s an important grower in Hanford and Visalia. I’ve changed the name on the letter to Katie Logan for you.” She added: “Your employer is Mrs. R. M Widney. I’ll send my own trunk along for storage. Pretend it’s yours, since your three trunks will be at the baggage depot in San Diego.”

Lizzie said: “I promise I will do very well. I like how you’ve planned everything out to the last detail.”

Kate said: “Where are your glasses?”

Lizzie stared at her—then, reluctantly, produced a pair of wire-rimmed glasses from her purse.

Kate said: “Be sure you have them so you’re not blind as a bat and mix things up.” She fluffed Lizzie’s clothing. “Make sure you look presentable. But then you’re a clothes horse. Be brave. Just keep your mouth shut and keep dusting. They don’t expect conversation or entertainment from you. For all they care, a domestic is just another piece of furniture. In some homes, husband and wife have their most private arguments right in front of you, as if you were an ottoman or a sofa.”

Lizzie laughed and said: “This will be an adventure.”

Kate said: “You’ll get used to being someone other than you, and in a few weeks you’ll be ready for your dramatic stage entrance in Coronado.”

Lizzie said: “I love acting and actresses.”

Kate said: “I know you do. But honey, for God’s sake, these will be roles without speaking parts.” She gave Lizzie a brief hug. “Good luck!” With that, she walked away.