Outlaws - An American Youth - [Charles Smith x OC]

Chapter 31 - Chicago

This was my first train trip, and this was undoubtedly the worst. Not because the transport was rudimentary, the months spent with the band had accustomed me to minimal comfort. No, the most difficult to bear was the pain that tore my heart. I had lost family and friends, and I didn't know how to deal with it.

Charles' behavior had absolutely not help. How could he ignore me like that, not even having the honesty to come and say goodbye to me. Is that all I was worth to him? Had I really been just a companion of opportunity, who he didn't even respect enough to behave decently with her? The thought lifted my heart, I wanted to throw up. I had to face the facts, I was wrong all the way.

On board, I tried to stay strong. But soon, the tears flowed without me being able to stop them. All the passengers could see me, but I didn't care. I had never felt such hopelessness. Now that I had nothing else to do but rest and think, all the emotions of the past few weeks was overwhelming me.

After a while, an elegant elderly woman approached. She handed me a handkerchief, and with incredible sweetness, asked the reason for my sorrow. I was amazed. In Valentine, women like her were all rascal and judgmental.

I didn't tell her everything, of course. I just explained that I left my family and friends to study medicine, and that I didn't know if I would ever see them again. She patted my hand and kindly told me that I was one of the luckiest people on earth. I frowned, not understanding.

"It's a great proof of love they did to you. They did everything so you could study, so you could become someone. Doctor, that's something, especially for a woman. They have made sacrifices so that you can do good around you, take care of people, and maybe, in turn, change someone's life. And while it's okay to be upset that you won't see them anymore, you should be thankful that you have known such love in your life."

Her words drew me a few tears of emotion. She was right, Arthur and Charles had given me an incredible chance. Get back on track. Do what I knew best. Such an opportunity rarely happens. It was up to me not to spoil it.

Of course, her optimism and kindness touched me. But the sadness and the aftermath of the madness of the previous months could not be erased so simply. During the thirty hours of this trip through Canada and the United States, melancholy often came knocking on my door. Always more vicious.

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Gray weather greeted me in Chicago. In the tumult of the passengers, I tried to fight my way without being carried away. I had very little information about my new life in the end. I knew I had to be picked up, and that was about it. I stopped in the middle of the station, looking completely lost.

A woman walked with a determined step towards me. She introduced herself as Mrs. Brown, the owner of the pension where I was going to stay. It was a cheerful woman who immediately made me feel comfortable. She reminded me of my big sister Helen, always cheerful, always watching over others. I found great comfort in that.

Without further ado, she drew me into the city movement. After weeks in the silence of the forest and the mountains, the whirlwind of carts and people made me dizzy. We got on a tram, from which she described all the streets around us. All this information was overwhelming, I couldn't realize that this was my new life, and that soon, I would know all these streets by heart.

We arrived at the pension after a twenty-minute journey. It was located on a busy street in one of the countless red brick buildings in central Chicago. It wasn't luxury, but it was warm, and much more comfortable than all my last accommodations combined.

On the ground floor, there was a dining room for our shared meals. There was also a large foyer with lots of seating, a fireplace, and a large library. The walls lined with green were covered with paintings and trinkets of all kinds, giving the room a curious but intimate look.

She dragged me upstairs. I had a single room, like all the other residents, twenty in number. At the end of the corridor was a bathroom and the amenities, which I would share with eight other women. If the pension was mixed, the men's quarters were well separated from the women. The only possible exchanges were in the common areas. And any suspicion of misconduct would result in the immediate dismissal of the two people, she said very seriously. She cared about the good reputation of her establishment.

We entered my room. It consisted of a single bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. This simplicity suited me perfectly, and I felt immediately at ease. In a corner of the room, a large white block called out to me. I walked over, wondering what this strange thing could do.

"Have you never seen a cast iron heater? It has become very popular here, everyone is installing it.

- Never, we used wood back home.

- Well, I'm sure you will find it very comfortable in the cold winter nights. It's snowing a lot in Chicago you know.

- I can't wait to see that.

- Oh, wait a bit, after a few weeks of muddy snow, you will pray for the return of spring! Anyway, here is your room, I think I showed you everything. It's simple but it's yours.

- It's perfect. It's been a long time since I've had a place just for myself.

- Do you have any other questions?

- Yes, you didn't tell me how much I owe you.

- Nothing at all, everything was settled with Charles. He got you a scholarship which will pay me directly as well as your studies."

My heart sank again when I heard his name. He really worked hard for me. I regretted that we had separated on such a negative note. What an idiot. I knew it was going to hurt me, but right now all I wanted was to hear about him.

"How do you know him?

- Charles? He lived here for a while. A charming man. He doesn't speak much, but he is very helpful. If only all my residents were like him!"

I gave her a polite smile as she left the room, letting me unpack my bags. So, Charles had lived in Chicago. I wondered what had pushed him in this city, he who loved the great outdoors. I realized that I knew nothing about his life, about him.

In the end, we had few deep conversations, it was mostly me speaking. He would just give me some irrelevant information about his past life, or review our camp life. We had only been close during extreme times, such as when the others were in Guarma, or when we had to flee for Canada. But we never talked about us. We never had a kiss, a tender gesture, in public.

Suddenly, I realized that I had let myself have feelings, however slight, for a man who had not made room for me in his life. I knew it, never with your neighbor. It was exactly for this kind of situation that I had forbidden myself from being intimate with men I was close to in everyday life. Everything gets complicated, it gets mixed up, you think you see things where there aren't. In the end, I did not know who Charles Smith was. He had suddenly become a stranger to me.

At this idea, a whiff of sadness invaded me. I sat on the bed and removed my hat. Everything seemed unreal: my life at the ranch, life among outlaws, death of my friends. With a heavy heart, I lay on the bed and cried for a long time before sadness plunged me into a deep dreamless sleep.

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It still hurts... Should hurt less in the next chapter but I can't promise you anything because I'm mean. This chapter was supposed to be just a bid sad and a lot optimistic... I FAILED.