“What on earth are you doing?” she asked, slipping her dress over her head.
“You’ll see,” he said, grinning.
∞∞∞
“Didn’t you tell those brats we didn’t have any candy?”
“Yeah, I’ll tell them again,” Caleb said, opening the door and immediately doubling over with laughter.
“Trick or Treat!” Aryl yelled. He stood before Caleb dressed entirely as a woman. He wore one of Claire’s dresses with the top stuffed to create a hefty bosom, a strand of pearls, pink curlers snapped into his short hair and a full face of makeup. Claire stood behind him, giggling. Caleb laughed for several minutes and every time he got control of himself, he would look up at Aryl and begin laughing again. Even Arianna was smiling and soon began laughing at Caleb, who couldn’t stop laughing at Aryl. After a while, they all regained composure.
“Sorry, Aryl, I don’t have any candy,” he said and started laughing again.
“Rum?” Aryl asked.
“That I might have,” Caleb said, and got an idea of his own. He pulled Aryl inside.
“Wait here. I’ll be right back,” he said and dashed out the door and downstairs to the deli and bought a roll of sausage, a half-pound of cheese, a loaf of sourdough bread, three candied apples, and a small pumpkin. He dashed back to the apartment, out of breath.
“Okay, Ahna, you gotta do the same thing to me. Then we’ll go over to Jon’s,” he said, holding up the bag of groceries he bought.
Arianna shook her head. “I’ll do my best, but I don’t know if I can make you look as good as Aryl.” She laughed as she set to work dressing Caleb up. “He’s pretty cute,” she admitted.
∞∞∞
“What are you reading?” Ava asked, sitting closer to Jonathan. She looked at the title before he could answer. “I haven’t read that yet.” Jonathan’s mind flashed back to the conversation in the alley the day before.
“Better yet, why don’t I read it to you?”
She nodded and curled up next to him, her head on his shoulder, and watched the fire as he read.
Just as he started the second chapter, hard rapping on the door interrupted him.
“This is getting ridiculous,” he groaned.
“Don’t answer it. It might be that woman again,” Ava whispered.
“And if it is, I’m going to tell her exactly where to take her problems,” he said, pushing himself off the worn-out couch.
“Trick or Treat!” Aryl and Caleb yelled together, as Jonathan opened the door. He took a step back and shook his head, then laughed.
“You’ve lost your damn minds,” Jonathan said when he stopped laughing.
“It’s Halloween! Don’t tell me you're turning into Scrooge,” Caleb said through beautifully painted, red lips.
“Don’t you have your holidays confused?” Jonathan asked.
Caleb shrugged. “Same difference. Here, I brought party food,” he said, holding up the bag of groceries.
“And I brought Caleb's rum!” Aryl said, holding up the bottle.
“For what party?” Jonathan asked, confused.
“Our party,” Caleb said, pushing past him and handing the bag to Ava. “However,” Caleb started with one eyebrow cocked, “all of us are not properly dressed for the occasion,” he said and smiled at Jonathan.
“What exactly do you mean?” he asked cautiously.
Arianna handed him a balled up wad of fabric. He held it up to see that it was one of Arianna’s dresses.
“Oh, no. I think not,” Jonathan said, tossing it back.
“Party isn’t starting until everyone is in costume,” Caleb said matter-of-factly.
“Forget it,” Jon countered.
Aryl held up the bottle. “No party, no rum,” he said, shrugging.
“C’mon, Jon! It’ll be fun,” Ava said, hugging his arm. He covered his eyes with his hand and shook his head.
“I can’t believe this.”
Arianna clapped her hands. “I’ll help you with the makeup,” she offered as they dragged him off to the bathroom, still protesting.
Claire cut up the sausage, cheese, and bread. She set the pumpkin in the middle of the table, turned off the glaring, overhead bulb in the living room, lit some candles, and stoked the fire. Aryl went to fetch more chairs from their apartment.
Finally, they shoved him out of the bathroom, and the whole room roared with laughter.
“Damn, you’re beautiful!” Aryl yelled. He stood there patiently while everyone laughed and complimented him on his make-up and curlers, which barely clung to his short black hair.
“Where’s my drink?” he said when the laughter died down. Caleb handed him a glass then held up his own.
“To six of the most beautiful gals in the world!” he toasted.
Jonathan looked over at Aryl. “I don’t even need to ask whose idea this was.” He relaxed a little and smiled. “This has you written all over it, Aryl.”
For the next few hours, they talked, ate, and spontaneously erupted with laughter. The soft candle and firelight combined with copious amounts of rum masked the dreary apartment somewhat, and Jonathan’s mood lightened considerably. Caleb glanced at his watch, walked over to the radio, hiked his dress up and squatted in front of it to adjust the tuner until he found a Halloween special. They moved to the living room and sat on the couch and floor near the fire, listening to the show, which turned out to be more funny than scary. When it was over, Caleb stretched, straining the seams of Arianna’s dress.
“We better get going. We’ve got a big day tomorrow, fellas.”
Jonathan’s heart sank as this brought him back to reality. He didn’t want to think about tomorrow. He was perfectly content to stay in the present moment, where the mood was light, the drinks were plentiful, and his friends surrounded him, no matter how strangely they were dressed.
November 1st 1929
Jonathan stared at the ceiling as the shrill ring of the alarm clock sounded at six-thirty. Glancing at the annoying noise, he wished he had brought a different clock, any other clock. He preferred the soft chimes of the ornate grandfather clock that used to sit just outside his bedroom door. But that was his old life. In this new life, he silenced the clock and tried to stretch out his sore back and neck muscles. Ava stirred and stretched, wincing as she woke to protesting muscles as well.
“How’d you sleep?” he asked her, rolling over to give her a quick kiss.
“Horrible. It feels like I slept on a pile of rocks.”
“I might have slept better on a pile of rocks.”
“Maybe we should move to the floor. At least that would be a flat surface.” She poked at the lumps and divots in the mattress. “Or maybe this weekend we can try to stuff the holes, even it out a bit,” she said.
“Or we can buy a new mattress.”
“I don’t know if we should spend the money.” She walked to the bathroom, rubbing her lower back. He dug through a pile of clothes to find the pants he wore the day before and pulled on a wool sweater.
“Hey, I’ll be right back. I’m going to grab us something to eat,” he called to her. While he was gone, she needed to take a quick bath but hadn’t had the forethought to bring soap, so she simply rinsed off and made a mental note to buy some when she went out. Dressing for the day was also somewhat challenging. She was accustomed to dressing her best when she left the house, but now she had to dress simple, so as not to stand out. But even her plainest dress was nicer than what other women in this neighborhood were wearing. She settled on a pink dress, which had a low ribbon waist and a three-tiered skirt. She covered it with a long, cream-colored sweater. She heard Jonathan return as she was buckling the straps on her shoes.
“Did Maura pack the percolator?” he called out. “I picked up a pound of coffee.”
“I think so,” she said. “I’ll make some while you clean up,” she said, taking the small bag from him and giving him a passing peck. He grabbed her before she could pass him and hugged her
tight. He let go of her after a moment and turned without a word to get ready for the day.
She found two sweet rolls and four large breakfast sausages wrapped in butcher paper. She set to frying them, after struggling with the pilot light of the gas stove. Jonathan emerged from the bathroom in a dress shirt, tie, and black pants. She poured their coffee and set the sizzling sausages and sweet rolls on the small table. They ate in silence, not quite sure what to talk about. He dreaded the day before him, and she had no idea what she would do with herself once she bought soap and a few groceries. A knock on the door interrupted the uncomfortable silence.
“I figured as much,” Caleb said, glancing over him as Jonathan opened the door.
“Figured what?” Jonathan asked.
“Here.” He handed him a blue work shirt. “You don’t need a shirt and tie for what we’re going to be doing today. The pants will do, I suppose, but they’ll get ruined,” Caleb warned.
“I don’t really have anything suitable for manual labor,” Jonathan said, irritated. Caleb pointed to the shirt in Jonathan’s hands.
“That’s why I brought you that.”
“Thanks,” Jonathan muttered and went to the bathroom to change.
“Would you like some coffee, Caleb?” Ava asked.
“No, thanks. We’re going to have to get a move on, or we’re going to be late.” Ava nodded and started clearing the table. A few moments later, Jonathan appeared in the blue shirt, which didn’t look right with the dress slacks or black shoes.
“Did you pack a lunch?” Caleb asked.
“No.” Jonathan hadn’t packed a lunch since high school. He wasn’t sure why, but he found the idea utterly demeaning.
“We’ll buy something today, but from now on, we’re going to want to bring lunch. It’ll save money. Aryl’s waiting outside so we better get going,” he said, smiled politely to Ava and turned, leaving them to their goodbyes.
“Don’t go out alone today,” Jonathan said, walking over to Ava. “Make sure you girls stick together when you go shopping. And don’t wander too far. If you need to go more than a block or two away, I’ll take you after I get home,” he said, pulling money out of his wallet. “This should cover whatever you need to pick up today,” he said and laid a ten-dollar bill on the table.
“That will more than cover it,” she said. She straightened his collar and smoothed down the shoulders of the thick shirt. “Try to have a good day,” she added sympathetically. She could see the toll the week had taken on him. The normal brilliance of his blue eyes was dulled, his face sullen, his brow furrowed, dark circles shadowed his eyes and his rounded shoulders sagged; the picture of an entirely defeated soul. He nodded, unable to promise an effort aloud and simply pulled her close.
“If it wasn’t for you, Ava,” he whispered in her ear. She didn’t want him to finish the sentence, already having a vague idea of what he meant. She pulled her head back and smiled.
“I’ll make a nice dinner tonight, all right? What would you like?”
“Hmm.” He looked up at the ceiling while he thought, his hands still laced together on the small of her back. “Steak and lobster.” She laughed, shaking her head at his ridiculous request.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she said, rising up on her toes. A kiss goodbye quickly turned fervent. It was the first decent kiss they had shared in a week, and he savored every second of it. Lifting her at the waist, he took two steps forward, pinning her against the wall and continued to kiss her with growing intensity.
Caleb knocked on the open door twice, clearing his throat while respectfully looking down at the floor. Jonathan pulled away reluctantly and sighed.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he said quietly and squeezed her one last time. She smiled, her eyes following him until the door closed. Still leaning against the wall, she took a deep breath and folded her arms, looking around the drab apartment. It seemed larger and colder now that she was alone. The hollow day loomed before her, and the last thing she needed was more time to think. There was busy work she could occupy herself with, but even if she took painstaking detail with each task, she would never fill the day. She tuned the radio and began her mundane chores.
∞∞∞
The walk to the shipping dock was brisk. They passed the gate where the day workers gathered and heard the supervisor announce how many men were needed for the day. The workers clamored and yelled over each other in hopes of being chosen. Caleb swatted Jonathan in the chest with the back of his hand as they walked past.
“We’re lucky,” he said, gesturing to the frenzy of desperate day workers. Jonathan was hardly in a frame of mind to consider himself lucky. They walked around the corner, dodging delivery trucks, vendors haggling deals and men selling apples from crates. They passed a man standing beside his new automobile with a defeated look on his face. There was a cardboard sign set on the windshield; shaky handwriting offered the Packard for $100 cash. A newspaper boy shouted the day’s headlines that the worst was over and recovery had begun both here and abroad. The friends paid no attention to this, especially Jonathan. He shut his eyes tightly as he walked by. He knew in his soul nothing would ever be normal again.
Aryl led them through the side entrance of a brick building and made his way back to Roman’s office.
“Aryl, good to see you. These the friends you were talkin’ about?”
Aryl nodded. “Roman, this is Jonathan Garrett and Caleb Jenkins.” Roman nodded at each of them before he turned to his desk.
“Got some paperwork for you boys to fill out. Just basic employment stuff. Should only take a few minutes. I didn’t have near as much trouble getting the big boss to approve the third guy. You know the positions I was trying to fill when you came to see me, Aryl? Well, I found out later that two of our guys took a flying leap off a tall building. Put every hard earned cent into those stocks and lost everything they ever worked for.” He paused, shaking his head. “Nice guys, too. Anyway, a third guy busted up his arm pretty bad yesterday, so it all worked out I guess,” he said, handing out the small packets of papers. “Get that filled out and I’ll show you around. Then I’ll get you boys to work.”
Ten minutes later, Roman was leading the trio out the back of the office building into the bustling shipping yard. “The large cranes lift crates and pallets off the ship deck and lower them to the platform here. These forklifts carry each load to different areas. These little inventions sure have made life easier. Anyway, once inventoried, it’s hand-loaded onto the trucks for delivery. That’s what you boys will be doing.” Jonathan was visibly irritated at Roman’s repeated use of the term boys and resented being spoken to as if he had no idea how a shipping yard operated.
A tall, thin man with a very weathered face appeared next to Roman.
“These the new hires?”
“Yeah. Harvey, this is Caleb and Jon,” Roman said, pointing to each. “And you remember Aryl. This is your supervisor, boys. You’ll report to him and he’ll show you what to do. I’ve got a meeting, so I’ll let you take over, Harvey. See you around, boys.”
Harvey turned to face Aryl. “Good to see you again.”
“You, too, Harvey. How’s the family?”
“Good. Guess we better get you boys started on the day. Don’t know if Roman told you, hours are eight to six, Monday through Saturday. You get an hour for lunch. You bring gloves?” Only Caleb pulled a pair out of his back pocket.
“Well, you’ll live one day without them,” he said to Aryl and Jonathan. “But I’d get some soon. This job’ll tear up a pair of hands quick, and,” he laughed lightly as he gestured to Jonathan, “those fancy slacks won’t make it through the day.” Jonathan’s face burned red with embarrassment and frustration. “Loading area's down here. Follow me.”
He ordered Jonathan and Aryl to start unloading a pallet of hundred-pound sacks of flour onto a delivery truck and took Caleb down to a different area to work on a pallet of sacks of potatoes. There was no shortage of work. As soon as one
pallet was cleared, the forklift would position another near a waiting truck. Jonathan’s back was aching before the first hour was up, and Aryl’s hands had started to blister.
∞∞∞
Ava paced the living room, having finished the breakfast dishes, made the bed, wiped down the bathroom, and cleaned out the fireplace from last night’s fire. She had swept the floors twice and cleaned the windows around the masking tape. She buttoned her sweater and put on her hat, having decided to go up and see Claire. She paused at the door, listening for the beady-eyed woman, whom she knew wouldn’t stop talking once given the opportunity to start. She slipped out the door and up the stairs to the next floor.
Claire opened the door and hugged Ava before moving aside to let her in.
“I was just about to come down and see you,” she said, as Ava walked into the living room.
“I couldn’t bear to just sit there any longer,” Ava said, rolling her eyes. “I thought we could go out and get some shopping done together. There's a few things I need. We’ll get Arianna, too.” Ava walked over to the fireplace to look closer at the wall where Claire had started outlining. There were pencil sketch beginnings of a beach and waves on one side, an outline of billowing clouds on the other side but nothing in the middle.
“I’m working on our beach,” Claire said proudly. “Just over the fireplace I’m going to paint the lighthouse. And on the other side of the lighthouse, I’ve outlined storm clouds. I can’t work on those until I get some black paint,” she said, tracing the pencil drawn outline of the waves with her finger. “I can work with pencils for now.”
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