1929 (2 page)

Caleb grew up an only child on his parents’
farm. When he was twenty, his grandfather suffered a stroke and
Caleb ran the adjoining farm entirely on his own. In gratitude, his
grandfather willed him the estate when he passed. Caleb sold the
farm and took his time traveling south to discover what each state
had to offer. He was still intent on farming but needed a change of
scenery. He hadn’t made up his mind which state he liked best until
he met Arianna. From that moment on, the only place he wanted to be
was with her. It wasn’t long before fate led them north as
well.

Jonathan rested his head on his forearm, his
other hand still gripping the glass. No matter how many times he
turned it over in his mind, he knew he was responsible for their
losses as he involuntarily relived the events of the day.

That morning all three had arrived at the
office early. Not one of them slept much the night before. Truth be
told, they hadn’t slept well for weeks. The markets had gone from
wild fluctuations the past month to spiraling out of control in the
last week.

Glancing up at the clock, Jonathan paced his
office in the moments before the opening bell. Today would make or
break him and he knew it. He had guessed one of two things would
happen. Either investors would start a frenzy of buying dirt-cheap
stocks that would hopefully cause an amazing rally similar to the
previous Thursday, or the massive sell off would continue and God
only knew what would happen then. One of his best analysts sat at
the ticker, anxious and alert, waiting for the numbers. At opening
bell, the tape started streaming out as Jonathan, Aryl, and Caleb
gathered around the desk. The analyst began yelling almost
immediately. From the second it opened, the markets plummeted.
Jonathan paced and anxiously waited for the rally. He could feel it
coming, but Caleb and Aryl were nervous.

“Let’s get out, Jon. It’s not gonna stop,”
Caleb pleaded.

“It will. Trust me, it will,” Jonathan
insisted as he paced. Eventually, he began to lose faith that a
rally was coming as his firm was quickly filling with panicked
clients who demanded what was left of their money. He finally gave
the order to sell everything and move into cash and gold. His
interns worked furiously on the telephones and telegraph.

A fellow broker, tie loose and jacket hanging
off one of his shoulders, staggered into the office. Sweat covered
his blood-red face as he screamed the news like a town crier, “It’s
lagging! It’s lagging!”

The sell orders were coming in so fast that
the ticker couldn’t keep up. The global purging had caused an
undetermined delay. When Jonathan had finally given the order to
sell, it was at numbers that were completely inaccurate in real
time. He grabbed his coat and ran. Aryl and Caleb followed close
behind.

Full-blown panic had ensued in the streets.
Hundreds of people crowded the entrance of the Exchange. Panic
caused bank runs that resulted in the sudden failure of some of the
largest banks in existence. Police struggled to control the crowds
and keep the peace. As Jonathan ran, something in the corner of his
eye caught his attention. A figure was free falling from an
adjacent building. The friends pushed through the crowds, inching
toward the Exchange.

As he yelled out instructions when they
reached the trading floor, Aryl and Caleb struggled to hear him
over the roar of the frenzied crowd. Fear and panic reigned inside
the Exchange. There was complete chaos as hundreds of men ran from
pit to pit to scream orders. Sweat-drenched and red-faced men
grabbed handfuls of their hair, clutched their chests and a few
collapsed to the floor. Frantic brokers too preoccupied with
certain doom to care about their colleagues simply jumped over
them. The lower the numbers sank, the louder they screamed. As if
they could push the numbers back up by will and volume. The whole
world was selling; no one was buying. When the bell rang, a sea of
heads collectively turned to see what the closing numbers were.
Silence fell as the ticker tapes were still catching up; the
numbers kept sinking. It was over. The floor erupted in desperate
cries, screams of agony and men running in every direction.

Jonathan stood motionless amidst the chaos,
staring blankly, and then slowly sank to his knees.

They took the keys to his cars and office
building immediately, informing him that everything he owned was
now under bank lien. He didn’t remember leaving the Exchange,
didn’t remember how long they had walked, and didn’t recognize the
pair of sad suits they followed into the speakeasy. He wasn’t even
sure how long they had been there.

He lifted his head and looked around. Aryl
stared at his empty glass with no expression, and Caleb rested his
head on his folded arms. There were many men in suits. No
respectable businessman needed to be in a place like this unless he
was hiding. A lot of them held their heads in their hands with the
same looks of disbelief and horror. A grown man sat unashamedly
crying in the corner. They were all there for the same reason. They
represented the casualties of this day; their possessions to be
auctioned, their homes to be sold, their bank accounts to be
seized, their jobs literally vanished. They were now among the
poorest in New York City, and they had to go home and tell their
families. They were all desperately trying to figure out exactly
how to do that.

He had the beginnings of a plan forming in
his mind. He just had to sound confident and not shaken. He started
to pull something together and mentally rehearsed what he would say
until he could recite it without a hint of emotion. He glanced at
his watch, finished his last shot, and signaled to the others.

“Let’s go home and tell them,” he sighed.
“Then we’ll meet at my house to figure out what we’re going to
do.”

∞∞∞

Outside, the air was bitterly cold as they
hurried through the crowds of downtown New York. They tried not to
look at the newspaper headlines or into the panicked faces all
around them. The long walk to the wealthier residential district
gave them more time to think. They broke away at the last cross
street without more than a nod to each other. Jonathan kept
straight, Caleb left and Aryl right.

The Garrett house was one of several mansions
surrounded by short, wrought iron fences. It was quieter here. He
slowed his pace a little and did a final rehearsal of what he would
say. He paused at the door, closed his eyes, and took a deep
breath. A trembling hand turned the knob, and he saw Ava in the
parlor listening to the radio with a deeply concerned look on her
face. She knew. She just didn’t know quite how bad it was. Three
servants huddled across the grand parlor, anxiously awaiting news.
Her head snapped up when she heard the door.

“Jonathan!” She reached to embrace him, and
he pressed her body into his in a vice-like hold.

“I was so worried! Where have you been?” she
asked. She pulled back to search his eyes for answers. “What
they’re saying on the radio. Is it true?”

He hesitated, painfully aware of three sets
of eyes upon him from across the room. He removed Ava’s arms from
his neck and made his way over to them. He spoke quietly for a
moment, explaining and apologizing. Maura, the Irish housemaid,
gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. Sven, the Russian chef,
nodded with a solemn expression of understanding. Charles, the
house butler, said nothing and showed no expression. Jonathan
removed his wallet and gave them what pay he owed them for the
week. They turned in silence to gather their things as they joined
the suddenly unemployed.

Jonathan turned toward Ava again when he was
sure they were alone. He sighed and pulled her close. He opened his
mouth to begin his speech but found himself mute. He frowned and
looked away before attempting again. His face was pained, eyes
narrowed, and brow furrowed. She realized it was worse than she had
thought.

“How bad is it, Jonathan?” she asked, visibly
bracing for bad news. He had come home before from bad days after
losing thousands of dollars, and things would be tense for a while
until everything shook out. However, it always shook out. They had
gotten through those times and come out on top in the end. How much
worse could this be? she wondered.

“Everything is gone,” he said quietly. “We
didn’t move in time. We–I, didn’t sell in time, there wasn’t any
time. It all happened so quickly. I’m sorry,” he whispered.

So much for my confident speech, he thought
with self-loathing. It took her a few minutes to process his words,
and she sat down numbly in a chair by the fireplace. He followed
and knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his. She was staring
over his shoulder trying to comprehend. Everything is gone echoed
in her mind. He didn’t say it was a setback or even a huge loss.
Everything is gone. Silent moments passed, save the rhythmic
ticking of the antique grandfather clock.

“Ava.” He frantically searched for something
to say. He had nothing in every sense of the word. The feeling of
failure was a crushing weight. He put his head down on their
entwined hands and took a deep, ragged breath. “Ava,” he exhaled.
She seemed to come back to the moment as her eyes focused on him.
She pulled her hands from his and placed them lightly on his head.
Sighing, she looked around the grand parlor: the expensive art, the
velvet drapes, the gilded mirrors, the imported rugs, and the plush
furniture.

“I always felt like this was too good to be
true,” she whispered. He wanted to tell her that everything would
be all right, that it would all work out, that he would fix the
whole mess, and not to worry. It would have all been lies.

“What are we going to do?” she asked with a
shaky voice.

“We’re, ah, going to get a plan together, I
think. Aryl and Caleb will be over later. We’ll figure something
out.”

Ava suddenly realized that their friends were
devastated as well.

“I was so stupid,” he whispered. “I was
stupid and now everyone is busted.” She leaned to rest her cheek on
his neck and stretched her arms out upon his back as if to
physically shield him from the fallout. They had no words of
comfort for each other as they tried to comprehend the magnitude of
their life’s destruction.

After a long, tense silence, Jonathan
startled at the hard pounding on the door.

“Jonathan! Open up. I need your help!”
Jonathan struggled to his feet and limped to the door, his legs
tingling from the prayer-like posture he had held for so long. He
opened it to a half-frozen Caleb, whose face held pain and panic.
“It’s Arianna. She’s gone. I’ve looked everywhere. You gotta help
me,” he panted.

Jonathan grabbed his arm and pulled him
inside. “What do you mean she’s gone?” Caleb took a shivering
breath before speaking.

“When I got home earlier, she was already in
a panic. She was crying, mumbling, and running all over the house,
trying to hide her jewelry. I got her calmed down after a while. I
thought she was in her right mind. I left her by the fireplace to
get Aryl, and then we were going to come over here. I was only gone
ten minutes. When we got back, she was gone. Some of her clothes
are missing and all of her jewelry. We’ve been looking for a
half-hour now, and Aryl told me to come get you.”

“Where’s Aryl now?” Jonathan asked as he
pulled on his coat.

“He and Claire are still out looking.”

“I’m going to go help Caleb,” Jonathan said,
turning to Ava. “You stay here where it’s warm.”

“No,” she said, reaching for her coat. “She’s
my friend. I’m going with you.” He resigned with a sigh.

“If you get too cold, you are coming home,”
he said firmly as he helped her into her fur. He handed Caleb
another of his coats, and he slipped it on gratefully as they
headed out into the cold

∞∞∞

It was fully dark now, and the wind blew
light snow flurries in all directions. They had no idea where
Arianna might have gone but started the search with a social club,
restaurant, and a ladies’ salon they knew she frequented. Aryl and
Claire caught up with them near Arianna’s favorite café.

Caleb paced while Jonathan flagged down a
policeman on horseback and explained the situation. He grimaced at
Caleb and shook his head.

“I sympathize, buddy, I really do. I’ll take
a description and name, but only to add her to a list of all the
other women who ran off today. We only found two, and they were at
the train station.”

Caleb’s head turned slowly toward Jonathan.
“She wouldn’t.” He knew she was fragile, vain, and needed security
like she needed to breathe. However, he hadn’t thought for a minute
that she would leave, that she didn’t love him enough to stay if
the money was gone.

∞∞∞

Jonathan watched these thoughts play out on
Caleb’s face as they made their way toward Grand Central Terminal.
The rest of them were under no illusions regarding Arianna’s
character, and it didn’t surprise them in the least when they
spotted her on a bench. She had on a black fur coat, held a second
fur over her arm and two bags stuffed to the gills set on each side
of her. Closer now, Caleb jogged toward her, nearly tripping on the
hem of Jonathan’s coat. Ava turned her face into Jonathan’s chest
as he pulled her close. He kissed the top of her head, his eyes
cast down. He thought briefly that Caleb should just let Arianna
go. She required expensive upkeep and was very unpredictable–surely
this wouldn’t work for long with a future as uncertain as theirs.
Aryl sat hard on a bench and reached for Claire, completely drained
from one of the most emotional days of his life.

“Arianna!” Caleb yelled from across the
loading platform. Her head whipped to the side, and she stood and
looked around for somewhere, anywhere, to run. When he reached her,
he grabbed her by the shoulders. “Arianna, what are you doing?” She
opened her mouth, but nothing intelligible came out. In disbelief,
he asked the obvious.