The train rattled along the track, crossing the border into Iowa. Outside the sun shone and the farmland rushed by, inside was a different situation. In one of the cars sat a collection of traveling salesmen, some smoking, some drinking, a handful playing cards and mostly ignoring the conversation being bandied around the car in regards to whether or not to give credit to customers like the stores in the East were doing. Many were firm on the fact that they would only ever take cash for the merchandise while a couple felt that in order to continue business in the East they would have to begin giving credit. One blond at the card table would glance up occasionally, shake his head and go back to the game.
"You can bicker all you want, but it's different than it was!" One of the men was saying.
A black-haired man, shook his head firmly, "No it's not. But you've got to know the territory you're covering."
"People want things faster, that's why credit's so big. We have to give it or we'll go under, surely you see that, Azazel."
The black-haired man shook his head again, "Credit's big because people want things faster, but how are you going to give them it and still get the money? We're not stores, we're salesmen. We get the money, they get the product, everyone goes home happy. You just have to know the territory and who you're selling to."
One of the older men who had been half paying attention to the debate finally cut in, "Have any of you heard of a fellow called 'Summers'?"
The name was murmured around the car, even the men at the card game glancing up and shaking their heads. Azazel seemed the only other man who had. One of them finally voiced their thoughts, "No. Who is he?"
Azazel scowled, "He's a fake and he doesn't know the territory."
"What's his line?" Apparently he'd gone unheard.
"Never worried about his line," came the rapid response, "also doesn't know the territory." This was said with a pointed glance at Azazel.
"Doesn't know the territory?" One of the men at the card table turned finally in surprise.
The man telling about Summers shook his head, "Doesn't know about the territory and never worries about his line or anything else."
"What's he sell?"
"He's a music man."
"He's a what?"
"A music man. He sells clarinets to the kids, and trombones and drums and piccolos and uniforms even, with big red stripes and gold braids. The works!"
Azazel watched the conversation, shaking his head as another one of the salesmen got up and poured another drink, "Well, I don't know much about bands, but I do know you can't make a living selling big trombones, no sir. Mandolin picks, perhaps and here and there a Jew's harp."
"No, the fellow sells boys' bands. I don't know how he does it but he lives like a king and when the man dances, certainly boys, what else? The piper pays him!"
"But he doesn't know the territory!" Azazel protested, swearing under his breath as the train stopped and a suitcase came down on his shoulder. The card game wrapped up and the blond man at the table gathered up his winnings as the conductor came through to announce their arrival in River City, Iowa.
Waiting until the conductor had exited the car, Azazel rose, "Alright, if you all are through, I'll tell you about Alexander Summers."
The one who'd been going on about the guy looked up, arching an eyebrow, "You really know Alex Summers?"
"I've never seen him in my life! But I'll tell you this much, he's giving every one of us a black eye. After he's worked a town over the very next salesman automatically gets tarred and feathered and sent out of town on a rail!" That garnered a laugh. Azazel's eyes narrowed and he approached the man, "You think that's funny?" He rolled up his pant leg, "Wait til it happens to you. The hair never grows back."
"But why should he get rode out of town on a rail?" One of the younger salesmen asked.
Azazel turned to face him, "Because, in order to sell band instruments and uniforms he's got to promise to teach those kids how to play. Only problem is he doesn't know one note from another!" The blond man from the card game quietly rose, stashing the last of the money into his pocket before shrugging his coat on. "He can't tell a bass drum from a pipe organ!" Azazel was continuing to rail as the man lifted his suitcase down. The train was making final preparations to leave the station. "I'll catch up with that swindling two-bit thimble-rigger and when I do I'm going to let everyone know everything about—"he broke off to apologize to the blond as the man slipped past him offering him a smile.
"Sure would like to be around when you catch up to that fellow."
"Me too," one of the older travelers agreed.
"Well, it won't be on this trip," Azazel conceded. "Even the great 'Professor' Summers wouldn't be dumb enough to try to sell to these stubborn Iowans."
The blond put his hat on, speaking finally, "Gentlemen, you've intrigued me. I think I may have to give Iowa a try."
Azazel arched an eyebrow, "I don't believe I caught your name, stranger."
"Don't believe I threw it," the blond grinned, lifting his bag as he opened the door. "Professor Alex Summers" was emblazoned across the suitcase in bold white letters. He slipped out quickly before his presence could fully sink in. He stepped off the train as it started moving, hearing Azazel's shouts behind him. Now to find a hotel and figure out how to sell to this town.
G.C.G.E.D
Alex Summers pushed the hotel door open, stepping into the simply furnished foyer. He strolled over to the counter, leaning against it as he set down his large suitcase and adjusted his hat, "Excuse me? I believe this is the place to come to get a room for a while?"
The desk clerk glanced up, eyebrows shooting up at the sight of the man in front of him. "My, my, if it isn't Summers. What the hell are you doing all the way out here?"
Alex blinked, "Darwin? What am I doing here? What are you doing here? And with a legitimate job too."
"I found myself a gal, settled down. You look like you're still doing your whole traveling salesman gig, in which case I'm very curious as to what you're doing in a small, out of the way town in Iowa," Darwin replied, leaning against the wood counter and looking his old friend over.
"Figured I'd give Iowa a try. And it happened to be easier than dealing with the salesmen on the train."
"I don't even want to know what goes on in those oh-so-elite cars you guys commandeer," Darwin said with an eyeroll. "A change of scenery might do you good anyway. So, what are you running this time?"
"Back with the bands," came Alex's reply. "I find it works the best of the plans."
"How long you in for then?" Darwin asked, brown vest blending in with the dark decor of the hotel lobby.
"Three weeks." Alex adjusted his cream colored jacket, motioning to the register, "So, do you have a room?"
"Sure we do. Let me guess, you want the best one huh?" Darwin asked, reaching back for a key. "But I'm confused by that three weeks thing... you seriously think you can pull off a scam for three whole weeks? This way if you would," he continued, leading Alex up a set of stairs.
"As good as you've got." Alex picked up his bag and followed his friend, "And, yeah I can pull it off for three weeks. I have to. The uniforms take that long to arrive."
"You've added uniforms now?" Darwin asked and shook his head. "You're out of your mind if you think you can last in a little town like this for three weeks."
"There's a music teacher, I assume?"
Darwin paused for a moment and nodded. "Sure there is. Why, you going after them?"
"I'm back in the band business. I have to, remember?"
"What are you planning to do then?" Darwin asked, opening a door. "Here you go, our best room. Overlooks our general store and has a full size bed. Even has its very own dresser."
Alex's brows rose at the room, "Wow, it really is a small town." He glanced at his friend, "I need to know if there's anything I can use to stir up the need for a boy's band. I'll deal with the music teacher as it comes."
"Yeah, you'll be in the lap of luxury here. Well, nothing much goes on here but, well, you might get some leverage out of the new pool table."
"New pool table? There's never been one before?"
"Nope. Just billiards," Darwin said, adjusting the curtains.
"Well, that could work..." The salesman opened his suitcase, carefully setting his things to the side on the bed, "Yes, I think that might just work."
Darwin rolled his eyes again. "I can hardly wait," he drawled. "At least you'll bring some excitement to this place."
"Oh, that's the other thing. You see that music teacher, you let me know, hm?"
"Yeah, I'll be sure to point the music teacher out," Darwin said with a smirk. "Shall I assume you'll take your usual tack?"
"Something like. We'll see."
"Good luck," Darwin said, tossing him the keys. "I'm sure I'll see you downstairs shortly."
Alex caught the keys, offering the other man a grin, "Yeah, just got to freshen up a bit before wreaking havoc on your town."
Darwin laughed, opening the door back up. "Yeah, freshen up for that. You're going to wreak havoc alright. You know, that should be your nickname."
"Too obvious, then."
"Right. Maybe among friends. See you soon, Havoc," Darwin said, still grinning before closing the door.
Alex laughed, shaking his head before finishing with the final touches for that night.
G.C.G.E.D
Alex glanced into the billiard parlor window at the pool game currently in session before looking around and spotting shopkeeper sweeping the front step of the store across the street, "Is this your store, sir?" He received a nod and quickly started in, "Well, either you're closing your eyes to a situation you do now wish to acknowledge, or you are not aware of the caliber of disaster indicated by the presence of a pool table in your community." Before the man could turn away again, Alex continued, "Ya got trouble, my friend, right here in your lovely River City. Why sure I'm a billiard player, I'm mighty proud to say it. I consider that the hours I spend with a cue in my hand are golden. They help you cultivate horse sense and a cool head and a keen eye."
His eyes lit as he noticed others starting to gather around, he was in his element now, "But just as I say, it takes judgment, brains, and maturity to score in a balkline game." The salesman looked at the small gathering of men around him as he continued, "I say that any boob can shove a ball in a pocket. And they call that sloth. The first big step on the road to the depths of degradation. First, medicinal wine from a teaspoon, then beer from a bottle!" He turned to speak to the mothers who were gathering as well now, "And the next thing you know, your son is playing for money in a pinch-back suit. And he'll be listening to some big out of town fella, hearing him tell about horse-race gambling. Not a wholesome trotting race, but a race where they set down right on the horse!" He suppressed his grin as he led them back across the road toward the billiard parlor. From the looks of horror that some of the people were wearing he had them hook, line, and sinker.
"Now, friends let me tell you what I mean. You've got six pockets in the table which mark the difference between a gentlemen and a bum. I warn you that all week long your River City youth will be frittering away their noontime, suppertime, chore time too!" He shook his head at the tragedy of it all, "All they care about is getting that ball in that pocket, never mind getting dandelions pulled, or the screen door patched or the beefsteak pounded. Never mind pumping any water 'til your parents are caught with the cistern empty on a Saturday night and that's trouble!" Alex watched as some parents with their children in tow joined the crowd. Perfect.
"I'm only thinking of the children peeking in the pool hall window after school, look, folks! I can see this trouble coming your way, and I've seen it happen before! Now, I know you all are the right kind of parents, not like the ones where I've seen this tragedy occur." He motioned them nearer, "Do you want to know what kinds of conversations go on while they're loafing around that hall? They're trying out Bevo, trying out tailor-mades like cigarette fiends!" One of the mother's grip on her son's shoulders tightened as he continued, "One fine night, they leave the pool hall, heading' for the dance at the Armory! Libertine men and Scarlet women! And Ragtime! It's shameless music that'll grab your son and your daughter with the arms of a jungle animal instinct! Friends, the idle brain is the devil's playground!" The crowd started murmuring among themselves, this was going far better than he'd expected. He gave them a few minutes before speaking up again.
"Mothers of River City! Heed the warning before it's too late! Watch for the tell-tale sign of corruption! The moment your son leaves the house, does he," he scanned over the kids, spotting something he could use, "re-buckle his knickerbockers below the knee? Is there a dime novel hidden in the corn crib? Is he starting to memorize jokes from," here he tilted his head to one side, reading the spine of a book that one of the boys was carrying, "Captain Billy's Whiz Bang?" The book was quickly confiscated.
"Are certain words creeping into his conversation? Words like 'swell?' And 'so's your old man?' Well, if so my friends, you've got trouble!" He glanced toward where he could see Darwin in the back of the crowd, checking to see if the music teacher had been spotted yet. "That game with the fifteen numbered balls is a devil's tool!"
Finally Darwin's entire posture changed, and he pointed to a tall man walking down the street. Brushing his brown hair out of his eyes, having long since fought against the gel and won, the man considered where Alex was standing in front of a crowd. Shaking his head, he turned and walked away, Darwin gesturing after him.
Alex frowned in confusion at that, but quickly finished his speech and slipped through the crowd. He left them still talking about the danger the pool hall was to their children as he pursued the music teacher. Darwin smirked after the pair, more entertained than he should have been, before turning back to hear the citizens of the town gossip.
The music teacher meanwhile was striding with a lanky gait, a couple books under one arm. Eventually he noticed someone behind him, glancing back a couple times in confusion. Alex touched the brim of his hat to the other man, trying to sort out which tack to take with this. He was going to have a few succinct things to say to Darwin about details later. The music teacher frowned at him, before picking his pace up slightly.
Alex turned a corner and circled the block quickly, not quite running but close. He slowed down again, coming around the corner in front of the music teacher and touching the brim of his hat again. The tall man drew back in surprise, doing a double take. Since he wasn't wearing a hat at the time, he nodded to the other man instead, still frowning.
The smaller man passed him, dropping a kerchief once he'd passed, "I say, did you drop your—"
"No."
He turned, "Didn't we meet in—"
The tall man blinked, adjusting his glasses. "No."
"I'm certain I know you from—"
The music teacher frowned. "I'm sure I don't."
"Well, I'll only be in town a short while. Perhaps—"
"No," the frown only became more pronounced. "I don't think so. Good night," he said, having reached his door.
"No chance of seeing you again, then?"
The teacher paused. "Maybe," he admitted, before closing the door in Alex's face. Alex blinked at the closed door before shaking his head and returning to the hotel.
Raven looked up as the house door opened, "There you are, Hank."
The music teacher smiled at his cousin. "Hello, Raven. Here I am. How has your day been?"
She returned the smile, turning back to where she was setting the table, "Well enough. Sean's due in any minute. How was your day?"
"Fairly normal," he replied, setting his books down and running a hand through his hair. "Lost my hat to a student, and nearly broke down on another. Also, was strangely followed home tonight."
"Followed home?" Raven frowned, brushing a lock of blonde hair back behind her ear, "By who?"
"Well, not so much followed home as... no, that's what it was. Some man, I think he's new here. First I saw him he was attempting to convince the town the evil of a pool table," Hank replied. "Can I help with anything?"
"You could get the soup off the heat. Did you get his name at least?"
"No," Hank admitted, going to get the soup. "Do you want this in a bowl?"
"Yes, you know where the tureen is. And why not?" She located the napkins and glasses.
"I don't know," he replied. "He seemed... sleazy. Besides if nothing else it seems like he'll be around and public. And he asked me if I dropped my handkerchief."
Her brows rose sharply, "He asked what?"
"If I'd dropped my handkerchief. He followed me home, ran around the block, and asked me that."
Raven blinked a couple of times before laughing, "You have got to be kidding."
"I'm not," Hank said, glancing down as he sat the soup on the table.
"Well, it's amusing if nothing else."
"I'm glad you're finding this amusing," Hank said, voice slightly acid.
"Oh come now, Hank. It's hardly that bad. What's so wrong?"
"I don't know," he said with a shrug, finding the soup serving spoon. "Something about him bothers me. When was Sean supposed to be back tonight?"
Raven shrugged slightly, "Any time."
The words were barely out of her mouth before the door opened and the twelve-year-old redhead came in and started for the stairs.
Hank blinked after him. "Sean!"
The boy came to a stop mid-way up the stairs, turning to face his older brother, but not saying anything.
"At least stay down to dinner?" Hank asked with a sigh. Sean glanced toward where he could see the door to his room, but came back down the stairs. Biting the inside of his lip, Hank glanced over at Raven. "At least there are no students over tonight," he murmured, making sure the last of the food was finished. Raven nodded her agreement as Sean took his seat at the table. The three of them sat down to their normal, quiet, dinner.
G.C.G.E.D
Alex entered the hotel, frowning as he moved over to where Darwin was behind the counter again, "You forget to tell me something, dear friend of mine?"
"Did I?" Darwin asked, voice pitched sweetly.
"Yes, you did. Like, perhaps that the music teacher in this town is male?"
Darwin arched a brow, grinning. "Is that going to be a problem?"
"Well, no. But I might have tried a different tack if I'd known."
Darwin just shook his head. "So, think he'll be an easy mark for you then?"
Alex shrugged, "We'll see. What can you tell me about him?"
"Well, he's also the town librarian," Darwin replied. "He likes books."
"Perfect. He likes books." The con-artist spoke dryly, "Anything else?"
"... He likes books a lot?" Darwin offered. "Look, he's in the library and he teaches music lessons. He's not terribly sociable."
"Any friends or relatives? I'm asking for anything you know about this man."
"He lives with his cousin and younger brother. The brother has a stutter, so he doesn't talk much if ever, and Raven... well, there're still stories about the time she attacked a suitor with a frying pan."
"...Attacked a suitor with a frying pan?"
"Something like. Rumors spread fast in these small towns, but I think that's the actual story."
"Huh, well, so I'll avoid the cousin then."
"Might be best. The brother is possible, but you'd have to do it subtly."
"Believe it or not, I can be subtle."
"That is something I'll believe when I see. Also, I meant more be subtle from his older brother. Hank's a bit on the side of overprotective."
"Good to know. I'll see what I can do there then. First things first though, I need to get backing for the band." He glanced toward the door to the hotel, "You folks have any sort of get together scheduled anytime soon?"
"Sure, there's some... show or another. Our mayor is a fan of such spectacles."
"Perfect. You remember how we used to do it to get the folks calling for the band? Just make sure the pool table is mentioned and let the fire light itself, but I'll need your help with it."
Darwin rolled his eyes again. "I suppose for old time's sake I can rig something up for you."
"I'll pay you for your help of course."
"Of course you will," Darwin informed him.
"Well, I need to go figure out what I'm doing about your music teacher, so I'll see you in the morning, hm?"
Darwin snorted. "Yeah, good luck on that."
Alex rolled his eyes, shaking his head and heading upstairs.
Requisite disclaimer: we own nothing, we're borrowing the characters and the storyline.
Meadowlark says: Hello folks! We hope you enjoy this story, we've done a bit of rearranging of relationships, which is already visible in this chapter what with Raven and Hank and Sean all being related. There will be another instance of this appearing in the next chapter, but after that the characters are set where they're cast. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!
Your author, Victoriousscarf adds: Welcome to another story! One that Alex and Hank get to actually take over and run wild with. Now, a few notes. This story takes place in the beginning of the 1900s, say, 1915 or so in a rural area of the United States. However, to keep the story intact we're ignoring the periods views on homosexuality and even race, as Darwin is married to a white woman which would probably have been a great deal less likely at the time. Also, to keep the basic story intact, characters such as Shaw are going to be much less dangerous. That all being said, welcome to the story, we hope you enjoy, and we give reviews the best homes possible! Cheers!