Chapter One
"Similar souls wander in the similar places! They may not know each other, but often they touch the same winds, they step on the same leaves, their looks are lost in the same horizons!"— Mehmet Murat ildan
The June sun hung high in the sky as hot radiance beamed down from its heavenly perch in golden streams. Down, down they fell, drawing the Earth near in a summer embrace. Cicadas buzzed as the midafternoon heat refracted in the air. The sun's rays cascaded down through shifting trees and landed onto a beautiful estate. A red brick mansion rested upon a stately garden lawn, green and neat as a pin in the simmering heat. Guests peppered the garden in fine suit jackets and glowing sun hats. Some sat on fine wicker lawn chairs while others stood on the freshly cut grass.
Warm light fell and touched down gently onto a particular hat. White as the clouds it caught the summer beams in its brim, casting a glow onto the young woman below. Her freckled cheeks rounded with beauty, gave way to a demure mouth. Her glossy hair was curled in long ringlets and spilled over her shoulders like ribbons of silk. Lady sat on a lawn chair, clothed in a white party dress and her mesh gloved fingers fiddled with a closed parasol in her lap. She tried hard not to tap her foot on the grass or bite her lip.
Instead she kept her eyes fixed upon a group of older women standing before her. In a small circle of chatter they stood with their parasols open. But it was her mother specifically who she watched, tall and graceful, her lips curved into a pleasant smile. Her pregnant stomach, though purposefully hidden beneath her waistless dress, still managed to peek through a bit. Lady tried but failed to hide the adoring envy across her face as she watched. She wondered if she'd ever be able to socialize with the grace her mother so charmingly exuded.
"Sweetheart, you can join them." A man chuckled beside her. Lady turned and looked at her father with a dubious smile. He also sat on a chair, dressed in a beige day suit and Panama hat, his leg across his knee. He was all too familiar with these types of events. Father was a kind, mustached gentleman with warm eyes and prominent smile lines.
"I never know what to say." She replied.
"They would gladly accept your company, I'm sure of it." Father said, reaching over and grabbing from the small table of refreshments between them.
"It's hopeless, I'll fumble and make a fool of myself." Lady said, with a mock pout.
Father chuckled again. "You are never going to break that shy streak of yours if you don't go out and try speaking with others. Why not try some of those young ladies"—he motioned to a group of teenage girls standing by the hedge bushes on the edge of the property—"and see if they want to chat."
Lady turned and looked at the girls with a nervous swallow. Under their hats they all had short, bobbed hairstyles curling about their ears and long pearl necklaces down their fronts. Lady reached up and gently tugged one of her ringlets. She sighed. They looked to be sharing a secret no matter how they spoke, and their constant giggling made it difficult to think otherwise. Lady cocked her head to the side and watched, mystified, as they carried on happily.
"They are just like you, sweet girl. I promise." Father said.
"But I don't really know them well." Lady countered.
"They all live within a few blocks of us and you could easily make a friend. All you have to do is walk over."
He paused as he spoke, and noticed a man across the yard motioning him over to a group of men, pipe smoke swirling about them. He smiled and rose from his chair to join them but not before affectionately patting his daughter on the shoulder. "It will be fine, why not give it a try?"
With a grim smile and a nod Lady watched as Father walked to his buddies. Now alone she blew a dejected puff of air from her nose and snagged a dainty finger sandwich from the refreshment table. How she wished for her dear friend, Ida. But her childhood playmate was off on an ocean liner to France with her family, and would be all summer. I wouldn't be so poor off if she were here. Ida was similarly soft spoken, but what differed greatly between them was her intense love of dancing. Lady smiled. She was probably swinging her way across the ship's deck, smiling away with her blonde hair flying. Lady's smile slowly faded and she glanced at her parents in turn who both continued to talk effortlessly. She sighed again. In an attempt to beat the loneliness that tried to consume her Lady rose from her chair and opened her parasol.
She walked away from the garden, but not before turning to look over her shoulder at the girls. With even more giggles and coy glances, they made their way to a huddling of boys congregated by a row of large cedar trees. She inwardly groaned and shook her head with frustration. One more thing she didn't know how to navigate; boys. Lady shuddered. Now that's a quick way to really embarrass myself. With that in mind she politely pulled her up skirt and walked towards the house. Grand windows and pillars decorated the mansion like a painting. It belonged to the town's first female doctor, Dr. Avery. She and Lady's mother were good friends, and it was tradition to attend several parties a year with the doctor and her husband. And half of their neighborhood too, of course.
Lady stepped carefully across the lawn until she reached the house terrace, an expansion of crisp tile surrounded by a low stone pillar fence and budding rose bushes. Twirling her parasol listlessly she looked around to make sure no one was watching, and lightly sat on the flat edge of the fence. Lady sighed for what felt like the hundredth time, letting quiet fall calmly around her. Closing her eyes she breathed in through her nose and smelled the freshly cut grass. The distant sound of the party guests chatting threatened to undo her solace, but then a new sound reached her ear. She turned her head and looked towards the mansion. It's large french doors were open wide for the world to see and revealed a grand drawing room. The sound emulating from its richly furnished depths was a record player which gently played opera music.
With a small grin Lady turned down her parasol and looked up at the sky over the brim of her hat. It was a pleasant sight of silken clouds and summer clarity. The female singer's voice carried into the sky and seemed to join the fabric of the clouds. It rose with each angelic note of her song till they were one and the same. It made Lady forget the lonely anxiety that awaited her in the garden, and soothed her back into contentment. This was much better. Being alone with the sky and the music, not surrounded by crowds of well dressed neighbors. It wasn't quite perfect but to Lady it was heaven on Earth.
The opera riddled clouds continued their course through the air, drifting on past the stately neighborhoods and glittering automobiles to a different side of town. It was an expanse of tenements and businesses, dirt roads and slums. The shade the clouds provided meandered and fell upon a drugstore front, momentarily blocking it from the sun. In the middle of a business district it sat between a general store and a barber shop. The store was a squat building of drab, rain worn concrete with a large window at its face. Above it was a small marquee sign in fading burgundy; Drugs Prescriptions Soda Cigars it read in it's lightbulb adorned letters. Inside it was a typical establishment with worn wood floors, shelves loaded with wares, and a dully spinning ceiling fan.
However, it was all a cover. The real attraction was what lay beneath: the basement. This was no ordinary basement by any means. Through a secret door in the back storage room there dwelt a makeshift saloon. Swathed in cigarette smoke and the smell of booze it featured a bar at the back, shelves piled high with bottles, and a hodgepodge of tables and booths. The floor was dirty and feet harshly scuffed across it.A crude chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a dusky, amber glow from its bare bulbs onto its patron's faces. Men and women sat intermingled around the room, laughing, singing and arguing. Dressed in nothing like the lavish party across town they wore dark dresses and worn jackets.
On the end of the bar, slightly removed from the crowd, a radio rested on the counter. From its small wooden frame a baseball game crackled out for all to hear. A young man sat across from it, turning the dial to decrease the static with his head held downward in concentration. He was all lean muscle and long limbs and barely fit in his chair with his tall frame. Well worn clothes hung from his shoulders, and a tweed newsboy cap covered his wild head of hair. When Tramp got the radio to a satisfactory sound he hissed at a group of boys behind him, motioning for them to quiet down.
"Shut it, I'm trying to hear." He said.
"Ah c'mon man, you know they're gonna lose! Why do ya care so much, huh? Have a drink and join us." A dark haired boy called from the table at his back. He and the others sat around the table with glasses held smugly in their hands.
"I'll pass." Tramp replied, not deigning to look back. "Now keep your traps shut for a sec."
They waved him off and got back to their boisterous conversation their voices raising as they began to shout amongst themselves. Tramp rolled his eyes and turned up the volume on the radio as the sports announcer's metallic voice cut through the ruckus. He tipped his cap up from his forehead, listening intently, and placed his chin on his clasped hands. The play by play continued when suddenly the announcer began to exclaim excitedly with the distant crowd cheering in the background. The final score was called and Tramp swore softly under his breath. Something between a chuckle and sigh left his lips. "Looks like I owe Tony some money tomorrow."
"What'd ya say?" The other boy, Buster, shouted at him.
"Nothing, I just owe someone some money. They lost." He replied, turning to face the group with a disappointed shrug of his shoulders.
"Told ya they would. They've been on a losing streak this month and you know it." Buster said, a brawny boy of slick black hair and olive skin.
"Ah well, win some, lose some. It was worth a shot." Tramp turned off the radio and rose from his chair.
"You finally gonna join us now?" Buster inquired.
"No, I need some fresh air. Carry on." Tramp said with a wave of his hand. He made his way for the door, pulling his cap back over his forehead, when Buster reached out and grabbed his arm. "Hey, in case you didn't know, she is over there. Been eyeing you this whole time." He said motioning his head to a table across the room.
Tramp raised a quizzical eyebrow and looked up in the direction he'd pointed to see a young woman sitting with another group of boys across the way. She had a wild frizz of curls atop her head and was long necked and pale skinned as a doll. Clothed in a sleeveless gown and dark lipstick the girl's withering eyes bore down on him in between sips of her wine glass.
"What happened there?" Buster chuckled.
Tramp cleared his throat and turned back to him with a smirk. "It's not important, just ignore her."
"Alright, whatever you say." His friend laughed, reaching down and fishing a cigarette pack out of his shirt pocket. He grabbed a cigarette, lit it and put it to his lips. "Don't come crying to me when that backfires."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Buster offered him a cigarette with a shake of his head. "I worry for you." He jested.
"Worrying is for suckers." Tramp said, accepting the smoke and having Buster light it for him. "I'll be back later, I got some things to do."
With that he sashayed through the other crowded tables with ease and reached the exit. Tramp felt the girl's eyes on him all the while but he refused to glance back over his shoulder. Popping open the paint chipped door he walked through and closed it behind him with a tired click. Tramp walked up a steep set of stone stairs and emerged onto the back alley of the street. He looked all around the backlot, making sure no one saw him exit. Tramp liked the owner of this speakeasy, an unruly yet comical man named Kisro, and didn't fancy the idea of it getting busted on his account. He walked down the alley puffing away at his cigarette secretly happy to be away from the boys and their raucous company. Tramp loved them like brothers but sometimes he needed time apart as well.
After walking a mile or so, between alleys and apartment buildings, he reached a set of train tracks. There he came upon a small, dingy railroad station. The train lines rarely if ever came to this part of town so the station was quiet as if it were abandoned. Now hot from the afternoon sun Tramp went and stood underneath the station's roof, leaning against the wall in the shade. Quiet was a welcome sound. Peering up at the sky Tramp forcibly blew smoke from his lips. The clouds floated on a sluggish breeze in the great pool of blue overhead, coasting along like they didn't have a care in the world. They were the lucky ones. How he wished he could be the same as those clouds, not tied down and free to go wherever he chose. Tramp took another deep inhale of his cigarette and blew it down at his feet.
"Is there ever an end to this town?" He asked softly into the hot air.
Tramp shook his head, and chuckled. With one last inhale he flicked the cigarette to the ground and mashed it into the dirt with his foot. Tramp stared at it, sad and bent and heaved a sigh. Are you really all that different? He thought. Turning his eyes up again he blew his leftover plume up into the sky. He would prefer to be more like the smoke. Though not as pure as a cloud, at least it was touching the sky and at least it was free to fly.
Hello, all! Well here it is, the first chapter of my full, plot oriented story. This was kinda a introduction like chapter, and the next will get into the main plot more. I'm looking forward to writing in sequential order, as I've been too intimidated to try in the past. This is going to be fun! The potential for these characters in this format is much more interesting than I would have guessed. Thanks as always for reading! Till next time.
- Curly
