Rêverie | Vol . 6 Issue 11
“ William , take us to the Killebrew ’ s , would you ?”
“ Yes , Mr . Mann ,” the driver replied .
The drive perhaps lasted 10 minutes or shorter , yet to me it was eternity . I could not break my gaze from the stranger ’ s - no , Mr . Mann was what the driver called him - from Mr . Mann ’ s eyes . He talked incessantly all the while , telling me of how I was wasting my life and of things about myself no one but I should know , seemingly unaware of my gaze , and offered me a Cuban cigar , which I , though I do not smoke , took without question .
At long last we pulled to a stop . I could hear music , what sounded like an orchestra . Mr . Mann ’ s eyes flashed gold again and said “ Look ”, and I saw a mansion . It was a beautiful mansion . A trimmed grass lawn led to an archway supported by columns on each side . Ornate designs lined the doorway , and laughter burst from its insides . Through the open door I could see people dancing , drinking , talking , and past that there was patio overlooking a river with more of the same . All the men wore suits of rich material , and the women dresses of obscene beauty . And here I sat in my dirty boots , filthy overalls , and stained shirt . Slowly I felt the familiar hotness of envy crawl into my heart . How long had I dreamed of parties like this ! The class , the elegance , the pure enjoyment - all unattainable by me . Many an evening had I spent dreaming of this at The Americana of such luxury . Not even a cheap suit to my name , I was condemned to factories and speakeasies forever .
Fortunately , before this self-pity could grow any further , Mr . Mann glanced at me and once again I found myself entranced . He calmly stepped from the car and strode towards the columns , and of course I followed . After we had passed through the archway , the light emanating from the party his watch flashed for an instant , and I was once again reminded of my relative poverty and sorry state .
“ Wait !” I half-whispered , halfgroaned .
Mr . Mann , who was just stepping over the threshold , turned back . His face looked as if I had done him some great inconvenience . “ What is it ?” he snapped . “ I -- I ’ m not like you people . I am truly sorry . It ’ s just that -- well -- I ’ m just a factory worker , sir . I don ’ t even have a proper suit . What business do I have with a party like this ? I don ’ t have watches , canes , silk ties . I ’ m sorry , I
26