BOSTON
MY DEAREST ZAC
I'M SO HAPPY TO HEAR FROM YOU AND I'M HAPPY YOU'RE SAFE AND THAT YOU'LL STAY IN ONE PLACE LONG ENOUGH SO I CAN TELEGRAM YOU A FEW TIMES STOP DADDY SAYS I HAVE TO TRY NOT TO MAKE THESE TOO LONG THOUGH STOP I WANTED TO TELL YOU THAT I ATE LUNCH WITH BILLY CONNORS YESTERDAY STOP I WANTED YOU TO KNOW STOP I DON'T WANT TO KEEP A SINGLE THING FROM YOU STOP PLEASE DON'T LET IT UPSET YOU STOP HE WANTED TO APOLOGIZE TO ME FOR BEING SO ROTTEN THE NIGHT OF THE DANCE AND HE WANTED TO APOLOGIZE TO YOU, TOO, BUT HE DIDN'T KNOW YOU'D ALREADY GONE STOP HE SAYS HE HAD A LOT OF TIME TO THINK WHEN HE WAS IN BED, INJURED STOP I TOLD HIM HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU AND HE TOLD ME ABOUT HIS CRUSH ON SUE WILKERSON STOP HE ASKED ME FOR ADVICE STOP WHAT ADVICE WOULD I HAVE TO GIVE HIM ABOUT SUCH THINGS STOP
ZAC I DO LOVE YOU AND I MISS YOU TERRIBLY, EACH DAY MORE THAN THE LAST STOP PLEASE BE SAFE AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF STOP HUG ISAAC AND TAYLOR FOR ME STOP TELL THEM JUDITH AND AISHE SEND THEIR LOVE STOP AND I LOVE YOU ZAC STOP I CAN'T STAY THAT ENOUGH STOP I'M SENDING YOU A KISS WITH THIS TELEGRAM STOP I LOVE YOU STOP MY HEART IS WITH YOU STOP I LOVE YOU STOP
YOURS FOREVER
BESSIE
A strange sense of relief washed over Zac as he drove his brothers into Boston, Massachusetts on that Independence Day morning. There had been no more hiccups along the way after the oil-changing fiasco and, despite the hang-up, they still managed to make it to their destination a couple of hours early.
Zac hadn't smiled much so far on this trip, but he finally did upon sight of the harbor, knowing they would finally halt their traveling for a few days. In the past, traveling long distances like this had never bothered him. In fact, he used to enjoy it. But now the extra emphasis on making it from point A to point B in one piece was proving to be extremely stressful. After all, having something to live for made you look at life with a more watchful eye and more careful footsteps.
Driving the last leg into Boston wasn't without headache, however. Taylor had insisted on sitting in the front seat after having been banished to the back all of the previous day, and he had further insisted on being the primary navigator as he draped the map obnoxiously over his lap and drove Zac straight to the nuthouse with his inability to keep the road names straight. After five minutes of screaming at each other and dodging at least three ditches in the process, Taylor was now hanging halfway out the window with his camera poised at the harbor while Isaac draped his arms over the front seat with the map, expertly guiding Zac into the city.
The brothers hadn't been to Boston in at least five years and it felt completely foreign to them with the way it seemed to have grown so fast in that short amount of time. All of the old buildings still stood, literally standing the test of time, the hustle and bustle was still roughly the same. All the familiar smells, the sounds, the sights...in hindsight, maybe it wasn't the city that had grown up in the last five years--maybe it was the Hanson brothers that had.
Maneuvering the travel trailer they hauled down the narrow streets that it took to get to the fairgrounds they would be playing at for the next few days, Zac was experiencing a brand new level of stress. In fact, all three brothers were as two pairs of eyes watched out the back window intently and Zac white-knuckled the steering wheel and looked at absolutely nothing else but the road in front of them. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, tensions began to lift as they finally drove onto the grass of the fairgrounds.
There were several trailers and wagons littering the property, but the entire place looked deserted. Finally able to stop the car and get out and stretch their bodies, the brothers took a look around at the quiet "neighborhood." Taylor curled his lip up in confusion. "Is this where trailers come to die?"
Isaac elbowed his younger brother in the ribs as he shielded his eyes from the bright sun and examined their surroundings. Several yards away, on the door of a large travel trailer, was a large, white sheet of paper. Curiosity led the brothers to the door and Isaac shielded his eyes once more to read aloud from it. "Entertainers: Park your trailers and wagons here and bring yourselves to 21 Beacon Street along with your personals. Ask for Barney Harper."
"Our personals?" Taylor mused. "This is crazy, we just got here. What I want to do is take my personals inside for a nap."
Zac shared Taylor's sentiment, but Isaac was already headed back to the car. Begrudgingly, the younger brothers followed and, before they knew it, they were back to maneuvering through Boston's city streets.
Taylor, with his usual place hanging outside the window with his camera in his face, suddenly whipped his body around and back into the car as they came up on a hotel as tall and as large as life. "Hey!" He said excitedly. "I know where we are, we've been here before! This is the Bellevue!" Then he pulled his body completely inside and fell into the passenger seat. "Ike, you sure this is the right address?"
"It is," he said, folding the map up. "Part of me wants to be surprised but the other part of me knows I probably shouldn't be."
The Hotel Bellevue resided on Beacon Hill as a massive, elegant, European-style structure that sat directly next to the State House with the infamous copper dome that crowned the top. As they pulled up along Beacon Hill and up to the hotel's doors, valets in white gloves were much too eager to help the brothers out of their car. Politely turning them down, Isaac insisted that they park themselves and was then directed around the corner of the building to a small parking lot where they could park themselves, tip-free.
Despite being told to bring along their personals, the three men rounded the hotel once more and entered the front doors with nothing but Taylor's camera in his hand. The interior was much as they remembered it, with elaborate chandeliers hanging from the ceilings, intricate carvings in the ceilings, and marble floors that shined underneath their feet. It almost didn't feel real to Zac due to how long it had been since they'd been in the presence of such luxury. Not too long ago, luxury such as this had been their life. It was normal for them. Vaudeville paid handsomely once upon a time and once upon a time, it was nothing for the brothers to walk into hotels like this where nobody questioned them, everybody knew their name, and they spent their nights in Egyptian cotton after drinking champagne with politicians and artists.
Now, though. Now it stung a little bit when the receptionist asked for their names at the front desk.
"We're, uh, we're here to see Barney Harper?" Isaac asked the brunette receptionist. "He says to ask for him, I'm assuming this is where--"
"Room 604," she interrupted him. Then she slid a set of keys across the marble counter at him. "Here are your keys. Room 712. There are only two beds, though. Two of you will have to share."
"Not it!" Zac called out.
His older brothers glared at him as he fought to hide his smug grin.
Getting back to business, Isaac turned his attention back to the receptionist. "Now hold on a minute. We didn't make a reservation--"
"You didn't. Take it up with Mr. Harper. Enjoy your stay."
The brunette obviously preferred to be left alone and the brothers went in search of an elevator in surprise and confusion. They'd hauled a travel trailer fifteen hundred miles in a nearly dilapidated automobile. Now they had a room in one of the fanciest hotels in the northeast? Had they missed something in their brief correspondence?
It took no time at all for a young lady to answer the door to room 604, the red hallway carpet turning into a golden yellow as they stepped in through the door frame. It was awkward walking into a man's personal hotel room, but their curiosity, thankfully, took precedence over any awkwardness that was to be had. The room appeared to be a small suite with a sitting area in an opposite room from the bedroom and bathroom. Sitting at a desk by a window draped in white sheer, was a slender, middle-aged man with brown hair slicked loosely back and a mustache that was perfectly trimmed to his face. Underneath his elbows were several separate stacks of paperwork, one of them being held down by the ashtray he currently tapped his ashes into. Zac's mouth watered at the scent of the fresh cigarette smoke, unsure of why he suddenly craved a cigarette right in that very moment, seeing as he was far from a regular smoker.
Upon their entry into the room, the man looked up and smiled a jovial smile at them as he sat his cigarette down in the ashtray. "Gentlemen! So glad you finally made it! It's great to finally meet you. Name's Barney Harper. I'm running this outfit. Great to have you on board."
Mr. Harper stood and shook the hands of the three brothers as they introduced themselves and he sat back down and rifled through some papers on his desk. Finally producing a few sheets, Mr. Harper began to explain to them, "We have four locations this troupe is playing. Starting tomorrow, a three-day stint here in Boston. After that, we head over to Philadelphia for the last half of the week. Then we go to New York where four days is spent at Coney Island before we finish it off with a theatre production that runs for an approximate week. I hope you boys are well-rehearsed. This month you'll be seen by a good lot of this country's political elite. And since you're headlining the theatre production, I expect you not to smear my good name into the ground. We clear?"
"Absolutely," Isaac replied enthusiastically. "We won't let you down."
"I trust you won't. Here is your schedule, itinerary, addresses to each location..."
"Excuse me," Taylor interjected as Isaac collected the papers and examined them. "The receptionist downstairs gave us keys..."
"Good!" Mr. Harper said brightly. "Your night's stay tonight is on us. We want our entertainers to have a good night's rest before we get started tomorrow. I know most of you are likely tired and weary from your journeys and we need you all at your best tomorrow. Eat, drink, be merry, enjoy the Independence Day festivities, and rest tonight. Tomorrow starts early!"
As Taylor's jaw dropped, dumbfounded, Zac picked up his words for him. "Thank you, sir. Thank you so much, we really appreciate this. The room and the opportunity."
"Think nothing of it. You think we could very well have a vaudeville reunion without The Incredible Hansons? Why, you'd have to be out of your mind!"
Zac felt like he was on top of the world. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in...well, in at least five years. Except for the moments when Bessie looked at him like he was the greatest thing since sliced bread, that was. God, he was so mixed up right now. But he wasn't totally unhappy. The truth was, he was excited about performing tomorrow. In fact, he was anxious to spend the rest of the night rehearsing. But first, he snatched the itinerary out of Isaac's hand and darted out of Barney Harper's hotel room, uncaring of how unprofessional he must have looked just then and how angry he probably had made his brother.
He made his way straight downstairs and wasted no time using the hotel telephone to phone the telegram office. As he dictated his telegram, tour schedule included, to the lady on the other end, he grew increasingly frustrated at how long it was taking her to type out his message. She asked him to repeat himself on several occasions, and even to spell a word or two. Finally, he breathed exasperatedly into the phone, "Look. I'm trying very hard to be patient, here. But my sweetheart is a thousand miles away and I'd really like this to get to her in a hurry. Would you please just try to keep up with me?"
Finally able to get through the process, she read his message back to him and once it was to his satisfaction, he had her bill it to the hotel room and send it. He would probably catch hell from both Isaac and Barney Harper, but he didn't care. He'd pay what he had to pay. Getting a message to Bessie was worth any wrath he had to incur to do it.
Feeling a sudden burst of energy, Zac was more than happy to retrieve their luggage from the car and haul it up to their hotel room. They hadn't stayed in anything this swanky in a long, long time and sitting their luggage down in the room felt like going back in time. The room was small and not quite as fancy as some of the other ones probably were. The walls were patterned in white and yellow-gold, a small chandelier hung from the ceiling, and two double beds were arranged in the center of the room. There was a desk by the window, a tall bureau by the closet door, and a bathroom separated from the room by a solid, white door.
As they made themselves comfortable, still reeling from the trip and their itinerary, Isaac and Zac were beginning a conversation about their upcoming performances while Taylor busied himself by flipping through a menu from the hotel restaurant. Before they could get any deeper into any conversation, however, there came a knock on their room door.
Exchanging a series of confused glances, Isaac stood and adjusted his tie and rebuttoned his vest over it as he made his way to the door. He glanced quickly through the peephole and opened the door.
"Telegram for Zachary Hanson," the boy at the door said as Isaac stood in front of it.
Zac's ears perked immediately at the mention of his name and he barreled across the room and shoved his oldest brother out of the way to get to the boy with the satchel draped across his chest. "That's me!" He breathed desperately. "I'm Zachary Hanson!"
The boy stood there as Zac tore through the telegram and, for a second, Zac glanced up at him as the boy stared back at him, expectantly. He'd forgotten that he wasn't in Tulsa anymore. Fishing a nickel out of his pocket, he shoved it in the boy's hand, thanked him, and closed the door, bracing himself against it.
The telegram was from Bessie and it was a long one. His hands trembled and his heart pounded with anticipation as he read it. And as he read, the familiar flames of rage rose within him, heating up his face and thickening his breathing. He could do nothing but stare at the paper. He couldn't even read it again. He stared at it, his eyes glazed over and his mind going a mile a minute. He was trapped. Stuck, with nowhere to go. He couldn't walk right out the door and pound Billy Connors to a bloody pulp. He couldn't do anything. He was over a thousand miles away.
That thought, alone, was enough to send him staggering over the edge.
Without a word or a plan in place, Zac turned around and opened the door, slamming it behind him as he entered the hotel's hallway. He never stopped until he found himself on the ground floor and out the grand doorways onto the street.
With his jaw set and his lips tightly pressed together, Zac walked. He walked the streets of Boston, ignoring the hot, northern air and the city's Independence Day preparations. Wait, was today Independence Day? He had already forgotten. Who cared, anyway?
He kept the telegram gripped tight in his hand with no sense of direction. He didn't care where he might end up. He walked and he walked, his long strides leading him through alleyways and around corners and through such a maze of streets, he knew he would never get back to the hotel alone. But he didn't care. He would walk all the way to Tulsa if that's where his feet led him. And right now, his heart and his anger were practically forcing him in that direction.
Finally, he found himself along the water, looking out over the loading docks that sat on Boston Harbor. He stood there for a moment, taking in the enormous cargo ships and the majestic size of the body of water, and he immediately wished Bessie could be there to see it. Tulsa never bustled with this much activity, not even in a week. Never as much as Boston did. Bessie would be absolutely fascinated and he would gladly cut off his own arms and legs just to see her smile.
Suddenly feeling weak, he spied an empty bench nearby and helped himself. No sooner had he sat down on the treated wood, that he crumpled the telegram up in his fist and leaned over with his elbow on his knee, collapsing his forehead against his clenched palm.
Zac squeezed his eyes shut and he began to sob uncontrollably. He didn't care who saw him and he didn't care who knew. He'd never felt such misery and despair and emptiness in his entire life. He was only four days into this trip and he couldn't even handle it. How would he handle another three weeks?
He sobbed quietly through clenched teeth, rocking himself back and forth to relieve the physical pain that the tension of his body felt. "Bessie," he said quietly against the crumpled telegram. "Oh, Bessie. Bessie. Bessie. Please don't leave me," he breathed, gasping in shallow breaths. "Bessie, baby, don't leave me. Bessie."
He sat and he rocked and he repeated her name quietly through his tears, as if saying her name enough might make her hear him.
Suddenly, he was interrupted by a strange man's voice that stood next to the bench Zac sat on. "That a telegram from your girl?" He asked. He didn't wait for an answer. "It sure can be hard out here, working these cargos for weeks and months at a time while our women are at home, can't it? You get to missing them something fierce. Anyway, hope you get to see her soon. You're not the first one of these fellows who's ever cried on one of these benches before. Not to worry."
And with that, the tall man walked away toward the loading docks.
It was the strangest, most random thing that could have happened, but it caused Zac to dry up his tears and think. Wiping his face with his sleeve, he sat up and he looked at the loading docks, observing the men who were working. There were tons of men working down there, it seemed. On and off the ship, loading trucks, unloading ships, loading ships, sweeping the decks--everything. These men made their living riding around on these ships, hauling cargo from one place to the next. And it wasn't as if water travel was fast travel. That man felt Zac's pain because he assumed Zac worked on the docks and because he had obviously been through the very pain Zac was going through.
Realizing that he wasn't the only person on the earth that was missing someone, realizing that all of those men down there were probably missing someone just as much, but still continued to carry on with their work gave Zac a new hope. The difference between these men and Zac was that when Zac's work was finally done, he'd be going straight home in a month or less. These cargo workers weren't afforded the luxury of a time frame like that.
Still, though. How many of them had Billy Connors trying to steal their women away?
Letting out a breath, he rested his elbows on his knees and stared down at the green grass underneath him. What was Bessie doing right now? It was midday, so she was probably having lunch with her parents. Or maybe they were at the river with the rest of Tulsa, having the town's annual Independence Day celebration. How he longed to be there with her. He even missed old Judge Harlow. During the day, picnics were everywhere and games were played and booths were set up for photographs or hot dogs or soda pops. And then, when the sun went down, fireworks were shot over the river. Zac always wondered where they city got the funds to afford fireworks since the stock market crash, but then he would watch them and it wouldn't matter. It was a small price to pay for the small joy it brought to those who found so little joy over the past few years.
As he stared down at the grass, lost in his fantasy, the bench he sat on shook as an occupant took up the other half of it. Looking up at the intrusion, Taylor rested his arm on the back of the wood behind Zac as he crossed his ankle over his knee. Squinting in the sunlight, taking in the sights of the harbor, he said calmly, "Not sure why I thought I'd find you here. Glad I was right."
"Didn't need you to find me at all," Zac murmured.
"Wanna talk about it?"
Of course he didn't want to talk about it. If he'd wanted to, he would have stayed in the room. Instead, he handed Taylor the crumpled telegram without taking his eyes off the ground.
Taylor read over it in silence before he remarked, "Okay...I mean, I'm not seeing what was worth the dramatic performance--"
"I'm gonna lose her," Zac snapped. "While I'm up here, fucking...fucking playing magic tricks for pennies, that asshole is going to be there, sweeping her off her feet. How could I have been so stupid to agree this, Tay? I should have--maybe I should have brought her with me."
"First of all, we didn't come all the way up here to do anything for pennies. And secondly, at least she was honest. So she went to eat with him, so what? It was only because he wanted to apologize to you and you weren't there--"
"Fuck an apology. He doesn't want to apologize for anything. His number one goal is getting back at me and he's going to use Bessie to do it. And she'll fall for it. I love her, I really do, but she's still so young and naïve...and I'm her first boyfriend. How stupid was I to think I'd be her one and only? I mean, what the fuck was I thinking?"
"Zac, I think you're overreacting--"
"I mean, I hate the guy," Zac continued, ignoring Taylor's attempts to interject. "I hate him, but he can give her all the things that I can't. You know? Why would she ever choose me over him?"
"She already did--"
"And just wait until she goes off to school. They'll be chomping at the bit to get to her and she'll find all these different guys that are so much better than me. I know I can't keep her cooped up in Tulsa forever, but, Tay, if she goes off and sees what's out there, I'm done for. If she sees the world, I'll lose her. I'm losing her now--"
"You're not losing anything," Taylor snapped. "Except maybe your mind. What you've done is sit here and psyche yourself into something that hasn't happened yet--and won't happen. You've created a scenario that doesn't exist. I mean, look at this, she told you she loves you at least a hundred times in this thing. It's sickening. But what's done is done. He took her to eat and she talked about you. And, according to this, he's all stuck on another girl anyway. You can't fault her--or fear her--for having friends, Zac. Male or female--"
"But it's Billy Connors!" Zac snapped back, raising his voice. "I hate that guy and he hates me and she's traipsing off to eat with him! How is that supposed to make me feel, Tay? Am I supposed to smile and walk around like it's nothing?"
"Yes," he replied, matter-of-factly. "Because that's exactly what it is. Look, we both know Bessie. We both know that she was probably nervous as hell when she sent you that telegram, probably because she knew that you would do and think this very thing right here. You may be upset over it, but there's an eighteen-year-old girl back home in Tulsa who is probably just as sick over sending you that telegram as you were to receive it. She could have hidden it from you, but she didn't. She could have held on to that information until you got home, but she didn't. What you need to do is suck it up and be a man. You're in a healthy, honest, trusting relationship and those are hard to come by these days. Right now, I think you're just freaking out from this trip."
"I miss her so much," Zac confessed in a whisper. "And time's gonna go by, and the missing her is only going to get worse, and I'm so scared."
"So is she," Taylor said gently. "So is she."
Zac sucked in a deep breath, staving off the tears that brimmed his eyes and he sat back on the bench, letting the warm sun shine on his face. "How are you taking this so easily?" He asked Taylor. "I mean, you're engaged to be married."
"Aishe and I have a good thing going," Taylor replied confidently. "There's a lot of trust, a lot of admiration, and most importantly, a lot of understanding. She gets that I have to travel because she's a traveler, herself. I think that might be one of the things that brought us together. And, one of these days, when we're married, we'll travel together."
"And you're not--you're not afraid she'll be...you know, have traveled by the time we get home?"
Fear flashed in Taylor's eyes for a moment before his cool confidence returned and he shook his head. "Nah. Marriage isn't something gypsies take lightly. Plus she loves me, it's not like this is one of their typical arranged marriages." Then he smiled at Zac. "She's not going anywhere. Not without me."
"What does it feel like?" Zac asked. "Being engaged?"
Taylor let out a breath. "Like a weight has been lifted off your back."
Zac wanted to hang on to his brother's words, but the uncertainty still remained in Taylor's eyes. Taking a deep breath, he stood up and took the telegram from Taylor's hand. Looking around, he spotted their vehicle parked on the curb above them. "Will you drop me by the telegram office on the way to the hotel?"
"Telegram office?"
"She needs to know I'm not upset. I can't let her sit there and feel the way I do."
"But you are upset..."
"But she needs to know that I'm not."
Taylor's eyes darted around for a moment before he nodded and said a quiet, "Okay."
With Zac leading the way, the brothers got into their car and drove away from the harbor. This wouldn't be the only difficult day he would have this month. He just hoped that the good days would ultimately outweigh the bad ones.
TO MY BESSIE
I GOT YOUR TELEGRAM STOP I AM SO HAPPY TO HEAR FROM YOU STOP I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT I AM NOT UPSET STOP IN FACT I AM HAPPY THAT YOU ARE MAKING FRIENDS AND FINDING WAYS TO PASS THE TIME STOP I HOPE THINGS WORK OUT WITH BILLY AND SUE STOP AND NOT TO WORRY YOU ARE THE PERFECT PERSON TO BE GIVING AWAY LOVE ADVICE STOP AFTER ALL NOBODY COULD KNOW MORE ABOUT HOW TO LOVE SOMEONE THAN YOU DO STOP JUST LOOK AT THE WAY YOU LOVE ME STOP YOU ARE SO PERFECT AND SOMETIMES I KNOW I DON'T DESERVE YOU STOP
PLEASE DO TAY A FAVOR AND SEND HIS LOVE TO AISHE STOP SHE NEEDS TO KNOW HE IS THINKING ABOUT HER STOP HE WON'T LET ME ASK YOU TO DO THIS BUT I FEEL IT IS IMPORTANT STOP
ENJOY YOUR HOLIDAY AND PLEASE DON'T EVER FORGET HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU STOP I MISS YOU SO MUCH STOP
LOVE FOREVER
ZAC
MY DEAREST ZAC
I'M SO HAPPY TO HEAR FROM YOU AND I'M HAPPY YOU'RE SAFE AND THAT YOU'LL STAY IN ONE PLACE LONG ENOUGH SO I CAN TELEGRAM YOU A FEW TIMES STOP DADDY SAYS I HAVE TO TRY NOT TO MAKE THESE TOO LONG THOUGH STOP I WANTED TO TELL YOU THAT I ATE LUNCH WITH BILLY CONNORS YESTERDAY STOP I WANTED YOU TO KNOW STOP I DON'T WANT TO KEEP A SINGLE THING FROM YOU STOP PLEASE DON'T LET IT UPSET YOU STOP HE WANTED TO APOLOGIZE TO ME FOR BEING SO ROTTEN THE NIGHT OF THE DANCE AND HE WANTED TO APOLOGIZE TO YOU, TOO, BUT HE DIDN'T KNOW YOU'D ALREADY GONE STOP HE SAYS HE HAD A LOT OF TIME TO THINK WHEN HE WAS IN BED, INJURED STOP I TOLD HIM HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU AND HE TOLD ME ABOUT HIS CRUSH ON SUE WILKERSON STOP HE ASKED ME FOR ADVICE STOP WHAT ADVICE WOULD I HAVE TO GIVE HIM ABOUT SUCH THINGS STOP
ZAC I DO LOVE YOU AND I MISS YOU TERRIBLY, EACH DAY MORE THAN THE LAST STOP PLEASE BE SAFE AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF STOP HUG ISAAC AND TAYLOR FOR ME STOP TELL THEM JUDITH AND AISHE SEND THEIR LOVE STOP AND I LOVE YOU ZAC STOP I CAN'T STAY THAT ENOUGH STOP I'M SENDING YOU A KISS WITH THIS TELEGRAM STOP I LOVE YOU STOP MY HEART IS WITH YOU STOP I LOVE YOU STOP
YOURS FOREVER
BESSIE
A strange sense of relief washed over Zac as he drove his brothers into Boston, Massachusetts on that Independence Day morning. There had been no more hiccups along the way after the oil-changing fiasco and, despite the hang-up, they still managed to make it to their destination a couple of hours early.
Zac hadn't smiled much so far on this trip, but he finally did upon sight of the harbor, knowing they would finally halt their traveling for a few days. In the past, traveling long distances like this had never bothered him. In fact, he used to enjoy it. But now the extra emphasis on making it from point A to point B in one piece was proving to be extremely stressful. After all, having something to live for made you look at life with a more watchful eye and more careful footsteps.
Driving the last leg into Boston wasn't without headache, however. Taylor had insisted on sitting in the front seat after having been banished to the back all of the previous day, and he had further insisted on being the primary navigator as he draped the map obnoxiously over his lap and drove Zac straight to the nuthouse with his inability to keep the road names straight. After five minutes of screaming at each other and dodging at least three ditches in the process, Taylor was now hanging halfway out the window with his camera poised at the harbor while Isaac draped his arms over the front seat with the map, expertly guiding Zac into the city.
The brothers hadn't been to Boston in at least five years and it felt completely foreign to them with the way it seemed to have grown so fast in that short amount of time. All of the old buildings still stood, literally standing the test of time, the hustle and bustle was still roughly the same. All the familiar smells, the sounds, the sights...in hindsight, maybe it wasn't the city that had grown up in the last five years--maybe it was the Hanson brothers that had.
Maneuvering the travel trailer they hauled down the narrow streets that it took to get to the fairgrounds they would be playing at for the next few days, Zac was experiencing a brand new level of stress. In fact, all three brothers were as two pairs of eyes watched out the back window intently and Zac white-knuckled the steering wheel and looked at absolutely nothing else but the road in front of them. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, tensions began to lift as they finally drove onto the grass of the fairgrounds.
There were several trailers and wagons littering the property, but the entire place looked deserted. Finally able to stop the car and get out and stretch their bodies, the brothers took a look around at the quiet "neighborhood." Taylor curled his lip up in confusion. "Is this where trailers come to die?"
Isaac elbowed his younger brother in the ribs as he shielded his eyes from the bright sun and examined their surroundings. Several yards away, on the door of a large travel trailer, was a large, white sheet of paper. Curiosity led the brothers to the door and Isaac shielded his eyes once more to read aloud from it. "Entertainers: Park your trailers and wagons here and bring yourselves to 21 Beacon Street along with your personals. Ask for Barney Harper."
"Our personals?" Taylor mused. "This is crazy, we just got here. What I want to do is take my personals inside for a nap."
Zac shared Taylor's sentiment, but Isaac was already headed back to the car. Begrudgingly, the younger brothers followed and, before they knew it, they were back to maneuvering through Boston's city streets.
Taylor, with his usual place hanging outside the window with his camera in his face, suddenly whipped his body around and back into the car as they came up on a hotel as tall and as large as life. "Hey!" He said excitedly. "I know where we are, we've been here before! This is the Bellevue!" Then he pulled his body completely inside and fell into the passenger seat. "Ike, you sure this is the right address?"
"It is," he said, folding the map up. "Part of me wants to be surprised but the other part of me knows I probably shouldn't be."
The Hotel Bellevue resided on Beacon Hill as a massive, elegant, European-style structure that sat directly next to the State House with the infamous copper dome that crowned the top. As they pulled up along Beacon Hill and up to the hotel's doors, valets in white gloves were much too eager to help the brothers out of their car. Politely turning them down, Isaac insisted that they park themselves and was then directed around the corner of the building to a small parking lot where they could park themselves, tip-free.
Despite being told to bring along their personals, the three men rounded the hotel once more and entered the front doors with nothing but Taylor's camera in his hand. The interior was much as they remembered it, with elaborate chandeliers hanging from the ceilings, intricate carvings in the ceilings, and marble floors that shined underneath their feet. It almost didn't feel real to Zac due to how long it had been since they'd been in the presence of such luxury. Not too long ago, luxury such as this had been their life. It was normal for them. Vaudeville paid handsomely once upon a time and once upon a time, it was nothing for the brothers to walk into hotels like this where nobody questioned them, everybody knew their name, and they spent their nights in Egyptian cotton after drinking champagne with politicians and artists.
Now, though. Now it stung a little bit when the receptionist asked for their names at the front desk.
"We're, uh, we're here to see Barney Harper?" Isaac asked the brunette receptionist. "He says to ask for him, I'm assuming this is where--"
"Room 604," she interrupted him. Then she slid a set of keys across the marble counter at him. "Here are your keys. Room 712. There are only two beds, though. Two of you will have to share."
"Not it!" Zac called out.
His older brothers glared at him as he fought to hide his smug grin.
Getting back to business, Isaac turned his attention back to the receptionist. "Now hold on a minute. We didn't make a reservation--"
"You didn't. Take it up with Mr. Harper. Enjoy your stay."
The brunette obviously preferred to be left alone and the brothers went in search of an elevator in surprise and confusion. They'd hauled a travel trailer fifteen hundred miles in a nearly dilapidated automobile. Now they had a room in one of the fanciest hotels in the northeast? Had they missed something in their brief correspondence?
It took no time at all for a young lady to answer the door to room 604, the red hallway carpet turning into a golden yellow as they stepped in through the door frame. It was awkward walking into a man's personal hotel room, but their curiosity, thankfully, took precedence over any awkwardness that was to be had. The room appeared to be a small suite with a sitting area in an opposite room from the bedroom and bathroom. Sitting at a desk by a window draped in white sheer, was a slender, middle-aged man with brown hair slicked loosely back and a mustache that was perfectly trimmed to his face. Underneath his elbows were several separate stacks of paperwork, one of them being held down by the ashtray he currently tapped his ashes into. Zac's mouth watered at the scent of the fresh cigarette smoke, unsure of why he suddenly craved a cigarette right in that very moment, seeing as he was far from a regular smoker.
Upon their entry into the room, the man looked up and smiled a jovial smile at them as he sat his cigarette down in the ashtray. "Gentlemen! So glad you finally made it! It's great to finally meet you. Name's Barney Harper. I'm running this outfit. Great to have you on board."
Mr. Harper stood and shook the hands of the three brothers as they introduced themselves and he sat back down and rifled through some papers on his desk. Finally producing a few sheets, Mr. Harper began to explain to them, "We have four locations this troupe is playing. Starting tomorrow, a three-day stint here in Boston. After that, we head over to Philadelphia for the last half of the week. Then we go to New York where four days is spent at Coney Island before we finish it off with a theatre production that runs for an approximate week. I hope you boys are well-rehearsed. This month you'll be seen by a good lot of this country's political elite. And since you're headlining the theatre production, I expect you not to smear my good name into the ground. We clear?"
"Absolutely," Isaac replied enthusiastically. "We won't let you down."
"I trust you won't. Here is your schedule, itinerary, addresses to each location..."
"Excuse me," Taylor interjected as Isaac collected the papers and examined them. "The receptionist downstairs gave us keys..."
"Good!" Mr. Harper said brightly. "Your night's stay tonight is on us. We want our entertainers to have a good night's rest before we get started tomorrow. I know most of you are likely tired and weary from your journeys and we need you all at your best tomorrow. Eat, drink, be merry, enjoy the Independence Day festivities, and rest tonight. Tomorrow starts early!"
As Taylor's jaw dropped, dumbfounded, Zac picked up his words for him. "Thank you, sir. Thank you so much, we really appreciate this. The room and the opportunity."
"Think nothing of it. You think we could very well have a vaudeville reunion without The Incredible Hansons? Why, you'd have to be out of your mind!"
Zac felt like he was on top of the world. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in...well, in at least five years. Except for the moments when Bessie looked at him like he was the greatest thing since sliced bread, that was. God, he was so mixed up right now. But he wasn't totally unhappy. The truth was, he was excited about performing tomorrow. In fact, he was anxious to spend the rest of the night rehearsing. But first, he snatched the itinerary out of Isaac's hand and darted out of Barney Harper's hotel room, uncaring of how unprofessional he must have looked just then and how angry he probably had made his brother.
He made his way straight downstairs and wasted no time using the hotel telephone to phone the telegram office. As he dictated his telegram, tour schedule included, to the lady on the other end, he grew increasingly frustrated at how long it was taking her to type out his message. She asked him to repeat himself on several occasions, and even to spell a word or two. Finally, he breathed exasperatedly into the phone, "Look. I'm trying very hard to be patient, here. But my sweetheart is a thousand miles away and I'd really like this to get to her in a hurry. Would you please just try to keep up with me?"
Finally able to get through the process, she read his message back to him and once it was to his satisfaction, he had her bill it to the hotel room and send it. He would probably catch hell from both Isaac and Barney Harper, but he didn't care. He'd pay what he had to pay. Getting a message to Bessie was worth any wrath he had to incur to do it.
Feeling a sudden burst of energy, Zac was more than happy to retrieve their luggage from the car and haul it up to their hotel room. They hadn't stayed in anything this swanky in a long, long time and sitting their luggage down in the room felt like going back in time. The room was small and not quite as fancy as some of the other ones probably were. The walls were patterned in white and yellow-gold, a small chandelier hung from the ceiling, and two double beds were arranged in the center of the room. There was a desk by the window, a tall bureau by the closet door, and a bathroom separated from the room by a solid, white door.
As they made themselves comfortable, still reeling from the trip and their itinerary, Isaac and Zac were beginning a conversation about their upcoming performances while Taylor busied himself by flipping through a menu from the hotel restaurant. Before they could get any deeper into any conversation, however, there came a knock on their room door.
Exchanging a series of confused glances, Isaac stood and adjusted his tie and rebuttoned his vest over it as he made his way to the door. He glanced quickly through the peephole and opened the door.
"Telegram for Zachary Hanson," the boy at the door said as Isaac stood in front of it.
Zac's ears perked immediately at the mention of his name and he barreled across the room and shoved his oldest brother out of the way to get to the boy with the satchel draped across his chest. "That's me!" He breathed desperately. "I'm Zachary Hanson!"
The boy stood there as Zac tore through the telegram and, for a second, Zac glanced up at him as the boy stared back at him, expectantly. He'd forgotten that he wasn't in Tulsa anymore. Fishing a nickel out of his pocket, he shoved it in the boy's hand, thanked him, and closed the door, bracing himself against it.
The telegram was from Bessie and it was a long one. His hands trembled and his heart pounded with anticipation as he read it. And as he read, the familiar flames of rage rose within him, heating up his face and thickening his breathing. He could do nothing but stare at the paper. He couldn't even read it again. He stared at it, his eyes glazed over and his mind going a mile a minute. He was trapped. Stuck, with nowhere to go. He couldn't walk right out the door and pound Billy Connors to a bloody pulp. He couldn't do anything. He was over a thousand miles away.
That thought, alone, was enough to send him staggering over the edge.
Without a word or a plan in place, Zac turned around and opened the door, slamming it behind him as he entered the hotel's hallway. He never stopped until he found himself on the ground floor and out the grand doorways onto the street.
With his jaw set and his lips tightly pressed together, Zac walked. He walked the streets of Boston, ignoring the hot, northern air and the city's Independence Day preparations. Wait, was today Independence Day? He had already forgotten. Who cared, anyway?
He kept the telegram gripped tight in his hand with no sense of direction. He didn't care where he might end up. He walked and he walked, his long strides leading him through alleyways and around corners and through such a maze of streets, he knew he would never get back to the hotel alone. But he didn't care. He would walk all the way to Tulsa if that's where his feet led him. And right now, his heart and his anger were practically forcing him in that direction.
Finally, he found himself along the water, looking out over the loading docks that sat on Boston Harbor. He stood there for a moment, taking in the enormous cargo ships and the majestic size of the body of water, and he immediately wished Bessie could be there to see it. Tulsa never bustled with this much activity, not even in a week. Never as much as Boston did. Bessie would be absolutely fascinated and he would gladly cut off his own arms and legs just to see her smile.
Suddenly feeling weak, he spied an empty bench nearby and helped himself. No sooner had he sat down on the treated wood, that he crumpled the telegram up in his fist and leaned over with his elbow on his knee, collapsing his forehead against his clenched palm.
Zac squeezed his eyes shut and he began to sob uncontrollably. He didn't care who saw him and he didn't care who knew. He'd never felt such misery and despair and emptiness in his entire life. He was only four days into this trip and he couldn't even handle it. How would he handle another three weeks?
He sobbed quietly through clenched teeth, rocking himself back and forth to relieve the physical pain that the tension of his body felt. "Bessie," he said quietly against the crumpled telegram. "Oh, Bessie. Bessie. Bessie. Please don't leave me," he breathed, gasping in shallow breaths. "Bessie, baby, don't leave me. Bessie."
He sat and he rocked and he repeated her name quietly through his tears, as if saying her name enough might make her hear him.
Suddenly, he was interrupted by a strange man's voice that stood next to the bench Zac sat on. "That a telegram from your girl?" He asked. He didn't wait for an answer. "It sure can be hard out here, working these cargos for weeks and months at a time while our women are at home, can't it? You get to missing them something fierce. Anyway, hope you get to see her soon. You're not the first one of these fellows who's ever cried on one of these benches before. Not to worry."
And with that, the tall man walked away toward the loading docks.
It was the strangest, most random thing that could have happened, but it caused Zac to dry up his tears and think. Wiping his face with his sleeve, he sat up and he looked at the loading docks, observing the men who were working. There were tons of men working down there, it seemed. On and off the ship, loading trucks, unloading ships, loading ships, sweeping the decks--everything. These men made their living riding around on these ships, hauling cargo from one place to the next. And it wasn't as if water travel was fast travel. That man felt Zac's pain because he assumed Zac worked on the docks and because he had obviously been through the very pain Zac was going through.
Realizing that he wasn't the only person on the earth that was missing someone, realizing that all of those men down there were probably missing someone just as much, but still continued to carry on with their work gave Zac a new hope. The difference between these men and Zac was that when Zac's work was finally done, he'd be going straight home in a month or less. These cargo workers weren't afforded the luxury of a time frame like that.
Still, though. How many of them had Billy Connors trying to steal their women away?
Letting out a breath, he rested his elbows on his knees and stared down at the green grass underneath him. What was Bessie doing right now? It was midday, so she was probably having lunch with her parents. Or maybe they were at the river with the rest of Tulsa, having the town's annual Independence Day celebration. How he longed to be there with her. He even missed old Judge Harlow. During the day, picnics were everywhere and games were played and booths were set up for photographs or hot dogs or soda pops. And then, when the sun went down, fireworks were shot over the river. Zac always wondered where they city got the funds to afford fireworks since the stock market crash, but then he would watch them and it wouldn't matter. It was a small price to pay for the small joy it brought to those who found so little joy over the past few years.
As he stared down at the grass, lost in his fantasy, the bench he sat on shook as an occupant took up the other half of it. Looking up at the intrusion, Taylor rested his arm on the back of the wood behind Zac as he crossed his ankle over his knee. Squinting in the sunlight, taking in the sights of the harbor, he said calmly, "Not sure why I thought I'd find you here. Glad I was right."
"Didn't need you to find me at all," Zac murmured.
"Wanna talk about it?"
Of course he didn't want to talk about it. If he'd wanted to, he would have stayed in the room. Instead, he handed Taylor the crumpled telegram without taking his eyes off the ground.
Taylor read over it in silence before he remarked, "Okay...I mean, I'm not seeing what was worth the dramatic performance--"
"I'm gonna lose her," Zac snapped. "While I'm up here, fucking...fucking playing magic tricks for pennies, that asshole is going to be there, sweeping her off her feet. How could I have been so stupid to agree this, Tay? I should have--maybe I should have brought her with me."
"First of all, we didn't come all the way up here to do anything for pennies. And secondly, at least she was honest. So she went to eat with him, so what? It was only because he wanted to apologize to you and you weren't there--"
"Fuck an apology. He doesn't want to apologize for anything. His number one goal is getting back at me and he's going to use Bessie to do it. And she'll fall for it. I love her, I really do, but she's still so young and naïve...and I'm her first boyfriend. How stupid was I to think I'd be her one and only? I mean, what the fuck was I thinking?"
"Zac, I think you're overreacting--"
"I mean, I hate the guy," Zac continued, ignoring Taylor's attempts to interject. "I hate him, but he can give her all the things that I can't. You know? Why would she ever choose me over him?"
"She already did--"
"And just wait until she goes off to school. They'll be chomping at the bit to get to her and she'll find all these different guys that are so much better than me. I know I can't keep her cooped up in Tulsa forever, but, Tay, if she goes off and sees what's out there, I'm done for. If she sees the world, I'll lose her. I'm losing her now--"
"You're not losing anything," Taylor snapped. "Except maybe your mind. What you've done is sit here and psyche yourself into something that hasn't happened yet--and won't happen. You've created a scenario that doesn't exist. I mean, look at this, she told you she loves you at least a hundred times in this thing. It's sickening. But what's done is done. He took her to eat and she talked about you. And, according to this, he's all stuck on another girl anyway. You can't fault her--or fear her--for having friends, Zac. Male or female--"
"But it's Billy Connors!" Zac snapped back, raising his voice. "I hate that guy and he hates me and she's traipsing off to eat with him! How is that supposed to make me feel, Tay? Am I supposed to smile and walk around like it's nothing?"
"Yes," he replied, matter-of-factly. "Because that's exactly what it is. Look, we both know Bessie. We both know that she was probably nervous as hell when she sent you that telegram, probably because she knew that you would do and think this very thing right here. You may be upset over it, but there's an eighteen-year-old girl back home in Tulsa who is probably just as sick over sending you that telegram as you were to receive it. She could have hidden it from you, but she didn't. She could have held on to that information until you got home, but she didn't. What you need to do is suck it up and be a man. You're in a healthy, honest, trusting relationship and those are hard to come by these days. Right now, I think you're just freaking out from this trip."
"I miss her so much," Zac confessed in a whisper. "And time's gonna go by, and the missing her is only going to get worse, and I'm so scared."
"So is she," Taylor said gently. "So is she."
Zac sucked in a deep breath, staving off the tears that brimmed his eyes and he sat back on the bench, letting the warm sun shine on his face. "How are you taking this so easily?" He asked Taylor. "I mean, you're engaged to be married."
"Aishe and I have a good thing going," Taylor replied confidently. "There's a lot of trust, a lot of admiration, and most importantly, a lot of understanding. She gets that I have to travel because she's a traveler, herself. I think that might be one of the things that brought us together. And, one of these days, when we're married, we'll travel together."
"And you're not--you're not afraid she'll be...you know, have traveled by the time we get home?"
Fear flashed in Taylor's eyes for a moment before his cool confidence returned and he shook his head. "Nah. Marriage isn't something gypsies take lightly. Plus she loves me, it's not like this is one of their typical arranged marriages." Then he smiled at Zac. "She's not going anywhere. Not without me."
"What does it feel like?" Zac asked. "Being engaged?"
Taylor let out a breath. "Like a weight has been lifted off your back."
Zac wanted to hang on to his brother's words, but the uncertainty still remained in Taylor's eyes. Taking a deep breath, he stood up and took the telegram from Taylor's hand. Looking around, he spotted their vehicle parked on the curb above them. "Will you drop me by the telegram office on the way to the hotel?"
"Telegram office?"
"She needs to know I'm not upset. I can't let her sit there and feel the way I do."
"But you are upset..."
"But she needs to know that I'm not."
Taylor's eyes darted around for a moment before he nodded and said a quiet, "Okay."
With Zac leading the way, the brothers got into their car and drove away from the harbor. This wouldn't be the only difficult day he would have this month. He just hoped that the good days would ultimately outweigh the bad ones.
TO MY BESSIE
I GOT YOUR TELEGRAM STOP I AM SO HAPPY TO HEAR FROM YOU STOP I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT I AM NOT UPSET STOP IN FACT I AM HAPPY THAT YOU ARE MAKING FRIENDS AND FINDING WAYS TO PASS THE TIME STOP I HOPE THINGS WORK OUT WITH BILLY AND SUE STOP AND NOT TO WORRY YOU ARE THE PERFECT PERSON TO BE GIVING AWAY LOVE ADVICE STOP AFTER ALL NOBODY COULD KNOW MORE ABOUT HOW TO LOVE SOMEONE THAN YOU DO STOP JUST LOOK AT THE WAY YOU LOVE ME STOP YOU ARE SO PERFECT AND SOMETIMES I KNOW I DON'T DESERVE YOU STOP
PLEASE DO TAY A FAVOR AND SEND HIS LOVE TO AISHE STOP SHE NEEDS TO KNOW HE IS THINKING ABOUT HER STOP HE WON'T LET ME ASK YOU TO DO THIS BUT I FEEL IT IS IMPORTANT STOP
ENJOY YOUR HOLIDAY AND PLEASE DON'T EVER FORGET HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU STOP I MISS YOU SO MUCH STOP
LOVE FOREVER
ZAC