Adam's Story Read online

  “I dunno,” I answered. “I was gonna take the train, but I don't got - haven't got any money.”

  “What is it, young Mr. Calloway, that New York harbors which you are so desperate to obtain?”

  I chewed the end of my straw wondering how to put the dreams of a teenage boy who didn't even know who he was into words. Feelings of hope are not easily defined in any language. Even with my limited vocabulary, I knew there were no words to describe adolescent fantasy.

  I could only shrug.

  Mr. Sullner looked at me in silence for a long time, then smiled kindly exhibiting the deep lines around his mouth and eyes. “Adam, would you like to accompany Tom and myself to New York?”

  I grinned wildly. “You bet I would!”

  He held up a finger. “Hold on. I would only take you if you are willing to agree to some conditions.”

  Eying him hard I asked Mr. Sullner what the conditions were.

  “Well for starters, you would require new clothing. Which I will provide for you. You can't travel first class on a train wearing rags. Also, you will have to agree to stay with me at Sullner Manor until you can find better accommodations. You will remain in my charge and I cannot have you wondering the streets of New York and causing undue mischief. Understand?”

  “I understand.” I did understand his conditions, but I could not understand why he was willing to do all this for me. I could offer him nothing in return.

  “Mr. Sullner?”

  “You are wondering why I have taken an interest in you.” It was not a question, but I nodded. “That is one of the things that makes you such a bright boy. I am an old man. I have no offspring. No heir to my legacy. No willing young soul eager to carry on my life's work when I am gone. I am a scientist. I am in need of an apprentice. With the proper training, I believe you would make a fine assistant. Do we have a deal, Mr. Calloway?”

  He stuck out his hand. Knowing my whole future was about to change, yet unaware of the magnitude, I shook it.

  *****

  Chapter 3

  All the events in my life became utterly insignificant compared to the elation I felt upon arriving in New York City. It was the epitome of all I had longed for, fulfilling every dream I had and even those I hadn't. The lights, sounds, smells and chaos captivated me in a way I had not thought possible. This was where I wanted to spend the rest of my life.

  Sullner Manor exceeded all my expectations as well. Mr. Sullner had built the mansion when he first arrived in the States thirty years ago. The large Baroque house was sat on three acres of ground among dogwood trees and numerous dormant Grandiflora rose bushes. It featured four bedrooms, six bathrooms, a small apartment in the back belonging to Tom, a garden and a large garage that housed Mr. Sullner's Ford and Buick. It was the most incredible place I had ever seen and was amazed that it was now my home.

  In his employ Mr. Sullner had Tom, who served the universal role of butler, driver and confidant and Constance, the cook and maid who worked from Monday until Friday and made the best fried chicken in the state. A landscaping crew came once a week to care for the garden, but they were not a permanent addition to the household.

  As for the education that I so greatly required, Mr. Sullner took that responsibility himself. He tutored me in mathematics, chemistry, geography, grammar, and science. No matter how fast I picked up the other subjects, reading remained my Achilles' heel. I spent countless hours in the library studying with the desire to become a great reader like Mr. Sullner. Yet I always felt as though the words were my enemy. When I thought I had them, they would turn on me and leave me back where I began.

  Mr. Sullner was very patient with me. He would have me read aloud to him for two hours every day while he wrote in his journal. No matter how much I stumbled or stuttered, he would always help and encourage me.

  “...in spite of his - of the mo-mobil-it mobility...”

  A polite nod and smile told me I was correct.

  “...the mobility of his co-cont-count-”

  I looked up and shook my head. Mr. Sullner waited expectantly.

  “I caint. I ain't ever gonna be a good reader.”

  “Adam.”

  “I'm never going to be a good reader,” I corrected. “The words keep messing up on me. I can't get them right.”

  Mr. Sullner rose and walked over to where I stood. “Adam, ninety percent of the things we accomplish in life are things we were taught to do and worked hard learning to do well. There are very few things in life that a man cannot do, but everything you do will have consequences. Do you understand?”

  “Not really, sir.”

  “Let me put it another way. Can you stop breathing?”

  I shuffled around and began tapping my right foot. “I can hold my breath.”

  “For a short period of time. But eventually, whether by your own desire or not, your body will require oxygen and retrieve it itself.” I nodded. “Now, Adam, could you commit a crime?”

  “No,” I replied. “I'd go to jail.”

  He got that smile on his face that he always got when he had made a point. “But you could. You would just have to suffer the consequences of your action. Now do you see?”

  I nodded. It would be a long time before the true gravity of what Mr. Sullner had explained became clear to me, but at that time I grasped his basic concept and resolved that I would someday be a great reader.

  Mr. Sullner went back to his seat as I started over. “...in spite of the mobility of his count-en-ance countenance-”

  I broke off as there was a knock at the study door. Upon being called, Tom entered followed by an old woman. My jaw dropped when I recognized Sister Mary Williams. She gave me a reproachful look and told me to shut my mouth. I did.

  “Thank you for taking the time to travel so far on such a short notice, Sister Williams,” Mr. Sullner greeted kindly taking her proffered hand. “I trust your commute was satisfactory?”

  He led her to the chair across from his desk and helped her sit while I stared in dismay.

  “Indeed not, Mr. Sullner,” Sister Mary replied with her customary amount of contempt. “I dislike trains and would much prefer to stay at home where my services are needed.”

  Mr. Sullner smiled, ignoring her verbal assault. “Nevertheless, I am honored that you chose to make an appearance at my request.”

  “As I told your attorney, I was more than willing to handle any custodial requirements on my end without an audience.”

  Mr. Sullner leaned back in his chair, something he only did when he was becoming irate. It did not happen very often.

  “He informed me of your decision, but I was adamant about putting your mind at ease regarding Adam's living arrangements. I wanted you to be certain he was well provided for.”

  Somewhat sated, Sister Mary relaxed. “That was a very kind gesture on your part, Mr. Sullner.”

  She looked around and surveyed me critically. “You look thin. Are you eating well?”

  “Yes, ma'am,” I croaked trough a dry mouth.

  “I did promise your mother I would care for you,” she said softly. “You seem well cared for. I suppose I am not going back on my word.”

  “Indeed not, Madam,” assured Mr. Sullner.

  Turning back to him, Sister Mary ask if he had the papers. Mr. Sullner produced a leather binder and pen and sat them before her. She signed with a steady hand.

  “Thank you, Sister Williams.”

  They rose from their seats and Sister Mary approached me. She opened her purse and took something out. “I gave all your belongings to charity except this.”

  She held it out to me and I gasped as I recognized my mother's gold locket. I took it in a shaky hand and opened it, staring at the old black and white photograph of the woman I favored so much. I had spent many hours comparing my reflection to the portrait of Charlotte Pearl Calloway trying to decide which features I had inherited from her and which I had gotten from my father. Though the picture did not show it, I knew I had
my mother's brown eyes and sandy blond hair. But I also had her smile and high cheekbones. My nose, I supposed, I had gotten from the man who had helped created me.

  “Thank you,” I whispered feeling a tear roll down my cheek.

  Never one for sentimentality, Sister Mary only nodded. “Try to behave,” she said before leaving my life forever.

  *****

  Chapter 4

  It was a long time before I could forgive Sister Mary for leaving the way she did without so much as a goodbye. I found it strange that the insensitivity of a woman I thought I hated could cause such resentment. At the prospect of never seeing her again, I was finally able to accept the fact that she had loved me in her own way. And I had loved her as well.

  As time passed I was able to forget the psychological aspect of my relationship with Sister Mary Williams and remember her as the crone I had known in my youth. The locket she had given me at our last meeting I always kept in my breast pocket.

  With Mr. Sullner's guidance, I was eventually able to overcome my dyslexia and develop efficient - if not proficient - reading abilities. I could get through books such as Oliver Twist, Great Expectations, Ethan Frome, and A Tale of Two Cities with minor grammatical errors. I enjoyed reading more than any other chore Mr. Sullner could have me do. Even the hours spent in the lab learning scientific equations and mixing chemicals were boring to me. I would have much rather have read a book about science than experience hands-on training.

  I also became enamored with another pastime that grew in popularity in the 1930s: movies. The first picture show I watched on the silver screen was Anna Christie. Like every other boy in the country, I fell in love with Greta Garbo. It became a tradition for me to attend the showing of any new release that played at the theater on Saturdays. Sometimes Mr. Sullner would go with me, but most times I went by myself.

  Mr. Sullner was a curious man and would often ask me to describe in detail all I had seen, heard and felt on my lone outings. I would relate to him everything I could remember as he sat in his chair by the fire and listened intently. When I finished he would always smile and say what a great story teller I was.

  When I was sixteen, I began dating Allison Hollman exclusively. She was the daughter of Mr. Sullner's bank investor and a remarkably pretty young lady of my age.

  The feature I most loved about Allison was her beautiful, clear emerald eyes. I could stare at her for hours getting lost in the radiant sparkle of her irises.

  Everyone was ecstatic about our relationship. Especially Allison's father, who knew I would be heir to Mr. Sullner's fortune when he passed. It was soon decided among her parents that we were to be married as soon as we were old enough. “Old enough” being eighteen by Mr. Hollman's calculations.

  Though I was fond of Allison, I was in no hurry to marry. Yet I never mentioned my misgivings to her or anyone else. Figuring I would eventually take her for my wife, I let her pretend it would happen sooner rather than later. I admit I was never much of a gentleman with Allison, but my intention to make an honest woman of her someday allowed me to not feel too guilty about taking liberties with her. I suppose I was too much like my father in that respect.

  By the time I was seventeen I was anxious to see the world. I hadn't yet grown tired of the mayhem of New York City, but I wanted to visit other countries. Paris, Rome, Spain, London. I had been reading about them for four years and was itching to experience all the glamor and magic for myself.

  I was even willing to take Allison with me.

  “Adam, we can't go to Paris right now,” was her reply.

  It was late May of 1934 and we were walking through the garden at Sullner Manor. The dogwoods and roses were in full bloom filling the air with their intoxicating aroma. Allison was wearing her sun hat and had to keep her hand over it so that the breeze wouldn't steal it.

  She had to tilt her head back to look at me as I had already reached my maximum height of six foot two and she only came to my shoulder with her heels on.

  “We have responsibilities here. Besides, my father would never agree to an unchaperoned vacation overseas.”

  “He wouldn't have to know,” I insisted.

  Allison's brow crinkled slightly as she frowned up at me. “That's scandalous. The whole city would be talking about me. It would ruin my reputation and break my mother's heart. I'd never be able to show my face here again.”

  I sighed but was unwilling to accept defeat so easily. “Then we'll get married in Paris,” I offered. “You would like that, wouldn't you, Ally? A wedding in Paris? City of Love?”

  Her lips tightened in anger. “A wedding without my family, you mean? That would be even worse. My mother would have a heart attack and my father a stroke.” Allison shook her head in finality. “I am sorry, Adam Calloway, but I will not be going to Paris with you unless it's on our honeymoon.”

  I conceited her point and dropped the subject. We walked on for a while in silence until I attempted to get back in Allison's good graces.

  “The roses are lovely,” I said.

  “I prefer carnations. When I have my own house, my garden will be full of carnations.”

  “Roses are easier to care for. Carnations require much more maintenance. You have to make sure they don't get too much water or sun. It would be diff-”

  I broke off when Allison looked at me with contempt. She often got irritated when I corrected her on anything and accused me of showing off. Allison had graduated from high school, but she was mostly brought up to be a housewife. Any knowledge not essential to running a home or raising children, her parents thought trivial. I didn't consider her stupid, but I couldn't understand how she could remain so ignorant when knowledge was so easily available.

  “Carnations are prettier,” I finally agreed. Not because I thought so, but saying it would sooth her attitude somewhat.

  Allison only nodded.

  I smiled at her. “Not as pretty as you though.”

  Looking up at me, she grinned. “Oh, Adam. I can't stay mad at you.”

  “Good. I would never be happy again if I thought you were mad at me.”

  Allison stood on her tiptoes and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before we continued our walk.

  As winter approached, Allison was called to care for her sickly younger sister and Mr. Sullner had taken to making frequent trips to London on which I was not invited to accompany him. Downhearted and lonely, I occupied my time by reading, studying the chemistry lessons Mr. Sullner had given me and going to the movies.

  My eighteenth birthday came and went without much celebrating. The best part of it was getting drunk with my friend Terrence Groves and driving the Buick into a lamppost. The roads were slick so I probably would have hit the lamppost without being intoxicated, but Mr. Sullner still considered it unacceptable behavior and forbade me to drive until warmer weather.

  Christmas was better with both Mr. Sullner and Allison in attendance. Constance made a wonderful dinner and Mr. Sullner gave me a copy of Seven Gothic Tales. Allison had gotten me a new tie, which I would probably never wear but said I loved, and I gave her a diamond encrusted hair comb which she adored. That evening we all went to a nativity play at Saint Patrick's Cathedral then walked around town singing Christmas carols to everyone who passed.

  As I walked Allison home later that night, she expressed her surprise at getting a diamond hair pen and not a diamond ring. I smiled and told her maybe next year. She began to sulk but stopped as I took a velvet jewelers box from my pocket and opened it for her. Before she could get too excited I asked her to wait until I talked to her father to wear it. Allison agreed and hugged me tightly.

  I forced myself to smile and tried to think of excuses to keep from speaking with Mr. Hollman for the next two years.

  *****

  Chapter 5

  The dawn of 1935 brought about a new world of possibilities for me. I was eighteen and ready for whatever life had to offer me. My engagement to Allison had gone public two weeks after
New Year. She was ecstatic and I was content with her father's idea of postponing the impending wedding for a year.

  I still made my weekly trips to the movies and still had a tremendous crush on Greta. By that age I had taken to always attending the pictures alone. Rarely did I invite Allison to accompany me. She had a horrible habit of criticizing every film we saw, which ruined the magic for me.

  I was elated when the local theater held another showing of my favorite Garbo film Romance. Though I had seen it twice, I had no objections to seeing it a third time.

  Still being grounded from driving, I appeased myself to walking the half mile to the cinema. I took my usual seat in the back row next to the aisle and fiddled with my hat while waiting for the show to start.

  That was when I saw her.

  It was chance that drew my eye to her and once it had, I was powerless to look away. She was the embodiment of all things beautiful. I had never seen anyone so lovely and had to remind myself to breath. Her jet black hair was styled to perfection, her features immaculate. She wore a heavy black coat over a baby blue dress of the latest fashion, it's style complimenting her exceptional contour.

  She turned toward me with unimaginable grace and looked at me with eyes of the most remarkable blue. A subtle smile shaped her full lips as though she could read my thoughts.

  I blushed realizing I had been staring and looked away quickly. I painfully forced myself not to look at her for the duration of the movie. However, all my thoughts were on her. I could not possibly concentrate on plain Greta Garbo when a woman surpassing the beauty of all others sat only a few feet away from me.

  When the show finally ended, I followed my mystery woman to the exit intending to engage her in conversation. She was walking just ahead of me and I hurried in front of her to hold the door. She gave me another enchanting smile as I tipped my hat. I could smell the sweet fragrance of her perfume as she brushed past me and into the darkness of the night street.

  My manners prevented me from following her as a group of young ladies rushed through the door that I held open. I politely smiled at them and they left in a giggling pack. I exited right behind them but caught no sight of the object of my attention anywhere in the vicinity of the theater.