Escaping Dreamland
Page 27
When Magda again needed Tom’s help on her third book, Dan Dawson and the Big Fire, which was loosely based on the fire at the Iroquois Theatre in Chicago in 1903, he copied out a stack of articles about the fire from the newspaper archive and included a note reading, Hope we meet again someday. There are no goddesses in Chicago. While she would never forget Dreamland and what Tom had done, Magda came to realize that Gene was right, she was only hurting herself by staying angry with Tom. Though she wasn’t sure she completely forgave him, she found that as she read his note she could once again think of him with fondness.
Tom mailed his own books about Frank Fairfax to Pickering Brothers as completed typescripts. Frank Fairfax and the Lost City of Atlantis and Frank Fairfax among the Mayans were well written and tightly plotted, if a little less original in their details than Frank Fairfax and the Search for El Dorado. Magda knew that neither Mr. Lipscomb nor the average reader of Pickering books would notice the difference, but she couldn’t help thinking, wistfully, that she, Gene, and Tom worked better together than they did alone.
Gene, too, had written the next two books in the Alice Gold series, Alice Gold and the Museum Mystery and Alice Gold and the Mysterious Visitor, without much help from Magda and, it seemed to her, without much enthusiasm. As Lipscomb requested, Alice’s activities remained fairly domestic—though she did venture into the Metropolitan Museum of Art for the title mystery of the second book. In his manuscripts—for Gene sent his books to Magda handwritten and she typed them for him—she could sense his frustration, his desire to have Alice burst the bonds of domesticity and show the world what she could really do. Magda understood Alice perhaps more deeply than Gene knew, and she suspected that Alice’s success—for Buck Larson received more fan mail than either of the other two—was because American girls of 1909 felt the same way she did. They felt trapped by the roles they had been assigned, but desperate to fly.
While Tom never, to her knowledge, returned to visit New York, Magda saw Gene on occasion. They had met at Putnam’s to admire each new round of books and had had a late dinner at Childs perhaps a half dozen times in the past couple of years. He worked long hours at his job, he said. He claimed to be happy, but to Magda he looked tired and pale. He had lost weight, and his clothes hung loosely on his shoulders. Magda had closed the door to the part of herself that had been in love with Gene, but she still cared for him. She worried that he pined for Tom, and while she understood the ache for a man one could never have, she had moved on; she feared Gene might never do so.
As Magda gazed skyward, waiting for Wilbur Wright to return, she wondered if Gene was watching the flight from somewhere else in Manhattan. She suddenly remembered his saying that he wanted Alice Gold to invent a flying machine, one that could take her around the world. If this many people turned out to watch a man fly ten miles up the Hudson River and back, how many, Magda wondered, would celebrate in the fictional streets if Alice Gold flew around the world? What might that say to the girls of America?
Of course, flying around the world would take more than just an inventor. The skills of an explorer might be useful, not to mention the courage of a daredevil. As the sound in the sky announced that Wilbur had safely turned around and was soon to fly back past the crowd that surrounded her, Magda felt a bolt of inspiration.
What if Alice Gold did get out of the house and build a flying machine? What if Frank Fairfax went on a journey of exploration more daring than any before? What if Dan Dawson rescued people from a stampede in Africa and a sandstorm in Arabia and a tidal wave on a Pacific island all in the same book? What if Alice and Dan and Frank teamed up in a new series, a series called the Three Adventurers, or the Wonder Team, or, better yet, the Tremendous Trio? And what if these books—for surely the market for such a grand idea would support multiple volumes—were written by a team of authors: Buck Larson, Dexter Cornwall, and Neptune B. Smythe working together?
The aeroplane flew lower on its return journey, so low Magda could almost make out the face of the pilot. But, with the wind at his back, Wilbur Wright flashed by at an unbelievable speed. The crowds cheered once more, but before the aeroplane was out of sight, Magda was rushing up Twenty-Third Street. She passed her rooming house, crossed Eighth Avenue, and ducked into the Western Union Telegraph Office. She didn’t want to take the time to send a letter, and besides, Gene, the master of electricity, would appreciate a telegram. She scribbled her message on the order form and handed it to the clerk:
Brilliant idea for Alice, Dan, and Frank. Childs 7pm. Magda
“It will never work,” said Gene.
“You mean Alice can’t design an aeroplane that can carry three people and travel across oceans?”
“Oh, that part’s easy,” said Gene. “To build a machine like that on the principles the Wrights have pioneered would only take money, and Alice has plenty of that. No, I mean you’ll never lure Tom back to New York.”
“I might,” said Magda.
“You’re not going to lie to him,” said Gene.
“What, you mean tell him I love him? No. But I can tell him I forgive him.”
“It might not be you he’s running away from,” said Gene. “Maybe he’s just being kind to me.”
“It’s been three years,” said Magda. “Don’t you think we can all just be friends? After all, you and I seem to have made friendship work.”
“There’s not a tiny part of you that still wants me to be different?” said Gene.
Magda knew that part of her was more than tiny, that given the slightest encouragement she would be back in love with Gene in an instant, but some things, for the sake of friendship, were best left unspoken.
“No,” she said firmly. “You are who you are and I would never try to change that. I can’t be in love with you, so I’m happy to have you as a friend. Don’t you think Tom will feel the same way?”
“Even if he does, that doesn’t mean he’ll come back to New York. His career is in Chicago now.”
“We could do it through the mail. You and me working together here and Tom sending us his chapters.”
“It wouldn’t be the same,” said Gene.
“I know it wouldn’t be the same,” said Magda testily. “I don’t expect it to be the same. But it would be better than this. Tom off in Chicago and the two of us having lunch every few months.”
“It was a special summer,” said Gene, “but it’s over.”
“Forget about the summer,” said Magda. “Forget about Tom being in love with me and me being in love with you and you . . .”
“It’s all right,” said Gene softly, “you can say it.”
“You being in love with Tom,” said Magda, lowering her voice. “What about the book? Do you think it’s a good idea?”
“The Tremendous Trio?” said Gene. He took a long drink of coffee and drummed his fingers on the table for a moment. “That’s the problem. I think it’s a fantastic idea.”
“Really?” said Magda, her anger melting away.
“But they shouldn’t go around the world in the first book. Save that for volume three. Start out with some adventure closer to home. Something that uses all their skills.”
“So you’ll do it?” said Magda.
“Not without Tom,” said Gene. “And like I said, you’ll never get Tom.”
“Let me get Lipscomb first,” said Magda. “Then I’ll worry about Tom.”
Magda knew better than to suggest new ideas to Mr. Lipscomb during the Christmas season and she knew, too, that after the holidays he would be making his annual trip of a month or two to visit his family in England. Once he returned, he would be frantic to catch up on business for a few weeks. That meant there was no point in floating her idea about combining the forces of Alice Gold, Dan Dawson, and Frank Fairfax until March or April. That gave her some time to soften up Tom, and to work on an outline for volume one of The Tremendous Trio.
Dear Tom,
Last year you wrote that you hoped I could forgive you. It took some time, but I have, and Gene has, too. We miss you and hope to see you in 1910.
Fondly,
Magda
Tom replied with a card showing Santa sitting on a bench in his toyshop, looking over his naughty and nice list. Hoping you have a happy holiday, he wrote. Give my best to Gene if you see him. It wasn’t exactly a promise that Tom would rush back from Chicago to see them, but it was a start.
While Mr. Lipscomb was gone, Magda answered correspondence, including the fan mail that always peaked in the weeks after Christmas, dealt with visitors to the office, and did whatever else Mr. Lipscomb asked of her in his near daily telegrams. One day, with the office quiet, she threaded a sheet of paper into her Hammond and typed: The Tremendous Trio. Gene had said to keep them closer to home in the first volume, so she needed someplace not too far from New York where they could have an adventure that combined something a daredevil might do with the potential for invention and rescue. She crept into Mr. Lipscomb’s office, where he had a map of the United States on the wall with pins pressed into all the spots where bookstores carried the Pickering series. Most of the pins were clustered around New York City. She moved her eyes in concentric semicircles around the city, moving farther away until she spotted it, four hundred miles to the northwest. After the words The Tremendous Trio she typed at Niagara Falls.
About the time Lipscomb was sailing for home in March, Magda wrote Tom again, this time on a postcard of the Flatiron Building. Mr. Lipscomb might have a writing project for the three of us. Could be fun to work together again.
Tom did not respond for nearly a month. His postcard of the Field Museum bore the message: Likely to be in lovely Chicago indefinitely. Apologies to Mr. Lipscomb.
Magda did not plan to give up. In the months since she had first suggested the idea to Gene, the Tremendous Trio had taken root in her mind. They had given her a drive she hadn’t felt since the summer of 1906 and that drive had twin motivations. Yes, she wanted to reunite the trio of Gene, Tom, and Magda, but she also wanted to create something wonderful. Something that would both entertain and inspire children. Isn’t that what they had all set out to do in the first place? Tom’s hiding in Chicago was not about to deter her.
In late April of 1910, Marcus Stone, the author of the Daring Dan Dawson books, sent Julius Lipscomb of Pickering Brothers, Publishers, a telegram saying he had come to New York from Philadelphia and would like to meet to discuss an idea. Magda would have liked Gene’s help in transforming into Marcus Stone, who had been hanging in her wardrobe for the past four years untouched, but Gene had sent her a postcard three weeks earlier with the message: Working on a project at the power plant here for a few months. I’ll let you know when I’m back in NY. While she missed seeing Gene, the coincidence of the postcard meant she had absolutely chosen the right setting for the first Tremendous Trio book. The picture on the front of the card showed Niagara Falls. Gene might not be able to help her transform into Marcus Stone, but he would soon know all about the falls. That wouldn’t matter, of course, if she failed to play the role of Marcus Stone convincingly and sell Mr. Lipscomb on the idea of The Tremendous Trio.
The first challenge was no challenge at all. Mr. Lipscomb hardly glanced at Marcus Stone after the two “men” shook hands.
“A series that combines heroes?” said Lipscomb, when Mr. Stone had presented his idea.
“Exactly. Stratemeyer hasn’t done anything like it, and you could sell books to fans of all three series.”
“What sort of adventures would they have?”
Mr. Stone hesitated. He didn’t want to give Mr. Lipscomb any details of his ideas, at least not yet. He certainly didn’t want to intimate that Alice Gold, whom Lipscomb wanted to stay within the confines of her home or at least her neighborhood, would soon be flying around the world.
“I’d need to discuss that with the other authors, of course, but they would be consistent with the books already published.”
“But I’d be paying three authors.”
“You’d pay each of us a third as much. After all, we’d each only be writing a third of the book.”
“Stratemeyer has three new series coming out this year,” said Lipscomb, “College Sports, Motor Girls, and Tom Swift. And he’s putting out breeder sets for all three.”
“Breeder sets?” said Mr. Stone. Magda knew all about breeder sets, but Mr. Stone would not. Stratemeyer always started each new series with three volumes published simultaneously, so he could build interest more quickly. It involved a bigger initial outlay of expense but also a bigger potential return. Lipscomb had been loath to follow this example, not wanting to spend the money for a set of three volumes that didn’t sell. One volume at a time not selling, he said, was more than enough. But now he seemed to have changed his mind.
“If I do this,” he said, “I want to do three volumes at once. And I want them for the Christmas market. And I can only pay one hundred dollars per volume.”
Magda had no idea if she could convince Tom to take part. She had no idea when Gene would be back in New York. She had, in short, no reason at all to believe that the three of them could write three books in the next five months. But she wasn’t about to give up the advantage she had gained in the conversation with Lipscomb. “I think we could provide three volumes in time for Christmas.”
“Not this Christmas,” said Lipscomb. “I’ve already set the list for this Christmas. Did it on the ship on the way over. This will be for Christmas 1911.”
Magda breathed a sigh of relief. That would give her plenty of time to convince Tom and for Gene to get back to the city. The Tremendous Trio might not see the light of day in 1910, but she could look forward to 1911.
“And will there be another Daring Dan Dawson on the list for this Christmas? Or Alice Gold or Frank Fairfax?” said Mr. Stone. Magda needed to know if they would all be writing individual volumes again this year.
“No,” said Lipscomb. “More about sports this year and less about inventions and adventure. And it works out well. It means two years off from Dan Dawson and Alice Gold and Frank Fairfax; that will build anticipation for the new series. I can run advertisements in the back of all my new titles. What did you say you called it?”
“The Tremendous Trio,” said Mr. Stone.
“The Tremendous Trio,” said Lipscomb, trying out the sound of the words. “I like that.”
Two weeks later Magda had letters from both Gene and Tom responding to the news that Lipscomb wanted a triptych of Tremendous Trio books for the following Christmas. Gene wrote:
Magda Dear,
Great news that “Marcus Stone” has prolonged the lives of Frank, Alice, and Dan. I may be in Pittsburgh for a few months after I finish here, but should be back in New York no later than New Year’s. I think the idea of sending Dan over Niagara in a barrel, invented and built by Alice, is brilliant. And how convenient that Buck Larson is currently residing in earshot of those very falls.
I hope your goal in all this is simply to create good books and not to try to recapture the past through a reunion of our own trio. In any case, I doubt you will convince Tom to return to town. I’m sure you could write the books on your own, if it came to that, but know that I will be glad to lend a hand.
Fondly,
Gene
Tom’s letter was hastily scrawled on the letterhead of the Chicago Examiner.
Magda,
Sounds a grand idea, but I will be in Chicago indefinitely. I’m sure you and Gene will do a great job and I’m happy for you to split the share of Neptune B. Smythe.
Tom
XXIX
New York Public Library,
Wh
en Taft Was President
Gene’s work in Pittsburgh had led to another job in Detroit and he had been out of the city, and out of touch, for nearly a year. Tom responded to Magda’s occasional cards with polite curtness, never showing any interest in either writing another book or returning to New York. Magda’s life felt very much as it had in the years before she had met Tom and Gene. Except it didn’t. When she climbed the steps to the El, she could see Gene in front of her, reaching out his hand. When she read in the Muhlenberg Library, she could hear Tom whispering to her about Dan Dawson. When she walked in Central Park or read about a baseball game or went to a museum, she could feel them beside her. When she ate at Childs, she could hear their laughter, mingling with her own, drifting over the crowd from the table in the back. Whenever the door to the Pickering Brothers offices opened, she looked up, half expecting to see Tom in his double-breasted suit carrying his silver-handled walking stick. Tom and Gene were everywhere and nowhere. She was both comforted by their presence and saddened by their absence. But the one thing she never felt, even when she had genuinely forgiven Tom and missed him all the more for it, was alone.
Feeling their presence by her side, she had the courage to be unconventional—to wear Marcus Stone’s trousers and shirt once in a while on a Saturday just because she felt like it, to go to the theater unescorted and ignore the looks of disdain from the wives of gentlemen, to stand up to Mr. Lipscomb when he was being unreasonable, to hail her own taxicab, to ride a bicycle, to have a drink, and especially to scorn the advances of men whom she knew would wrest that unconventionality from her, men whom she could tell in ten seconds of conversation had never read a book, men who would consider her intellect a liability, her independence a handicap. Tom and Gene had shown her that she deserved to be more than the background decoration in some other person’s story, that she did not need a husband to feel worthwhile, or successful.