It Happened at the Fair (31 page)

The guard nodded. “Follow me.”

They took two steps per chime, and Cullen found himself counting the tread. In the balustraded inner balcony, he had an unrestricted view of the painted mural gracing the dome. Apollo sat on a lofty throne conferring honors on leaders in science and art. Cullen’s gaze skittered away from the list of early discoverers and inventors recorded below it.

“Wait here,” the guard said, stepping behind an oversized door with cut-glass inserts. A moment later, he returned, indicated Cullen enter, then pulled the door shut behind him.

Surely Grover Cleveland’s office couldn’t be more sumptuously appointed. Decorative molding, gilt-framed paintings, an electric chandelier, and wall-to-wall carpet in varying shades of purple bespoke the man’s importance. He’d not only overseen the administration of the entire fair, but also appointed the heads of its departments. He sat at a rolltop desk jutting out from the wall, and if his white hair and goatee were any indication, he looked to be in his sixties. With one leg crossed over the other, he gently rocked his swivel chair while one arm rested along the armrest and his other held the paper he perused.

DIRECTOR-GENERAL GEORGE R. DAVIS

Cullen’s stomach tightened. What was he doing here? He was a nobody, his exhibit child’s play compared with all the other great displays he’d seen. What made him think even for a second this man would listen to his appeal? Only desperation held him in place.

Finally, Director-General Davis put down his paper and leaned back in his chair. “You must be McNamara.” He indicated the spindle chair beside his desk. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you.” Cullen eased into the chair and tucked his long legs out of the way.

“I understand you want to set a shed on fire and endanger the entire park.” Davis’s voice was calm and matter-of-fact, but his steely gray eyes looked Cullen square on.

Scooting back in the seat, Cullen straightened his spine. “I’d never endanger the park, sir. If I thought my demonstration would do that, I wouldn’t be here.”

“But you do want to set a shed on fire?”

“Yes, sir. Just temporarily. My sprinklers will put it out within three minutes.”

Davis placed his elbows on the armrests and threaded his fingers together over his stomach. “You sound very sure of yourself.”

“I am.” Slipping a hand into his coat pocket, Cullen removed a sprinkler head. “If I may?”

Davis nodded. “Go ahead.”

Cullen showed him where the solder joint would be and what would happen when it melted. “Water pressure on the diaphragm keeps water away from the moving parts, protecting the device from corrosion. But the moment the solder melts, the diaphragm bursts, the valve opens up, and water gushes through.”

Davis tapped his thumbs together. “What happens if it’s a windy day? Heaven knows we get plenty of those up here. It would take much less than three minutes for sparks to fly from your shed to a neighboring building. And these buildings are highly flammable.”

“That’s why I recommend we do this in an out-of-the-way place. Maybe in the back corner of the park by the trash furnace?”

Davis shook his head. “It smells back there, especially with the sewage cleaning works right next door. I wouldn’t want any guests over there.”

“What about over by the terminal tracks, then? You know, behind Machinery Hall’s annex? That’s fairly deserted. Or maybe at the end of the north pier?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t see the benefit outweighing the risk.”

Clasping his hands together, Cullen leaned forward. “Sir, this automatic sprinkler can save lives. Not just a few, but hundreds, thousands of them. Think of any fire you’ve ever been a part of.” He knew the man wouldn’t be able to help but think of the Cold Storage fire. “If the home or building you’re thinking of had had automatic sprinklers installed, they would have released water at the first sign of trouble. In most cases, the sprinklers would put the fire out completely. If nothing else, they would at least help control it until the occupants could escape and the brigade could arrive. But none will ever be installed unless business owners see it work with their own eyes. And for that I need a demonstration.”

“I appreciate that, son, but I simply can’t take that kind of risk. Not after the Cold Storage tragedy.”

He scrambled for a compromise. “What if we had a company of firemen at my demonstration ready with hose carriage and water tower? At the first sign of trouble, they could douse the whole thing.”

Davis rubbed his eyes. “There wouldn’t be any signs of trouble if we didn’t do the demonstration at all.”

“Please, sir.”

“I’m sorry. I just can’t approve this.”

Cullen’s breaths became shallow. “Could you talk with Chief Murphy about it? See what he thinks?”

Uncrossing his legs, Davis put both feet down and rolled his chair back to his desk. “It would take more than that, I’m afraid. I’d also have to speak with Colonel Rice of the Columbian Guards, the president of the commission, the Council of Administration.” He shook his head. “The list goes on and on. I’m sure you can appreciate the difficulty in receiving a unified response, not to mention the time spent in tracking everyone down.”

“What if I speak to them? What if I track them down?”

Davis shrugged and picked up a pen from its holder. “If you like. Be my guest.”

“May I tell them you sent me?”

“Fine, fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me?” He dipped his pen in the ink.

Cullen stood. “Yes, sir. Thank you for your time.”

Instead of returning to Machinery Hall, he wandered through the upper-floor corridors, reading the nameplates at each door, and knocking on the ones that held the decision makers.

NURSERY IN THE CHILDREN’S BUILDING

“Of all the attractions at the fair, Cullen couldn’t think of any he’d rather skip more than the Children’s Building. What possible interest would he have in looking in on a bunch of kiddies whose parents had checked them at the door?”

CHAPTER

33

Della arranged fifteen toys on a pallet in front of the children, then returned to her seat. The school didn’t require uniforms for the students. Instead, the girls wore homemade smocks in a variety of colors, while the boys dressed in brown or navy short pants and miniature neck scarves.

CHILDREN'S BUILDING

She gave their semicircle a sweeping glance. “Who can show me where the baby doll is?”

Eight little hands shot into the air. Vivienne waved hers above her head in a large arch. Edgar wiggled all five fingers. Theo rocked back and forth. Kitty gave her an imploring look. Boyce sat slumped with his arms crossed. Julia Jo sat prim and proper.

“Julia Jo.”

She bounced off her chair and ran straight to the doll, hugging it fiercely to her breast. “The daaa is riii he-yore.”

“ ‘The doll is right here.’ Very good, Julia Jo.”

Kitty’s face crumbled, her eyes watering.

Della quickly moved to the next object. “Who can spy the woolly lamb?”

It didn’t matter who else raised a hand. Della knew she’d pick Kitty. The doll and stuffed lamb were her very favorites. Next to those, any type of instrument that would allow her to play house—whether it was a broom, a washboard and a pail, or a collection of miniature pots and pans. But in order to give all the other girls a chance to play with the doll and stuffed lamb, Kitty had gone without for almost a week.

“Kitty.”

Blinking away her tears, Kitty slid from her chair, her tightly coiled blond curls bouncing, then went immediately to the lamb. “Hiss is a wulley am.”

“ ‘This is a woolly lamb’ is correct.”

A group of visitors shuffled in, but Della paid them no mind as she continued the drill until all children had a toy to play with.

“You did an excellent job.” She clapped her hands in approval, the visitors following suit. Then she checked the watch pin on her blouse. “You may have twenty minutes for playtime.”

The tourists began to shuffle out.

“Mama!” Kitty screeched, dropping the woolly lamb and rushing to a fashionable woman who crouched down with open arms.

The adults stopped. The children froze. Della sucked in her breath.

Mrs. Kruger clasped Kitty to her much like Julia Jo had the baby doll, then stood without letting go. Both mother and daughter cried and hugged and kissed. Mr. Kruger, a young, affluent man in a tailored silk suit, placed one hand at his wife’s waist and the other on Kitty’s back.

Della clasped her hands, then caught the tour guide’s eye and indicated with a slant of her head that she take her group from the room.

“Right this way, please. Our next stop is the roof.” Giving parting glances to the touching scene behind them, all but the Krugers left.

But no good could come from this. There were strict rules about visitations.

She glanced at her students. They loved playtime. She made a point to rotate the toys so they never became old. Boyce had a box of ten-pin blocks. Vivienne had a Cinderella coach with blocks illustrating the story. Edgar had a bucket of toy soldiers.

Yet none of them were playing. All watched with stricken expressions, wishing it were their parents at the door.

Della approached the couple.

Mr. Kruger glanced up. “Please forgive us, Miss Wentworth. We’d come to the fair and wanted only to have a glimpse of her. We didn’t intend for her to see us.”

“Mr. Kruger, you know there are rules about this. Just look at the other children. And now, Kitty. She’ll be morose for who knows how long, knowing you are here yet not understanding why she can’t go with you.”

Mrs. Kruger tucked Kitty against her shoulder. Kitty stuck a thumb in her mouth and ran her other hand along the fringe of her mother’s collar.

“Why can’t she go with us?” the woman asked. “What would it hurt? We could take her to see so many things. Has she even been out of this building? Or is she imprisoned here so the curious can come look at her, as if she were no more than an animal in the zoo?”

Della’s lips parted. “That’s not at all what it’s like. We are allowing the public to come in so they can see how critical it is for us to teach the children to lip-read at as early an age as possible. To show them these children are equal to the task just as the hearing are. That is our purpose here.”