THE FIRST DRINK

Scamp straightened up and looked at herself in the mirror. Could she pass as a boy? A young man? She brought her fingers through her short hair. She was slender which was good. Any feminine curves she might have were concealed beneath her shirt and corduroys. Pa had insisted she bring a dress, her only one, so she had scrunched it into a ball and left it at the bottom of her bag. Could she get away with it?

She had always wanted to see the inside of a saloon. As always, forbidden fruit was the sweetest. It angered her that men were allowed to go into bars and drink whereas women were excluded. The hypocrisy of it rankled her. The nerve of it! Women were just as good, worked just as hard, and yet it was always, always double standards. She had seen the saloon girls strut around Virginia City and occasionally approached them.

"What's it like working in a bar?"

The last time had been a tall redhead a few months ago.

"Boring."

"What d'ya mean, boring? How can it be boring?"

"It's a job." She had befriended the girl when a drinker had followed her out of the saloon. The man had been shaking her and looked as though he might strike so Scamp had begun running toward them and shouting.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" she cried.

The drunk looked her up and down, uncertain of her sex. Her clothes and appearance gave her a boyish look but she was more than half a foot shorter than him.

"Mind your business, pipsqueak!"

"This is my business." Scamp placed herself in front of the girl. With her high heels she was taller than Scamp. "Yeah? You wanna? Wanna shoot, do ya? I'll fight yer and I'll yell so loud I'll have a whole posse of people and sheriffs and deputies. Want me to start hollering?"

She turned towards the street and opened her mouth. She knew her brothers were not fifty yards away near the Mercantile. The man swore very loudly, clenched his fists and marched back inside.

The adrenaline ended abruptly and the fear took over. She tried her best not to allow her trembling to show. It was one thing arguing and fighting with her brothers from whom the very worst she could expect was a swipe across the head or legs and another tackling an armed drunk outside a bar.

"Gee, thanks, mister," said the girl. She frowned and looked at Scamp more closely. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"You sure don't look eighteen."

Scamp ducked her head. "How long you worked in there?"

"A few months."

"And that...that oaf. He giving you a hard time?"

"He wanted to see me after. I didn't."

"What's it like working in there?"

"Boring."

"What d'ya mean, boring? How can it be boring?"

"Listen, you're a nice kid. But you do look awful young."

"Well..." Scamp cheerfully pushed up the brim of her hat with her thumb. "I'm sure it can't be boring."

"It's a job. Like any other. Anyway. Thanks again."

"Will you be OK?"

"Yeah, I'll have a word with Lee, he'll look out for me. He's the bartender. He's got a nifty bat behind the bar. C'ya, honey."

She winked at her and walked back in. Scamp went back to the buckboard where her brothers were loading large sacks.

"C'mon, work-shy," said Joe. "Pull your weight."

"That gal over there thought I was a guy."

"Oh, that's nice for you," said Adam. "Help me with this sack."

"Funny-looking guy," Hoss teased. "Kinda short and looks like a girl."

"Maybe she needs glasses," said Joe.

"Oh, ha-ha, very funny. Well, she thought I was one, anyway."

"Well, I'm sure it made your day, daughter, but we have work to do. In you go."

It was on the way back that her curiosity got the better of her. She wanted to go into a saloon and have a drink. Her father would slaughter her if he knew of her plans and Adam and Hoss would stop her, might even rat on her. Joe? She did not know. She looked at him sideways as he joked with Hoss. She would not be able to do it in Virginia City, she was too well-known.

And now, three months later, here they were in Sacramento, for the marriage of their good friend, John Paynton. Pa had known him when he had first come to Nevada. Although John had traveled on to California they had stayed in touch. Her menfolk had gone out and she had said she felt tired and wanted to rest. Joe had given her an odd look but they were gone. She felt slightly guilty for deceiving them but she reasoned with herself she was doing no harm. She was only going to have a drink in a saloon.

Making her appearance as manly as possible she exited the hotel and walked down the street. The town stretched down to the Sacramento River where it joined with the American River. It had a raw, ramshackle feeling, hastily cobbled together after the disasters only a few years before. Floods, a fire, an epidemic had decimated the place. It was only the presence of gold in the nearby Sierra Nevada that had brought them back. Prospectors, ne'er-do-wells, drifters. She wandered down streets that were little more than tracks. Most of the bars looked dilapidated despite being newly built. She wished Joe was with her. She was a brave soul but she was frightened. Men leered at her, others watched the small figure walking down the street, uncertain whether she was a woman or a teenage boy.

She did not know why, but she thought even Joe, as madcap and foolhardy as he was, would have drawn the line at this. Instead of the fear cowing her, she felt the frisson of electricity and excitement she had felt numerous times before when doing something so taboo. She almost laughed when she thought of what her family would do to her if they heard of this exploit. It was a nervous laugh and not a pleasant one. The pain her father would be likely to inflict on her! Even her brothers did not go out and about on their own.

The streets began to get more respectable and the bars became fewer and further between. She picked one on the corner of a narrow residential street, swallowed her fear and walked inside.

"Beer," she said, putting some money on the bar. It was a dark dingy place full of cigar smoke. But the politeness died hard in her. "Please."

"How old are you, sonny?"

"Nineteen," she said, lowering her voice.

"You sure don't look nineteen."

"Well, I am. You gonna serve me or not?"

The barkeep shrugged his shoulders. He had done his duty. She took the glass to a table and had a long swig. It was the most vile thing she had ever tasted and the tears instantly came to her eyes. How could people drink this poison? She'd have a whiskey next time. The bitter, metallic tang swamped her mouth and she closed her eyes and tipped back her head. God, it was horrible! Like an old penny.

She could feel the eyes of the few patrons on her and she returned their stare. She knew what she was doing was stupid, real stupid, but she was committed now and couldn't go back if she wanted. Besides she felt as if she needed to get it out of her system. Now she had rebelled she wouldn't have to rebel again. To prove a woman could go and have a drink in a bar and the world would not fall apart. Maybe in years to come she would laugh about it with her family. Once she was too old for her father to tan.

An old fella lurched up to her, knocking into her table. He was of an uncertain age, unkempt and dirty with a beard turned yellow with nicotine. She wrinkled her nose with disgust.

"How 'bout it, darlin'?"

Great, someone who had recognized her as a woman.

"Drop dead."

His friends laughed. "She sure told you, Charlie!"

Charlie leaned over her, belching alcohol fumes. "Not very friendly, are you?"

"No, I'm not, and if you want to know how unfriendly, carry on."

She spoke with a confidence she did not feel. Her face grew hot and her heart hammered. She was petrified but she refused to show it. The knowledge that she was responsible for this fate rankled her.

"Why, you - "

"Leave her alone."

The words rang out as clear as a bell. She had not noticed the figure in the corner. He rose and walked over. He was young, with a mop of coal-black hair, dressed poorly. He was watching Charlie intently.

"What business - "

"I'm making it my business. Now leave her alone."

"Why, you - "

Charlie was old and full of drink. The young man gave him a powerful blow to the stomach and as he doubled up, administered an upper cut that knocked him flying. Charlie crashed into a table and lay still.

"Any more of you?"

"Alright, that's it." The barkeep came out, smacking his bat in his hand. "Get out, the pack of you."

The man pulled Scamp out, almost yanking her off her feet.

"Get off me! I wanna stay!"

"You stupid little girl. I oughta slap you flat!"

"Don't you dare! Look, I appreciate what you did but I can look after myself."

"Can you? Do you realize what could've happened in there?"

"Mister, thank you. Thank you for in there. But I don't like being told what to do."

"Obviously. Where are your parents? It's obvious you're a cut above the riff-raff round these parts. You look as if you belong somewhere. Where's your family?"

She had no intention of telling him. "My mother's dead."

"And your father?"

"Around," she said vaguely.

"Around, eh? Does he know you're here?"

"Look, I'm not your responsibility. I - "

"Of course he doesn't! If you were my sister I'd wallop you so hard you wouldn't be able to walk!"

"Well, I'm not!" she cried, pulling away.

"I've rather made you my responsibility, haven't I? Look around you, girl!" He seized her collar and turned her round to face the street she had just come from. The road home. "Women have died in those streets. They've been murdered, robbed, raped. Most of the girls round here are whores. You're not a whore, are you?"

She slapped his face and he grinned.

"I can see you're not. But you're the most stupid, foolhardy girl I've ever met. Now where's your father? Where are you staying? I'm gonna see you home."

The thought of her father finding out panicked her. "I'm OK. Please. Just let me be, mister. I just wanna go home."

Tears came unbidden to her eyes. Her body turned traitor. She quickly turned away and coughed, taking the opportunity to wipe her face.

"Darlin', there's an old saying. Do you know it?"

"What's that?"

" 'You save someone's life once, you're forever responsible for that life'."

"You didn't save my life."

"I saved you from something. You see the size of that knife?"

Knife? What knife?

"You didn't even notice, did you? Girl, I'm taking you home. Even if I just follow you. What's your name?"

She wondered whether to lie. "Scamp."

"Scamp, what kinda name is that?"

"It's my name."

"I can see why. Well, lead on, Scamp. Just think yourself fortunate it was me who found yer, not someone else."

"What's your name?"

"Tom. Tom Grady."

"Irish?"

"My father was."

"How do I know you won't jump me?"

"You don't. Although if I'd been that type I'd have hammered you when you slapped my face."

"I'm sorry about that."

"You don't care about the danger you put yourself in, do you? Which way?"

She pointed and they began to walk.

She estimated him to be about thirty. Swarthy and tanned by the sun he had the look of a sailor although it would be unlikely so far inland. "Mr Grady?"

"Tom."

"Tom, just one thing."

"What?"

"Don't tell my father."

"Why? Give you a paddling, would he?"

"Probably."

"Well, you could certainly do with one."

"Look, Tom, if I promise not to do it again, will you...will you not tell my Pa?" He looked at her old-fashioned. "I always keep my promises. I swear on that."

There was a short silence. "Funnily enough I believe you. I don't know why. Go on, then."

"Go on, what?"

"Promise."

"I promise."

"Not crossing your fingers?"

She laughed. "No!"

They walked past the huts, lean-tos and shacks. Fighters, thieves, cut-throats, drunks. The place was etched in misery and poverty. She shivered inwardly.

"I still can't believe how stupid you are. And lucky. I could be anyone. It just so happens I have a couple of sisters of my own. And a mother. You could be my sister."

"I have three brothers."

"Do you now? And what would they say if they knew you were going into saloons?"

"I don't know," she said. "Well...actually I do know. Adam would probably tan my hide, Hoss'd go nuts and Joe'd laugh."

"Joe sounds as crazy as you."

"He's my twin. He's ten minutes younger than me."

"Is he now?" Tom smiled. They reached the junction she had passed half an hour before. "And how old are you really?"

She hesitated but she reckoned she owed him the truth. "Sixteen."

"Sixteen? God Almighty, you're still a child."

"That's what my Pa keeps saying. And Adam."

"Adam's got sense."

"It's just that...well, Pa's always going on at me. You're a girl, why can't you act like one? But I never wanted to be one. And I thought...Oh, I guess I was stupid. I thought, just once I wanted to go into a saloon and have a beer. Say I'd done it. D'you know what I mean?"

"And you had to pick somewhere like Sacramento."

"I couldn't do it in my own town. They all know me."

"Well, Scamp, you took an unbelievable risk. You're lucky you're not shot or sliced up. Will your family be home?"

"No, they went out for the afternoon."

"And you seriously thought I was gonna hang around until they got back so I could tell them?"

"I don't know."

"I've got better things to do with my time."

She accepted the rebuke calmly.

They walked on, leaving the riverside behind them. As they progressed, the streets became cleaner and the passers-by more reputable.

"Where do you come from, Scamp?"

"Nevada."

"Across the Sierra."

"Yes, sir."

"There's gold in thar hills."

"So they say. You're a prospector?"

"I'm nothing. I was a sailor."

She clicked her fingers. "I knew it! You...you just looked like a sailor, that's all...Why are you so far inland?"

"That I don't want to say."

"Sorry."

He looked at her companionably and finally tousled her hair. "I jumped ship."

"Wow. Why?"

"Why does anybody?" he shrugged. "I'd had enough."

"But...but what would they do if..."

"Death. Or if I was lucky, flogging."

She was appalled. "That's terrible."

"I knew the risks."

Another ten minutes and the hotel was within sight. "Here it is." She turned on the steps. "Tom, Mr Grady...Thank you."

"You'll never be such a stupid girl again, will you?"

"No, sir."

"Had your adventure?"

"Yes, sir."

"Enjoy it?"

"I...I don't know."

He laughed and stretched out his hand. "You know how lucky you were, don't you? Next time you mightn't be so lucky."

"I know. Why did you do it?"

"Because I have sisters of my own. I'd like to think if they were as doggone stupid as you somebody would be there to look after them."

"What'll you do?"

"Ah, me? I don't know. I might well head to the hills like everyone else here."

"Good luck."

"I s'll need it." He touched his hat. "Good day, Miss."

"Good day."

She watched him walk away and suddenly felt as if her heart would break. Why did she keep crying? she thought. She never cried! She felt the man's loneliness, his kindness to her, her luck, her stupidity. She went into the lobby and to her relief saw the key in the cubbyhole. They weren't back yet. Once in the bedroom she fell on her bed, crying with shame and exhaustion. The beer gurgled in her stomach and made her feel sick. She washed out her mouth. She did not want to be reeking of beer fumes when the others returned. Her father was no fool, nor were her brothers. After breathing on her hand she curled her nose. She could still smell it. If she could get some humbugs...

She dared not go out again. Unless...she remembered a small shop not quarter of a block away, just a couple of minutes. She did not think her father would mind her stepping out to get some. And if he found out she could be honest and just say she'd gone out for some candy.

Not ten minutes later she was back. She had bought quite a large bag and ate them, one after another. The sickly menthol curdled together with the beer, which now seemed to have risen to the top of her stomach and was in danger of rising further. She ate and ate until her mouth felt numb. She checked the smell again and decided she could get away with it as long as she did not breathe directly on anyone. She curled up on the bed, groaning with the nausea. My own fault, she told herself. She decided against dinner. Which was a shame because she had only ever dined out once before. Tomorrow was the wedding and there would be plenty of food there. She would have to wear her Godawful dress, but all the same.

At about five o'clock the others returned and found her asleep.

"Scamp?" said Ben, shaking her. "Scamp, dear?"

"Pa."

"Feel better?"

"Not really." Her mouth was coated and her head had started to pound. The events of the afternoon returned to her and she reddened with shame.

"Ready for dinner?"

"I don't really want anything."

"You sickening, child?" he asked, putting his hand on her brow.

"No, sir." She saw Joe with the same suspicious look on his face and scowled at him. Adam and Hoss had already gone to their room to change. "Don't fuss, Pa, I'm OK. Just a bit tired."

"Maybe it was the journey."

Joe snorted.

"Maybe," she replied.

"Well, if you want anything later, just say, won't you?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

"How long will you be, Joe?"

"Not long, Pa."

"Alright, I'll see you in the lobby."

"OK, Pa."

The boy waited until he had gone and immediately jumped on Scamp's bed. "Alright, what's really going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, c'mon, this is me you're talking to. When was the last time you swooned and took to your bed like a soft girl? Journey, my foot! You're up to something!"

"Promise not to tell?"

He look offended. "I ain't no snitch, sis."

"I went to a saloon."

Joe's eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped. "You did WHAT?!"

"I went to a saloon. And had a beer." She forgot her shame for a moment and felt quite proud. It took a lot to impress Little Joe.

"Where?"

"About twenty minutes from here."

"Even I haven't done that! Do you know what Pa'd do to you if he found out?"

"I don't want to think about that."

"He'd rip you limb from limb. He'd tear the hide off you!"

"I know, I know. Good thing he doesn't know, then, in't it?"

"You took an awful risk, Scamp!"

"I know. I don't think I'll do it again. In fact, I promised I wouldn't."

"Promised who?"

"Tom."

"Who in the heck is Tom?"

"Tom Grady. He's...he's just a guy..."

"Oh, this gets better and better! No, he wouldn't skin you. He'd lock you in a nunnery for the rest of your life."

"It's not what you think. I...well, I got into a bit of trouble in the bar."

"Oh, Lord!"

"Joe, you promised you wouldn't tell Pa."

"I won't, but, Scamp, you were so stupid!"

"I know, I've already had a lecture from Tom."

"Who is he?"

"He stood up for me in the bar."

"Who from?"

"This guy, Charlie. He came on a bit strong..."

Joe's astonishment started to turn to anger. "You know, it's a good thing you made me promise not to tell before you told me all this!"

"You said you weren't a snitch!" she cried. "And all the times I've covered for you in the past!"

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I wouldn't have told. I'd be too frightened what he'd do to you, anyway."

"You really think he'd thrash me?"

"No, I don't think that. He'd never do that. But...but...he'd definitely lock you in your room for the next twenty years." He laughed. "Or send you to a school for wayward girls or something."

"A girls' school? Ugh!"

"Do you realize what could have happened? Your own common sense sho - "

"Please, Joe, no more lectures. I've had my fill of those. I've said I wouldn't do it again and I won't. It's just...well, you wouldn't understand. There are so many things girls aren't allowed to do. We can't do this, we can't do that, we can hardly take a step out of the house without filling out a form. Boys can just stroll around, go into a bar, have a drink if they like. I just wanted to see what it was like. Just one time, do you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I know. But even I wouldn't have done it. Probably Adam or Hoss or Pa wouldn't have done it on their own." Joe shook his head. "We're gonna have to change your name. You're not a scamp, you're...a catastrophe, a disaster waiting to happen. You were lucky to meet this Tom guy."

"Yeah, he was sweet."

"Who was he?"

"A sailor."

"A sailor? In Sacramento?"

"He jumped ship."

Joe rolled his eyes and began to laugh heartily. "Unbelievable."

"But he was a nice guy. He said...well, he said he had sisters – and he'd like to think that if ever they got into trouble someone'd help them out. He was sweet, Joe."

"Per-lease. We'll be hearing wedding bells next."

She punched him. "Little Joe, he's twice my age. It wasn't like that. And you know very well I shall never marry."

"I'm just as well pleased. I wouldn't wish you on my worst enemy," Joe murmured, rubbing his shoulder. "And you promised this fella you wouldn't be sloping off to any more bars?"

"Yes."

"You'll promise me the same thing?"

"I don't need to promise twice."

"Look, he's a stranger, I'm your brother. Normally I'd say you wouldn't need to promise twice but in this case...It was suicidal, Marie. Lord knows what could have happened. So I want you to promise me too."

"You've never called me Marie before."

"I have."

"Only when you're joshing."

"Well, I'm not joshing now. Promise."

"Alright! I promise."

"So what was it like?"

"Scary."

"I bet. And you had a beer?"

"Yeah."

"What was that like?"

"Gross."

He chortled conspiratorily. "How many did you have?"

"One. I was gonna have a whiskey too but this guy came up and started making a nuisance of himself. Then Tom came out of a corner and punched him."

"You caused a fight?"

"I was annoyed at first. I wanted to say I could look after myself. But then Tom said Charlie had this knife. And oh, he was foul, Joe. About a hundred years old with this girt yella beard. We got chucked out and Tom pulled me out and said he wanted to slap me flat."

"He's got some sense, then."

"Then he asked me - " She decided not to tell Joe that bit. There was a limit even with him and she felt ashamed of herself for striking her benefactor. "He asked me where I was staying and that he'd walk with me. I said I didn't want him to but he said he'd just follow me if he had to. So we walked back. Then he touched his hat and called me 'Miss'."

"A real gent. I bet that's the first time that's happened, eh?"

"Yeah, it is."

"So do you feel drunk?"

"I just feel a bit sick and have got a headache."

"Serves you right."

"That's why I don't want anything to eat."

Joe disappeared into the bathroom and she heard water splashing. When he reemerged, he was wearing his formal suit and trying to fix the tie around his collar.

"Tut! Here, let me!" She tied the bow and patted it. "There. You look gorgeous."

"Thanks, sis." He started to whistle and stared in the mirror, combing his damp hair. He splattered on some lotion and she caught the sweet, strong fumes from where she lay. "How's that?"

For the first time in her life she saw how incredibly handsome he was. A mischievous smile played on his lips. Did she really look like him? She got up and looked at herself. Yes. He was the spit of her. Instead of teasing him she was serious. "You look really nice, Little Joe. Really. All the girls'll swoon when they see you."

"Thanks. Sure you don't want to come?"

"You kidding? I've got to wear that dress tomorrow. I don't wanna wear it tonight too."

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me." He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "Pa'll never hear of your disgrace."

She banged him on the back. "Scoot."

She heard his laughter as he sauntered through the door.

O*O*O*O