CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE: FRAGMENTS OF TIME
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'Lakewood, 21st of May 1923
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'Hi, 'Mistress of the Yielding Lasso'!
How has the month of May been treating you so far? I don't know how you can bear with so many things at the same time, with your life, your work, and now with preparations for the wedding…No, no, I give up. The highlife just isn't for me.
No big surprises on my end, all the same, you know, a bumpkin's life is so easy to predict. Sorry for the delay, I didn't get the chance to write to you any earlier, we've been very busy recently helping Jimmy. Mr. Cartwright recently bought some more meadows for his cattle but because it's in a direct neighborhood with the railways, he was obligated to build fences along the railway track. That was the only way to stop his cattle from uncontrollably walking onto the track. I don't know what it is about those cows with those tracks, by the way… They have plenty of fresh grass below, but no, they would still rather climb onto the camber and just lie down right across the tracks. It's as if they were loved resting on metal and wood…
Alright, okay, stop jumping up and down and yelling; I know you're dying to know. I was just getting to that.
Before she went out to see me, I spent an hour in the park, thinking about what happened in the treatment room. And do you know what? The more I thought about it, the more I began realizing what I have actually gone and done. I was so sure that if she really did decide to come out and see me, she would probably kill me on the spot… but yet, I was more terrified if she didn't even bother to turn up… You have no idea how many times I had thought about just walking away! But I couldn't. I just couldn't. Whether she would turn up and attempted to kill me or didn't bother to show up, I had to stay and find out. I couldn't take the risk that she would actually come and I wasn't there…
But as you know, she did turn up. Or, more like, she marched her way towards me. And yes, we talked. I guess it wasn't exactly 'talking' in the true meaning of the word… She actually threatened me like a schoolboy who needed to be scolded. I can't tell you word for word exactly what she said but it went something like this: "Who the hell do you think you are to make such a scene at my workplace? This is not some cheap theater, it is a hospital! I won't let anybody treat me in this way, do you hear me?" on and on, on and on, in the same style and the more angry she got, the more smiled. I have no idea why – I just had to. Something was pushing me to act like I didn't care.
You say she is an ice cube? You're wrong. She just needed the right spur, like a horse. I think that by being silent, I had found just the right one. "Well, will you speak up?" she had demanded impatiently as I got up. I told her "I don't know about you, but I was taught that civilized people first introduce each other first. And we yet have to do so. Tom Stevens." I had held my hand out to her and of course she just stood there, staring at me. "Tom Stevens." I insisted. I had this funny feeling inside me, as if there were two Toms: one barefacedly holding out his hand in greeting while the other me wanted to run away as fast and as far as he could, preferably straight back to Michigan and scream out in terror all the way there... My goodness… There's really something about her that can scare even the devil…
You would never understand the relief I felt when she had finally stretched out her hand too. "Flammy Hamilton, if you must." We sat on the bench and started chatting, awkwardly at first but later on, it was a little more relaxed. She asked me how it happened that I had never been to Chicago before. I simply told her that I had never been, then I asked her was Chicago the city of her birth place and if she had gone away to other cities. She wasn't really open at first but it seemed she had relaxed a bit. It wasn't much she said about herself – all I know is that she had volunteered to join the army in France. And again, one part of me wanted to say; 'fantastic!' but the other half, the rational one, made me shut up. There's nothing fantastic about the war and I didn't want her to dislike me for such a ridiculous comment...
The time passed way too fast to me and her little break was over too soon. "I have to get back to work." She said, and that's when I got up too. "I'm glad you came to see me." "Well," she replied "If I hadn't, you'd probably come back with another cut. I gave in to your emotional blackmail."
I'm glad that she didn't know that I was bluffing about cutting myself again. Those cuts hurt like crazy but it wasn't just about the pain itself. Throughout the years on the farm, I had been in minor accidents here and there, that's normal… but deliberately cutting your own skin is a different story and I don't think I would be able to do that ever again. I don't even understand how all these surgeons could do that on a daily basis…
Anyway, the cuts have almost healed by now, to my disappointment. Believe it or not but I wanted the scar to be visible so that it reminds me every day of that day. Silly, huh? But anyway, she was just too good at her stitching because the scars are all healed and have faded…
Well, that was it. When she got back to work, I left the hospital grounds and walked to the centre, as I mentioned to you that day, I wanted to buy something. I went to this curiosity shop. My father is a huge fan of Arthur Conan Doyle – so I bought him a pipe stylized like the one Sherlock Holmes had used. It's never left his sight since I gave it to him! You should see him, sitting at the table every evening with the smoldering pipe, just like the famous Detective!
As for Flammy – I have decided to write to her, whether she likes it or not. Tell me – is it possible to send the mail to the hospital's address? I, like an idiot, forgot to ask you before we left.
That's it for now. This must be the longest letter that I've written since I finished school. And all because of a girl…
Father sends his love for you and Annie
Tom'
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'Chicago, 28th of May 1923
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Hi Tom! You've finally replied! I'd thought you had forgotten.
As briefly as I can:
1. Ever since my birthday party, the world has been turned totally upside down. My job is as usual, nothing new to tell. Well, one thing is new. Just like I told you when you were here, I am now almost constantly assigned to the surgery teams. It is because of my specialization. That's what Dr Jacobs (let's call him my promoter) wanted from the very beginning: to have someone there to take some weight of anesthesia off the operating doctor's shoulders. I am the first one to do so but I already know that there will be more like me.
You have no idea how terrified I was when I administered the full anesthetic for the first time! Dr Jacobs assisted me at the beginning but now I'm on my own. It's not that complicated though - if you only know what to do. And thanks to this change, my life is more stabilized, because planned surgeries are scheduled only for the daytime; at night the hospital uses the surgery theaters only for emergencies. Good bye night shifts! I do have moments when I miss contact with the patients on the wards… I think I will even miss the specific silence during the night shifts…
2. Wedding preparation… well, let's put it this way: too many cooks spoil the broth.
The most important points we had to arrange were:
– 'WHEN' (attention, attention, we already know the exact date)
– 'WHAT' (the menu, the music, decorations, etc.)
– 'WHO' (again I ask: why so many guests?)
– 'WHERE' was skipped as it's clear that the reception will be held in the mansion.
There were no problems in choosing the menu. Choosing the musicians was little bit more painful, due to the differences in preferences (I will spare you the details for now, you will hear it for yourself later) but the last point, namely going through the list of the guests to be invited… That wasn't funny at all. Aunt Elroy didn't even want to listen to our wishes about having a private wedding reception. Gosh, the atmosphere was at boiling point! Finally we had made a compromise: the wedding ceremony will take place in the chapel, witnessed by the guests invited ONLY BY US (read as: closest friends & family, in this exact order) and reception will be held for the guests from both lists (I have no idea how this house is going to contain such a large number of people… I think we have to extend the mansion and fast!)
3. But of course I was waiting for the news about "Casanova's date with the Ice Cube"! I know I shouldn't but I was insanely curious about the results of your meeting with her already on that day. I have never seen her as lively as she was during her argument with you and I just knew something was up between you two! What you had only briefly mentioned at the station only made my curiosity even worse…and then you remained silent for two long weeks! How could you leave me hanging on for so long without knowing anything for sure?
Okay, I'm calm now. It's good to know the entire story. Sorry I tried to discourage you at the beginning – I thought you were only messing around. I just couldn't imagine Flammy being an object of your fascination, of anyone's fascination. You met her only briefly but I reckon it should be more than enough for you to understand that she doesn't seem the type… I say 'doesn't seem', not 'isn't' – because it was entirely my mistake to assume anything about her without having any certain knowledge about her. That day taught me not to categorize people.
I'm sure you would like to hear something about her? Well, I can't lie to you and say that she is all head over heels for you because she isn't. She is still her usual, cold self, the same old Flammy that she has always been. She doesn't walk around smiling to her thoughts nor has she all of a sudden become all romantic. She is still tough, I told you. I think I'm the only one who knows that there's a human under that cold shell. She doesn't show much emotions but she is just in total control of it, I think… She can't fool me anymore; I had seen how she reacted to you and your 'charms'. And I can see sometimes (once again, I'm the only one who is aware of what to look out for) how she stops by the window in the North-East corridor (for no reason at all!) and for a moment looks outside. Obviously, I don't follow her every step, for we have completely separate duties but I do get glimpses of her every now and then. She is just a woman after all, like all of us. A tough one but a woman nevertheless. I will never again call her 'Ice Cube'. Flammy is just Flammy now. And I wish you the best of luck with her. You're going to need it. Point for you she agreed to meet with you – but don't you go thinking that the fight has been won! Long way for you to go, big bro!
4. As for writing to her – not only could you write to her; you should! Getting to know her would be hard enough if you were living here – let alone that you both live so far apart! Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to sway you from your decision – I just want you to clearly see your position right from the start. I'm just concerned about what you said to me about your previous love interest, that she wanted to move to the city. The thing is – Flammy lives in the city. If you succeed with her, if it is to be – then it will be an issue; she's here and you're there, in Michigan. You need to be aware of that, remember.
For now, if you haven't changed your mind yet, write to her. I think you can use the hospital's address, just write Flammy Hamilton, Chief Nurse of Surgery Dept., St. Camille's Hospital, 2875 W 19th St, and S Marshall Boulevard, Chicago, IL... They always deliver our mail to the reception, we have "mail pigeon-holes" there (it's a shelf with all the staff's names on) But I can't guarantee you what she is going to do with your letter…
6. I was supposed to be brief, huh?
My love to you and your Father – Candy'
P.S. I read your letter once again, this time slower, to make sure that I didn't miss anything… and I have problems with keeping my jaw from falling onto my lap. Was it just me, or did you at some point compare Flammy to a horse?
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'Lakewood 4th of June 1923
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Hi Sis,
Along with this letter to you I also sent a postcard to Flammy. You know, just greetings and stuff, to remind her we had met. I'm not going to send love letters to her from the get go; I think it's better to gain her friendship and trust, step by step. What do you think?
As for your postscriptum… ha, ha, ha… you have noticed that well. You see, amongst our workers, we have one old, experienced cowboy. He is still a bachelor but had been a big womanizer in his time. And he always says that the women are very much like horses. There are some mild, easy to train horses, some hot-headed, wild ones, and some that are seemingly unresponsive to any command except in a cold, distant way. So, according to his theory, I guess you would be like a wild, hotheaded horse and Flammy is one of those cold ones. He (Lewis) is convinced that like with horses, women only need the right spur to behave in the way that men want them to. Well, he kinds of makes me laugh with his jokes…
By the way… Thank you for telling me how she is doing. You are right; being so far apart from each other won't be easy. I don't know why I always end up being interested in girls who prefer life in the city… maybe it's my fate, I don't know. But that's why I'm so grateful for the news about her. Even from afar, I can still imagine her, at work, next to that window that you mentioned… Silly, but I too sometimes look above the horizon – only facing South-West…
Somebody said once – if thoughts had wings, we would meet each other half way. The question is – do her thoughts really fly in a North-Easterly direction?
Tom'
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'Chicago 7th of June 1923
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Tom…
As I'm writing, the steam is still coming out my ears and I'm writing after quite a long time from calming down. Two things: call me a hot-headed horse again and you can forget about any news about Flammy! And the other thing: never, ever mention such a thing to Flammy, if you value your life! If you think you know her anger – you are wrong. She wouldn't steam up like me – she would just coldly cut you out of her life before you could even have the chance to really step in it! Knowing her, I can assure you that she would never, ever again, give you even a tiny chance to even apologize!
One thing you need to understand about working women, some of them do it because they have to. And some, because they chose to, because they wanted to. That's their choice, their way of living. And it's their right to do so. Women can be independent, they can make their own choices without asking anybody for permission. We have had equal rights since 1920, in case you haven't noticed. Long gone is the era of 'maintaining women so they behave like men want them to'. The 'right spur', that's a good one! Lucky for this Lewis or whatever his name is that I am not there right now – I would have so taught him a lesson or two!
And by the way… since he is oh-so-very experienced with women – why is he still a bachelor? Maybe none of his women wanted to deal with someone with such a chauvinistic point of view for longer than a day? Ever thought of that?
I've got to run to the post office to send this letter. I hope it will leave with afternoon's mail. Hopefully, it will arrive quickly enough for the steam to rise from the pages as soon as you open the envelope…
Steamy Candy
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'Chicago 10th of June 1923
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Alright, fine; since the steam was let out in the previous letter, I can get back to the point.
Firstly; as for the way you decided to approach Flammy – I think in her case, that was the best choice. Friendship is always a good start, she won't feel besotted, but don't forget to send some signs to let her know that she isn't just a mere acquaintance to you. Don't get crazy with bouquets of flowers, but something small would do nicely… I'm sure you will think of something, your ideas and plans are smashing…
Secondly – I'm also sure my letter will not be the only one that you'll receive. The other one will be from your other 'sister'. Annie and Archie are proudly announcing to whoever wants to listen (or not) that they have just become parents. Their sweet boy was born on time, on the 8th of June, the day after I had sent my last letter. I had already seen him when we visited Annie in the hospital… He has black hair after Annie and carries two beautiful names: Patrick Alistair.He was named after two of their dearest friends, they say. Patty is all over the moon because his first name was given to him after her. She is happy to be his God Mother although sometimes she gets a little sad too. I think this is because the second name was given after her lost love (Archie's deceased older brother, I think you met him when you were teenagers). One of Archie's cousins from his father's side will be a God Father but I haven't met him yet. Oh and one more thing. They will have support not just from Annie's parents but from Archie's too. They are back in town and are planning to stay for a few months.
Also, because of little Patrick's arrival, Albert firmly rejected the idea of organizing a big birthday party for himself. He didn't want to take away the attention from the little one. "What is so special about the twenty ninth birthday anyway?" he had said, "My thirtieth, next year, now that will be an entirely different matter; this year – a nice, family dinner would do nicely." And family dinner we had.
That's it for now. Hope to hear from you soon – Candy.
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15th June 1923 Stevens Farm, Lakewood to Cornwell Estate, through South Chicago Mail:
Dear Annie and Archie STOP Congratulation on your new born son from me and my Father STOP Tom STOP
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'Chicago 4th of July 1923
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Hi Tom,
Why are you so quiet all of the sudden?
What are you sending to Flammy? I see her sometimes receiving her mail and some of the letters looked quite large and heavy!
Preparations are in full gear, invitations have already been sent (they should arrive any day now), my wedding dress is almost ready and so is Albert's tail-coat, all reservations and orders have been confirmed… Phew… Forgive me for being brief, I am writing on my lunch break and I am already on my way to send this letter.
Candy
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'Lakewood 9th of July 1923
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Hi Candy,
Sorry, I was busy at the farm. Okay, lying now, I was petrified to write to you after you screamed at me in the previous letter…
Sorry if you got offended, I really didn't mean to. You have to understand; when a man works most of his life on the farm and all he sees is either cattle or his beloved horses, he will at some point start thinking about life from a horseman's point of view. Living with horses, we need to think like them, understand them, behave like them – so then everything else we see is from this point of view too. And don't get me wrong – in some way, for a horseman, to compare a woman to his favorite horse is like the best compliment he could ever give! Okay, I admit, Lewis had perhaps gone a little bit too far with this 'spur' thing, but again, it's the very specific sense of humor that we, horsemen share. We get to see each other more often than we see other people from town – no wonder then, when we have discussions about women (no detail this time, this is totally a man thing) – we instinctively use the most natural thing for us to compare, which is the horse. Hard to understand for outsiders, who never tried to live like us, I know.
That's all about excusing myself… Sorry again…
As for the object of our interstate discussion, I mean Flammy… You won't believe it… she replied to my letter, she really did! And not just once! My first letter included only a postcard with greetings, in the second one I wrote: for the prettiest nurse in St. Camille's Hospital and inside I put … a four-leaf clover. I don't know what got into my mind. She replied that she has never heard of Casanova courting a woman with a clover before… and I struck while the iron was hot. Now, I send her a flower within each letter (I write to her once every three days). It's just one of those common flowers that are now blossoming among the fields and meadows. First I press it inside a book (do you remember how Miss Pony taught us that?) and then I slip it in between the pages of the letter.
Speaking of big packages…She had asked me in one of her letters what I did for a living. I asked our blacksmith to make miniature horseshoe and carve it nicely and I sent it instead of an answer. I explained in following letter that among other things we are also breeding horses. I'd like to show her more but I don't know how.
Hugs – Tom
P.S. Since it took me two days to finish this letter, in the meantime the invitation has arrived. Eighteenth of August, you say? But didn't you say earlier that it was going to be at the end of July?
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'Chicago 14th of July 1923
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Big brother,
What have you done to Flammy? Since I have started working mostly on the day shifts, I have more opportunities to see her before we start. Before, she would have gone straight to the nurse's room for the morning briefing and then for her usual round; now the first thing she does is to go to reception to check in on her mail, with no emotional expression on her face, of course…If I didn't know her better, I would have said she was expecting a letter from someone…
Albert had caught me talking to myself about her once. He knows that Flammy and I are not best of friends and her name wouldn't just come up for no apparent reason at all and he asked me what I was up to. I had to mention you and explain everything, I hope you will forgive me. He liked the idea of sending the horseshoe! Then I asked him how he would describe you and your everyday life in a good way but he just gave me this enigmatic smile of his and said that this is something one needs to see firsthand to fully understand. He didn't explain any further and we didn't bring up this matter anymore.
As for the date of the wedding… long story. Do you remember how I mentioned in my first letter that Aunt Elroy was in charge of a few things? Well, she had very fiercely insisted in delaying it for at least a month, two would be better, three was best. We managed (after a long and exhausting battle) to shrink it down to three weeks. No more waiting, I said and Albert backed me up. So, the 18th it is then.
There's another reason. Since she insisted in delaying it, we finally agreed but on one condition: we will choose the date. And we did. We wanted to have the wedding on the 18th because it will be exactly a year from the day we decided to be together. I guess we are both sentimental fools...
Annie had some doubts though. She feels great, she can easily attend to the party but she didn't want to leave her little son for so long. We both assured her she can take him with her as we have plenty of rooms here. His nanny can take care of him all night and Annie can go and see him any time she wants to.
Lots of hugs
Candy'
P.S. I forgive you for the comment about the horse.
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'Lakewood 20th of July 1923
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Hey sis,
You are so not going to believe this. Guess who visited us two days ago? Albert himself, in the flesh. Can you guess why? No? Well I will tell you anyway: he only came for a few hours and brought his camera with him. He took a dozen of photos of me when I was working, when I'm herding cattle, when I'm training and later feeding a young stallion from our stables. He said I can either keep them or send them one by one to some girl if there was one…Do you understand now this 'enigmatic smile of his'? He simply gave me a clue of how to show Flammy what I do every day. Could you tell me where this lad is taking such ideas from? And how is it possible that he still finds the time to help his friends so close to his own wedding? My respect for him is already higher than the ceiling of our barn and it's still growing… You are a really lucky girl…
Tom
P.S. I have already bought the tail-coat. Argh... I feel weird in such clothes...
P.P.S. I am going to send one of the photos to Flammy. I will start with the one taken during training.
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'Chicago 28th of July 1923
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Hi Tom,
Please say no more. He never ceases to amaze me too…You think you already know him through and through, and then, hello, there he is, with a new thing to surprise you with…
Tom, you have no idea what I had witnessed…I had a one hour break between surgeries and I went to the changing room to take a shower. After that I changed and I was just about to leave when I heard a noise and realized I wasn't alone there. I went back to changing room and discreetly opened the door…Flammy was sitting at the table (we have one, tiny coffee table near the window). She must have received one of your letters that day because she was holding a photo… and she was smiling! I'm sure she didn't notice me. I know, because her smile seemed to be one of those born at times when you are alone…I closed the door. If she wants to wear her mask, so let it be; maybe it will fall off one day by itself… The surface has been already scratched.
Lots of hugs. Candy'
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'Lakewood 5th of Aug 1923
Sis,
I have just received a letter from her… As usual, she writes a bit sarcastically… Tell me, why am I getting the impression that she is lonely? And I don't mean not keeping in contact with her family… She simply seems to be unable to open up to another person. I'm not good at judging people's emotions at all but I do have this feeling like there was a little, scared girl inside her, hiding away from any hurt… Why do I feel like this? I'm just a simple guy and analyzing a women's personality is foreign to me. Damn; even the word 'analyzing' had been foreign to me so far! Why then I get these feelings about her. Why do I feel the urge of knowing her, understanding her? This need in me kind of scares me.
And I keep asking myself - how can I make sure if I'm right? And if I'm right, if she really is lonely - how do I get to her hidden self?
One thing I know for sure; I have to see her when I come to Chicago, I have to!
I have some bad news for you. Mr. Cartwright can't go anywhere with his asthma and my Father broke his leg last week and can't come either. There will be four of us though: Miss Pony, Sister Maria, Jimmy and I.
Don't reply, as your letter might not reach me. See you on the 18th of Aug.
Tom'
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'New York, 9th of Aug 1923
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Dear Fellow 'Traveler',
As the news about your imminent wedding finally reached me in New York, I'd like to express the following:
Didn't I say so?
Didn't I say so?
Didn't I say so?
So I see you actually took my advice that I gave you back in the Congo.
Congratulations.
First-rate hag'
P.S. I hope you understand why I can't attend your wedding. As you read this, I'm probably already in Paris.