“Basta. The child must rest. Come back tomorrow night.” As we left, she pressed three quarters into my hand.
I expected that as soon as we were far enough away from the house, Erika would sing out her great laugh. But she only smiled, looked at me, and said, “Well, well!” Then she walked on. After a while she asked Sophie, “How long has this been going on?”
Sophie, enormously pleased by Erika’s serious attention, talked all the way home. She started from the beginning with the poltergeists, which had stopped for good with the earthquake and which she now interpreted as warnings of the earthquake. Then she went on through my growing participation in the sittings, culminating in my “vision” of the earthquake.
Erika spoke to me only once more before I went to bed. As we entered the house, she asked, “How much did you get?” She held out her hand. “I will keep it for you.”
What my sister did the next day stands as a good example of how clever she is. She wrote a letter to William James, the great philosopher-psychologist, who happened to be at Stanford University at the time. Not only did she know he was there and how important he was, but she knew of his interest in psychical research. Her letter was brief. It told him that her sister, “an innocent child of eleven,” had predicted the earthquake and had shown other unusual powers. It invited him to come to investigate me. She also sent a copy of her letter to the daily papers, which were putting out a joint edition from Oakland. Doctor James did not answer, but the newspaper printed the letter, which was what Erika really hoped for. “That will bring the fools out,” she said, and she was right.
From that night on Erika and I were together all the time. She moved into my bedroom, banishing Sophie to a cot downstairs in the kitchen. She went every night with me to Signora Renata’s house, where the crowds continued to grow. At the end of three weeks she made new terms with the Signora. “The main attraction here is my sister. I don’t want her worn out or cheapened. She will sit no more than three nights a week, for half the money you take in.” The Signora flashed a look of frightful anger at Erika but had no other choice than to agree.
Erika took me to the temporary office of the Bank of Italy on Railroad Avenue where she opened an account in my name, with herself as trustee. “If you want to take any money out, you need my signature. More important, neither Sophie nor Father can touch a dime. We’ll give Sophie three dollars a week for the house. The rest we save for your career.” As we left the bank, she asked, “Now, where is that library you mentioned?” I turned toward the street where the little storefront stood, dragging my feet as Erika strode forward. What would happen when Miss Harrington saw Erika? Would she turn her back as the neighbor women did when Erika walked past them?
I should have known better. When we walked into the little storefront, Miss Harrington turned from the pile of books he was shelving and firmly shook Erika’s hand. “We suffered little damage here because there wasn’t much to damage, as you see.” She was the same height as Erika, slender and straight like her, with what was called a “good carriage” in those days. “I reshelved the books that toppled out, that’s all. But since the quake, the dust raised around here is worse than ever. So many people, relief trains, street repair. My main job is keeping the books clean.”
Erika looked around, rummaging among the books, then picked up a thin, brown book. “Oh, good, Euripides’ Bacchantes.”
“Yes, one of our donations from a professor in Berkeley, but I’m afraid it’s in Greek.”
“Lovely,” said Erika. “I lost mine in the fire, and I do prize Beckwith’s notes, by far the best in any of these academic editions. May I borrow it?” Her voice was as challenging as when she had laid down terms with Signora Renata, but Miss Harrington did not seem to notice.
“Of course,” she said, accepting Erika’s erudition as matter-of-factly as she did Erika’s profession. “I’m glad to have this chance to talk with you about Mei-li. I’m sure you know your little sister is unusual, even gifted. But she has hardly attended school. That she learned to read and write at all, that she still can read …”
“Is a tribute to your teaching and to your continuing influence.”
“When the schools reopen, if they can reopen them by fall, there’s talk of combining Hunters Point with Outer Mission, but if we couldn’t get her to attend school here, how can we….”
“I’m taking over May’s education,” said Erika. “I’m sure I can do better for her than any school, can protect her from some bad influences and from some of the cruel things that happen to a child of mixed blood.”
“You may be right. But there are other influences that do harm.” Miss Harrington looked down at me. “I’m concerned, Mei-li, about some stories I’ve been hearing. There are many superstitious and ignorant people who …”
“Who will pay to have their credulities indulged,” said Erika. “What is a harmless diversion for such people must, for people less fortunate than you, be seized upon as their only source of income.” Erika was smiling, but her smile made me shiver. I was impressed but not surprised to see that Miss Harrington faced that smile with complete composure.
“I understand that. But I’m concerned about the effect on the child. Sometimes a choice made for immediate survival can, in the long run, bring great danger.”
“I think I know that, Miss Harrington, even better than you. What choices does my sister have? With all the schooling you can give her, she will still end up doing someone’s laundry. Or if she grows pretty enough, she could take up my line of work, her mother’s profession also.”
“That is not your plan for her, I hope.”
“It is not. My sister has shown some talent in the only other profession in which her race and sex are no barrier.”
“Spiritualism,” said Miss Harrington, as if she were spitting out the word.
“Many quite respectable and intelligent people are interested in spirit phenomena. Some of our city leaders, in fact, attend seances, especially now.”
“I see. You can take advantage of the fear and disorder brought on by this disaster.”
“I intend to try.”
Miss Harrington shook her head. “Please believe me, I do not judge you. Yet if you turn the child this way and then abandon her when you go back to …”
“I’m not going back. If I wanted to, I would have already. The first businesses to open again were those I worked in. Thriving.”
“But you are not going back? I congratulate you.”
“Miss Harrington, I am not a stupid woman. I am twenty-nine years old and in good health. I would be a fool not to see that now is the time to direct my energies elsewhere. Wquld you rather my sister go on with her drunken father and Sophie? Believe me, I have not come back in order to end my days in Butchertown. Together May and I will get out.”
Miss Harrington smiled. “Then I hope you will bring Mei-li to see me from time to time, for I will never leave Hunters Point.”
“Don’t be too sure of that.”
Erika’s plan for my education was bizarre. It consisted, at first, of reading books she chose from Miss Harrington’s Butchertown Library and later from the library and bookstores downtown. I was given books of fairy tales, folk tales, myths (including the collection of Indian tales Miss Harrington had copied by hand from local story tellers). Whenever I finished reading one of these books, Erika rewarded me with a penny, but otherwise made no comment.
Every day, while we walked from one place to another, she recited to me in Greek or Latin, making me repeat and memorize what I heard. She knew several poems in Sanskrit; I memorized those too, the way some people can whistle any tune they have heard once. Her surprised laugh was a greater reward than the penny I earned.