The train slowed. A tall tower with a clock rose from a three-story building with rows of windows trimmed in white. Laurel heard the clank of couplings, and gradually they came to a stop. Brian and Justin tumbled out of their seat and into the aisle.
“Boys,” Will said sternly, grabbing hold of the back of Brian's jacket. “We'll go together. This is a big city. I don't want you wandering off.”
Brian pouted but only for an instant. This was too exciting a moment to waste on a mood. He stood beside his father. “Can I carry something?”
“Sure.” Will handed him a small suitcase.
Laurel stood, anxious to get a look at the city. They had only two days in Seattle, and she intended to make the most of them.
“This is it,” Will said with a smile. The line of people in the aisle moved, and the family shuffled forward.
Laurel followed her mother down the steps and onto the walkway alongside the train. She breathed in mingled odors of exhaust, tobacco, fried food, and damp earth. The air felt cool and humid. Puddles left from an earlier rain forced her to pay attention to where she placed her feet.
Influential-looking men stood on a platform. The colonists crowded around. One man wearing a pinstripe suit stood in front of a microphone. He tapped the speaker, sending it into a squealing rant. Grimacing, he leaned away from the microphone, scanned the crowd, then smiled. “Welcome, colonists. Welcome.” The buzz of conversation died.
A city official reached out to a baby cradled in a woman's arms, lifted him up to the crowd, then planted a kiss on the child's cheek. Flashbulbs popped. Wearing a plastic smile, he patted the child's bottom and handed him back to his mother.
The man at the podium looked slightly ill at ease but smiled at the baby-kissing official and the colonists. “You have come to the greatest city on earth. Welcome. We wish only good things for your future. Now it is my pleasure to introduce—”
Another squeal from the microphone drowned out his words. Still wearing an artificial smile, the man who'd kissed the baby walked up the wooden steps leading to the stage and stood in front of the microphone. The first man stepped aside and sat in a chair at the back of the platform. The official at the loudspeaker cleared his throat and, in a soft voice, said, “We hope your stay in this fine city will be a happy one. We've arranged special outings for you while you're here, and we wish you luck as you journey north to your new homes.” Spreading his arms, he added, “Welcome.”
Another man replaced the second. He droned on about Seattle and what a privilege it was to be a part of the government's grand experiment. “It's all a bunch of political hogwash,” Adam stated sourly.
Laurel turned, surprised to find him at her shoulder. “How do you know? Maybe they mean what they say. They're helping us, aren't they?”
“Yeah, but this is nothing more than a chance to look good.”
The city representatives finished their speeches and spent more time pinching babies' cheeks and smiling for the cameras. Several women worked their way through the crowd, handing out badges. One with short curly hair approached Laurel. She handed her a button that read, Matanuska Pioneer. “What is this?” Laurel asked.
“If you wear the pin you get free transportation on any street car, admission to a motion picture theater, plus entrance to some of the pubs and nightclubs here in town. There will be sightseeing trips too, and a picnic at Woodland Park.” She smiled sweetly. “We want you to enjoy your visit.”
“Thank you.” Laurel pinned the button to her coat. She hadn't expected such special treatment.
After the speeches were over, information about upcoming events was given, then Boy Scouts helped carry the colonists' baggage to the nearby Frye Hotel. Laurel stepped through the door into the foyer and onto soft carpeting. The lobby was impeccably clean with cushioned chairs, a sofa, and floral carpeting. The travelers quieted as they took in the plush surroundings. Will joined a line forming at the front desk. Jean sat with Susie in her lap. Laurel kept watch over her two youngest brothers, but even they were silently gaping at the accommodations. Laurel thought her mother looked tired and hoped their stay in Seattle would rejuvenate her.
“We're on the third floor,” Will said, dangling a key.
“Oh, boy!” Brian yelled.
A short man, nearly as wide as he was tall and wearing a dark blue uniform, picked up two suitcases. Will grabbed another and asked, “Luke, could you carry that one?” Luke hefted the suitcase. Brian still had a tight hold on the bag he'd been given.
“This way, please,” the bellhop said and headed toward a double door.
He pushed a button on the wall, waited, and doors opened. He stepped inside, and the Haspers followed.
Justin gazed at the walls and ceiling. “Is this an elevator?”
“Of course it's an elevator,” Luke said testily.
“Luke,” Will said, a warning in his voice.
Laurel felt a thrill as the doors closed and the lift carried them upward. Her stomach turned over just a bit at first, then she couldn't even tell they were moving. When they stopped her stomach dropped again. Pressing her hand against her abdomen, she joined her family as they followed the bellboy into a narrow corridor. It had the same flowered carpeting as the lobby and muffled their steps as they walked to their room.
The bellboy stopped in front of room 322, pulled out a key from his pocket, and turned it in the lock. Pushing open the door, he stepped inside. “I hope you have a pleasant stay,” he said in a practiced tone, then walked out and closed the door.
The hallway carpet continued into the large room. A double bed sat on one wall with a four-drawer dresser on the opposite wall. A small table with two cushioned chairs sat beneath the only window. A door led into a smaller adjoining room with a double bed, chest of drawers, and two cots.
“This is neat,” Brian cried, throwing himself across the bed. Arms flung above his head, he lay flat on his stomach. “I like it here. Can we stay?”
“Don't be a drip. Of course we can't stay,” Luke said. “This is a hotel. You don't live in hotels.”
“Enough of that. Your father already warned you,” Jean said. She returned to the larger room. “Oh, look—flowers.” She walked to the table and bent to smell a bouquet of daffodils and tulips. “They're beautiful. I never expected this.”
“Hey, look!” Justin called, digging into a box beside the bed.
Brian joined his brother. “Toys!” He lifted out a truck and ball, then looked at his mother. “Are these for us?”
Will walked to the box and looked inside. He picked up a plastic doll with blond curls. “I guess so. Why else would they be here?”
“I think we should check first,” Jean said. “I can't imagine the hotel giving the children toys.”
Justin shoved his hand into a baseball mitt. “Can we play with them until we find out?”
“No. Put everything back.”
A knock sounded at the door, and Will opened it. The bellboy stood with a shabby brown sweater held at arm's length. “Does this belong to one of your children, sir?”
“Jean? Is this ours?”
