Authors: Mayandree Michel
“I think we are ready, Empress.” Bethany said and everyone nodded in agreement.
With a deep breath, I began reciting a chant that would teleport every Ischero.
“With light I tell the time in the place I see.”
“With light I tell the time in the place I see.”
“With light I tell the time in the place I see.”
The disciples were initially blinded by the white light that engulfed my body and spread out like wings around them in a fierce embrace. My bolt spiraled around us and looked more like a whirlpool of crackling barbed wire. For my disciples, it wasn’t harmful as it tore through them, raising each of them off the dirt floor. We spun around and around, whirling faster and faster until the blinding light dimmed and the current slowed. One by one, my disciples disappeared.
“We’re here.” I announced in a whisper. They still felt the effects of the lightning – static – as it slowly dissipated from their bodies. Everyone looked out of the steam train’s windows. I could feel every one of their emotions –anticipation – upon arriving in a new place and time. The memory of my father, and how he had spent a considerable amount of time in this city when it was still called New Amsterdam, entered my mind and I smiled to myself. I loved the idea of being in a place that my father once graced.
The train porters opened the doors of the train. We stepped down the narrow steel stairs and onto the shimmering stone platform of the grand station on this prosperous little island called Manhattan. I felt the rush of warm air against my exposed legs. We dodged hundreds of pairs of shoes as they clicked across the floor in zigzag patterns heading to their destinations.
A huge clock hung over the Pennsylvania Railroad Station’s tracks. No one said a word as we all seemed to listen as its hands ticked the day away. It was exactly noon. Through everyone’s excitement and joy, there was sadness that their parents hadn’t survived long enough to make the fresh start. I took one of Phoebe and Christopher’s hands and guided everyone out of the station and onto the wide sidewalk. The sunshine broke effortlessly though the thin veil of clouds in the sky and I couldn’t help smiling. No one, not one traveler, seemed to notice us as they pushed passed us in every direction. Why would they? We were donned in the fashions of this modern day and fit in perfectly. It was a beautiful June day in 1926 – June 1
st
, to be exact.
My demigoddesses, as well as I, had abandoned our tubular dresses, bustles, corsets, and replaced them with camisoles and bloomers. We wore the popular and shorter styled dresses – A-lined chemises in colorful, wispy fabrics with slits, gathers, and pleats. The dresses hung just below the knee. They were loosely fit and allowed more freedom and motion. Quite a few of us wore a matching close-fitting cloche hat. Crème rouge circled our cheekbones and every pair of eyebrows had been plucked and thinly penciled in.
The male members of the empire still wore suits, but they were lighter in weight. A few wore patterned double-breasted suits with pants at their natural waistline and cuffed at the hem. Others wore linen knickers, a patterned bow tie, and a V-neck sweater topped with a brimmed straw hat or driving cap. Their hair was trimmed, and slicked back behind their ears.
We’ll be known to be the wealthiest western pioneers of silver. We’ll fit in perfectly with the elite – the bankers, real estate investors and developers, railroad magnates, and steel tycoons who lived in luxurious buildings on this narrow strip of island. We’ll be considered, as they are, to be the Millionaires of New York’s wealthiest society.
This wealthy society with their old money or fortunes handed down from one family member to another without having worked a day for any of it was exactly what these fake upper crust New Yorkers believed set them above and apart from everyone else – the poor and working class. Actually, they were the ‘new money’, which they had dubbed those who had recently acquired fortunes. We, the Ischero Empire were the true benefactors, the real ‘old money’, and the wealthiest on this earth. In our mines, we created the silver and gold which these wealthy families started their businesses with, but of course we had to blend.
The plan was to live amongst these mortals—the winners from oil, steel, railroads, lumber, motorcars, banking, real estate, and moving-picture kings. We would make our home in sumptuous apartments in a steel-and-stone skyscraper on Park Avenue and give off the impression of running thriving and profitable businesses while keeping a non-existent profile from the Apolluon, wherever they may be lurking.
These mortals would have no idea of whom or what we are, which is the reason why I chose four luxurious apartment buildings on Park Avenue to purchase. I also planned to accept a few high society invitations in order to keep the gossipers at bay and the society mavens and mavericks in our good graces, although it wasn’t the first order of business.
We stood under the portico of the train station facing an enormous building that towered over the wide avenue. The hubbub of voices and bursts of automobile horns, as well as the screech of tires, mixed and made up all the sounds of the busiest area of New York City. Some vehicles zipped by as others stopped in front of the station to let out a passenger before weaving right back into the hectic flow of the afternoon traffic.
“We’ve traded in our carriages for roadsters. I can certainly get used to this!” Nikolas bellowed to everyone’s delight.
Suddenly Nikolas’ expression grew somber. “And traded free-flowing saloon’s for the Volstead Act.”
“Darlin’, they’re plenty of speakeasies to quench your thirst.” Bethany as well as the other members seemed delighted with the aspect of visiting the dance clubs where illegal liquor was sold. They could care less about the laws of these mortals, especially the Prohibition laws.
My little brother let go of my hand and stepped forward. He stood beside Nikolas and beamed from ear to ear. Then he took a deep breath and took in all the potent smells – choke provoking exhaust, the aroma of fried food, and the faint scent of perspiration – that filled the warm air. The change of scenery was a drastic one, yet a welcome one.
All of my disciples including Bethany, Victor, Nikolas and myself, although we had already had a taste of this type of landscaping since spending some time in the far off future, couldn’t ignore the scale of buildings that jutted upward slicing into the nearly cloudless sky as if racing to the heavens and Mt. Olympus. We had been to the future but had not seen Gothic architecture so magnificently proportioned. Each building was adorned with towers, steeples, and bartizans, which you’d expect to be erected on castles. One skyscraper peaked out from behind another and stood taller than the last. It was one enormous cube of masonry after another, which stood in almost unendurable monotony. The climbing structures blurred into the distance farther than what the mortal eye could see, but not our eyes.
“It’s where we belong.” Victor added, as he slipped his hand into mine. I slipped my hand out of his to his disapproval.
I searched through the crowd of members for Evan. My disciples started to pair off into twos and threes as they strolled up to the curb to hail a taxicab. Evan was walking up the avenue with Bethany and a few other disciples. I was about to call after him but Phoebe started tugging at my hand.
“Can we go to our new home now? I can’t wait to see my room,” she said in a high-pitched excitable voice.
“May we.” I corrected, smiling. “Of course, darling and we’ll ride there in a taxicab.”
Phoebe seemed satisfied with that and we boarded a cab as all the other members rode away in taxicabs to our very own apartment buildings. Each of us would be nestled in one of the four, towering, twenty story buildings, which we owned outright. I expected everyone to feel comfort as the newness gave way to familiarity once inside their new home. It wasn’t until I sat in the backseat of the brougham cab that I realized how right Victor had been. The Pennsylvania Railroad station with its colonnade of Greek columns, joined by their entablature, was in the image of the Parthenon. This was where we belonged.
“Where to, Miss?” The cab driver asked, somewhat impatiently.
“277 Park Avenue, please.”
The driver merged into traffic and nearly careened into a horse drawn carriage before heading up the avenue.
Park Avenue was parallel to Fifth Avenue - its skyscraper office buildings, and two blocks east of it. The Avenue, from Forty-Sixth to Ninety-Sixth Street, was a succession of colossal packing cases, the mass production of millionaires. The park space, which sat in its center and under the rumbling trains of the New York Central, blossomed into a formal garden strip of grass and shrubs.
Our building was a dramatic departure from the mansions of Nickel City. It sat with infinite solidity on its full city block. It was a broad street, running like an arrow from north to south. Each apartment had double floors and a servant’s wing and equipped with everything we needed including brand new furnishings shipped in from Europe and an extensive wardrobe representing the finest fashions of the day.
My duplex roof apartment, which was on the top story of one of the buildings, was a separate apartment perched on the top of the monolith, with light on all four sides. Inside, a 160 foot long vaulted hall ran the length of our apartment. My little brother and sister, and I walked through the enormous living room beneath a geometrically patterned coffered ceiling and the library, which reminded me very much of the one I enjoyed in the former Tieron estate. Its dark oak shelves held the same books and paintings. Across from the library was the oak paneled dining room with its crystal chandeliers, which hung in each of the rooms four corners. Next was the billiard room, which quickly became Christopher’s favorite room.
We went up the circular staircase that led to almost half a dozen bedrooms and four baths. Hidden on the balustrade below the second story was another portion of the apartment, which provided sleeping quarters for Sun Paw and Light Shine who had seemed just as eager to leave Nickel City.
I chose to Glamour them, leaving them only to remember a long train ride before arriving here. By Glamouring them, the adjustment to the new time would also be effortless and they would believe they had lived the twenty years we jumped in time while seeing their age across their faces and bodies. Perhaps it was selfish of me to rob them of twenty years, but they would feel as if they lived it.
“How do you like your new home?” I asked them, although I already knew the answer by the way they didn’t bother repressing their joy, as children never do.
“I love it, Delia.” Phoebe gushed.
“I do too.” Chris agreed, nodding.
“Why don’t we tour the entire apartment?” I suggested.
After a few hours, Phoebe and Christopher were settled in their rooms, I decided to contact the rest of the empire. By now, I hoped that they were settled in. My disciples and I had a clear understanding. We looked to a better future for our empire. Everyone wanted the same thing – to live in peace no matter how improbable that seemed now. I know that many of my disciples were still in anguish over losing their parents and wanted them avenged. I wanted the same thing, but first I must resurrect my parents – the mission was still the highest priority on my agenda and the real reason for leaving Nickel City, not the coincidental persecution of mortals.
Persecution? The idea was laughable, but necessary in guaranteeing a clean break to New York, the place of my parents’ burial.
I dressed in a floral patterned, silk chemise that was just a few inches passed my knees. I parted my hair on one side, pulled it into a loose chignon, and secured it at the nape of my neck with a ruby stoned comb. I slipped on my T-bar strap heels and headed out of the building. I sped down the avenue in my royal blue Rolls-Royce Phantom.
Eighteen - Cordelia
The Truth Lies in the Eyes
Of course, I called on Evan first. He, his sister, and Nikolas were situated in the top story duplex apartment in a building just two blocks away. Somehow, I would have to bare the loss of Nikolas’ company, but I knew what he wanted more than anything – to live with his betrothed.
The doorman greeted me with a casual ‘How do you do miss’, and showed me to elevator. Once out of the elevator, I stood in the Evan’s vast hall entrance. Evan met me at the end of the hall in a cream-colored linen suit. His two-tone brown wingtips tapped on the marble flooring. The view of him was far more majestic – towering and elegant – than anything, I had seen since arriving in Manhattan.
“What took you so long?” Evan planted a kiss on my forehead. “I was just about to jump into my Mercedes Breezer.”
The kiss was a sweet gesture, but not the kind I had expected. He took my hand and led me down the main hall to the rear of the apartment. We stepped out onto the spacious terrace, which allowed a breathtaking view of city. In the center of the balcony was a statue of a mermaid floating in the center of a circular water fountain.
Evan held my hand to his cheek for a second before bringing it to his lips. He kissed my hand and said, “You look absolutely stunning, doll.”
“You look pretty spiffy yourself.” We both giggled, and it felt like old times. Evan led me to a small patio table that was set for two in the left corner of the patio. He pulled out one of the wicker chairs and motioned for me to sit down. I obliged and immediately caught a strange look in his piercing blue eyes.
“Does this feel like home?” I asked.
“No,” he said as he took the seat across from me. “Not until you join me.”
“Is that what you really want?” I couldn’t help wondering about his feelings for Evangelia.
“I wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t. Like you, I can change a lot of things –what one can see,” Evan said referring to our gift of Glamouring. “But I can’t change what I feel for you. You’re in my heart, Delia. Not so long ago, it was also, what you wanted. Has that changed?”