The Old Scrapbook Read online

  “Hiya Frieda, Bet… glad you get to see me today,” he joked. “How the hell are ya?” He then whispered to Bet. “I think Harriet wants me to introduce you to my brother, first off.”

  Bet felt herself blush. She wanted to run back out the door. If James’ brother was anything like him, he would certainly not be her type. Sure, James was tall and handsome, but he was also loud, boisterous and often times crude, with a very thick West Virginia accent.

  When they got to the dining room, she noticed an even more handsome man sitting, drinking a glass of beer. He was playing with James and Harriet’s three year old daughter, Joanna. He stood when he saw her.

  James called to him. “Hey Ray, this here is Harriet’s niece, Betty. She’s a dish, don’t ya think?”

  “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss,” Raymond said quietly.

  “The pleasure is mine, I assure you,” she responded. She noticed right off, he was a lot more refined than his brother, James. He was quiet and polite. She liked the way he spoke and the sound of his voice. His southern accent was pleasant, without the heavy hillbilly twang.

  Frieda joined her sister in the kitchen.

  “Please, have a seat,” Ray urged. “Would you care for some beer?”

  “I’ve never tasted it, but if it’s alright with Mom and Aunt Harriet, I’d love to try some,” she answered and flashed him a smile.

  “James, be a good host and bring Betty here a glass, this is your house after all,” Ray reminded.

  James yelled towards the kitchen, “Hey Harriet, Bet is here, bring her a clean glass….Harriet! Oh, what the hell is she doing in there?” He walked towards the kitchen.

  “Well, while you’re waiting for your own glass, why don’t you try a sip of mine?” He held the beer out to her and his hands felt warm as the glass changed from his to hers. She noticed his hazel eyes and found comfort in his gaze.

  “Wow, it tastes just like it smells,” she noted. “I’m more of a soft drink gal, but it has an interesting flavor.”

  She handed it back to him. “So, Ray, how long have you been in Chicago?”

  Ray looked around the room in an uncomfortable manner. “I arrived last week. There just aren’t any jobs down in West Virginia, unless a person wants to mine coal. It’s not something I ever wanted to do. I’ve known too many good men who’ve died from the black lung disease. No thank you, Miss.”

  “I don’t blame you one little bit,” she replied.

  “Um, Miss Betty, I want to apologize for all this. I really had nothing to do with it. My sister in-law is just positive we will hit it off. I didn’t want to.”

  “So, you don’t think you will like me?” she asked smiling.

  “Oh, no, no, I didn’t mean….I mean, geez, I’m glad now….”

  “Ray, relax. I don’t bite. I didn’t want a blind date either, but I’m very happy to be here now.”

  “Me too,” Ray said with relief. “Plus, I didn’t know Harriet’s niece would be so…pretty.” He turned away, shyly.

  It was obvious to Bet how difficult that was for a shy guy like Ray to say. “Thanks, kid, you’re not so bad yourself.”

  Harriet came into the dining room with a glass and a fresh quart bottle of beer. The label read: Rhinegold, An Extra Pale Beer, United States Brewing Company, 2519 Elston Ave, Chicago, Ill.

  “Hello, Betty, welcome,” she greeted. “You’re drinking beer? I didn’t know you liked it.” She then whispered, “I had to talk your mom into letting you have a little. It wasn’t too difficult, we drank it younger than you back in Germany.”

  “I’m not sure I do like it, but you know me, I’m always up for new adventures.”

  “Where’s your brother, Donald today?” James asked. “I like that kid.”

  Frieda answered in her muddled German accent. “He wanted to play baseball instead of being with his family.”

  “Well, that’s alright. Kids gotta play.” said James. “Holy cats, Frieda, do you ever smile?”

  “Je, I smile when there’s something to smile about,” Frieda answered.

  Bet knew her mom was wary of her sister’s husband. Although, living herself in Minden, West Virginia, for a time, she had become used to this sort of person. She did, however, seem to like Ray.

  As the night wore on, Bet enjoyed Ray’s company as well as her Aunt Harriet’s pot roast dinner. She also was impressed when she saw him playing with Joanna. He was really good with kids.

  Her mom wanted to leave before it got too late. As she made her intentions known and said her goodbyes, Ray got up to walk them to the door. He took Bet aside.

  “How did you get here?” he asked.

  “Oh… We took the streetcar. It’s not far, we only live over on 59th and Fairfield… Why am I telling you, you don’t know the city yet?”

  “The sun’s going down, Miss Betty. Let me drive you home. It’s not right for nice women to travel the streetcars alone, especially in this city.”

  “Don’t be silly, we do it all the time,” she said with a laugh. “Al Capone is no longer running the city. We would appreciate a ride though, but I didn’t think you had a car.”

  “Just wait right here,” he said. Bet noticed his accent on the word right.

  When Ray returned he was holding the keys to James’ car. Bet loved how much of a gentleman he was, as he opened the car door for her mother and her. He handled James’ Oldsmobile well, but drove much slower than most of the city people.

  She directed him right to her curb, where he parked. Her mom got out first.

  “Thanks for the lift,” Bet said when they were alone. She paused because it looked like he wanted to say something. “Well, goodnight,” she finally said.

  “Miss Betty, I, um, was wondering…”

  She waited through the uncomfortable silence. “What’s the matter, Ray, cat got your tongue?”

  “It’s still early,” he finally said. “Do you like picture shows?”

  “Sure, who doesn’t?”

  “There’s a new western showing. I’d kinda like to see it. How about going with me?”

  His shyness was adorable to her. “Tell you what, Ray. I told my mom I’d play cards with her tonight. How’s about you pick me up tomorrow night. I’d love to go to the show with you.”

  “Hot dog!” he said. His enthusiasm surprised her.

  He got out of the car and went around to open her door, walking her the rest of the way, until she was safely indoors.

  James and Harriet

  ****

  The next night Ray picked her up early. He was dressed in a nicely tailored suit and tie. She wore a new navy and white striped dress. She was glad that the weather was warm. It had been a perfect spring day.

  “Hiya, Joe, whaddya know,” she said as she closed the door behind her. My, you look grand.”

  “Evenin’, Miss Betty. Are you ready for a fun night?”

  “Okay, look, Ray, you can stop with the Miss Betty stuff. Call me Bet, that’s what my friends call me. So, where are we going?”

  “The paper said the picture was showing at the Englewood Theater at 7:00. Do you know where that is?”

  “Sure, it’s on 63rd Street. Let’s go.”

  Bet navigated the way and when they exited the car, she put her hand in the crook of Ray’s arm as they walked towards the theater.

  “Bet, you make a fellow feel ten feet tall,” he said.

  They stopped and read the movie poster outside.

  Zane Grey’s

  The Light of the Western Stars

  Flaming Guns... Flashing Hooves... as knights of the sage-brush roar across the plains!

  Starring: Alan Ladd, Victor Jory, Jo Ann Sayers, Russell Hayden, and more!

  Bet asked Ray for the movie stub as a keep-sake. Ray was a complete gentleman throughout, and even though Bet appreciated this, she thought he could have at least held her hand or put his arm around her. She looked over at him, eating popcorn. He was enthralled with the action showing on the scr
een. Bet supposed it was because picture shows were still a novelty for him. Maybe they didn’t even have them in the little West Virginia town he came from. Ray reacted to everything on the screen. He laughed, hooted, and applauded at the appropriate times. The only time he paid attention to her was to whisper a question like, “Why did he do that?” or a comment on how pretty the actress was. Bet sat back in her seat and sighed.

  After the picture let out, Ray’s happiness was contagious to Bet as she once again held his arm and snuggled into him as they walked.

  “Swell, picture, wasn’t it?” he asked.

  “Sure, swell,” she answered and then added, “What would you like to do now?”

  “You hungry?” He asked.

  “Starving,” she replied. “I thought you’d never ask. Would you like to go to that coffee shop across the street?”

  Ray dug in his pocket and pulled out a folded slip of paper. “Do you know where Orleans Street is?”

  “Sure, that’s downtown. What’s up there?”

  “James told me about this place that was built twenty years ago and ended up being a speakeasy back then. It’s called the Green Door Tavern. I guess during prohibition, painting the door green was a secret sign that liquor was being sold there. It’s one of James and Harriet’s favorite places.”

  “As long as the food is good,” she said. “Let’s go, sounds interesting.”

  As they faced each other at their intimate tavern table, Bet realized Ray’s fascination with the gangster era of Chicago. His head was turning this way and that as he commented on the original 1920s fixtures. To her, it was a scary time. She recalled her mom telling of hiding with her under the bed, hearing gunshots outside their window. It was not Chicago’s finest period. So she decided to redirect his attention onto another historical aspect of the building. She flipped her menu to the back.

  “It says here, this wooden building is a lot older than the restaurant, which opened in ’21. It was built one year after the Chicago Fire in 1872.” She peered at him above her menu. “That’s how it could be made out of wood. It was built just before the city’s new fire codes were established.” She raised and lowered her eyebrows in a Groucho Marx fashion. “Fascinatin’, ain’t it?”

  He smiled at her silliness. For the first time since the date began, she finally had his full attention. “You know, Ray, in Chicago it’s customary to hold a gal’s hand during a picture show.”

  He blushed and tapped his foot, but his eyes still sparkled as he looked at her. “I didn’t want to be too forward with you, right off the bat. Bet, I’ve only dated West Virginia country girls with not nearly as much education as you have. I have never been on a date with a sophisticated city gal, such as you.”

  Bet laughed hard. “Me, sophisticated?”

  “Sure,” he replied. “I mean, you’re still in high school. In a couple of years you’ll be graduating. Heck, girls back home are lucky to finish the sixth grade.”

  Bet stuck out her bottom jaw and spoke with mock aristocratic dialog. “Yes, quite. I see what you mean, I suppose I am extremely sophisticated.”

  Ray laughed.

  “Come on, Ray, I’m just an ordinary girl, living in Chicago. My family isn’t poor, but we’re not rich either.” She reached out and placed her hand on his. “You can start relaxing around me.”

  “I think you’re swell,” he said.

  “Really? As swell as a Western picture?”

  “Sweller,” he answered.

  “Sweller is not a word, but I’m still flattered.”

  “Well, how about this, since we’re talking words,” he started. “Our names, Ray and Bet, both have two meanings. I… bet… you never thought of that, even when the last… ray… of sunlight left for the night. Wanna bet, Bet?”

  “Wow, I’m impressed, my little ray of sunshine.”

  “I have a niece named Betty Jo,” he added. “Do you have a second name like that?”

  “My birth record is only listed as Betty, not Elizabeth, or Betty Jo, or Betty Jean. I don’t like to be called Elisa, Lizzy, or Beth.”

  “I’ll be sure to remember that,” he replied. “I’ll stick with Bet, it’s cute, like your face.”

  “Now you’re gonna go and make me blush. So, tell me about life in West Virginia, or your family. I want to know what makes you tick, Ray Speck.”

  “West Virginia is nice, but there just ain’t no jobs. I come from a long line of old Virginians. My granddaddy, John Weeks, didn’t believe in the war of secession, so when there was talk about part of Virginia breaking off and becoming its own independent state, he moved the family west. That was 1863.” He took a long drink from his beer, followed by a satisfying ah. “My parents were Joseph and Anna Speck. My mama was part French and had beautiful long black hair. She died very young. Both my parents did. Daddy died from a mine injury and my mama’s tuberculosis made her heart just give out one day. She had six kids.”

  “That’s a start,” Bet said. “It’s also sad. Okay, you’ve told me a little about your family, but what about you?”

  “I dunno,” Ray replied sheepishly. “My name is Raymond Lee Speck. I was born on Christmas day in 1921. I am nineteen years old.” He had lowered his voice so the bar owner wouldn’t hear his age. He then put a devious smile on his face. “I’m the youngest and best looking of my kin. I don’t want to work in the mines, I don’t want to marry a West Virginia girl, I like beer and pretty girls and I especially like you.”

  “Okay, so now you’re in the big city of Chicago, what sort of work will you do here? I mean, what would you like to do? What are your dreams?”

  “That’s easy,” Ray said with enthusiasm. He looked around the establishment. “I want to own a place like this. I mean a nice neighborhood tavern with great food. Maybe even sell my own brand of home brew. While others kept their backwoods stills going for their moonshine, I used to make my own beer. My grandfather taught me. He didn’t like the American beers. Pardon the expression, but he called them cricket pee. He showed me how to brew a hearty German style beer. The beer you had the other day at my brother’s house had a German name, but it wasn’t really German style.”

  “That’s a good dream, Ray.”

  “Yes, well, I’ll have to start by getting a job in a place like this and work my way up. Even if I have to wash dishes.” He looked a little sad.

  Bet patted his hand and then went back to her hamburger and Squirt.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Chicago, Present Day

  I usually enjoyed sleeping in on Saturdays, but a dream I could not recall woke me early. Even Moonshadow wasn’t up yet. I chose a good breakfast blend K-Cup and sat on my couch watching the sun peeking above the lake’s horizon. I sure wish I could recall that dream. Something about it made me feel sad. It must have had something to do with the pictures and scrapbook the night before. I did sort of immerse myself in it. Megan turned out to be pretty good company.

  The hot coffee burned my mouth and caused me to spill a little. I set my cup down on the coffee table and reached for a tissue. As I did, I caught sight of the scrapbook again. It drew me in, just like before. I didn’t even know what it was that piqued my interest so much. I didn’t know these people. It was a three year slice of someone’s life. Ray died early and as for the woman, it was probably a long forgotten memory, or at least one she tried to forget. But who was she? It’s like I had to know.

  I opened the scrapbook and landed on a page with theater stubs. There were unidentified stubs from the Englewood, the Paradise, and Tivoli theaters. Plus the play Junior Miss from the Harris Theater. There was also a colorful stub from Soldier Field in September of 1942 called: Army War Show. The cost was fifty cents. It had a slogan that read: Take the load off his HEART!

  I spoke to Moonshadow, “What does that mean? They must have really loved going to shows back then.” Moonshadow ignored me and instead started cleaning his face.

  I went through a few more pages and stopped on the large one t
hat read: OUR ENGAGEMENT. On one side she had drawn well-done stick figures, labelled HIM and ME with a heart shaped diamond ring between them. On the other side she dated it as Wednesday Night, November 11, 1942. She also had hearts with initials and arrows going through them. Under the stick figures, she had chronicled their courtship:

  1940 – May – Met at Aunt Harriet’s

  First Date – Show – Western

  All dates thereafter – Shows

  “See, I told you,” I said to Moonshadow. This time he meowed for me to feed him. I continued reading.

  1941 – Still going together. (With other dates in between)