Vintage Memories

Chapter Twenty-One "The Light At The End Of The Tunnel"

The midday sun stood proudly at its highest station in the sky. A gargantuan streamliner barreled down the tracks in a symphony of clashing metal and rapidly spinning wheels, heading south.

Anthony relaxed, alone in his assigned sleeper car, staring out the window at the scenery streaking by. His eyes traced the rolling mountains out in the distance, seeming to remain firmly fastened where they stood as everything else flew by in a blink of an eye. It was peculiar, his eyes captured in the sun's  rays, they seemed to lose their blue luster, looking a crystalline ice—shining like clear glass.

After the riling confrontation with his brother, it took many grueling months before his father granted him another job in New Orleans. He did every feasible act within his power to get on his father's good side, obeying whatever he was ordered without conflict; performing any odd jobs demanded of him. The copious amounts of toeing-the-line and ass-kissing left the prideful mobster sick to his stomach, but in the end, it was all worth it to earn back that southland city.

The rumbling tremors of the train careening across the tracks shot up through the car floor and ascended his legs, which were comfortably crossed as he reclined in his rented room. Nearing the half-way point of his cross country journey, he was beginning to grow vehemently weary. Despite the amenities provided to him, he found out long ago that the train cars were far from a comfortable place to sleep. Luckily, he had ways to entertain himself when sleep eluded him.

A pad of paper lay flat on the table before him, the blonde scribbling across it with a lead pencil. The simple delineations began to resemble the detailed shapes of the roaring mountains he was peering out the window at. With his adeptness in forging writing and signatures, sketching came rather easily to the young mobster, who would often delve into his artistic tendencies to alleviate stress.

It had been—by far, the longest amount of time since he had seen his cajun lover, and although they exchanged frequent letters, the distance was starting to wane on Anthony's sanity. He missed Allen dearly, and with that, he was already halfway out the door before his brother even finished relaying the offer of a New Orleans job from their father. The lack of sleep he garnered during the journey weighed heavily on him, pulling a fatigued yawn from his lungs, but he was unperturbed. He intended on sleeping soundly in the arms of his lover tonight. No worry of Allen's governing parents; without the constraint of time that came with them circumventing conjecture. Just the mere envision of that unbounded freedom sent an excited jolt through his body, that brief complexity of sensations traveling further down to his trousers. Nothing arose from it—thank god.

A small radio sat perched on the table he was sketching upon, a light tune bouncing through the speaker. Anthony hummed the jovial tune to himself as he focused on the developing drawing before him, until he heard the song slowly fade out and a familiar voice came through the radio speaker.

"That was I Got Rhythm performed by the astounding Ethel Merman. And to you, ladies and gentleman, I bid you my humblest of gratitude for tuning in on this beautiful day. You see, today is especially important to me, my sweet is visiting me from out of state." Anthony's heart panged in his chest, his drawing ceasing as he looked to the small box, "darling, if you are indeed listening, here is a nice little ditty to welcome you back to this little town by the bayou. I present to you: Fred Astaire's, The Way You Look Tonight."

With that, a new, starkly slower tune erupted from the speaker, just as instantly as the blushing grin that spread across the blonde's face. He bit his lip slightly to contain a flustered giggle, leaning his cheek against his knuckles as he stared longingly at the playing radio.

He received word via letter regarding Allen's success at finally landing his radio show a few months prior, mailing him in return an abundance of support and praise for his accomplishment. It was rather challenging to get the radio station his lover performed on in New York, but every chance he got, he would show his support by listening to Allen's work. Allen truly thrived on air, coming to life as he relayed his fascinating anecdotal stories and exciting news reels, interwoven with his well-rounded and tasteful choice of swinging jazz music. His charming and witty personality was quickly garnering attention, and with it, his number of faithful listeners. The young up-and-comer was quickly becoming the talk of the town, and the blonde had every intention of celebrating his lover's new found success once he stepped foot off this train.