Chapter Ten

June 16th, 1922
Miles City, Montana

Charlie quite liked the town at night. The lemony glare of the street lights, the dancing of the moths, and the night time orchestra from the trees were all very pleasant to him. Not a soul was to be seen as it reached past eleven o'clock. It was overcast that night and only slivers of moonlight were able to pierce through the low hanging clouds. Charlie guessed it was going to rain, which was not an unusual occurence up in the mountains.

Charlie's bike crunched through the gravel as he pumped his legs back and forth, making his way towards the park that wasn't far from his house. Tucked into the pocket of his pants was the crumpled cigarette box he had managed to swipe from his father. He was sure he wouldn't notice. As Charlie steered himself down the street, the park began to come into view with it's iron wrought fencing that glowed in the moonlight. Charlie's heart began hammering in his chest as he braked just outside the gate. He hopped off his bike and wheeled it into some nearby bushes out of sight. His parents would be furious if he came home with a wrecked bicycle again.

Sheepishly, Charlie began wandering through the shadows of the trees. He looked all directions, as if expecting some teenage boys to be acting as spies. He assumed they'd come down from the trees, but nothing stirred. Charlie reached into his pocket to touch the cigarettes, as if it was security to him. He had to believe it was his ticket to not getting beat up again. Slowly, Charlie weaved through the trees, coming down to the small creek that ran through the edge of the public park. He stopped abruptly when he saw the dark looming figures walking around by the river.

Charlie took in a deep breath and whipped the hair from his face before he found himself marching forward. The boys were so tall. Charlie was almost jealous they had hit their growth spurt. Charlie still hadn't reached five foot, but his mother always told him he was going to be tall, just like his own father, who was nearly six foot. Charlie stepped on an elusive tree branch which snapped beneath his boots and he froze as he saw all the figures come together and begin investigating. He stood silently, watching as they came closer. He heard the click of a flashlight and blinked against the harsh light that fell across his face.

"Hey, it's that boy from last week," The one with the flashlight said, "What was his name? Chad?"

"Charlie," Charlie told them as he adjusted to the light on his face, "Charlie Dawson."

"What are you doing here?" Ivan pushed to the front of the crowd of boys, "I thought we made ourselves clear last week, Charlie."

"You did," Charlie replied with a quick nod of the head.

"So, what, you came back for another beating?" Another boy smirked, "Just in time, too. The scabs on my knuckles from last time just cleared up."

The boys were already hot on the idea and each were smiling as they began to encircle the small wiry boy. Charlie could feel a panic rising up in him as he looked between all their dark faces. Some boys shook their arms loose and cracked their necks, grinning deviously. It was obvious these boys took pleasure in inflicting pain amongst others.

"Wait, wait, wait," Charlie held his hands up, "Where's Lawrence?"

"What's it matter?" A boy behind Charlie said as he cracked his knuckles.

"He told me last time I forgot the cardinal rule," Charlie replied, turning in a circle to look at the boys, "He said I forgot an offering. Well, I got one for him."

"Give it to me," Ivan held his hand out, "I'll deliver to him."

"I want to give it to him."

"No," Ivan snapped, grabbing Charlie by his collar. Charlie was shocked as Ivan effortlessly dragged him closer. Ivan had never been physical with Charlie. It caught him off-guard, "We only give Lawrence the good stuff. If you think you're gonna march down there and give him some stupid train or a pack of crappy firework poppers, think again, Charlie. You listen to us."

Charlie couldn't help but wonder, as he stared at Ivan's stone-hard face, how Lawrence could have such a vice grip over all of these boys. In a way, he thought, they were like him. Just trying to fit in. Ivan's patience wore thin quickly and he gave Charlie a quick shake.

"Peter, check his pockets," Ivan said, without releasing Charlie or tearing his eyes away from him. Charlie squirmed as he felt a boy's hands begin digging in his pockets. He withdrew the stolen goods from his trousers and held them beneath the light of the flashlight.

"Cigarettes," Peter said, holding them up for all to see, "More than half a pack, too."

"Where'd you get those?" Ivan asked, tightening his grasp on Charlie's collar.

"I stole them," Charlie replied, "from my dad."

Ivan was quiet for a moment before he released Charlie, shoving him backwards to stand in the middle of the circle again. Charlie windmilled his arms and saved himself from falling down. He adjusted his shirt as the boys murmered. One wandered away from the group into the inky darkness encasing the park. Charlie stood nervously between all the boys, who were quietly talking to each other while keeping hawk eyes on the small Dawson boy.

Soon enough, Lawrence with Ivan in tow came to join the circle, half of his face illuminated by the flashlight. Lawrence had the pack of cigarettes in his hand, his gold earring glinting. He grinned and laughed, looking at Charlie from head to toe.

"You again," Lawrence said, shuffling his ratty boots, "You're a determined little one, aren't you? Lucky Strike cigarettes, hm. Pretty expensive brand. You said they're your dad's?"

"Yeah," Charlie nodded, "it's the only brand he smokes nowadays."

Lawrence examined the packaging for a moment and slowly nodded, "So, your parents just leave this kind of stuff laying around?"

Charlie shrugged, "It was in his coat pocket."

Lawrence began walking in circles around Charlie, which made the boy's nerves grow on edge, "You've got a nice Schwinn bicycle... your dad smokes Lucky Strike... do your parents also have a liquor cabinet?"

"Yeah," Charlie looked over his shoulder as Lawrence strolled by, "it's in the dining room."

Lawrence paused, his scummy smirk appearing across his face, "Do they lock it?"

Charlie stared at Lawrence for a moment, "No."

Lawrence reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a box of matches. Deftly, he swiped the match against the bottom of his boot, sparking a light. Charlie was rather amazed by the party trick. Lawrence lit the end of a cigarette and cherried as he inhaled deeply. He took his time relishing in the fancy British cigarettes which were much different than any that had been given to him as an offering before. Lawrence looked between the boys before laying his eyes back on Charlie.

"So, you wanna hang out with us, huh?" Lawrence shrugged, "You wanna roll with the Diamond Boys?"

"The Diamond Boys?"

"Diamonds in the rough," Lawrence told him, "That's what we call ourselves. You wanna be our friend, right, Charlie?"

Charlie shuffled his boots and glanced towards Ivan and Ross before looking back towards Lawrence, "Yeah. If it means we're gonna have a fun summer."

Lawrence grinned, "You don't even know the definition of fun yet."

"So... I'm in?" Charlie asked.

Lawrence held his hand up, "There's a stipulation."

"What's a stipulation?" Charlie furrowed his brow.

"A condition," Lawrence said after a drag of his cigarette, "If you wanna be a Diamond Boy, there's somethin' you gotta do to stay in with us."

"Alright," Charlie shrugged, "What is it?"

"You gotta keep us in supply with some alcohol and cigarettes," Lawrence told him, lowering the cigarette to his side, "Your parents got money, they got trust in you; it's the perfect scenario for you to gnab us some handles and cigarettes. We get that stuff, but only once or twice a week. You're gonna be our ticket to fun every night. Whaddya say?"

Charlie looked around at the circle of boys. Every pair of eyes were on him and he almost felt like he had stage fright like he had two year agos at the school's choir recital. He was so close to finally getting settled into a new group. He was so close to finally having a summer that was worth it before the dread of school returned. But the condition scared him. Continually stealing from his parents? This one time, Charlie thought it would be harmless and his ticket to friendship. But to continue to swipe things from under his parent's nose? When Charlie looked to Lawrence, however, he felt his knees buckling. He wanted this, he convinced himself.

"Okay, I'll see what I can do," Charlie nodded. Lawrence was pleased. He offered a cigarette out towards Charlie, "Oh, that's al-"

"If you wanna be a Diamond Boy, you gotta drink and smoke," Lawrence said, jamming the cigarette towards him, "If you think you're so bad, take a puff."

Lawrence lit the cigarette for Charlie. He took a small hesitant puff before he broke out into a series of coughs, earning laughs from the boys around him. The second time wasn't so bad. Charlie wasn't ready for the head rush, however, and the park spun around him. He rather liked it, though. Lawrence was grinning at him.

"I got a good feelin' about you, Charlie," Lawrence said, linking his large arm around the wiry boy's shoulders, "Come on, boys. Get that whisky from Ethan's backpack and let's go down to the river!"

...

June 17th, 1922
Miles City, Montana

The next morning, Charlie and Valentina were awake by eight, which was a miracle by Rose's standards. Since Jack wasn't heading into the office until after nine, Rose immediately hopped to making everybody homemade cinnanmon rolls with a sugary glaze. As Charlie and Valentina sat at the table with their father and awaited breakfast, Charlie glanced nervously between his parents. Nothing seemed different. His father didn't look like he had anything to say. Charlie was relieved when he had stumbled home on his bike at two in the morning and didn't see his parents on the front porch. He had tried whiskey for the first time last night and the world had been spinning around him, but he thought it was fun. His headache was slowly waning as he cleared two glasses of orange juice.

"My, my," Rose said as she came to the table with the carton, "You're flying through your orange juice this morning, Charlie."

"It's extra sweet this morning," Charlie told her, watching as the pulpy liquid filled his glass.

Rose grinned at her son for a moment before shifting her attention to Valentina, "So, what's the healthy girl with a perfect temperature doing today?"

"Trumpet practice," Valentina replied, rearranging her silverware on the table, "My audition is on the 22nd!"

"Comin' up fast," Jack nodded. He looked behind Rose to see the kettle on the stove top for the coffee was steaming. He was just coming to his feet and reaching for his cane when Rose cleared her throat, directing his attention to her.

"I'll get it. You sit down," Rose told him, setting the orange juice down between the children.

The family had a pleasant breakfast together, chatting about all their different interests. For Jack and Rose, having sit-down time as a family to eat were their favorites. Dinner was always family time. But when breakfast made the cut, it only made their day better. Rose was also always proud to watch her family eat the food she made. Usually her other mom friend's complained about a sink of dirty dishes, but Rose saw them as the leftovers of a happy home.

Once breakfast was over, Charlie took off on his bike without even clearing his place at the table. Valentina gathered her's and her brother's dishes and delivered them to the sink before she raced upstairs in a hurry to get her trumpet put back together. Rose sighed in content as she scraped left overs into the trash and dumped it into the sink to deal with later. She turned towards her husband who was finishing his coffee at the table.

"Well, everyone is off to their day," Rose said, flicking a curl from the frame of her face.

"Yup," Jack came to his feet and reached for his cane, "Guess that means I should be, too."

Jack set his mug into the sink and headed into the dining room with Rose on his heels. He began shrugging into his coat, "I wish you didn't have to go," Rose sighed.

"Hey, it's almost the weekend," Jack grinned over his shoulder as he situated his coat, "Then you'll have me all day."

"How's the July edition coming?" Rose asked as she approached Jack and removed extra lint from his coat, "Are you making Wally proud?"

"I sure hope so," Jack told her, reaching for her hand, "Suddenly everyone owns a boat."

Rose laughed at the thought, "How is Eleanor adjusting to the office."

"Oh, she's a natural," Jack grinned as he began towards the door, "I think she's going to do just fine. I'll see you later, alright? I'll be home a little after six."

"Have a good day," Rose said, running her hand up his arm, "I love you."

"I love you, too," Jack leaned in for a kiss and then he was on his way. Rose waved to him from the porch as he closed the gate behind him and began on his way to the office. He was already imagining the state of his messy desk. So many papers left unattended to yesterday, that stack would be doubled by today.

As Jack began down the main road outside of his neighborhood, he decided to get a smoke in. He reached into his pocket but furrowed his brow when he realized the pack wasn't there. He checked the other pocket, too, before he stopped and began patting himself down.

Damn, Rose must have borrowed them, Jack thought as he continued on his way, She must have a lot of due dates right now. She probably needs them more than I do anyway.

...

At the office, Jack's premonitions were correct. He was swimming in paperwork, as normal, as they entered the late stages of the month. The crunch time had become quite apparent. People were rushing about, yelling across the room, and constantly chatting on their phones. During these times of the month, Jack kept his door close so he could focus on the logistics of paperwork that went into getting their monthly magazine published and put onto shelves. It wasn't his favorite part of the job, but that's what being the boss meant.

He heard his office door creak open after about an hour of working at his desk. He had been expecting his right hand man, Williamson, to be coming in to meet about the possibility of shipping the magazine to Europe, an endeavor they had been involved in for nearly half a year, but when Jack looked up, he was surprised to see Eleanor coming in with papers and a tray in her hands. She was wearing a hot red dress with black accents and had her curly hair swept atop her head.

"Good morning, Jack!" She greeted as she shut the door and closed all the noises of the office out.

"Oh, hi, Eleanor," Jack said as he shuffled all of his papers, "What's up?"

"I just have some notarized forms I need to pop into your files," Eleanor told him, "But I also brought you a mid-morning snack! I know you're overflowing with paperwork, so I didn't want you to worry about getting hungry."

Eleanor set the tray on a free part of Jack's desk. He was surprised to see half of an avocado sprinkled with salt and pepper, a small container of yogurt, and a mug of piping hot coffee. He arched his eyebrows and looked to Eleanor, "Wow, thanks, Eleanor. You know, you don't have to do that. I don't want you fallin' behind on your own work on account of me."

"Oh, nonsense," Eleanor waved her hand dismissively, being sure to put on a big smile, "I had time. You're the boss and need all the brain power you can get!"

"Well, I really appreciate it," Jack told her, reaching for the coffee, "How'd you know I love avocado?"

"Lucky guess," Eleanor giggled, "How are you feeling? Is there anything I can get you?"

"I'm fine," Jack shook his head, "You've done plenty. Thank you, Eleanor."

Jack returned to his work and Eleanor found herself in front of the filing cabinet again. She pondered over herself for a moment as she opened the drawer and found the folder she needed. She glanced back towards Jack who was already lost in his work again. She had been brainstorming all kinds of ways to interact with Jack. She had even worn one of her nicest dresses. Eleanor decided she would need more blush tomorrow. She would do anything to have Jack Dawson look at her for a few moments longer. Slowly, she stewed in her mind and paused from her work, looking over her shoulder at Jack.

"Jack, can I talk to you about something?"

"Mhm," He nodded, his eyes still glued to the page he was writing on.

Eleanor set her files on top of the cabinet and approached his desk again, smoothing her long skirt out, "I was thinking more about conversation about the boys..."

Immediately, Jack looked up at her, "Yeah?"

"I feel really awful about the whole situation," Eleanor told him, "I was wondering if maybe tomorrow, since it's a short day at the office, if you'd like to come over to my house for a late lunch? We could discuss what's best for the children, really get to the root of the problem. It would be nice to have some extra advice."

Jack smiled and took a sip of his coffee, "You know what, I'll take you up on that offer," Jack nodded, "If you're as worried as I am, that would be a great time for us to really hash it out."

"Great, it's settled," Eleanor nodded, feeling her heart leap. As she turned back to return to her work, Jack called after her and she attempted to turn towards him coyly.

"I really appreciate you wanting to talk about this," Jack told her.

"Of course," Eleanor said, "Anything for you, Jack."

He grinned at her before returning to his work. His very smile made her entire day so much better. She returned to her filing, the only thing occupying her mind being Jack's smile and his warm velvety voice.