Authors: M.L. Gardner
Tags: #drama, #family saga, #great depression, #frugal, #roaring twenties, #historical drama, #downton abbey
“When he sobered up, he panicked and took out
some loans, so his family wouldn’t know the extent of the damage.
When I met Arianna, her family was struggling pretty badly. The
family hid it from everyone for the longest time. And when I
finally did find out how bad her situation was, well, to say she
was angry is a major understatement. Her pride was three stories
high. I tried to convince her that it didn’t matter. I offered to
take her away from the shame. I couldn’t guarantee a grand
lifestyle, but I promised her I’d take care of her.
“We decided to start a new life up north,
stopping by the preacher’s house before we left Georgia to be
married and the rest, as they say, is history.”
Jonathan sighed heavily. “I wish I had told
you to stay. You might be doing better on your own land in Georgia
right now.”
“No, you can’t blame yourself. How in hell
could you have foreseen this? I just don’t want you all to think
badly of Arianna. She’s doing the best she can.”
“We understand,” Jonathan said.
Caleb stood up and stretched. “I need to get
some sleep. We’ve got busy days ahead of us.”
“Night, Caleb,” they all mumbled in unison as
he left the room.
Claire and Aryl stood up as well and Claire
hugged Ava tightly. “I’ll come by tomorrow.” Aryl helped Claire
with her coat, and Jonathan saw them out.
October 30th 1929
The next day started too early and on too
little sleep. Caleb slipped out just at the break of dawn. He
stopped by home to change clothes and grab his own coat. He donned
his favorite hat, catching a glimpse of himself in the foyer
mirror. He hardly looked like a man about to go out and search for
a cheap place to live. Lastly, he grabbed a thin wad of cash from a
hidden safe behind an oil painting of Arianna. He let out a
stress-laden sigh as he realized it was the only money he had left
to his name now.
He headed downtown, buying a pastry and
coffee on his way. He ate slowly while running through his memory
of rental brokers before the businesses opened. He had learned
about a few slumlords from other brokers who did investing for
them, even though he frowned upon the way those men earned their
fortunes. They provided substandard housing to desperate people for
a tremendous profit. The buildings were homes only in the sense
that they had four walls and a roof. Most of the time. Large, brick
tenements contained several apartments, crammed onto each floor.
They had unreliable heat sources, shoddy electrical wiring, and
leaky plumbing built in long after the original construction. They
were drafty, depressing places, and he was not looking forward to
having to call one home. Slumlords had made a decent amount of
money before the market crashed, and no doubt they would be raking
it in now. There were several offices dotted along the downtown
area, not counting the one he really did not want to go to.
∞∞∞
Caleb sighed and wrung his hands as he walked
a few miles, stopping to inquire at every rental agency. The
vacancies available were either too expensive or lacked heat and
electricity all together.
Now out of options, he slumped on a bench,
elbows on knees, head in hands and reluctant to go back to Jonathan
empty-handed. He would have to go to Victor Drayton. He shuddered
at the thought of renting from one of the most notorious slumlords
in New York, and Jonathan’s old rival to boot. From where he sat,
however, he saw no way around it. He rallied his resolve and set
out for Victor’s office. Jonathan’s history with Victor was on his
mind as he walked.
They had first arrived in New York around the
same time. Assigned to the same boarding house, they apprenticed at
one of the larger brokerages together. Jonathan had natural talent
whereas Victor struggled. He spent extra time in the evenings after
work coaching Victor, who should have been grateful, but loathed
Jonathan’s instinct even as he used him for knowledge. A year into
the apprenticeship, Jonathan came across some incriminating
information and exposed Victor to the firm for insider trading and
playing mole for a half-dozen rival brokerages. The apprenticeship
dismissed Victor and later Jonathan became a junior partner. Victor
bought his first abandoned building with money he had skimmed, made
it barely livable and began his business of taking advantage of
desperate immigrants fresh off the boat. He soon built a fortune,
and met Ava through some equally cunning friends with selfish
motives. Victor might have bullied her to the altar had Jonathan
not foiled those plans as well. Victor was controlling and
manipulative. When he set his sights on something, it rarely
escaped him. Jonathan’s downfall would bring outright joy to Victor
now. To see Jonathan come to nothing, unable to provide for himself
and Ava would be, for him, Christmas come early.
∞∞∞
Aryl left Claire nestled deep in silken, down
comforters and headed to the dock office to talk to his old
acquaintances.
He opened the door to an office labeled Lead
Foreman. Roman sat with his back to the door, talking animatedly on
the phone. Aryl cleared his throat, and Roman held up a finger.
Aryl smiled devilishly.
“Sir! I’m with the Bureau of Internal
Revenue,” he shouted with an authoritative tone. Roman jumped to
his feet, dropping the phone, his face gone white. Roman recognized
Aryl at once, and his head dropped in relief.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you scared the piss
outta me, Aryl.” He couldn’t help but laugh, though, as he wiped
beads of sweat from his forehead and hung up the phone.
“It’s been a long time, Aryl. How are you?”
he asked, reaching to shake his hand. “I heard about all the shit
that’s happened these last few weeks and especially yesterday.
Whew! What a mess. You guys get through that okay?”
“Well, not really. I wish this were a social
visit, but I need to call in a favor.” Aryl frowned.
“Nonsense. With you, it’s always a social
visit. Pull up a chair.” He walked to the door, glanced both ways
in the hall, then closed and locked the door. He returned, pulling
a bottle of rum and two small glasses from a bottom drawer. “Can’t
be too careful, you know?”
“So, lead foreman, eh?” Aryl nodded toward
the black stencil on the frosted glass of the door.
“Yeah, I guess hanging around this shithole
for so long finally paid off,” he said with a laugh. “Now, I know
you’re not here to celebrate my promotion. What is it, Aryl?”
“Well, remember a few years back when I did
some creative accounting work for you guys?”
“Hell yeah, saved our asses. Not just from
jail, but from our wives . . . not sure which would have been
worse!” he bellowed.
“Well, me and two of my friends, we need
jobs. It doesn’t matter doing what. We just need them quick.”
Roman’s face fell somber. “You guys didn’t
fare so well yesterday, did you?”
“We lost everything,” Aryl said without
emotion.
“I’m real sorry, Aryl.”
“Easy come, easy go.”
“Well, as luck would have it, I just got word
that two of my men aren’t coming back. I was going to replace them
with day workers, but I’d be happy to give those jobs to you and
your friend.”
“That’s great, Roman. I really appreciate it.
But there are three of us.”
“Right. Right,” he said, rubbing his chin.
“I’ll have to get that past the big boss. This company has taken
some blows right along with everyone else, you know, but luckily,
shipments have to continue. Just shipments of beans and rice in
place of radios and clothes, I’m predicting.” Aryl could care less
what was imported, but he tried not to show his impatience.
“Look, I’ll get it past the boss tomorrow.
Don’t you worry about that. You guys be here day after tomorrow,
and come in here to my office, don’t go where the day workers line
up.”
Aryl exhaled with relief. “Thanks,
Roman.”
“Don’t thank me just yet,” he laughed. “The
job is hard and the pay is shit.”
“Doesn’t matter, not right now, anyway.
Thanks again.” He shook Roman’s hand and quickly turned on his heel
to leave.
∞∞∞
Caleb paused at the front door of Victor’s
office, shook off thoughts of Jonathan, put on his best poker face
and walked in.
“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked,
without looking up. Caleb glanced at Victor’s closed office door.
No light escaped from under the door. Caleb cleared his throat.
“I’m looking for three apartments.”
She looked up at him curiously. “Three?”
“Yes, three. Myself and two friends of mine.
Do you have any available?”
She looked him up and down in confusion.
“Well.” She started thumbing through a small stack of paperwork. “I
believe we do. We just evicted a few yesterday. Would you like the
keys to go take a look?”
“No, thanks. I’ll take them.”
“You don’t even want to look?” She looked at
him, bewildered.
“I see there’s a run on cheap places to live.
I’ll take three.”
“Well, okay,” she muttered as she started to
gather the paperwork. “Now, you can fill out your paperwork, but
your friends will have to come in to fill out theirs.”
“What time will Mr. Drayton be in?” he asked
casually as he sat down to fill out the paper.
“Oh, there’s no telling. Depends on how good
of a time he had last night,” she said with a wink. He hurried
through the paperwork, gave the receptionist a deposit to hold the
places, and rushed back to Jonathan’s house.
∞∞∞
Good news!” Aryl called out. Jonathan and Ava
were talking in the parlor, and he interrupted their quiet
conversation. “I found us jobs.”
“You did?” Jonathan asked.
“That’s great, Aryl, well done.” Ava
smiled.
“Yep. They’re about the crappiest jobs in
town, very physical. Farm boy is going to be all right, but it's
gonna whip us pretty bad at first,” he said, holding up his hands
in warning. “The pay really stinks. But it’s a job. We start day
after tomorrow.” Just then, Caleb came bounding through the
door.
“Jonathan! Aryl! Come with me now. We have to
hurry.”
“Where to?” Jonathan asked.
“To sign paperwork. I found apartments. But
we have to hurry.” Jonathan pulled on his coat and gave Ava a hasty
kiss as he followed the others out the door.
∞∞∞
“So, Caleb, you wanna give us some details?”
Aryl asked. Caleb stopped short and spun around.
“Here it is.” He took a deep breath for words
he was sure would have to come out quickly. “I’ve been to every
place that rents anything close to cheap. Everything is filling up
fast. There are three apartments available, all in the same
building. They’re pretty bad, I’m sure. I didn’t take the time to
look at them, but it’s a roof with winter coming. Just a place to
land until we figure out something better. I filled out some
paperwork and put the money down, but you two have to come in to
sign your parts.”
“Okay but that doesn’t explain the rush,”
Aryl said.
Caleb turned tentatively to Jonathan. “Look,
I tried every other place first. I didn’t want to go to him, but he
had the only openings I could find, I swear. I’m sorry, but there’s
been a run on cheap places since the whole damn world fell apart.
Anyway, he wasn’t in when I was there earlier. With any luck, he
won’t be in when we get there. We can just run in, sign, get the
keys, and leave.” Jonathan knew exactly who Caleb was referring to.
He stared at him with apprehension.
“You’re kidding, right?” he asked, barely
above a whisper.
“No, I wish I was,” Caleb said
apologetically.
Jonathan put his hands on his head and turned
to walk a few paces in the opposite direction as fury welled up in
him. “You went to Victor Drayton for a place to live! Of all
people, Caleb?”
“There was nothing else avail–”
“There has to be something else,” Jonathan
growled through his teeth. “No.” He shook his head. “I won’t do it.
I’ll find something on my own. If you two want to rent from that
low life, good for nothing bastard, then be my guest.” He waved his
hand and started down the street. His angry pace was so brisk that
Caleb’s shorter legs had to sprint to catch up to him.
“Jon. You know that I wouldn’t have done this
if there were any other way. I know your past with him. I tried to
do everything by myself, but the receptionist insisted you both
come in. That’s all you have to do, run in and sign. Trust me, Jon,
there’s nothing else available in this town right now. I’ve been
all over.”
Jonathan continued walking. Caleb stopped and
called out, “If you want a roof over your head after Monday, this
is it! Hard as it is, you need to take it, Jonathan. Think of Ava.”
Jonathan stopped suddenly and turned his head slowly toward Caleb.
His eyes were blazing with fury.
“Shit,” Caleb muttered and took a step
back.
“And just what do you think I’ve been doing,
Caleb? Thinking of Ava and protecting her from that bastard from
the first moment I laid eyes on her. And now you expect me to put
her in one of his places? Where he can find her whenever he wants?
Only I don’t have the means to hire security any longer, now, do
I?”
Caleb dropped his head in frustration, and
Jonathan started walking again. Caleb looked at Aryl and shrugged
his shoulders. “Any ideas?”
“Nope.” He knew Jonathan well enough to
expect a lot more creative language from him. It always entertained
Aryl when Jonathan let loose with a long stream of infuriated
profanity. Caleb watched Jonathan walk on for another block and
felt helpless.
Then suddenly, Jonathan stopped. Something in
the alley to his right caught his eye. He turned and disappeared
into it.