Secret Passages

by R D Hathaway

  “What’s that?” the old man’s toothless mouth smacked. He took an awkward step forward. “What do you want?”

  “Miss Shefford. Is this where she lives?”

  Matthias looked at the outside wall to see if the number matched the one he had been given.

  The man turned around and waved Matthias to follow him. Cautiously, he entered the building and removed his hat. The air smelled dark and old. Matthias was certain Priscilla could not live in this place.

  As he turned to leave, she stepped into the hallway from an adjoining room. She attempted to display her usual confidence, but her nervous hands defied her. They smoothed and pulled at her skirt. They touched her hair and her hat.

  Awkwardly, she extended her hand to Matthias. He attempted to conceal his uncertainty with a nervous smile. Then, realizing her hand had been hanging for a moment too long, he quickly grabbed it and didn’t know what to do next. Luckily, they laughed at the same time.

  “Did you find this place agreeably?” she asked.

  “Yes, very well. The cabbie seemed quite comfortable in knowing where to go.” Matthias turned around. “So, this is where you live; very nice. Yes, it’s nice.”

  “Professor, would you —”

  “Matthias,” he interrupted. “Remember, we agreed that on our private time it would be first names only.”

  “I know, this is just so different. Special.” Her cheeks flushed with pink. “Would you like to go now?”

  She turned to the old man. “Arthur, thank you, I’ll be leaving now.”

  He appeared to be confused.

  Matthias hurried to open the door as she smoothly slipped into the evening.

  “Priscilla, Arthur is an interesting fellow. I expect we will see him at the museum some day?”

  Priscilla gave him a sly grin and lightly slapped his forearm. He laughed and offered his arm to her. Her back straightened a little as she reached forward and cupped her hand onto his upper arm. They both took a deep breath.

  After a few more steps, she asked, “And, what were the plans for this evening?”

  He stopped with a shocked look on his face. “Well, the first item was to take a cab from your place. I hope he comes.”

  “Quick, there he is.”

  He put his arm behind her and hurried her down the sidewalk to where they had begun.

  As they settled in the back of the cab, Matthias leaned forward and said to the driver, “the Waldorf, please.”

  Priscilla’s eyebrows raised a little, and then she subtly braced herself as the vehicle leaped forward. She looked out of the window with some concern.

  “Priscilla,” Matthias began hesitantly, “we have had lunch or dinner together nearly twenty times.”

  “Twenty-one, actually,” she replied. “Fifteen lunches and six dinners after work.”

  He grinned. “Well, I was going to say that for me, this feels like our first, real dinner engagement. I mean, it seems more special.”

  She peeked at him with a sly look.

  Matthias sat forward and watched the traffic go by the cab. “I don’t know if I could get used to driving on the wrong side of the road.”

  “Wrong side?”

  “Yes, in America, we drive on the other side of the street, in the other direction.”

  A perplexed look eased into her face. “Then, might it be you who is motoring on the wrong side.”

  They shared a laugh.

  “Priscilla, what do you think of them?”

  “Of what?”

  “Of automobiles. Do you like to ride in them? I think they are wonderful. I miss the one I had in Iowa. They will change everything, just like the chariot. Oh, here we are!”

  The driver eased to a stop in front of the imposing entry of the Waldorf Hotel. Priscilla’s eyes could not become larger.

  Matthias paid the driver and helped Priscilla out of the vehicle. His chest seemed to swell up as he again offered his arm. He walked into the building feeling that all eyes were on them.

  He said, “This is a wonderful night, so we had to go to a wonderful place. I asked around and I heard that if we are to go to the theater, we must first have dinner at the Waldorf.”

  He gestured in a broad, sweep of his arm.

  “The theater? I didn’t know we were going to the theater or the Waldorf. I’m not sure I’m dressed for the theater and the Waldorf.”

  “Priscilla, if you were dressed any better, they would think the royal family had just arrived, and I’m not sure they could take that shock.”

  His arm squeezed her hand against his body.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the royals were here at this moment,” she responded with particularly precise diction.

  Matthias stopped walking, briefly startling her. Concern filled his eyes. “If you would rather go somewhere else or do something else, let’s do it. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable for even a moment.”

  “And, which theater did you plan to attend, and what is the show?”

  He leaned a little closer to her. Reaching forward slowly and delicately, he touched her hair. It was just a moment, but it was a shock to both of them. Priscilla adjusted her hat and looked around the cavernous entry.

  Matthias recovered. “The show; yes, it seems there are two that might work for us.”

  She turned to him and their eyes met. “I’m sorry, I’m not accustomed to this.”

  “Neither am I,” he whispered.

  She looked down and noticed she still held his arm. Releasing it, she grabbed her purse with both hands.

  To ease the tension, Matthias suggested they find the restaurant. They strolled to the front desk and were directed up the grand stairway.

  London, UK

  The Waldorf

  1923

  IV - 4

  The buzz of elegant patrons in the main dining room couldn’t cushion the impact on Priscilla and Matthias of the aristocratic moment into which they walked. Four massive chandeliers hung from a ceiling painted with cherubim and winged creatures scattered through four gardens of flowers separated by heavy beams accented in gold. Green, marbled granite columns stood in silent rows along the edge of the main salon. Hints of light from lantern-like electric fixtures on the walls brought attention to ornate, Victorian damask wallpaper in deep purple.

  A stoic man in a tuxedo greeted them with deference yet less than subtle arrogance. Confirming the reservation, he turned in silence and strolled into the dining room, apparently assuming they would follow, which they did with innocence.

  A waiter brought them menus and bowed as he departed. Priscilla took a deep breath and placed her napkin upon her dress. She looked across at Matthias whose head slowly swiveled as he absorbed the wonder of this alternate society. “I heard you say to him that you wanted a quiet table. Does that mean we should not speak while we eat?”

  “On the contrary, I want only to hear your voice and nothing from anyone else.”

  She reviewed their surroundings with a discerning gaze, studying in detail the people and the place. With discretion, she looked at the glass accents in the ceiling and the crystal globes on the lamp posts.

  Matthias could only study her. The candlelight flickering in her eyes was hypnotic. As if she moved in slow-motion, he could feel the impression of her flesh when she placed her lips on the glass as she sipped a drink of water.

  “You were saying there were two shows we might see?” she asked brightly.

  “Yes, there are. Depending on your preference, I thought we might see either The Rainbow which is set to Gershwin’s music and is at the Empire or Dover Street to Dixie which they say is a fun revue and is playing at the Pavilion. Does either sound better to you?”

  Priscilla tilted her head a little. “I’m not familiar with Gershwin. Is he a composer?”

 
“Yes, yes he writes some wonderful tunes.” Matthias exclaimed. “He is modern but classical at once. And, he has this gift of writing for a certain theme.”

  He held his breath as he waited for her response. “Do you have any favorite music?”

  “I don’t know what is current. I probably don’t know much about music.”

  She adjusted the silver at her place setting then asked, “Do you like any other music?”

  “Pretty much everything. There’s a lot of music in America. We get people from all over the world and they bring their music. I do like opera, though.”

  “You do? Is there one that you prefer?”

  “I used to be a Verdi fan, but I have come to like Puccini. He writes with more of a passionate understanding of people.”

  Matthias stared across the table. “I’m sorry. I’m just babbling on.”

  He picked up his menu and quickly looked through it.

  “I’m not too familiar with Verdi, but like you, I do enjoy Puccini,” Priscilla said with confidence. “There was a rumor that he was considering coming to London. I would love to attend if he does.”

  Matthias looked at her with delight. “Tell me how a poor and uneducated girl, as you call yourself, has come to enjoy opera, much less all the marvelous and civilized things you prefer. It just astounds me.”

  Her lips slid into a delicate smile as her eyes wandered away from him. “I think there may be simple reasons behind every action we take. It’s easy to dramatize how we end up in a particular place or doing certain things. But, doesn’t it all come down to choices? You may honor my appreciation of opera, but I’m sure old man Warrington doesn’t care.”

  Her eyebrows suddenly rose, and she put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my goodness. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Her serious look melted into a laugh as Matthias joined her silliness. “I think I’ll take him out and get him roaring drunk some night.”

  Priscilla covered her laughter with both hands. She caught her breath. “Butterfly,” she said. “I guess everyone likes that one. I heard it when it first came out. Everyone hated it, but then Puccini rewrote it.”

  “It’s a beautiful piece,” he added. “I’m always drawn to Tosca. The intrigue, the music, the characters, and the integrity which they express when everything is at stake. Do you know e lucevan le stelle? It’s Cavaradossi’s aria when he’s in jail.”

  Matthias leaned back and looked past Priscilla into nothingness.

  “So, are you listening to it right now?” she asked.

  “I’m a little concerned you know me too well. There are words and ideas expressed in that aria that feel meaningful to me. At the end, when he is facing death, he says something like ‘and never have I loved life so much; so much.’ He didn’t love the situation he was in, but he had known a great love, and that meant he had really lived.”

  The wine steward arrived and discussed with Matthias a variety of choices for the evening. Matthias interrupted the steward and asked Priscilla if she would enjoy some wine. She nodded her approval.

  When the steward left, Matthias noticed that she looked pensive, stroking her cheek with her hand. “Okay,” he said, “now you remind me of a line from Shakespeare. It’s is from Romeo and Juliet. Romeo says, ‘Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand that I might touch that cheek.’”

  He felt a moment of panic. “I’m sorry. I do apologize. That was forward.”

  He quickly looked for the wine steward or waiter, to distract from his breach of good manners.

  “I suppose I should be in some shock,” she finally said. She looked away but quickly laid her eyes on him. “I will be so bold as to say that I am flattered. If you have any other lovely quotes from the bard, please offer them.”

  They remained quiet and drank in their rich surroundings.

  Priscilla cheerfully changed the mood. “Matthias, you have been somewhat, shall I say daring, this evening. I would like to be so as well. May I ask a question of you?”

  “Yes, of course, what would you like to know?”

  “I have shared with you some of my past, my early years, but I know so little of you. Please tell me of your family, your parents, and,” she paused, “and of your wife.”

  He scratched lightly at his temple and pulled on his right ear lobe. He sipped more water. “Well, my family came from a small town in central Iowa, which is in the center of America. I guess you could say we were well-centered! Anyway, my father was a self-taught engineer, and he was well respected for his ability to see and anticipate how things should be built or how they should be rebuilt. Like most people in Iowa, he had a hand in farming.”

  He became thoughtful for a moment.

  “I think one reason why he so much wanted me to become a college professor was his appreciation for learning and the fact that he did not get much of an education. Hey, you are a little like that aren’t you? So, he would get calls to work on all sorts of interesting things.”

  Matthias paused with a troubled look.

  “One day, he got a call from the man who managed a coal mine east and south of Indianola; that’s where I lived. Anyway, there are many coal mines in Iowa, and the man that called him was from a big mine in Buxton, Iowa. It’s an interesting place, or at least it was. I think every person in the town was an African person. They brought them in to work the mine until the disaster.”

  Matthias took another drink of water.

  The wine steward arrived and offered a respite from the obvious tension in Matthias’ story. When the steward left, Matthias raised his glass.

  “This is to you Priscilla, for reminding me,” he paused, “for reminding me that life can be good.”

  She nodded and raised her glass.

  They sipped the wine with appreciation, and he continued. “So, one day the manager of the mine called my father and asked him to help them with some structural problems. He offered some very attractive wages for the work. My father accepted. He worked out there for several weeks, but he became increasingly disturbed by how the Negro men who worked the mine were being treated.”

  “You know Priscilla, we Methodists can be troublesome now and then when it comes to social issues. Well, he said some things to the management about treating the men better, and they did not like that. I think they considered him disruptive. It ultimately didn’t matter.”

  Matthias stopped and studied his wine glass.

  “Why didn’t it matter?” Priscilla finally asked.

  He set the glass down. “There was an accident in the mine. My father was killed when a part of the mine structure collapsed. Since then, the situation has deteriorated. People are leaving the town. It’s slowly dying.”

  “How long ago was that? Were you a child?”

  “Oh, no, it was only about ten years ago. It was pretty hard on my mom. She and he were a great couple, and she was not someone to mess with either. I admired her determination. She is also gone. You probably are aware of the influenza pandemic that hit America about five years ago. I don’t know if it reached Europe or England, but it took my mother.”

  He poured more wine into his glass and asked her if she wanted more. She declined.

  Their waiter arrived and took their orders. They both seemed unsure of what to do but had fun figuring it out.

  When the waiter left, Priscilla again leaned forward and gazed directly into Matthias’s eyes. “You’ve had a lot of loss in your life, Matthias. I’m sorry for you. You don’t deserve it.”

  “Well, I am not sure if good fortune or bad is ever deserved. There are consequences to our actions, but it seems that much of what happens to us is not deserved, whether good or bad. I’m not sure that I’ve deserved the pleasure of this dinner with you.”

  Her cute smile reappeared. “Well, you certainly have worked to get here!”

  She grew serious again. “Mat
thias, I understand there is another loss. Will you someday share that story with me?”

  He breathed in deeply. “Yes, I will someday. Ah, here is the food!”

  For the first few minutes after being served, they ate quietly. Matthias looked at Priscilla to see if she enjoyed the dinner, and he noticed that she made quick peeks at other tables, as though she was picking up cues on what to do.

  “Are you enjoying the meal?” he asked her.

  She offered a respectful nod as she chewed.

  She raised her wine glass in salute to Matthias. He followed with the same.

  After a few more minutes, she asked him, “Have you ever come here with Lady Jane?”

  Matthias immediately answered. “No, not at all, Reverend Worthy and I have eaten at her town home a few times and at a restaurant she prefers. We’ve also been to her country home for a weekend.”

  He sat up straight. “It was amazing; really quite grand!”

  The home is in the area called, oh what was it again, either Hampstead or Highgate. I am not sure which. It seems every street and place in London is deserving of multiple names.”

  Priscilla did not seem to be amused.

  “I don’t believe I’ve been out there, Matthias. What’s it like?”

  He stopped eating and touched his mouth with his napkin.

  “Well it’s wonderful, as I said. Hmm, it is Fitz something. Fitzjohns, yes that’s it. The road her estate or country house is on is called Fitzjohns Avenue. There is a small public library out there that has a collection of letters from Keats. The scope of classic literature that is lying around London is simply phenomenal.”

  He eagerly ate more.

  “Have you ever been to Stratford, Priscilla? I would love to go there someday. Could we do that together? It would be marvelous to walk the streets where William Shakespeare walked.”

  “Yes, it would be marvelous. You probably make every journey an interesting adventure. What else have you seen here?”

  His eyes widened and looked into the distance. “Well, there have been so many things. One place stands out. I had quite an odd experience there, actually.”

  He relaxed onto one arm of his chair. “I finally got around to visiting the Temple. It was a pleasant Saturday afternoon, so I walked over there. A fellow let me in and offered to show me around. I told him my name and why I was in London. He was intrigued.”