A Secret Letter Sent from Chicago

Beloved Elizabeth,

Why haven't you written me? Everything here is the bee's knees, with one exception: it feels like it has been forever since I've heard from you.

I miss you terribly!

Let me update you on the whirlwind that's been my life lately.

You know how independent I've become, thanks to my job as a switchboard operator. I spend my money on what I want!

Well, it just so happened that I went to a boxing match about a month ago. I know I'm quirky, but I find it immensely entertaining when two huge men punch each other in the face!

It makes me laugh!

Now, please be aware, before I tell you about this man I met— I am NOT in love with him. My love for you is infinite and eternal.

His name is Jake. His last name isn't relevant. He's Italian— tall, dark, and handsome. I felt his eyes on me before I turned around and caught him staring at my gams. I just shook my head when I caught him. It's not the first time I've been touched by a man's gaze. Obviously.

He was dressed in such swanky clothes, a dapper black suit, a white silk shirt, black tie, black waistcoat. White shoes and black spats. Monochromatic! His slicked black hair and his white face only add to that effect. I've never told him that he needs to get some sun. I don't want to hurt his little feelings. Hahaha!

When he started talking to me, I could tell he was infatuated. And sure enough, he asked me out on a date.

He took me to a speakeasy! You know what that means, right? Bars are naturally kept secretive, on the hush hush, so people are supposed to 'speak easy' about where they are located.

I acted like it was my first time going to one, but I'd actually been to one a couple times. The one I'd previously frequented was a small joint located in the attic above a flower shop.

The one Jake took me to? It was in a funeral palor! Can you believe it? He was watching me like a hawk when we got there. I know he wanted to see if I would be appalled.

I'll admit I was shocked. I've only been in funeral parlors for one reason. You know.

But I never showed Jake the slightest hesitation.

In fact, I grabbed his hand, saying, "Let's get this show on the road!"

He just beamed! His smile was as big as a clown's. He looked like the cat who swallowed the canary!

His eyes blazed like hearth fire.

Heart to hearth?

I think that's when he started carrying a torch for me.

Not that he's ever admitted it!

So inside, we walk through this showroom, past all these caskets. He called them "eternity boxes". That's what my grandfather used to call them. It gave me the heebie-jeebies.

But once again, I was stoic.

Men love a lady who is confident. They love a mysterious woman. Nothing exudes both courage and class like a woman who remains silent. Men can assume all kinds of things when a tomato keeps her yap shut.

He led me down a short hallway to this black door. He stepped up and knocked five times in rapid succession. Then, after a pause, he slowly knocked two more times. A panel opened in front of his face. A burly voice asked, "What's the password?"

Jake wiggled his finger in the air in a jagged downward motion, saying, "Lightning strike."

I heard the sound of a deadbolt being raised. We were ushered inside. As the door was shut behind us, I saw the stairway leading down.

Jake started hopping down the steps like an excited toddler, whistling 'I'm Thirsty for Kisses, Hungry for Love.'

Downstairs, the basement was easily twice the size of the funeral parlor. It was huge. So many tables! At least fifty people! Maybe more. There was a bar, with a counter & stools, and probably a hundred bottles of liquor on high shelves behind it. Three bartenders. There was no band performing that night, so couples were dancing to jazz records. Cigarette smoke created a fog, but sharp electric lights cut through it.

You probably still use kerosene lanterns out on the farm, don't you?

There is a reason why they call alcohol 'giggle water'. That joint was loud with people's laughter!

I told Jake to butt me. He gave me that look again, like I was from the moon. I'll bet he wanted to see if I'd cough.

I didn't.

He drank Canadian whiskey. For me, he ordered what they call a "cocktail". That's a brand-new way of making hooch more pleasing to ladies. The drinks I had were flavored with peaches!

Jake asked me all the usual questions. The booze loosened me up.

At one point, after we were both pretty drunk, he pointed out an older man and told me, "That's the Chief of Police."

I was pretty shocked by that. I asked what the police chief was doing in an illegal establishment. Jake told me that Al buys off police and judges. Even the mayor had a hand in his pocket.

Jake asked me to go back to his place with him. I knew what he wanted. I'm no dumb Dora. But I honestly wanted it too. That cocktail unlayered my lust.

Just as we were getting ready to leave the speakeasy, that's when Al showed up. Al— I didn't mention earlier— that's Mr. Capone.

Don't believe everything you read about him in the papers!

Everyone knows he's the Big Cheese here in Chicago. He's so ritzy! He was smoking a fat cigar, dressed in a tailored suit that put even Jake's to shame. He's a fat man. He carries himself like a boxer. Like a king really. He had huge golden rings on both his hands. I think his gold tie clasp was studded with diamonds.

He had three women in tow, all of them wearing heavy makeup. I don't know if they were prostitutes or not!

You know how it is these days. It used to be that only prostitutes wore makeup, but all that has changed because of the motion pictures.

To tell the truth, I'm embarrassed to admit, but I was wearing lipstick that night. It always makes me feel so naughty.

As soon as Al hit the scene, everyone in the bar started applauding. A few people cheered. Even the Chief of Police stood up and clapped.

We ended up staying for another drink. I asked if there was a lady's room. Jake showed me where it was. I was totally ossified.

When I stabilized myself a little, I came back out and saw Jake talking to Al. There was entirely too much going on to hear what they were saying. But Mr. Capone looked dead serious. And Jake had his head bowed, like he was showing deference.

Then Jake nodded. And then he saw me.

That's when we left. As we headed for the stairs I took one last look back at Mr. Capone. Jake didn't see what happened. Al was looking right at me! Staring at me! And as soon as our gazes locked, he winked at me!

It was creepy! They say he's married. Certainly, he's a longue lizard. But there was something about the way he leered at me that was really unsettling.

I think my entire body wobbled, like I had been socked! Al just laughed when he saw how I reacted to his wink.

Who does that? Does all his power & prestige make him think he's irresistible? Because I could certainly resist him! My sugar daddy is way handsomer than he is! Hahaha!

After that leer from Al, I was in a hurry to get out of there.

When we get back to Jake's house, it definitely was no mansion, but it was lavishly decorated. He gave me a ' grand tour of the place,' saving his master bedroom for last.

There were three standing mirrors surrounding his bed!

I guess I'm not the only one who likes seeing him in the all-together! Hahaha!

I was so drunk. Don't judge, please!!! I wanted to excite Jake, but I also wanted to make certain he didn't think I was a pushover.

I started singing 'I Ain't Taking Orders from No One.' You know the song I'm talking about, the Sophie Tucker tune?

I started dancing, singing boisterously, a cappella, hitting all the right notes. And after singing about how "I do what I choose, whenever I choose," I spontaneously started taking off my clothes.

I wanted him to see my chassis!

I see you frowning all the way from here. Don't judge!

I fully intended to stop when was only down to my undergarments. But after I sang "I ain't taking orders from no one" for the last time, he held out his hand, smiled his bedazzling smile and commanded, "I order you to come to bed with me!"

I said, "Sure thing! That's an order I'll take!"

Hahahahaha!!!

I'm such a bad girl. What can I say?

All you need to know about what happened next is: Jake and I decided we want to spend a whole lot more time together.

Since then, we've been to more boxing matches. We go to all the new movies. We've gone to dog races. And horse races. He took me to the Blackhawk, one of the poshest restaurants in town. The prime rib there is so delicious!

He's a wonderful dancer.

Jake made me quit my job— not that it took much persuading.

He bought me Coca Channel! All of it! The suit, the purse, the costume jewelry, the hat, oh my God, the ring! He even bought me Channel No 5. It's the most heavenly perfume ever! I'll spritz this letter with it.

I've asked him how much all his gifts cost. He's either evasive or he outright refuses to tell me. "A dame doesn't need to know how much dough a man spends on her," he says. "If a gink helps his honey be a hotsy totsy, all she needs to know is how to show gratitude!"

Occasionally, he does ask me for a favor though. He has these fake books that look legitimate from the outside. But inside, there is a hollowed-out space where you can hide flasks of booze. Male cops, of course, aren't allowed to search female suspects. So broads can get away with stuff that men can't.

My cool-headed demeanor impresses him.

I know Jake is in love with me! I know it!

But my love for you is steadfast!

My life is mostly the cat's pajamas. Every day, it's a new adventure.

But I still think about you, Beth. Constantly.

I understand why you had to go. I truly do. You are so dutiful and kind to take care of your grandparents out there on the farm. God knows I couldn't do it. It's bad enough that you have no electricity and need to huddle around fireplaces all winter. I could NOT deal with having no plumbing. Outhouses are disgusting.

And those clothes you're made you wear? Corsets and bustles?

Are they even aware that this is the 2oth Century?

I'll bet not a single woman down there voted in the last election, did they? Did you vote? Our matriarchs fought for suffrage for a hundred years. Women who don't exercise that privilege are stepping on the toes of history.

You can bet I'll vote in every election! Women are equal to men!

But we've already discussed this, I'm aware.

I don't know what I'm going to do! What am I supposed to do?

I'm not going to lie. I'm pretty sure Jake isn't totally on the up & up! But I'm not the slightest bit intimidated by him. I know who I am. I'm unique. I know what I'm worth. I'm brave.

I had to be.

The Great War took both my brothers. Your dad died during the Meuse-Argonne Offensive.

Then that hideous Spanish Flu took so many more of our loved ones, including Emma, & Charlie & your mother. It took everyone I had left, except for you!

Life is fleeting. People die pointlessly. That's how it is in the 20th Century! Mechanized madness. There is so much beyond our control!

But we can't wallow in the futility of being human.

Fun! Pleasure!!! That's what we need to focus on now! Maybe we can turn everything around just by doing that! Isn't it because men take things too seriously that they end up marching off to war?

You & I were both totally bereaved when we did what we did. Why do those nights still trouble you so?!! All that shame, guilt, embarrassment, tears— why?

Why is any form of affection wrong in the eyes of the Lord?

It was God who brought you & I together! And He determines who we find attractive!

Everything happens for a reason. Isn't that what you always say?

So why can't you accept the reason for that night was to strengthen the bond between you & I?

I'm sorry this letter is so long. I have extra time on my hands today. Jake said he was going to surprise me for Valentine's Day. I thought maybe we were going to New York to see some jazz bands there. He even made it seem like we might go to New Orleans! But then, just yesterday— last minute like always, he canceled our plans. He's going to be busy on Valentine's Day.

I really wonder if he's going to Florida. I overheard Al is going to Florida this weekend.

I'm not happy. But ultimately, it doesn't matter. Yes, I'm enthralled by my Sheik, and he makes me feel like a Sheba. But you will always be my true heartthrob.

Do you have plans for Valentine's Day? Do you have a beau yet? Or can you even look for a man out there in the cornfields?

I wish you'd come home to Chicago. I miss you. I might even be able to regularly send money there so you can hire someone to take care of your grandparents.

Write me back, please!!!

I love you with all my heart, mind, & soul

Always,

Rosalie

*by ⌁⌁

________________Bolt⚡