PEG BOY (9 page)

Sounds of
music and laughter came from dance halls and gambling houses whose doors swung
continuously by drunken crowds, yelling and shouting, as they staggered from
place to place. They watched as the throngs of wild-looking men and women came
and went, oblivious to all but their own pleasures. The women looked like none
that Santiago had ever seen.

One of the
buildings, tall in comparison to those around it, stood three stories high. The
upper two levels were rooms in whose windows sat ladies with painted faces who
called out to the miners and gamblers below, luring them with promises of
exquisite intimacies.

“Come
Santiago, this is not the place for us. These women would take our money and
leave us penniless, and with illness in our groin.”

“What are they
doing, Father? Why do they look like that?”

“They are of
no consequence, Santiago. These women sell themselves and accept money for
giving a poor representation of affection. You must never make the mistake of
thinking that you can buy love!”

As they
continued to walk, Santiago noticed the many boys idling about in doorways and
at almost every street corner. They looked at the men who passed and smiled,
some making gestures and following the men who looked back at them. Most of the
boys were dirty and in need of clothing and food. In their eyes, Santiago saw
the same look he had seen in the boys from Lima who had had nothing and begged
for a living. It was a look of anger and desperation.

Don Emilio
seemed unaware of the activity. Santiago recalled Captain Alvarez’s comment
about his
gold mine
and of those in San Francisco who would pay dearly
to have him. Were these boys using their
gold mines
? It did not seem
that they were putting much in their pockets for their efforts! He eyed them
carefully as they passed and they returned the gaze, recognizing Santiago’s
curiosity and fascination. One young boy who stood at the entrance of a hotel
caught Santiago’s eye and followed him with a riveting look. As Santiago and
his father passed the boy, he reached down and touched himself, making an
obscene gesture with his mouth. Santiago looked away and saw that his father
had noticed the gesture and was looking at him, but remained silent.

They arrived
to meet Captain Alvarez at the appointed hour. Don Emilio was becoming more
concerned about the attitudes of the Anglos. Again he wondered if his decision
to come the San Francisco had been the right one. The Captain was already
waiting and they saw that all the patrons of the establishment were Spanish. He
introduced them to the tavern-owner, a Colombian who made them feel welcome.

“This is a
good man, Joachim. He has traveled from Peru with his son, and they are here to
find their fortune.”

“You would do
better to start a business here than take your chances in those hills,
amigo.”

The owner
passed the wine around and raised his glass in salute to his friend, the
Captain, and to the new arrivals.

“This is to
wish you a safe sailing, Ramon. May your good luck hold on your return
journey.”

The Captain
nodded. “I can tell you that it will not be as good as the one we shared, eh my
friends?” He looked directly at Santiago and winked.

The owner
leaned toward the boy. “And you, Santiago, will you become a fortune hunter like
your father?”

“I go where he
goes. We are a team.”

Don Emilio
looked at his son and felt proud. He liked the way Santiago appeared less
inhibited by the adults around him. He liked the way the boy stood up to
scrutiny and the way he fit in with the men. They finished the wine when they
heard noises from a crowd outside.

“It is time to
close shop, my friends. The big ship is about to arrive and everyone will be at
the waterfront for the festivities.”

On February 28
of the year 1849, the
California
sailed through the Golden Gate
announced by cannon fire and a flurry of banners. The ship had stopped at
several ports along her route and in all places, had been received as royalty. Hundreds,
who had left the security of home and family, disembarked and were greeted by a
wildly cheering crowd. Five American warships escorted her through the Golden
Gate and into port. The ships let loose with a broadside salute that rattled
windows for miles around. Great balls of smoke rose above the water. Gulls
alighted by the thousands to the sound of thunder and filled the sky as though
part of the celebration.

Festivities
lasted well into early evening. They listened to speeches they did not
understand and tasted food they had never seen. Captain Alvarez did his best to
warn them about the ill-will of the Americans because they felt all newcomers
to be a threat – that any gold found should rightly be the property of 
Americans and, therefore, available for the taking. Santiago and his father
returned to the ship with Captain Alvarez and loaded their belongings into a
rented cart. They bid the Captain farewell and drove in the direction of Mission
Dolores.

 Mission Dolores
was built at the foot of a hill that was covered by an array of tents and
makeshift shelters. Although the hillside and surrounding area was littered and
dirty, Mission Dolores was well kept and the grounds were filled with flowers
that could be smelled long before one arrived. Don Emilio stood when the priest
entered. He bowed and without saying a word, handed the priest his letter of
introduction. Padre Juan Carlos read it silently, then looked at them and
smiled, extending his hand.

“You are
welcome here. I trust Padre Lipolito is well?”

“Yes Padre. My
son and I wanted to pay our respects and give you his good wishes!”

The priest
nodded, scrutinizing the man and boy. “You have come to California to look for
gold?”

“Yes Padre. We
will begin as soon as we can. But first we must buy the necessary supplies and
equipment. This is my son, Santiago.”

“
Buenos Dias
,
Santiago. I trust you travel has been quite an experience!”

“Yes, Father.
In
many
ways! We saw the most wonderful things! I saw a ship that moves
with no help from the wind. It bellows smoke from a fire in its belly that
forces a wheel to turn and paddle it through the water. I saw fish, some bigger
than me, that followed our ship..., yes, followed right alongside and they
would jump from the water and play with one another!”

“They are the
fisherman’s fiend, the dolphin, Santiago. They are a good fish. The Lord made
them as the seaman’s companion.”

Santiago was
exuberant, speaking swiftly as he was filled with the remembered excitement of
his travels and the marvels he had witnessed.

“...And there
were lights in the water at night. Yes..., sometimes I would watch the water as
it glowed beside the bow. Remember father when we saw the school of whales?”

Don Emilio
nodded affirmation and smiled at the priest’s kindly interest in his son’s
excitement.

“...
Si,
Padre
, the fish were much bigger than this room, much bigger! They shot
jets of water into the air like fountains. It was wonderful!”

“Yes Santiago,
there are many wonders in the world. God never ceases to reveal his wonders.
You are just beginning to see them and you will see much more. Thank God for
his beauty!”

“
Gratia
Dei,
” They said in unison.

Padre Juan
Carlos extended his hand and led them to a large sofa near the fire.

“You are both
adventurous. There is much that you will enjoy, but I am afraid that there is
more that you will not.”

Once again Don
Emilio was seized with apprehension. The look in the priest’s eyes seemed one
of fear. He knew that life in the hills would be difficult, perhaps too
difficult for his son to bear. Was there time to recant and change plans? Could
he do this without walking away from the offered experience without ever
feeling that he would have passed on an opportunity offered by God to make him
rich? They had come too far to turn back. He had to press forward!

“If you have
just arrived today surely you have not obtained rooms yet? They are not easy to
find,” Padre explained. “Those that are available are very expensive. You saw
the settlement of tents as you arrived. This is a bad place. You will find no
water and no sanitation facilities there. There is no place to bathe. You must
also be cautious of where you go in the town. Unfortunately there are bands of
men who attack our people.”

Santiago
listened as his father twisted the brim of his hat until the hat lost its
shape. The boy sat quietly, hands folded in his lap and Padre Juan Carlos could
not take his eyes from him. The boy’s eyes were dark and deep and he felt his
soul searched by them. Yet there seemed to be an innocence in them that made
Santiago seem spiritually beautiful. The boy possessed an aura that drew attention.
There was an element that the priest could not identify that caused him
fascination and at the same time, frightened him. He sensed power in the boy
and that power disquieted him.

“I suggest you
stay here until you make safe arrangements. We have a small room that you are
welcome to use.”

Don Emilio was
unsure of accepting. The priest noticed his discomfort.

“Please do not
feel you are imposing. Padre Lipolito was very generous to me when we were in
seminary together and I look upon this as an opportunity to repay him.”

Don Emilio was
thankful. “Perhaps while we are here my son and I could earn our keep and be of
service? We are craftsmen. Santiago has almost surpassed me in the art of
woodworking. We are at your disposal.”

“Done, then!”
The priest shook Don Emilio’s hand then stood and laid his hand on Santiago’s
shoulder. “We are building pews for the new chapel. Your skills would be
appreciated. Now come with me and I will take you to your room.”

They rose
early the next morning to the sound of bells calling worshippers to mass. Each
day they followed the regimen of waking at six and attending mass, then eating
breakfast on the verandah with the priest. The remaining part of the morning
was spent in the chapel working on the pews. The five hours of work passed
quickly as each did the thing that brought satisfaction. Don Emilio did the
rough carving and allowed Santiago to do the fine work, for the boy loved the
concentration it required.

After siesta
they drove the wagon to town. At first Padre Juan Carlos had come with them
under the guise of showing them where they could obtain the equipment they
needed. In actuality his presence insured less likelihood of them falling prey
to ruffians and he was able to use his influence to prevent the inflation of prices.
It would have cost them three times the amount to purchase the same items.

Each day was
an adventure for Santiago. The streets were filled with people, sights, and
sounds that commanded his attention. Shops contained marvelous gadgets,
clothing, furniture, and a never-ending source of amazement. Fruits and
vegetables were so easily grown that he wondered why anyone would buy them in
shops. He saw the fog cover a part of the city each day, and was reminded of
Lima at certain times of the year when the sun would not shine because of the
cloud cover. He watched the hills behind the mission as the fog bank rolled
over them and spilled down to the settlements and town beyond.

Santiago
became sensitive to how people looked and reacted to him. He knew that there
were those who desired him, and he could identify them right away by the
quality of their interest. He also wondered about Padre Juan Carlos, as there
was something of that same quality and he always seemed to be lurking about.
But the Padre never indicated he wanted anything other than to be friendly and
of assistance. By the end of the first week Santiago was convinced he had been
mistaken.

One day Don
Emilio decided to venture up the hill near the mission to speak to the people
and get a sense of what was happening. He might learn how to prepare for the
long journey he hoped would soon begin. The hill was one of several places
where new arrivals congregated. Because of the mission nearby, these people
knew there was always food or help. Those who were religious could attend mass
and vespers after which soup and bread was given to any who were in need.

It was
Santiago who led his father up the hill, following the path he had taken
several times in the past few days. They strolled casually in order to catch the
conversations exchanged by  many of the men who congregated in groups at the
shanties that served as cantinas, erected by enterprising merchants. Many men
stood outside as they drank and were free with their advice when Don Emilio
asked how one went about preparing for the journey into the mountains. All
seemed to know how to get rich in the gold fields, yet none looked like they
had experienced the wealth. There were campfires everywhere and the smoke
drifted down the hillside. Shelters were constructed of every material
conceivable; some from inverted ponchos, others made of conventional canvass,
still others consisting of sailcloth stolen or bought from ships left abandoned
in the harbor. There were makeshift wind-breaks of oilcloth sided with scraps
of wood. No material was discarded or considered worthless. The community of
hill-people consisted mostly men with few women and children. Some of these men
were those who had been to the placers before, but had run out of supplies,
forced to return to San Francisco to work or gamble to secure another
grubstake.

Food was
almost as precious as the gold they had not found. Theft and vandalism was
rampant. They only safe property was what was carried and even that, had to be
protected by a pistol. Everyone wore one. In the week that passed Santiago
understood the need for the precaution.