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

Chapter 33 - First Year

The weeks, then the months, passed, punctuated by my lessons and my revisions. Every Sunday, I observed the same ritual. In the same way that some went faithfully to church, I sat my desk, clearing it from all my books to put a blank sheet of paper on it. Then I took my pen to write to Charles, telling him what I had learned, life in Chicago or any anecdote about my week that I found worth telling. Sometimes, in a fit of melancholy, I wrote about the gang, memories that I had or my doubts about the future.

I wrote to keep the link, but also to confide in myself, as I would have done in a diary. When I sent my first letters, I didn't expect to receive any response. I was sure he would play dead to discourage me from continuing to write. I even thought he wouldn't go to the post office to pick them up.

But to my surprise, he replied. Oh, he didn't do it with every letter, he was no more talkative in writing than in speech. But he also kept the link, commenting on my stories, giving me words of encouragement when I doubted my abilities. He reassured me about his condition but told me very little about his life.

The little I knew came from the brief words he sent me when he moved, giving me the new address to write to. Each time, I went to the library to see his movements on a map. I didn't always understand why he was choosing this or that place, but he didn't seem to want to explain it to me, so I didn't talk about it, worried too much that he would stop giving me news if I insisted too much...

In his first letter, he informed me that he had found Arthur's body. He had buried him on a mountain, facing west, as he would have liked. Susan was dead too. He was not sure what had happened. He found her in the camp with a gaping wound in her stomach. He had taken the time to bury her too. He did not know what had happened to the others. He had just noticed footprints near Arthur's, before they separated and disappeared. John maybe? But he couldn't trace it. He may have survived, but given the strength of the Pinkerton's attack, he doubted it. Abigail, Jack, Tilly... He didn't know either.

His writing was neat and regular, like everything he did. Mine seemed messy in comparison. I wondered who taught him how to write like that, he never told me about it. Another thing I did not know about this man to whom I would have entrusted with my life without the slightest hesitation.

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"Chicago, December 3rd, 1899.

Dear Charles,

This morning I was awakened by a great light. A thick layer of snow fell overnight, after several days of cold. My god this cold, I had never known anything like it. Fortunately, Mrs. Brown warned me and forced me to buy a warm coat. It cost me more than I would have liked, but now I am happy to have spent so much money, I would never have been able to survive without it.

Have you ever seen the snow? I've never seen anything so beautiful. And again, I've only seen it in the city, I'm sure it's even more magical on great plains or forests. Mrs. Brown says that sometimes there are even storms that immobilize the city for days on end. I'm glad I have a heater in my room. It helps me stay awake late to study. It's not easy, but I'm hanging on.

Today we are going to decorate the foyer for Christmas. Apparently, we are going to install a tree and decorate it. I have never seen anything like it and I can't wait to do it. This will be my first Christmas away from my ranch and my family. But I'm sure it will be fine. Anyway, I have so much work that I will probably spend it studying.

I hope you are doing well and that it is not too cold where you are.

Fondly,

Anna

PS: Do you realize that in 3 weeks we will be in 1900? I wonder what this new century has in store for us."

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"December 13th, 1899

Anna,

I've seen snow. You're right, it's beautiful. I hope that one day you will see it somewhere else than in the middle of the city buildings. I hope there won't be too much storm in Chicago this year. We suffered one after the Blackwater disaster, it's a memory I could do without. Where I am there is a little snow, but not much. Maybe in February there will be more, but I don't know if I will still be there.

This new century has a respectable life as a doctor in store for you. Even if you must work hard for it, don't exhaust yourself. The road is still long. So, please, rest and eat regularly. I know you, you forget everything when you are focused on your work. But it's not good. You need to take care of yourself.

Charles."

I was smiling. Some things never changed. If he had been there, he would surely have taken me out of my room every night to force me to eat and take a break. Mrs. Brown did it very well for him, she often knocked on my door to bring me food and talk to me for a few minutes.

The following week, I decided to brave the cold and snow to admire Chicago just days before Christmas. The snow and the lights gave the whole city a magical aura. The windows of the department stores were decorated, full of toys and gifts of all kinds. I couldn't help but think that even Charles would have loved the city this season.

I was careful not to spend too much money. My studies were taking too much time for me to work, so I had to manage what was left. I often wondered how I could have done without this providential scholarship. I still didn't know what Charles had done to get it for me, but it was a true gift from heaven.

I still decided to spend a dollar or two. For Charles, a nice card decorated with holly and robins. For Mrs. Brown, a pretty box full of cookies. I stopped in front of fountain pens. One of them was entirely black, carved with ivy. It looked surprisingly like the pistol Charles had given me a few months earlier. Its price was far too high for me to afford. I made a promise to come back to buy it when I would finally be a doctor. It would mark my success.

On the evening of the 24th, we held a party, with Mrs. Brown and the few boarders who had found nothing better to spend the holidays. We all got busy in the kitchen in the afternoon, before setting up a buffet in the foyer. There, we spent the evening to the sound of the phonograph brought back by the owner. The next day, she left to be with her family for the day. The pension was very quiet, I could spend my Christmas day working by the fire in the foyer.

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The first results of my work were good. I could still improve in some areas, but nothing was catastrophic as I feared. Now I had to keep going. The cold streets of Chicago were good encouragement to continue. Although the fireplace and the comfortable seats of the foyer were attractive, I managed to impose myself long work sessions in my room.

Spring came without my having really discovered my new city.

In June, the news came. I had passed my year brilliantly and was admitted to the second year of college. As usual, Charles was the first to hear about this success. The road would still be long, but I knew that I'd succeed.