1929 (12 page)

“No, Sarah, I’m afraid I don’t understand. We
have been friends for going on five years. Are you pretending like
you don’t know me because I no longer have money?” she asked
incredulously.

“It’s not only that,” Sarah snapped
impatiently. “I’ve heard where you’ve had to move to . . .
surrounded by illegitimate and vile society, streetwalkers and the
like. Milton heard through a friend that your husband is doing
manual labor now.” She dropped her voice to a whisper, “I mean,
honestly, Arianna, what would we possibly have to talk about any
longer?”

Arianna’s face was a mixed expression of hurt
and disbelief as she slowly sat down. Ava and Claire, while taken
aback at how quickly details of their situation had spread, glared
at Sarah with hateful looks that made her uncomfortable, and she
rushed away. Arianna stared down in disbelief for a moment and then
looked up from the table slowly, her eyes pinned on Sarah. She
stood with as much grace as she could muster as fury welled up
inside her.

“Oh, no,” Claire said quietly, covering her
face with one hand. Ava looked at Claire desperately, but they both
knew that it was too late to stop whatever blitz Sarah had brought
on and rightfully had coming to her. Arianna smiled a large smile
until Sarah was almost, but not quite, to the door.

“Oh, Sarah, dear!” Arianna called loudly.
Sarah stopped abruptly but didn’t turn around. “You’re quite wrong
about something. We would have much to talk about over lunch, you
and I. Take Milton, for instance. I could tell you all about our
affair toward the end of your pregnancy when you were, well,” she
shrugged with an evil smile, “not up for the deed.”

Ava choked on her coffee, spewing it over the
lace linen and her dress. Claire’s head snapped up so fast, it was
painful.

“But you’ll be relieved to know that it was
indeed a very brief affair. After all, he is quite the clumsy lover
and very poorly equipped.” She narrowed her eyes. “And we could
also talk about the streetwalkers I now live in close proximity to.
Didn't a streetwalker give Milt that terrible rash while you were
recuperating from childbirth recently? That’s the word around the
gentlemen’s club, anyway. I really would see to it that it heals
before you think about lying with him again.”

Sarah spun around in mute horror, huffed and
turned on her heels to stomp out. Snickers and whispers rose up
from all parts of the café. Arianna sat down and took a dainty sip
of her coffee. Claire’s face quivered, not knowing whether to
laugh, cry, or run away.

“Dear Lord, Arianna!” Ava cried out and
leaned over the table toward her. “Now this whole café thinks
you’ve had an affair with Milton!” she whispered loudly.

“I don’t care what these people think of me.
Besides, I couldn’t exactly insinuate that her husband was an inept
lover with a minuscule appendage simply by rumor. It has much more
credibility coming from the horse’s mouth,” she said and grinned
maliciously.

Claire sat, shaking her head. “Life with you
is never boring, Arianna. Let’s get going before we’re thrown out.”
Claire put her share of the bill on the table and stood up.

“It wouldn’t be the first place I've been
thrown out of,” Arianna said quietly. They didn’t ask any
questions, but Ava and Claire had no doubt that it was completely
true.

Next, they went to the stationer where
Arianna picked out beautiful, heavy-weight, handmade paper, which
had the slightest pink tinge to it and rose petals of a darker pink
pressed along the bottom edge. Of course, she had to buy specially
made envelopes as well and enjoyed acting as if it were just
another shopping day. As they were leaving, something near the
display window caught her eye. She walked over to see a hardbound
notebook with a gold cover and a silver fleur de lis engraved on
the front, and she left with it tucked under her arm.

∞∞∞

Ava was in the kitchen putting the final
touches on dinner when Jonathan walked in carrying a package with
him. He had stopped on the way home and bought proper work pants,
boots, a second work shirt, and a pair of gloves. He limped to the
couch and sat down hard, letting the package drop to the floor. Ava
turned to see him and her smile faded. She had been remembering the
events of the afternoon, particularly the scene in the café, which
had been horribly embarrassing at the time, yet now seemed
absolutely entertaining. Jonathan rested his head on the back of
the couch and closed his eyes.

“That was the worst day of my life,” he
moaned. Ava sat down beside him and noticed his dress slacks
riddled with small tears and dirt, his shoes now scuffed beyond any
hope of repair and his shirt dingy with sweat stains around the
neck and underarms.

“Oh, Jonathan.” She took his hand; he winced
and pulled it back slightly. She turned his hand over and gasped
when she saw open, bleeding blisters covering the palms and
fingertips.

“Jonathan, what happened?” she asked with
frightened concern.

“Work. Hard work,” he said with eyes still
closed. He was so tired that he wondered if he could summon the
energy to get to the lumpy bed that he would be grateful to fall
into.

“But, Jonathan–”

“I bought gloves on the way home. I’ll wear
them tomorrow,” he said.

“But tomorrow’s Saturday,” she said
quietly.

“I know,” he said, hardly moving his mouth.
Ava went to the kitchen and wrung out several cloths in hot water.
He winced when she wrapped them around his hands. Eventually the
sharp stinging on the open sores eased as the warmth soothed his
aching joints. He rolled his head toward her and watched her as she
worked.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. She turned away
quickly, so he wouldn’t see her tears and busied herself in the
kitchen. He lacked the energy to show it, but he was truly happy to
be near her again. He'd never consider the shabby walls that
surrounded him home. The only place he considered home was near
Ava.

∞∞∞

“Arianna,” Caleb called as he walked in the
door. It was dark and quiet, and he was just about to turn to look
for her at Ava’s or Claire’s when he heard a noise in the bedroom.
He pushed open the door and saw Arianna sitting in the dark on the
floor against the wall, head on her knees, arms covering her
head.

“Arianna. What happened?” he asked with
alarm, and quickly sat down on the scuffed, hardwood floor in front
of her. She lifted her head to look at him. She was sniffling, and
he could see she was at the end of a hard cry.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said
with a whimper.

“No, Arianna, what happened?” She took an
uneven breath and told him about Sarah and the scene in the café,
how embarrassed she was, how horrible she was made to feel for
suddenly being poor. She detailed her outburst at the end that left
Sarah speechless. Caleb had trouble suppressing a smile.

“You actually said that?” referring to her
comments about Milt, the rash and the streetwalker. The fact that
she had publicly announced stepping out on Caleb flew right past
him as many of her words and actions did. She nodded and blew her
nose with a handkerchief, which Caleb handed to her. He let out a
little laugh. “Well, sounds to me like she had it coming.” Then he
said more seriously, “That was awful of her to act that way toward
you. I knew she was on the petty side, but still–”

“It’s not just that.”

“There’s more?” he asked, his eyes
widening.

“Everyone’s talking, Caleb. They’re all
talking about me, about us, where we have to live and about where
you have to work. I can’t believe how fast bad news gets around.”
He sighed with a hint of frustration.

“Why do you care, Ahna? They aren’t real
friends. Let them talk.”

“Me, Claire and Ava were planning to go back
to the café once a week, and now we can’t do that. I’m sure I’ll
run into people we know, and they’ll be nasty and make me feel
horrible.” She dropped her head on her knees again. Caleb tried to
be understanding, but he was tired and hungry. He was at a loss for
what more to say. Shallow people would be nasty. They’d talk and
say hurtful things, but this was the least of his worries. He
simply decided to change the subject.

“Why don’t I run down and get us something to
eat? You clean up, and I’ll be right back.” He kissed the top of
her head as his stiff legs lifted him off the floor.

∞∞∞

Aryl had been quieter than usual on the walk
home. The others had noticed, but assumed he was simply as
exhausted as they were, too exhausted to complain. But he was
already rolling around a few different ideas. Always perceptive
when it came to opportunities no one else noticed, he was even more
desperate to find something to cultivate now as every muscle and
bone in his body ached.

Misery motivated him more than money ever
had. He’d off-loaded bulk flour and rice all day. Most of it
directed to repackaging and redistribution plants, but some bulk
orders went to large bakeries and restaurants. There had to be a
way to get in the middle of that and turn a profit. Find the
supplier overseas and undercut the competition on this side.

He was still lost in these thoughts while he
and Claire ate dinner. She took his silence as not wanting to talk
about his day, which by the looks of him, had to have been a hard
one. She decided to tell him about hers. When she started to
explain the scene at the café, he fully pulled away from his
thoughts and was laughing heartily by the end of the story. Aryl
shook his head, smiling.

“How Caleb puts up with that girl, I’ll never
know.” He turned to the wall over the fireplace. “I see you’ve
started the mural,” he said, looking over the rough pencil outlines
above the mantel.

“I picked up more black paint, so I could
start working on the storm clouds.”

His smile faded slightly. “Do you have
yellow?”

“I think so, why?”

“For the light. It needs to have a very
bright light,” he said quietly. “One that can shine through to
other side of the storm.”

∞∞∞

Ava sat down next to Jonathan on the couch,
balancing two plates. He lifted his head to see a tiny piece of
steak, a lobster tail, a baked potato with butter, and smiled.

“I wasn’t really serious,” he said as he
removed the cloths from his hands and reached for the plate. “But
it smells wonderful.” Just then, they heard a few thuds coming from
the far wall of the apartment. Jonathan raised an eyebrow.

“There are people living over there?”

“I saw her today. Poor thing was cornered by
that woman,” she said, squinting her eyes to imitate the beady eyes
of the overbearing neighbor. “She was trying to manage her babies
and groceries and trying to get in her door.”

“They have children?” He shuddered at the
thought of having to raise a child here.

“Two that I saw. A little girl of maybe two
or three years old and a small baby. It was in a blanket, so I
don’t know if it’s a girl or boy. Cute thing, though; fat, little
cheeks and big, brown eyes.” He didn’t answer, his mood suddenly
dropping again. It had been unspoken between them but understood
that the plans they had to start a family were to be postponed
indefinitely. They ate the rest of their dinner in silence. Ava
took the plates to the kitchen and cut a piece of the small cake
she had bought that afternoon. She brought it over to see Jonathan,
his head resting on the back of the couch again, sound asleep.

∞∞∞

“I bought you something today,” Arianna said as they
ate the sandwiches Caleb bought from the deli. They sat on the
floor in front of the fireplace with the harsh overhead light
turned off.

“Oh, yeah? What is it?” he asked, inhaling
his sandwich. She hopped up to get the notebook from the bedroom
and held it out to him as she sat back down.

“What’s this?” he asked, turning it over then
opening the hard cover. “It’s for your ideas,” she said
enthusiastically. “I thought it might get hard to hold so many
ideas and plans in your head, keep them all straight, so I bought
you this.” He stared at it for a long time, feeling the slightest
bit of panic come over him.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?”

“Of course, I do. Thank you, Ahna. It’s
perfect,” he said and smiled at her, hoping that she couldn’t see
through him at that moment. In truth, he had absolutely nothing to
write down.

November 2nd 1929

The morning brought pain and stiffness the
likes of which none of the men had ever experienced. Overworked
back, arm and leg muscles stung and cramped in protest as each man
agonizingly pulled his body from bed to begin another day of
grueling labor.

Ava found herself doing the same monotonous
housework as the morning before. She was tempted to do more but
decided it wouldn’t make any improvement on the appearance of the
apartment, so she sat down to read by the fire. She couldn’t
concentrate and gave up after reading the same paragraph several
times. She stared into the fire for a long while. Even though only
three days had passed, her lovely home, her idyllic existence, and
even her normally amorous husband all seemed like distant memories
now. With nothing to distract her, she was unable to prevent the
torrent of emotion that had been building for the last week from
surfacing. Memories crept to the forefront of her mind. Details of
the life she used to have, and the harsh contrast of her present
reality hit her with full force. She covered her face with her
hands, folded over onto her knees and sobbed.

∞∞∞

Word travels fast in poor and rich circles
alike, and the buzz around the shipping dock revolved around the
three new hires. A scruffy-looking man with a full beard poked
Jonathan in the shoulder during the brief morning break as he
leaned against a partially unloaded pallet of flour sacks.