Thursday, March 26, 2020

The Green Ribbon

This is an unedited, un -reviewed first draft of a story I have been writing for several years.
If you like it, great please let me know. If you don't, let me know anyway.

INTRODUCTION

A man's world is enriched, then shattered by his love for a young woman he never gets to meet.  He loves her from afar. Her warm smile and what seems to him to be her joy of life, opens a door in his heart and in his life, that he did not know existed.
He is a straight- laced college professor with a fine wife and family.  She is a factory worker from the tenements, living from paycheck- to- paycheck but dreaming of better days in America.

The year is 1911 in New York City. She works at the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory.


THE GREEN RIBBON     CHAPTER 1
Spring is always lovely in New York City. And so it was in March of 1911.

The flowers crept out of their hidden beds, the trees exploded with green and white blossoms. Some had pungent fragrances. Magnolias smelled sweet and light. Early roses added a scent to the air as you pass by. The skies sometimes continued grey and blustery, but slowly they cleared to a crystal blue that could take your breath away. The sun found its way from behind the clouds and glowed early in the morning so that the dew on the grass in Central Park looked like crystals.
Of course, with spring and warmer air comes melting snow and ice. That exposed the dirt and grime and filth that had been hidden; frozen since that cold snap in December. But, animal leavings and rotting fruit were all part of spring in New York City in 1911.
Professor Henry Rutledge loved it all. Well, not the horse dung. He had seen enough of that during his summers on his Uncle Joshua’s farm. But the beauty and the promise of another spring always added a lilt to his step and a small smile to his face.

In 1911, Paul’s children were just the right age to ask too many questions. Being a college professor, he expected inquiries from his students.  But, they were young adults, not 8 and 11 year old children with unbridled curiosities. He grew impatient with his children quickly and insisted that when he come home each evening, they greet him politely then disappear until supper.  That way he could sit comfortably in his overstuffed chair. Put his feet up on the Ottoman. Light his pipe and read the newspaper without interruption. He was, after all, the master of the house and what he said was law.

Henry Rutledge was not a domineering man, but he wanted order in his household and he did not want to have to justify every decision he made or every order he gave, to his family. He wanted his life to be uncomplicated and predictable. He wanted his wife, Helen to be beautiful and obedient. He had worked hard to obtain a Doctorate in Greek and Roman history at New York University, and now, since he taught at that very same institution, he wanted to move up the ladder of the faculty with a family that would make him proud.

The world of New York City, and the outside world in general, were of little importance to Henry.  He read of the crime and the corruption in city politics, but that did not concern him because his world was purely academic. He found some interest in world affairs as they related to his studies in ancient history, but the troubles across the sea did not touch him directly, so he read about them as a kind of entertainment.  He was confident and you could say, arrogant. He knew his place in society and those beneath him were of little consequence.

Until he saw her.