Outlaws - An American Youth - [Charles Smith x OC]

Chapter 35 - Second Year

"Chicago, November 17, 1900.

Dear Charles,

Weeks go by and look alike. My life seems a little dull at the moment. The weather is gray, adding to that feeling. I continue to work a lot, like last year. But after these two months spent in the busy life of my family, the solitude of Chicago begins to weigh on me.

Of course, there are people at the pension, and I have long discussions with Mrs. Brown. But I didn't manage to build any special relationships with the other residents. There is this girl with whom I went out once. She took me on a saturday afternoon to a neighborhood I didn't know, in a gambling den in the basement of a building. There were mainly men there, but also some women. The atmosphere was rather cheerful, although the characters encountered did not exude honesty. I quickly realized that we were in one of the Outfit's lairs, one of the many gangs raging for control of Chicago.

Even thousands of miles away, I see you frowning and giving me that stern look that you use whenever I do something you don't like. Don't worry. When we went home, I told her that I will not be go with her anymore, that I have already had this kind of experience and that I did not want to start again.

I hope you will be proud of me. The life of an outlaw, whether in the Wild West or in cities, is behind me.

I hope you are well,

Fondly,

Anna."

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"Anna,

I know better than anyone how easy it is to fall back into this kind of life. I beg you, take care of yourself. You are on the right path for a new life, a decent life full of promise. Don't ruin everything.

I'm proud of you. Always. Keep going in this way.

Charles."

He had never answered me so quickly. He was really worried about me. He must have written this letter in haste, too worried that I wouldn't receive it in time for me to stay on the right track. His writing was less regular than usual, and he hadn't even taken the time to put the date.

Reading those words warmed my heart. Despite the loneliness, despite the distance, I had a loyal friend. This letter never left me. For months, I held it against my heart, pulling out of it the strength necessary to continue.

----

One day I was working in my room, I heard commotion in the foyer. Unable to concentrate anymore, I decided to go downstairs to see what was going on. Making my way among the boarders, I could finally understand.

Mrs. Brown had had a crazy impulse. She had ordered a brand-new piano, which was now being installed near the fireplace. Some were chirping, impatient to be able to show us their talents, real or not. They did not have to wait too long. I watched these demonstrations from a corner of the room, a little behind. A boarder came to meet me.

"Do you know how to play? I would love to hear from you.

- I haven't touched a piano in ages. Sometimes I even wonder if this life ever existed." I was silent for a few moments before resuming. "But maybe... Maybe one night I'll play it for you."

I smiled slightly before retiring for the night.

----

We had a particularly mild spring that year. One day, it was even hot enough for me to settle in the Washington Park, a few blocks from the university. I really liked this place. It was a huge island of greenery in the heart of Chicago. There, it was easy to forget that we were in one of the largest cities in the United States. The peace found there contrasted with the noise and bustle of the factories. The only noise came from the racetrack, where horses ran on certain days under the anxious eyes of the punters.

This park was built under the impulse of a local real estate tycoon. My university, we owed it to Rockefeller. Wherever I go, the magnates followed me. I was wondering if Cornwall had a university named after him somewhere in the country. He who had been the source of all our troubles, who had fattened Pinkerton, did he have a statue praising his contribution to the education of young Americans? Had he spent in books and stones money earned on the blood and tears of its thousands of employees?

Schools, hospitals... It seemed that wealthy men were giving away with one hand what they had taken away with the other. I saw misery in the streets of the city. Former workers with damaged bodies, aged prematurely, seeking an occupation not to starve.

I sighed. Sometimes Dutch's speech came to mind. No matter the madness that seized him at the end. His speeches on society were always right.

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"Chicago, April 24, 1901.

Dear Charles,

Everyone is talking about just one thing at the pension. Do you remember the girl who took me to an Outfit bar a few months ago? Well Mrs. Brown just kicked her out. She thought her associations with them were too present for the good reputation of her establishment. Fortunately, I did not follow her, I too would have been kicked out. I could have said goodbye to my studies. I would have ruined everything for an illusion.

I'm ashamed, but I must admit that I went there several times after the letter I sent you in November. I didn't mean to, but the spirit of freedom that reigned there attracted me. Each time, I went there out of melancholy. I thought I could find pieces of all of you there, as if we could revive a memory. I came out disappointed every time. I was there for the last time in February, determined not to return.

Her dismissal served me as a lesson. I promise I won't fall back in there anymore. I was heartbroken once, it won't happen again. Now, I focus on my studies and on this new life offered by you and Arthur.

I think of him from time to time. I do not cry anymore, but it still hurts. He sacrificed himself for all of us. I hope he found peace. Sometimes I wonder if I will be ever be able to make friends like the ones I had in the Dutch band.

But now I am gloomy. I'm sorry to stir the past like this. I think of you, I hope you are well and that you too are at peace.

Fondly,

Anna"

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One afternoon, when everyone seemed to have left the boarding house, I approached the piano. After slowly opening the fallboard, I pressed the keys one by one, rediscovering my feelings of yesteryear. Without further thinking, I let my hands run over the keyboard, forgetting everything around me. At the end of the song, an applause made me jump.

It was Mister Neumann, one of the boarders, the one who approached me the day the piano was installed. The man was in his fifties. He was discreet but pleasant. With him, I could talk about everything. He never judged anything, was ready to hear all opinions, all ideas. Each time, he enlarged my horizons, recommending me this or that book for me to instruct myself on a subject.

I suspected he had a secret love for Mrs. Brown. He was always looking for her company or helping her with this or that task. His face lit up as soon as the woman entered the same room as him. She herself did not seem oblivious to the discreet charm of the German. I smiled every time I saw them together. Who knows, maybe we would see a wedding in the pension in the coming months? That's all the harm I wanted them.

The rest of the year went by in the same way, with no significant events to report. Like the previous year, I passed my final exams with flying colors. I had finished college. In September, I would integrate the University of Medicine. Serious things would begin.