Providence of Eden

Hot sun kissed the cast iron rails in Hannibal Missouri, as men and women of all classes gathered to see the launch of Hannibal & St. Joseph Railroad Lands new steam engine - The Wildcat. Adeline Quinn stood above them at the balcony of The Watchtower, a recently opened lounge for members of high society that might be waiting to catch the train. Currently, members were enjoying a first course of raw oysters shipped fresh on ice from Chesapeake Bay. Adeline wetted her lips looking at the display before her, but thought better than to indulge herself, thinking it best not to risk staining her new dress.

So she baked in the heat while wearing 6 petticoats under her newly fashioned floor length skirt. The petticoats were gored to throw out her skirts at the bottom, making them drape gracefully outward into the shape of a triangle. The skirts looked even bigger when compared to her small tightly-corseted waist. Her dress was buttoned down the front as was currently fashionable in England, and decorated with stylish soutache braiding along the sleeve ends and shoulders.

She walked the balcony to the railing to peer down onto the platform and catch the breeze – hot as it was. Next to her was a wiry man setting up his tintype camera. He must be a traveling photographer as he did not fit the status of the establishment to have been hired for the grand opening.

The man wore a dirty bowler hat and disheveled garments. Though, Adeline did notice the strength in his physique, thin as he was. Probably a laborer of sorts, so why did he have a tintype? He did have a friendly enough face, mutton chops reaching down to his chin connecting to his thick mustache, sun spots covered his cheeks and permanent laugh lines sprouted in the crease of his eyes. But there was something dark about those brown eyes, anger dwelled deep within them – like molten steel bubbling in a crucible.

“I would love to have my photograph taken if you are in need of a model,” Adeline said sweetly. She had her hands cupped behind her back and she hinged forward at the hips so as to bend down closer to the man's face, all while accentuating her chest. He looked up at her and she saw his face perk at the scent of her lavish Lubin perfume. Gingerly, she raised a hand to tuck some hair behind her ear while cocking her head and batting her lashes.

The man froze, stupefied for a moment, before cackling and even managing a whistle through missing front teeth. It was so sudden and jarring that it made Adeline jump. “You’re not likely to curry favor with me ma’am, no more likely than you could curry a horse! Now, if you wanted to curry my dish that would be grand.” The man laughed again and began to coat a thin metal plate with collodion. The pungent solvent smelled sweet and acrid making Adeline's nose wrinkle as fumes tickled the back of her throat.

“No reason to get excited.” spoke a man in a kind voice while patting the photographer's shoulder. “You’ll have to excuse my friend. He’s a bit of a joker.” There was something soothing about the mysterious man. He was dressed in finery, but the cuts were different. His choice of garment was a cutaway coat, more formal than the sack coat, but less formal than a frock. And his choice of styling, it wasn’t boxy at all, which was the common preference by men to assume an heir of masculinity. In fact it was cut so thin it remained single breasted and featured a sharp cutaway instead of the traditional soft and rounded cut. Adeline’s eyes jolted as she followed the silhouette of the coat and found the whole thing held up by a single button, most bizarre.

Yet, she couldn’t deny the appearance, in fact she had to pull up her gaze to prevent the gentleman from thinking she was staring down at his– “They prepare the table, they spread the rugs, they eat, they drink, Arise, O princes; oil the shield!” the gentleman said, interrupting her thoughts. He had gorgeous blue eyes and sported a clean shaven face, which allowed Adeline to enjoy his chiseled jaw. Most impressive was his full head of curly dark brown hair – sophisticated and elegant.

She gave the man a slight nod as a form of formal greeting “What verse is that?” The man smiled calmly and opened his bible “Isaiah 21:5, it speaks unto how we sup, when the lord tells us to prepare ourselves for what is to come.” Then he looked down at the page and gestured as if to ask if he might continue. Adeline nodded and so the man did. “For thus the lord said to me: ‘Go, set a watchman; let him announce what he sees. When he sees riders, horsemen in pairs, riders on donkeys, riders on camels, let him listen diligently, very diligently.’”

Adeline scrunched her nose in thought as she poured over the verses “Then you must be a god fearing man.” she said pointedly. The man closed his eyes and gently shook his head with a smile. Adeline didn’t like the way he did it. It was as if he were rejecting the musings of a child rather than engaging in discourse with a woman. “I have no fear for the lord, for he is always just in his deliverance.” “Of course,” she replied curtly.

“Ms. Quinn!” called the familiar voice of Adeline's Lady’s-Maid Mary. “You have unfortunately missed the first three courses of lunch, I humbly request your audience to join us back at the table.” Mary sauntered over towards Adeline, taking hold of her arm after giving a proper curtsy to the two men nearby. Leaning into Adeline’s ear she spoke softly “His excellency John Wood has joined your father to discuss the completion of the building of his new mansion in Quincy as the newly appointed governor. And my lady’s name has been brought up in conversation.” Adeline gave a wry smile as she knew Mary spoke just loud enough for the Father to overhear.

Adeline tenderly stroked the back of Mary’s hand that was grasped firmly around her arm. “I would love to speak with the right honorable governor of Illinois, but I’m afraid I cannot. I am on watch duty.” Mary gave Adeline a wide eyed look with arched brows “Watch duty? My, whatever do you mean child?” Adeline straightened herself, holding her chin aloft, the duo slowly strode around the gentleman as they continued to speak. “The lord has enlisted the reverend here with the mission of appointing a watchman, and I do stand firmly atop The Watchtower. It is my holy errand to keep my post.”

A soft glancing touch came across Adeline's back as she felt the graze of the Fathers hand. She could not help her face flushing beet red. Swallowing hard she collected her thoughts and began to fan herself. “I don’t suppose the lord emphasized that a watchman need not eat their lunch? It would be a terrible shame if you passed out in the heat and fell over the railing only to bake onto the platform below, leaving me to scrape you off the pavement with hammer and chisel.” added Mary. The joker laughed heartily to that, so heartily it made him cough as he dunked his metal plates into a bath of silver nitrate. “Actually, he did.” “Did he now?” “Mhm, Isaiah 21:5.” Mary sighed with defeat.

“Then I shall inform your father and the governor of your absence. Shame, any number of the ladies looking over at you and the handsome Father can’t take over your ordained position.” Mary emphasized the group of gawking ladies “Ever the cynosure.” Mary whispered to Adeline before heading back inside. The deep green of Adeline’s dress was beginning to sparkle across the stone. It was quite different from the other ladies' much lighter spring colored gowns.

She could see them judging her for wearing an evening style dress in the noonday sun, but Adeline knew something about The Wildcat that the other ladies didn’t. She smiled to herself, adjusting the large silk bow tied at her neck. Flexing her fingers in her wrist length cotton gloves, cotton picked from her fathers very own plantation. So what if the others sported leather, cotton was a source of pride to Adeline, a sign of her heritage and upbringing.

“Hurry up, we can’t be late.” said the Father to the joker while looking at a familiar timepiece. The joker laughed and took out a powder-flask adorned with a red Maltese cross from his inner breast pocket. Surprisingly, it was filled with cheap liquor instead of gunpowder. The joker took a swig and fixed his camera into position, peering through its lens as if he were aiming a gun. “Now now,” said the Joker through sour breath “you can’t rush art.”

Adeline recognized the Fathers pocket-watch. Small and round with delicate proportions, cased in 18k gold with lever escapement, sub-dials for seconds and attached to a metal chatelaine. Her chatelaine. This time her face grew red, not from flattery but from anger. “You’re no Father, you’re a thief!”

Suddenly, a whistle blew from within the dark tunnels and a bell rang out to warn the engineers to make way - The Wildcat was in motion. The steam engine groaned and bellowed as it slowly emerged, and lines formed along the platform below for boarding. Oh, how the people's jaws dropped when The Wildcat came out lacquered red, deep red after John Pratchett’s Napa Valley wine.

“I never claimed to be a priest, girl.” the thief said as he ignored her gaze, instead looking down at the train and ushering the joker to hurry. Adeline couldn’t help but pause to admire the train too. Steamers should have the firebox in a graphite matte color and the rest in a glossy black finish. That’s just how it is, but The Wildcat was built to be different, it was built to stand out.

Adeline smoothed her dress and reveled for a moment at the faces of the other girls just now realizing their dresses didn’t compliment the rich red exterior of the train. Only she was made aware of the paint changes, as her father had strong business relations with the railway and knew of the owner's love for North Carolina wine.

But her victory was short-lived. She grabbed hold of her chatelaine, gripping firmly with white knuckles “and here I thought you a gentleman, are you so stripped for cash you must rob young ladies? Or perhaps you have no job at all!” The joker laughed at her, “Now darling, that’s where you’re wrong. Business is booming.”

Adeline tugged at the watch but she couldn’t make it budge from the thief's grip. “Hurry,” he said through clenched jaw, “ready the shot.” His eyes were glued to the watch face as he counted down the seconds, fingers tapping furiously. His voice was no longer soft nor gentle. Then, Adeline did something unexpected, she let go of her time piece. For she saw two boys drenched in sweat, no older than fourteen and no heavier than 120lbs, emerge onto the platform riding on horseback.

The thief looked over at the boys, then back to the watch face and he continued his verses “Then he who saw cried out: ‘Upon a watchtower I stand, O Lord, continually by day, and at my post I am stationed whole nights. And behold, here come riders, horsemen in pairs!’ And he answered, ‘Fallen, fallen is Babylon; and all the carved images of her gods he has shattered to the ground.’”

“Blasted boys!” yelled the constable, “You can’t be back here, it’s dangerous!” But the boys ignored him, and instead trotted over to The Watchtower. One boy reached over to his mochila and took out a letter raising it high. “Pony Express with a letter for the Governor of Illinois. Pony Express with a letter!” Staff of The Watchtower wouldn’t let the boys inside, and something tugged at Adeline, something dreadful.

She reached down over the railing to the boy holding the letter “The governor is with my father, give me the letter and I shall hand it to him!” The boy hesitated, eyeing her skeptically. Once more she screamed to speak over the commotion below “Give me the letter!” The boy stood up on the stirrup gaining just enough height to slide the envelope over and onto The Watchtower balcony. In a fuss, Adeline pulled up her many skirts and reached down to grab it. “Mary! Oh Mary, come quickly!”

Mary rushed onto the balcony. “Goodness darling, what is it, what’s wrong?” Adeline's face was ghost white and tears welled in her eyes as she held the opened letter in her shaking hands. The joker placed a still wet metal plate into the camera, finally ready to take his shot. Mary grabbed the letter, dated April 12, 1861, written out to the governor of Illinois, the civil war had started.

The letter blew away in the howling wind. In the distance, The Wildcat growled. Then the bomb exploded.