The black sooty tires of my cheap yellow auto Mobil scraped against the worn down dirt road of Butler Street, Philadelphia. As my car cruised through the city I took in the distained surroundings of the streets filled with monotonous people, slaving away at their uneventful lives. How I remember the times that I too was one of them. Always wanting something bigger, bolder and more superior. I came to transform my old life into something new. A less complexed version of my chaotic existence.
The car screeched to a halt outside a welcoming looking homestead with limbs of ivy climbing up the red brick walls. I sighed and slammed my car door then walked inside the petite house.
The house had a kitchen, dining room, 2 bedrooms and a bathroom. Although it was small it sooted my lifestyle perfectly. I checked the clock and realized that I would be late for my job at the bar bars. I picked up my fedora hat that was perched on an ancient looking wooden hatstand and marched back out of my new dwelling.
I briskly trotted out into the small but crowed bar bar shop.
"Walt, finally" boomed my college Matt Fisher who was one of those people that could never seem to speck quitter than a howler.
"Sorry I'm late" I said apologetically "I just moved into a new house"
"Oh of course you did, I forgot" he yelled. I winced away trying not to make it to obvious
"You're first customer is a man named Jack Hilton, he's rich so do a good job" he loudly said winking at me. I nodded and walked over to a man about the age of 30 and quite attractive.
"Hello I'm Walter Jackson" I said holding out my hand. The man looked at me with a sort of inquisitiveness shining in his eyes.
"Jack Hilton" he replied shaking my hand "I ah usually have a man named, dam what's it again oh yes Edger to cut my hair" he commented as I went to reach for my scissors
"Oh yes I know of him" I clarified "he's ill" I then realised what I was supposed to be doing. Something about this man made me fell distracted "right so um how would you like your hair" I spoke
"Just a trim thanks" said Jack looking in the mirror in front of him
"So where do you come from" I asked trying to start a convocation
"I'm from New York city" he announced "I came all the way down to Philadelphia to find a good bar bars, not a single resemble one in new York"
"I'll try to do a good job then" I smiled as I started to clip away the stray hairs
We talked for a little while until I fished chopping away at his blonde lochs
"I'm having a party on Saturday night do you want to come?" asked Jack eagerly
"Oh ah sure" I replied thankful that it would be one less Saturday evening I would be spending alone.
"I'm in the phone book just call me up and I'll give you the address" he was happily chatting "you can meet my best man William and his fiancée Victoria"
"Sounds good" I said removing the raven coloured cloche from around his shoulders revealing his striped jacket and tie.
"You're done" I laughed patting him on the back. Jack got up from the red set
"I'll see you on Saturday then Walt" he said pulling me into a gruff embrace
"You sure will" I smiled "nice meeting you Mr Hilton"
"Please call me Jack" his eyes twinkled. He then took out a 100 dollar bill, slammed it on a desk and marched out of the door making the golden bell shrill loudly.
I watched him go. I have often spend my days pondering the weave of life and how a series of events can turn your life round completely. Its funny how one day you could be out at the shops then a bomb might blow up your house and you would have to move somewhere else. After that you might happen to meet a lovely lady and end up marrying her latter on. And just to think if the bomb had never gone of you would have most likely never met your wife. I felt like meeting jack was one of those moments that would miraculously change my life although I was not yet sure how this would happen. I guess I would have to wait till Saturday night.
It was Friday evening and I was curled up in my white loveseat reading a book that should have been interesting but was not because my mind was preoccupied by the vivid image of Jack. I had no idea what I was supposed to wear tomorrow considering the fact that I owned nothing fancier than a humble black bowtie. I put the book down and went to my small bedroom. It looked more like a room mad for a bed to be put in and was now no more room for anything else except a few dull painting that would have meant nothing to anyone else but meant something to me because they belonged to my late grandfather, but the room was by no means a 'bedroom' but a room for a bed. I squeezed round the side of the big beautiful bed, to a small cupboard that I could only manage to open slightly just so I could peer inside and have a look at the few clothes I had collected over many years. I decided that I should just go with a plan old tuxedo. I wondered into the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea. As I put the kettle on the stove a flash of red caught my eye. I squinted out the small window into black night. I saw a slim girl in her mid-twenties sitting in my front lawn and digging a stick into my green grass. I frowned and walked outside to where she sat. She looked up and as I saw her more clearly I saw that she was very beautiful. Her hair was long red and curly and her eyes were a beautiful deep green with a melancholy look about them
"Hello" she said softly "my names Rose Dawson" she held out her pale hand to me. I shook it slowly