1922 Short Story
Catherine Addison
A2
The year was 1920; all was quiet on the Irish countryside, except for the soft melody of the bird's song. I glanced back at the small cottage that had been my home for eighteen years for the very last time. For a brief moment I thought back on all of the memories that had taken place in that house and for a moment, I regretted what I was about to do. Then the reality hit me that things could never be the same as they were in my childhood. There was nothing here for me anymore. My older brother and father were off at war, fighting the British, and my younger brother was in the same wretched country, attending a boarding school that he received a generous scholarship to. I henceforth purged those thoughts from my mind, and silently continued on my journey
It seemed as if this war stirred up the rebellious spirit that was always inside of me, but was always being suppressed by my loyalty to my family; but now that I am eighteen, and only have a distant mother currently at home, I wanted to experience something new. All of these feelings and the desire to be a part of this new age of entertainment and independence drove me to take the little money I had saved up and board the first boat to New York City.
In an effort to assimilate myself into the culture, on the boat ride, I worked on getting rid of my heavy Irish accent in place of a sophisticated American one. By the end of the trip, the other passengers began to avoid me, wondering why I would want to leave behind the culture that we were all so proud of. Well the answer to that question was complicated. Sometimes one must give up their ties to the past when they desperately want to forget it.
When our boat docked in America, all of us had to go through Immigration. I anxiously awaited my turn in line, and the officer asked me my name. I almost blurted out my real name, Corianne McCarthy, then I instantly decided that if I was going to leave my past self behind, I might as well change everything about me, including my name.
"Oh… my name…" I blurted, in a rather convincing American accent "Reno Cartwright".
The immigration officer was not phased at my nervousness at her asking my name, people must change their names all the time when they come to America, either that, or she didn't want to bother with it. She asked me some more questions and wrote down some more things until I was finally allowed into New York City, and from that moment forward, my life would change forever.
Nothing too terribly interesting happened in the next two years. I moved into a nice apartment with a few girls from small towns in America, and one real New Yorker, Judy Dilmount. She taught all of us the ropes, and was able to get me a job as a dancer and singer at a speakeasy in downtown Manhattan. It was a nice gig, paid very well, and I got to meet some very lovely people. I wasn't so used to the constant smell and consumption of alcohol as there was going on there; but after a while, I got used to it. That didn't mean I got drunk all the time like our clients, I still held on a little to the morals my family had always instilled in me.
Now, one night in 1922, wasn't your run of the mill night at the speakeasy, at the time I didn't realize this, but I was going to meet the man of my dreams that night. I was singing, which was a rare thing then, because the customers didn't like me as much as Mandy, but she was sick and I had to fill in for her. Now she was some eye candy, so none of the men were paying attention, just trying to get more drunk than usual, to compensate for the loss of their precious Mandy. As I stared out into the crowd, one man did catch my eye, and he was the only one watching me. Dressed in a black pinstripe suit with a matching fedora, he was clearly wealthy. I couldn't tell from the other side of the room but it seemed as if he was blonde and was maybe wearing glasses.
Once the set was over, the other girls went to the dressing room to change and primp, preparing to see if any of the men who showed up were worth talking to. This was our usual ritual; we would scan the crowd during the show to see if there were any men who were sober enough to talk, that we could flirt with.
I figured that the glittery black number that I was wearing for my song, would be good enough for this blondie, so I sauntered over to him, and wrapped my arm around his shoulder. "I noticed that you couldn't take those big baby blues off of me during my song, I'll take it that you enjoyed it."
He laughed, and ordered two glasses of champagne. "It was quite beautiful, you have a stunning voice."
"Thanks cutie," I winked. "I haven't seen you around here before, what's your name?" I asked, taking a sip of my champagne
"Alfred," He kissed my hand. "And yours, my dear?"
"Reno, Reno Cartwright"
The conversation that night went on for hours; we talked about almost everything, but managed to dance around the topics of his job and my family. He was a very charming and humorous man. I learned that he was wealthy, from a family business, that he had a brother who didn't want to be a part of this family business, got married, and moved to Canada, and that he was currently learning how to fly a jet. He agreed to come to the speakeasy more often, as long as I was singing. For some reason, my boss decided to make me the headline singer shortly after this, and I brought in more customers than Mandy ever dreamed of; but the only one I cared about was Alfred. After a few months of him coming to the speakeasy and flirting with me afterwards, we were going steady. He flew me around New York, we went to movies, and I showed him my favorite places to walk in Central Park. It seemed as if nothing could go wrong, until one night he showed up at the speakeasy with a familiar face at his side.
When I finished my set, I went over to see Alfred, ignoring his friend completely. I gave him a small peck on the check and asked him with my sweetest smile. "Did you like the show, darling?"
He kissed me back, "Of course, love, it was marvelous and you look beautiful." He then gestured to Arthur, who was sitting awkwardly on the other end of the table, "Reno, this is my friend and business partner, Arthur. He's over here from England to help me with a… transaction."
Arthur smirked at me, taking a sip of his drink, "Actually Al, I do believe I have met your little girlfriend."
"Oh really, and how is that… this is your first time in America, isn't it?"
"Well yes, this is true but you see Al, she's my sister."
"Wait. The one you left… in Ireland?"
I had enough of this. I wasn't going to let my stupid little brother completely tarnish the new image I had created for myself since I moved here.
"If you don't shut yer mouth right now I swear I'll-" I instantly realized how loudly, and how badly my accent could be heard in that sentence.
"Reno… What's going on… why have you been lying to me all this time? Did you really think I would care where you came from?"
Before I could respond, Arthur decided to butt in once more "Reno…? What I ridiculous name." he rolled his eyes. "Her real name is Corianne."
"That too! I can't believe you! It's like I don't even know you!"
"Don't be like that, Al! It's just a name, and a place, it's not who I am. I'm still me. And don't pretend like you're the only one who hasn't been lying here. For all the time I've known you, you've danced around what it is you do for a living, how on earth do you even get all that money? Don't you dare get mad at me for having secrets when I know you have secrets of your own."
Al sighed and took my hand to lead me out the door, to the alley outside the speakeasy, with Arthur following slowly behind. "I know I should have told you sooner, it's would just be far too dangerous for you to know; but since I want to be serious with you, it's time you knew. I'm a bootlegger, since my father died, and his fortune with him, it's been the only way for me to provide for my mom. I'm not very proud of it, but it's what I have to do. I never told you because I wanted to protect you, and if you want to leave me I completely understand."
I stood there in shock, letting this sink in, it all made sense. I knew Al wasn't a bad guy, he was just doing what he needed to do to survive; but oddly enough, my natural reaction wasn't even directed at Al at all.
I then began to yell at the figure who had been listening in our whole conversation. "So you've been in on this the whole time too? You've been giving alcohol to these bootleggers? That's your fancy British job you've been bragging about? You could get yourself bloody killed? Are you crazy? You know what… forget it. You deserted us; you can do whatever you want with your life."
Arthur and Alfred stood there for a moment, completely shocked at my outburst. Arthur ended up shaking his head and walking away while Al wrapped his arms around me. "I cannot even begin to describe how sorry I am; I had no idea how upset this would make you."
"Well of course it makes me upset! Knowing that the man I've grown to love and my baby brother could be killed for what, some drinks? I know it's your living, but it's dangerous." I was so livid, I was screaming.
"Reno, I know you're upset, but you need to be quiet, someone's going to hear –"
A tall muscular figure snuck up behind Al and pressed the barrel of his gun to his head "Well you certainly are right about that Mr. Jones…"
I gasped as I felt a gun being pressed to my head. "This must be his competition…" I thought to myself, as I attempted to struggle out of the grasp of the man holding my arms behind my back. He hit me with the barrel of his gun as the leader of the group spoke to Alfred in a low, gruff voice. "Now, Mr. Jones, you will give us full rights to sell our alcohol at this speakeasy and all of the other ones that you sell to or else we'll shoot you and your little girlfriend."
Now of course, while Al was silently contemplating what the best thing to do in this situation would be. I did what I thought would be the best thing and screamed as loud as I possibly could in the hopes that someone would hear me; and someone did.
In what seemed like a matter of seconds, Arthur came around the corner, with a horde of policemen, who beat down and arrested the thugs that were trying to kill us, and blackmail Alfred.
As it turned out, Arthur wasn't really working for a company that sold alcohol to American bootleggers; he was part of the British spy force that was investigating such companies. He was supposed to be investigating Alfred but ended up becoming good friends and was hoping that my finding out about what Al did would make him stop bootlegging; and in a way, it did, just not in the way that Arthur expected.
But this caused the most dangerous bootlegging gang in New York City to be put behind bars. It caused a realization in Al, that a life of crime wasn't the way to provide for his family, no matter how much money it gave him. This also brought my family back together, after Irish independence, Arthur and I decided to move back in with our parents for a while. I of course brought Al; they were all dying to meet him. We had a wonderful time, and my whole crazy Irish family loved him.
On the boat back home, I was deep in thought, lost in the memory of the first time I came to America. When Alfred tapped me on the shoulder and I turned around to find him on one knee with a gorgeous diamond ring in his hands. "Corianne, will you marry me." For what I thought was a few moments, but was hours to him, I just stood there and smiled at him, all words having escaped me. "Please say something, I kind of already bought us an apartment…" and he smiled that big goofy grin. I then said yes and leapt into his arms, as I continued on the boat ride that for the second time, would change my life.