Chapter 2 - Julie
The tiny figure in the pink gauze skirt danced, her hands held out on both sides. She whirled about on her toes. As she danced, a music box tinkled and played a song. She whirled and spun, twirling in one direction in a dance that would make anyone else dizzy.
As she was whirling, she saw two huge blue eyes staring at her. The face they belonged to smiled. The dancer was always happy to see that smile.
The little girl with the blue eyes put down her music box on the dresser and continued to stare at it. She loved the music box and its lovely tinkling music. The tiny figure was so pretty. The girl wanted to be just like her. The girl stood on her toe and did a pirouette. She whirled until she became dizzy. Then she lay on the bottom of the bed and closed her eyes, her feet dangling, feeling the exhilarating sensation of being dizzy.
"Julia, where are you? Your father wishes your presence in the dining room." came a voice from the bottom of the stairway, outside of her door. "Come down here immediately. It's dinner time." It was the butler, Chambers.
The girl with the blue eyes opened them suddenly and jumped up. She ran downstairs and almost bumped into her father, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs, his hands on his hips, frowning.
"Get a move on, child, hurry up!" he said. He was always impatient and never had much time for his children.
Julie, at eight years old, had never been to school. Her mother had her tested at age five and it was thought, because she could not speak, that she was mentally handicapped and would not understand anything that was taught in school. A tutor had been retained for Julie's little brother Denny, for it was thought that he was quite above normal intelligence.
Julie's mother had never believed the doctors. She believed her daughter to be very intelligent. But of course only the doctor's opinions mattered in her husband's mind, when it came to putting Julie in school or getting a tutor. Julie's mother had taught her to read. Even though she could not pronounce the words, she could point to the words as her mother read them and her mother knew she could read.
Julie's father, Sterling Thomas Wilkins, was a man whose family had made a fortune and then lost much of it in the Crash of '29. Although not as wealthy as his father had been, Mr. Wilkins had built up the family's wealth again since taking over his father's business. He still had servants and much of the other trappings of wealth surrounding him even now in these years after the second world war.
"Charlie, Charlie, wake up, come on, get up…" The tramp felt someone shaking him. "Charlie, what are ye doing sleeping on a park bench again? Don't ye have no place to go? Are ye drunk?"
The tramp woke up from his dream. He blinked sleepily. He was laying in a foetal position on a bench under a tree, in the park. It was broad daylight. He looked up at the policeman who had awakened him. He sat up and ran his fingers through his curly grey hair and put his hat on straight.
"I ain't 'ad a drink since I dunno when, Bill." He made no move to leave the bench. The tramp was still a little groggy. The dream was strangely more real than the present moment. It took him a moment to shake the past off of himself.
"It's Officer O'Toole to you, Charlie," said the policeman. Then he said in a softer tone, "Charlie, listen," the cop put his hand on the little man's shoulder and turned him around. "It's not my idea…ye know, I'd let ye sleep in the park any time ye wanted, but it's against the law…you understand…and ye keep decent people away from the park…they don't want no dirty bums layin' about in the park"
"Yeah, I un'nerstan'!" said the tramp angrily. "Yer tryin' t' ge' all the bums off th' streets. I tole y' b'fore, I ain't no bum! I work fer me livin'… An' I ain't dirty!" He paused, feeling a little sorry for himself. "An' y' spend yer loife doin' things tha' all a sudd'n seem t' be agains' th' law…tha' don't make no sense! Why weren't them things croimes when I was young?"
"Now, Charlie, don't ye be getting' yer underwear in a bunch over it. You just stay outa trouble. I don't want to see you back in jail."
The tramp tipped his hat to the policeman, whom he knew was only doing his duty. He picked up his things and the policeman, who kept an eye on the old tramp, watched him walk off slowly with his odd splay-footed gait.