The Untold Story of a Californian First Lady and Playwright - Blog Tour and Book Excerpt for "Mrs R Pacheco"

BOOK EXCERPT

During the eighteen-seventies, Californians took risks everyday.

Molly and Lizzie rode up Filbert Street in a horsecar packed with shoppers. It was winter, and the day was miserably wet and cold. Molly shivered, pulled her wrap tight against the wind, and listened to her sister complain about life in San Francisco.

“I don’t know how much longer I can put up with it,” Lizzie said. “I’ve repeatedly told Henry how I worry about living here, and now we have our baby to consider. The city has grown entirely too fast. And those terrible earthquakes! Mister Pickering’s pharmacy was almost destroyed three years ago. The poor man was lucky to get out alive. I don’t want to think what might happen if another, stronger quake comes along.”

Molly clutched her packages with one arm and used her free hand to grip the leather strap dangling above her head. The cobblestone streets were slick with drizzle, and the horsecar jerked back and forth, wheels lurching and clanking against the steel rails. The draft horses struggled to pull the heavily laden car. It was hard to keep their footing on such a steep hill, and the click and clack of iron horseshoes on the stone pavement only added to the racket.

Molly tightened her hold on the strap. She leaned close to Lizzie and raised her voice to be heard over the noise. “I hear they plan to install a cable car on Clay Street.”

“Newfangled inventions won’t make the city any safer.”

“At least they’ll keep the streets cleaner. Less manure to step around.”

Lizzie sniffed. “Even so, I think our family should move to Oakland.”

“All that way across the bay?”

“It’s not so far. Henry can take the ferry to his office each morning and still be home in time for supper.”

Molly understood Oakland’s rural appeal. Broad, wide-open fields and magnificent groves of live oaks gave the children plenty of space to play. The houses going in near Lake Merritt’s shoreline would be a quiet respite from San Francisco’s noise and bustle.

“Great things are coming to Oakland,” Lizzie said. “They’ve finished putting in the railroad, and there’s a brand-new train station at 16th and Wood. We’d be well connected to the rest of the country. The town’s fast becoming the most important—”

“Whoa! Hold on!” someone shouted.

“Look out,” the driver cried. “We’re slipping!”

He slammed down hard on his brake, but it was no use. The horsecar began sliding steadily backward down the hill.

“Everyone, jump!”

A woman shrieked, and panic broke loose. Frightened passengers leapt from the carriage and scrambled to escape. People were shouting frantically, searching for loved ones, tripping over the belongings now scattered across the cobblestones. Someone shoved Molly. Her skirts became tangled around her legs and her knees hit hard on the pavement.

“Lizzie, where are you?” she screamed.

“Over here,” Lizzie shouted. “Are you hurt?”

Molly struggled to her feet and rushed to throw her arms around her sister. Then she saw the horsecar. It was sliding backward down the rails, rolling slowly at first, but quickly gaining speed. The poor horses were still attached to their harnesses, and she covered her ears to block out the horrible shrieks of injured animals.

Lizzie clung to Molly and whispered, “I don’t want to look.”

They both turned away to avoid the spectacle of the wreckage. Unfortunately, they could not escape the dreadful noise when everything crashed in a jumbled heap at the bottom of the hill.