“Yes, sir.” Theresa bounces nervously on her feet as we get closer to where Alcatraz rises out of the water with its layers of green moss and brown residue.
Trixle straightens his hat and ducks back into the cabin as he catches sight of Mae Capone.
I guess she’s been to San Francisco before. Otherwise, she’d never wear fur in the summer. Man, it can be cold here when the fog comes in.
“Moose,” Annie asks as the gulls suddenly make a ruckus-squawking and complaining like a bunch of old ladies, “if you were to get married, how many kids would you want?” She looks at me seriously.
“How should I know, Annie?”
“Would they all play baseball?”
I shrug. “Why else would you have kids?”
She nods. “Well then. You better make sure your wife can play too. That’s my advice to you, Matthew Flanagan,” she says.
I roll my eyes. “Whatever you say, Annie,” I tell her as we pull into the dock at Alcatraz and the buck sergeant jumps off, winding the rope around the cleat. The cons who take care of the dock and unload the boats are standing at attention as far from the ferry as possible. Quiet as they are in their spanking clean chambray shirts you can feel the excitement run through them like some new kind of electricity has come our way. It isn’t every day a woman as beautiful as Mae Capone comes to the island.
The warden gets off first with the Angel Island officers. They walk across the gangplank sure and true as if their legs don’t even notice how it dips and rises. Then comes Bea Trixle, taking unsure wobbly steps in her fancy shoes, and three or four people I don’t recognize, who must be visiting cons on the island. Officer Trixle is down by the snitch box, which is what we call the metal detector everyone must walk through before entering the island. He is supervising the visitors’ walk-through. The next person, a little old lady in a blue hat, triggers the snitch box and it blares. Everybody crowds around to see the show. There’s nothing like the snitch box for a little excitement.
The warden motions to Trixle, who trots over to get his orders. Trixle nods and returns to the little old lady. He has her walk back through, triggering the snitch box again. Officer Trixle motions to Bea, who clickety-clacks across the dock, swinging her hips with each step.
“Think it’s her corset?” Annie asks. Al Capone’s mom visited the island a few months ago and she set off the snitch box with the metal in her corset. Poor woman had to be searched down to her undergarments. She was mortified, never even went up top to visit her son after it happened. She got back on the boat and went home.
“Probably,” I say, looking around for Theresa, but she has disappeared. “Where’s Theresa?”
Annie turns around. “Trixle will kill us,” she says.
I think again about what Trixle said about Natalie. He makes me so furious I could uproot buildings with my bare hands. Even so, I know my father would not have approved of what I said-or how I said it either. There are so many things to worry about, I can’t keep track of them all. I just want this day to end.
“You stay here. I’ll find her,” I say, but before I can even begin to look, Theresa is back.
“Theresa!” Annie scolds. “You were supposed to stay here.”
Theresa’s brown eyes are the size of bowling balls. “I saw something,” she whispers.
Theresa is always seeing things and imbuing them with great meaning.
“For your book?” Annie asks politely.
“No, Annie. This really happened! Mae Capone dropped her hanky and I saw!” Theresa whispers.
“Yeah, so?” Annie says.
“She didn’t pick it up again.” Theresa’s whisper is throaty. “It was off the boat… way off. I’ll show you.” She tugs on Annie’s arm.
“Didn’t you hear Trixle? We’re supposed to stay put,” Annie snaps at Theresa.
“Oh.” Theresa’s shoulders sink. “It was a pretty one with a hummingbird on it,” she says.
“And you could see this from here?” Annie asks.
“I have sharp eyes. My daddy said so.”
Bea Trixle is back with the lady in the blue hat. “Earrings,” she calls to Darby, jangling a handful of jingling metal.
Darby trots over to the warden and gives this information to him. The warden motions to the woman to come through the snitch box again. This time no alarm. Then comes Mae-I can tell by the sudden buzz of interest from the cons. They aren’t the only ones craning their necks to see her either. Half the folks in 64 building are out on the balcony watching.
We’re stuck on the boat until Mr. Mattaman comes on board to escort us off. By the time our feet hit the wooden dock planking, the warden, Mae Capone, and Darby Trixle are long gone. Even the cons are back to their sweeping. Theresa skirts around to the spot on the other side of the boat to collect Mae’s hummingbird hanky.
It isn’t there, of course. We help her hunt for a good twenty minutes, but we don’t find anything.
Theresa has her hands on her hips, glaring at us. “You don’t believe me, do you?” she says.
“Of course we believe you,” I say.
Theresa stamps her foot. “It really happened!”
“I just said we believe you, Theresa,” I tell her.
“And you know what else? I touched her! With my hand! When she was talking to Moose. I have so many things to write down. Don’t talk to me.” She puts her hand over her ears. “I got to go record everything before I forget!”
17. PIXIE GUARD #1
Tuesday, August 27, 1935
One laundry cycle has passed since I gave Mae her yellow rose, and I haven’t heard any more about it. I don’t think I’m going to either. I’m square with Al now. He’s going to leave me alone. My hives are practically gone too; no more wild scratching in the middle of the night. And not even Darby seems to have noticed Mae’s yellow rose, burnt up as he was about me giving one to Bea. Thank goodness for Bea and her pineapple upside-down cake, that’s all I can say.
Not that I’ve exactly stopped searching my laundry. I’m like a gold digger the way I check everything: every pocket, every cuff, every sleeve, every pant leg. I pay close attention to the plumbing too because I don’t want Seven Fingers coming to my place again. Finding a note in the pocket of my shirt was bad enough. Messing with my pillow… that’s something else again. A guy’s pillow is personal, you know?
Still, all in all I’m feeling pretty good. I don’t even mind that school is starting soon, mostly because that means baseball will be beginning too. Annie is going to join us after school. She’ll be the only girl, of course. Her mom is pretty proud about this. She’s started a new needlepoint pillow to honor the occasion: Home Run Gal, it says. So long as she doesn’t make one that says Needlepoint Guy I guess I’m safe.
Natalie is even doing well. She’ll be home for a visit next week. And Scout is coming to the island this afternoon to play ball. I ran this by Jimmy and he seemed fine about it. He said he was glad Scout was coming, so even that little mess has worked out!
This time I decide to run the paperwork for Scout’s visit by Darby before turning it in. I’m not taking any chances. I knock on the Trixles’ door, but Darby’s not there and only Janet is available. “Hi,” she says. Her hair is in its usual braids and she has scissors in her hand. “Theresa with you?” she asks hopefully.
“No,” I say.
She nods. “Theresa won’t play with me. She’d rather play with your sister. And I’m not allowed to play with Natalie. Did Theresa really touch Mae Capone?”