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138: Sound and Fury
Last Updated:
2024-10-29 19:42:56
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World of Tomorrow 139: Epilogue
“Stop, Peter!” Sarah exclaimed, whirling to face behind her. She shot her brother an angry glare. “Peter, for pity’s sake, don’t throw dirt clods at your sister,” Andrew called over his shoulder, shifting his swaddled, sleeping son from his right shoulder to his left as they walked the long, tree-lined drive that led to the James’ estate, perched with its back on a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Gulls rode the ocean updrafts in the afternoon sun above the glistening water, occasionally diving when something of interest caught their eye. On the opposite side of the tree-lined drive, his wife’s tiny orchard of glossy-leaved oranges in full bloom left a sweet scent drifting over the drive on the warm, salty breeze off the sea. Not far away, Evelyn's gated garden was growing lush with upright stalks of corn, twined in the loving arms of pole beans with the wide leaves of squash spreading in a carpet at their feet along the ground in one row. In another, her tomatoes were already d
Last Updated : 2024-10-29World of Tomorrow 1: Abysmal Monday
Hurrying to the subway entrance through the lightly falling snow, Evelyn paced beside Lily on the busy New York sidewalk. Listening as her friend hummed a song from the radio show they’d heard together during dinner the night before, she joined in with the bouncy countermelody at the song's chorus, smiling in amusement. “It’s catchy, that tune.”Slipping ahead of Lily through a narrow space in the rushing crowd, they descended the hard cement stairs into the subway, single file. Fishing in her purse, an expensive black leather drawstring with round bracelet handles that her aunt had purchased as a gift for her upon her graduation from the Fifth Avenue Secretarial School, Evelyn quickly found a dime, and dropping it into the turnstile, moved with the shuffling masses onto the platform.Along the tracks amid teeth clenching squeals, a cold rush of wintry air and the echoing thunder of the cars, the subway train drew alongside the platform. Stopping completely, with an almost hermetic his
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In that frozen second between when Mr. James’ weight had pulled her body over the window ledge and when her desperate fingers, cramped and grown numb from all the pressure on them, failed her, slipped and drew over the polished wood of the sill with scraping nails, it seemed Evelyn was aware suddenly, conscious of everything.Hung suspended in that deathless second, she felt the icy cold wind billowing the full skirt of her dress and her gut wrenched, ashamed of her inadvertently lewd display to the helpless onlookers in other buildings and the foolish gawkers down below. Her long dark hair, cast into weightlessness and flung wildly in every direction, twisted into looping tangles and into her face unbecomingly. Every clang and honk and tiny ping from the jammed vehicles on the ground rang long and distinct and clear in her ears.Now high enough to peek around the other buildings, filtered sunlight glittered silvery in the Trust’s windows on the tower of floors above hers and dappled t
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Andrew James stood ramrod straight before the Trust’s president, Mr. Melton, his hands tucked behind his back. “You asked to speak to me, sir.”Looking up from his document review, Mr. Melton smiled, his spectacled, gray eyes genuinely pleased to see Andrew, and gestured to a chair. He laced his thin bony fingers, leaning forward onto the ornate mahogany desk in his lavish office. “Andrew, what are you doing here?”Confused, Andrew’s brows drew together slightly. “You asked to see me, sir,” he reiterated. “Is there something amiss?”“Why are you not home with your family?”Unable to hold the president’s gaze, Andrew glanced away, releasing a quiet sigh as he focused out the wide windows, across the rooftops of other nearby buildings. “You’ve met my mother. There’s nothing
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“Evie!” Lily pounded on her apartment door. “Are you ready? If we don’t catch a cab soon, we’ll be late.”Inhaling deeply and calling up patience for her beloved friend, Evelyn opened her apartment door.“Oh, so you are dressed.” Pushing past her, Lily circled, tugging at the borrowed black dress and pinching at the side seams under Evelyn’s arms. “It’s a bit big—you’re so thin, really—but it’s scarcely noticeable. Must we carry on with the sling?”“The doctor was most vehement I wear it and rest my shoulder for ten days.”Lily rolled her eyes skyward, counting on her fingers. “Well, it’s been—essentially seven days already. If it’s not still hurting, today would be a good trial run, don’t you think? You won’t be wearing it to work on Monday, that’s for certain. Can’t have anyone thinking you might be disabled or attempting to garner sympathy in some way.”Lifting her brows, Evelyn nodded in agreement. “That’s true. Fine. Let me take it off.”“Oh, don’t bother folding it,” Lily groaned
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“Good evening, Mr. Kittrels.” Evelyn set her laundry basket beside the agitator machine and smiled. “Thank you for restocking the furnace.”Upon their return to the city after Mr. James' funeral, Lily had promptly taken her leave, claiming she needed to run errands and leaving Evelyn to brood alone. Though she'd tried other distractions-- a library book on the collapse of the Roman Empire, the radio, even a nap-- Evelyn simply couldn't stop her mind, turning over and over the strange interaction with Andrew James in the conservatory of his family estate.The old man turned his soot-smudged face towards her. He dumped his shovelful of coal into the old Octopus, and leaning on the shovel, removed his hat quickly. “Good day to you, miss. Are you warm enough upstairs then?”Turning the spigot, Evelyn started the bucket of her wash water. “What&rsqu
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Evelyn followed Lily across the trust’s lobby towards the lifts. Her head throbbed dully and her heart pounded, products of the deep-seated, unshakeable dread she’d been harboring since Russell James’ death a week before. She waved with a weak smile as the doors to Lily’s lift closed, sighing heavily at the soft chime of her arriving one. Just make it to your desk, Evelyn urged herself mentally. After that, you can figure out the next step. She repeated the mantra over and over as the doors opened releasing passengers, closed, and the lift lurched upwards again. When they reached the ninth floor, she hesitated, almost missing her stop.As usual, the office was empty. Evelyn was nearly always the first one here. A heavy rock fell into the pit of her stomach, as memories of the previous week flashed into her head. Breathing in small pants, she moved slowly to her desk, tucked her belongings into her drawer, then stood, lost.She stared at the low stack of papers on the desk—work she’d c
Last Updated : 2024-10-29
Latest chapter
World of Tomorrow 139: Epilogue
“Stop, Peter!” Sarah exclaimed, whirling to face behind her. She shot her brother an angry glare. “Peter, for pity’s sake, don’t throw dirt clods at your sister,” Andrew called over his shoulder, shifting his swaddled, sleeping son from his right shoulder to his left as they walked the long, tree-lined drive that led to the James’ estate, perched with its back on a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Gulls rode the ocean updrafts in the afternoon sun above the glistening water, occasionally diving when something of interest caught their eye. On the opposite side of the tree-lined drive, his wife’s tiny orchard of glossy-leaved oranges in full bloom left a sweet scent drifting over the drive on the warm, salty breeze off the sea. Not far away, Evelyn's gated garden was growing lush with upright stalks of corn, twined in the loving arms of pole beans with the wide leaves of squash spreading in a carpet at their feet along the ground in one row. In another, her tomatoes were already d
World of Tomorrow 138: Sound and Fury
“M-ma-ma.” The stuttering word was an alarming half-sob and half-gurgle from the wounded Becky. “M-ma-m-ma.” Dear God! Whoever it was had shot her! That poor, helpless girl! Why!? She wasn’t a threat! And there was absolutely nothing here of any value! Evelyn’s heart leapt to her throat and hammered painfully. But she stayed close to the wall, inching forward on tiptoe to clutch at Andrew’s jacket. She pointed to the floor where their shadows fell long across it from the single overhead lamp in the middle of the room. If they drew too close to the door, their shadows would be visible to the intruder in the darkened hall leading to the bedrooms. She pointed to the window, and Andrew jerked his chin towards it in acknowledgement. Escape. They had to escape. Outside, on the sidewalk, they could summon the patrolling police officer. They could summon help. Men trained for this. Men with other guns. They had to move fast. Miranda’s daughter needed them. Even above the scuffling noises fr
World of Tomorrow 137: Miranda's Story
Andrew rose slowly to his feet, an antagonized muscle twitching along his clean-shaven jaw. His expression looked like a bomb about to explode. Evelyn drew a sudden breath, one hand clapping over her mouth. She stared, in turns, first at Will, then at Miranda, and her mind whirled. What was it Alexander Lowell had said the day that Detective Kelly had attempted to arrest her? The same day he’d later resigned from the police department. Something about the detective being fed what he needed to lay an accusation upon Evelyn. The question of ‘why’ anyone cared about a lowly former secretary enough to attempt to kill her, let alone invest the effort in framing her was growing more convoluted by the minute. But it was clear it was centered here, with the account belonging to Glorietta Moreno and her rights as an heir to it. “It’s a stretch,” Andrew said softly, nodding towards Miranda, “but I can see why your mother might have had Russell’s name on that account. N
World of Tomorrow 136: Doors
“You folks just planning on waiting?” their cabbie asked, his dark eyes studying Andrew and Will in the rearview mirror, despite that Evelyn was seated between them. “Meter’s running. Makes no never mind to me if you do, but I’ll have to circle the block or the flatfoots will cite me.” “How long do we have to decide?” Andrew asked, reluctant to have the cab move on the off chance that they might miss Miranda's departure for work during the process. “’Nother minute or two at most.” “Thank you.” He shifted slightly on the cab’s rear seat so he could better see his companions. “I know we’re early, but if she’s keeping business hours, I’d have expected she’d have to allow time to travel to a workplace. You’re certain this is the building, Will?” “It’s the place,” he replied definitively. “I can go in and wait. Tail her to wherever she’s going, then come get you.” “Is it possible she recognized you yesterday?” Evelyn asked, peering through the murk
World of Tomorrow 135: Plan of Attack
The dancing had worked like a charm. For a couple of hours. Andrew had managed to get just shy of another couple hours on top of that, burning time off the afternoon by alternating between listening to the orchestra rehearse, dancing, and finally, by slipping a bribe to the broadcasting staff to show Evelyn their equipment set-up and to take their sweet time about it. After that, she’d become too fretful to do much beyond distractedly, which had quickly spoiled the ballroom option for both of them. They’d retired to their drawing room, taken afternoon tea, then Evelyn’s pacing had begun again in earnest. He had to admit, watching her as she combed through her drying hair at the dressing table, it might be time to worry about Will a little. It was going on eight o’clock. Late by any business standard, but certainly well past the time when most diners catering to the kind of clients they’d seen at the DeBaliviere Diner and Waffle House would be visiting
World of Tomorrow 134: As Luck Would Have It
Wednesday morning in St. Louis dawned dark and gloomy and only marginally better than it had been upon their arrival early afternoon on Monday. When Evelyn emerged from the bedroom into the drawing room where he and the constantly-moving Will waited, Andrew flicked the newspaper he’d been reading down and smiled. They’d all slept poorly—again. They’d all woken late—again—and after their enjoyable brunch yesterday, both men were eager to see what other offerings were available in the East Lounge’s dining area. “Well?” she asked, her red-tinged and particle-irritated eyes roving the drawing room’s lush furnishings, immediately spotting the unmistakable coating of fine black powder and ash. “Are we trapped inside again today? It seems faintly better.” Will snorted. “By comparison to yesterday, being buried in black sand would seem better.” Andrew chuckled, setting aside the St. Louis Star-Times he’d been reading. He rifled through a stack of newspapers o
World of Tomorrow 133: Black Tuesday
The hotel’s ballroom was a gently baroque style. Its elegant space was replete with all manner of luxuries one would expect of a high-profile hotel, no matter where one might visit in the world—custom paneled with artfully etched-mirror and plaster walls, gold-leafed accents and intricate crown moldings. Above the near-magical dancefloor, which was lit from below, hung in the decorative ceiling, a ponderous crystal chandelier lit the warm wooden dancefloor beneath it. Along the periphery, undulating balconies supported by Corinthian pilasters gave an air of classicism to the space, but one not overly staid. These generous galleries provided seating for those who had only come for a meal, to watch the dancing or to listen to the orchestra. They’d dressed for a late dinner, but though the orchestra played, their music broadcast exactly as Evelyn had always dreamed of experiencing, she and Andrew hadn’t danced. In fact, they hadn’t stayed much longer than
World of Tomorrow 132: Miserable Monday
“The Coronado was built, and I believe is now run, by Preston Bradshaw,” Andrew advised more than an hour later as their cab pulled away from the curb at the train depot. “He graduated from Columbia with my brother, Russell. The two were quite good friends as I recall. My father introduced him to Stanford White in New York City where he worked before returning to St. Louis. He’s responsible for the monumental hotels on Lindell Boulevard. The Melbourne and the Coronado at midtown and the theatre district. And opposite, near the Central West end, the Chase and the Forest Park hotels were also his commissions.” “Did you know him?” Evelyn asked, closing her burning eyes and resting her head against his shoulder. “Is that why we’re staying at the Coronado?” She left unspoken the reminder that the Coronado Hotel, in particular the hotel’s famed Caprice Club, was where they’d found Charlotte to serve Andrew’s divorce paperwork after their tip-off from the Princes in Los Angeles.
World of Tomorrow 131: Arrival
The following morning Evelyn woke alone. She could tell by the way his belongings were packed that Andrew had already risen. If she was any guess, he was taking advantage of the train’s onboard barber, which meant she had time to bathe and dress without his typical morning enthusiasm for both processes. Selecting a warm dress from her traveling case, she draped her clothing over the empty towel rack in the bathroom and rooted through her toiletries for her toothbrush and toothpowder. When she was done, she hung a fresh towel on the rack nearest the shower beside the still-damp one Andrew had used and stepped under the spray. The warm shower felt delightful and soothed the telltale soreness from her bedroom exertions with her husband the night before. Once she’d washed, she stood with the warm spray draining off of her and for the first time since they’d come, wondered what they were going to do in St. Louis. They had only the name of a diner and a hotel off t
