Chapter 6: Reflections of a Mind

1929 Chicago, Illinois

Twilight had fallen on Wilson Street on the North side of Chicago. As the streetlights in front of the line of brownstones lit up, husbands, wives, and children gathered around their dinner tables, eating together as families do. Despite the summer night, a cool nip lingered in the air as Susan Fletcher sat in the passenger seat of their automobile, rubbing her hands together to try and stay warm. More importantly to her, she hoped her husband Thomas wouldn't hurt himself. Cranking their 1914 Model T had become a real chore, one that really should be done by someone much younger than her husband. Seeing Thomas leaning with his forearm against the top of the brass radiator as he tried to catch his breath was unnerving for her, but she knew how stubborn her husband could be, especially when it came to that infernal hand crank. She just prayed he wouldn't throw his back out again.

"Be careful, dear. Please rest between attempts," Susan called out.

Thomas looked up at his wife and smiled. "Don't worry. I'm sure it will start up on the next attempt."

Thomas was, in fact, worried. Their old Tin Lizzie had been getting harder and harder to start for months now, and he didn't know what he would do if it died on them. He couldn't afford a new car, even though he would love one with an electric starter. He was about to give it another go when he heard a voice from behind him.

"Excuse me. Would you like me to give it a try? I have a knack with these old cars," the voice offered politely.

Thomas lifted his head and saw a young man standing just a few feet away from him. He hadn't seen him a moment ago when he had looked that way and he wondered how he could have missed the man. Quickly taking in the man's presence, Thomas noted that he was in his late teens and moderately dressed, wearing a brown jacket, but did not appear to be from the upper class. The man had a pleasant smile on his face, but as Thomas observed him, he had an unsettling feeling that something just wasn't right about the man. He couldn't place the reason for these feelings, but regardless, the man was young and looked quite strong. Thomas hoped the man would have better luck than he was having.

"Much obliged, young man. This vehicle is not the easiest to start, that's for sure," Thomas remarked, stepping back to let the man have a go.

"Oh, I think I might have some luck. My father owned a '14 just like this one. Let's see if I still have the magic touch," the man replied with a slight grin.

Thomas observed as the man bent down in front of the radiator, seizing the hand crank. Then, with a single swift tug, Thomas was amazed as the engine sputtered to life.

"There you go," the young man said as he straightened up, lightly patting the radiator with a satisfied expression.

Thomas let out a relieved breath. "Thank you so much…"

"Edward, Edward Mason," the man said, extending his hand.

"Well, thank you, Edward," Thomas said, shaking the man's hand. As he did, he noticed Edward's hand felt rather cold. Feeling for the young man, Thomas knew that if he and Susan didn't get to their destination quickly, they would catch the chills as well. He patted Edward on the shoulder as Susan stepped down from the vehicle to allow him to slide in behind the steering wheel. After Susan took her place beside him, they both waved farewell to Edward, who had stepped back up onto the curb.

As the car rumbled away, Susan remarked, "What a nice young man."

Edward watched silently as the car rumbled around the corner, and the couple disappeared from his sight. It was nice when he met two people who were truly in love, with nothing but positive thoughts about each other. Their 45th wedding anniversary was coming up next week, and he smiled as he could hear Thomas currently planning the party he intended to throw for his wife. The celebration would include the surprise arrival of their two children with their families, all coming in from out of state. He had been glad to assist the older gentleman. His father had, in fact, owned a 1914 Model T touring car, identical to theirs. It was the last car his family had owned before the end had come for them all.

Edward resumed walking along the city streets, his head lowered as he listened intently. He was on the hunt for a meal tonight, though it had only been a week since he last sated his thirst. If he didn't have any luck this evening, there was no real urgency yet. After leaving Carlisle and Esme two years ago, he had quickly resolved never to hurt an innocent person. Since then, he had been using his mind-reading ability to target only the most vile of humanity. The trade-off suited him just fine, and he found himself much happier with his current diet than he had been when he was with Carlisle.

The thought of drinking from animals still made Edward shudder, but he respected Carlisle too much to stay with them when he planned on hunting humans. The area of Chicago he was currently walking through was rather run-down. The cars were older, and as the thoughts of the people inside the buildings filtered through his mind, he sensed how many were growing more desperate with their current living situations. It was nothing like the lavish parts of the city, where the new automobiles looked like sleek futuristic marvels, and where wine flowed like water.

After a while, Edward grew restless and decided that unless he got lucky and found someone worthy of becoming his meal, he would forgo dinner for the night. He already knew where he wanted to head instead. Over the past year, he had found great satisfaction in helping the less fortunate. As a mind reader, he had a better understanding than most of what people were going through when they fell on hard times. The story of Robin Hood had been one of Edward's favorites when he was growing up, and recently, he had taken to the idea of stealing from the rich to give to the poor. And if he had a good time while doing it, then all the better.

Edward wouldn't actually steal per se, but he had begun using his ability to take money from those he felt didn't deserve it. He mostly did this by visiting gambling dens and speakeasies. Poker and other card games were perfect, as he could stack the odds in his favor and win when he wanted to and from whom he wanted to. While his own needs for money were few, he found great joy in helping those in need. Just a few minutes ago, as Thomas had been getting into his car, he had slipped $100 dollars into the man's pocket – a tidy sum he hoped Thomas might use to get a newer used car with that electric starter.

Edward decided to head to "The Four Deuces" speakeasy. They always had a good game there, and many of the players were criminals, so he felt no remorse taking their ill-gotten gains. Additionally, he also enjoyed going to listen to the live music and sometimes he even played if the mood struck him. After two years living in Chicago, most of the bands knew him and were happy to let him sit in and play the piano whenever he asked.

With his plan set for the next several hours, he paused to listen carefully to the city around him. The Four Deuces was on the other side of Chicago, so he would have to run; otherwise, it would take him over an hour walking at human speed. After scanning his surroundings and ensuring it was safe, he slipped into an alleyway and leaped, effortlessly swinging up onto a fire escape and then vaulting himself the rest of the way onto the roof of the three-story building. Landing soundlessly on the balls of his shoes, he couldn't help but smile. The swiftness and agility of a vampire never ceased to amaze him, even after a decade into his new life. Confirming the coast was clear once more, he took off across the rooftops. He knew he was so fast that no one would be able to spot him, and any fleeting glimpse would only be dismissed as a trick of the moonlight.

Edward stopped two blocks away from 'The Four Deuces' and proceeded toward the glitzy lights and the high-end cars. Even without his mind-reading ability, he could discern that the patrons of this establishment were far better off than those in the part of Chicago he had just left. Everyone was impeccably dressed, and the cars were all new and shiny.

As he pondered the designs of the newest cars he had recently seen and all the innovations held within them, Edward smiled. He relished having a front-row seat, knowing he would witness how the world changed each and every year. Automobiles were a perfect representation of that change. Even the Model T, which had been the car for the every man for decades and a staple of American automobiles, had been phased out last year, replaced by the Model A.

As he approached the entrance beside the front door, he spotted a car idling, causing him to halt in his tracks. It nearly took his breath away; such was its beauty. The vehicle, a high-end green Cadillac, was a model he had not seen before and it looked amazing. Yet, as he tuned into the thoughts of the driver behind the wheel, it grabbed his attention for a wholly different reason. It appeared the owner of this stunning automobile was Al Capone, and from the driver's musings, it seemed the car was bulletproof. Edward had certainly heard of the man before, but he had never found himself in the same establishment as the notorious crime boss.

As Edward stepped inside the building, his senses were assaulted from all sides. The smell of blood from every human hit him hard, and oh, how mouthwatering it was. He had no intention of satisfying his thirst here, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate the delightful aroma. Focusing first on the band, as he usually did when he heard music playing, Edward recognized them; he had played with them in the past. However, the saxophone player was new, and as Edward isolated his playing, he had to admit the man knew his stuff. Even though he primarily focused on playing the piano, he had, in fact, mastered all the major instruments.

The venue was bustling, every table around the bar occupied by men and women enjoying themselves with drinks in hand. For the men without lady friends, there seemed to be an endless array of women of the evening happy to show them a good time... and relieve them of their money. He always tried his hardest to ignore the activities taking place on the upper floors. As he navigated his way to the card tables, he passed by various other games of chance. Among them, he noticed a showgirl captivating the crowd by spinning a big wheel, with eager customers cheering on the man playing, all waiting to see what fortune would bring him and eagerly anticipating their own turn.

Edward, however, preferred games that weren't fixed, as he could easily discern the showgirl's thoughts as she invited the man to try his luck again with another spin. While occasional cheating occurred at the card tables... he smiled, realizing he shouldn't judge too harshly; being the biggest cheater of them all, he knew it would be quite difficult for someone else to pull one over on him. Taking an empty seat at the 5-card poker table, he exchanged his money for several stacks of chips from the dealer. As he waited to be dealt into the next hand, he listened closely to his fellow players, gauging their moods, whether they were on an upswing or down for the night, and determining whom he would want to win from.

A few hours later...

"This must be your lucky night," the man said with a faux smile plastered on his face as the chips were pushed towards Edward. His thoughts, however, mainly consisted of uttering one vulgarity after another. The man was a criminal, and for the last few hours, Edward had been steadily winning small pots against him, gradually cleaning him out.

"It's just the luck of the draw," Edward replied with a smile, then decided to add, "I'm certainly doing better than I did last night. I really took it on the chin yesterday." He grinned inwardly as the man's ire towards him eased upon hearing about his invented misfortunes.

As Edward played, the murmurs of men echoed throughout the establishment, both in whispered conversations and silent thoughts about their boss, Al Capone. The place was teeming tonight with criminals who seemed to follow their boss around like loyal lapdogs. Yet, what he heard, whether spoken or unspoken, filled him with disgust—not just for what they had done, but for what they were planning to do in the near future.

Edward decided to listen in on Capone himself, deftly sifting through the cacophony of thoughts in his head until he honed in on the man who commanded such a devoted following. Now hearing Capone's thoughts clearly, he discerned that Capone was in a private lounge area in the back, drinking and laughing with some acquaintances while he balanced a... lady friend on his knee.

As Edward listened in, his blood—if he had any—would have run cold. The man was vile, and his thoughts... What he had done and what he was planning to do were beyond reprehensible. As another pot was pushed his way, Edward started contemplating his actions regarding his meals and whether he should actually consider confronting a certain individual. After all, he had much to say regarding what he was hearing, but he had a feeling the actual conversation, if any occurred at all, would be quite brief.

Feeding mostly on degenerates and men planning awful crimes, Capone easily fit Edward's definition of someone worthy to take out, but he had never killed anyone of such high profile before. The men he drained would never be missed by anyone. Capone was well-known around the entire city, if not the country, and his disappearance would be noticed. As Edward continued to play poker, he pondered whether he wanted to put himself out there like that. He knew humans would never catch him, but he was wary of the Volturi. He wondered if they would have something to say about his practices if his results started garnering attention from the human world. Carlisle had always warned him about not getting on the bad side of the Volturi, particularly Aro. Before Edward had left, Carlisle had stressed to him never to go to Italy and always to stay unnoticed. Carlisle had never explained his reasoning, either spoken or through his thoughts, but the look in his maker's eyes told him it was wise to heed his advice.

Edward was currently up approximately $400, and he deemed that was enough for one night. He couldn't always win, so he varied his approach, intentionally losing some hands. However, when it came to the pots that mattered to him, he always, unsurprisingly, ended up the winner. As he cashed out, he listened to Capone one final time. His thoughts were fixated on a cop whom he had ordered to be murdered. Edward's back stiffened as he was forced to listen to how his goons had carried out the deed. They had not been quick. No, Capone should not be allowed to live.

Resolved in his conviction that it was right to take Capone out, the question became how best to accomplish it. The man seemed to be quite paranoid, perhaps rightfully so, and his extensive security measures meant this wouldn't be an easy catch and kill operation. Planning would be crucial, and he resolved to begin in the morning upon returning to the apartment where he was currently staying.

As Edward stepped outside, he retrieved his pocket watch from his shirt pocket, noting it was only 11:30 at night. He pondered his next destination. At this late hour, few establishments remained open, most of them being places of ill repute, and he had just departed from one. Contemplating whether to continue his hunt for food, he already knew where he wanted to go. With a smile, he set off for Wrigley Field, hopeful for the chance to spend some time with Mindy.

This and the next two chapters set up Edward's story. It's quite a long time before Bella is even born, so we'll be following Edward through the decades, with his story interwoven with Bella's until they finally meet. Feedback is both welcome and appreciated.