Altered Myths

In the Autumn of 1932, the New York Yankees had just won the World Series against the Chicago Cubs. Massive dust storms were sweeping over the Great Plains, displacing millions of people and decimating agricultural production. Across the country, 9,000 banks had failed and one in four people were out of work. The deteriorating economy had stalled the new housing market, and the Pentecost Lumber Company, in the small hamlet of Cape Vincent, was forced to close operations. The ten loyal employees at Pentecost arrive for work one early September morning to find the doors bolted and locked, the mill dark and deserted. A small sign is nailed to the door that reads: PERMANENTLY CLOSED. Among the newly unemployed is Daniel Weaver, a family man with a wife and two young sons at home.

October 22, 1932

The bartender Henry sets another drink in front of Daniel and leans forward. The two men had grown up together in this same small town, even graduated school in the same year, and maybe this is why Henry chooses to lower his voice, his next words soft enough to escape the earshot of others at the bar.

“Listen Daniel, this has to be the last one until you settle your tab. I’ve let it go a lot longer than I should have, and as it is, it’ll take most of your next check to pay it off.”

Daniel nods and asks, “So you’re cutting me off?I’ve had a tab here for more than ten years. Have I ever failed to pay it?”

“No,” Henry answers, “but it’s never been this big either. Look, just pay some of it and we’ll work out a payment plan or something for the rest.”

Daniel looks at Henry for a long second and then downs his whiskey in a single gulp. “Thanks, but I don’t need a payment plan. I’ll settle in full when I come in tomorrow,” Daniel says, and then he stands, taking a few seconds to steady himself on his feet and walks out.

The heat from the whiskey provides at least a bit of comfort in the cold night air. There’s nothing else to do now but head home to the masquerade he’s been living during the three weeks since he lost his job. Daniel hasn’t been able to bring himself to tell the truth to his wife Claire, and he hopes he won’t have to, not until something else comes up. He’s resourceful and able-bodied, strong as an ox and still in his 30’s; something has to break sooner or later. On faith, he’s been dressing and leaving the house at the same time every morning, as if he were going to work, as if nothing has changed.He spends the day making the rounds to any businesses he can walk to, one day making the trek all the way to Clayton to apply for work at the shipyard there, but so far, all his efforts have come up empty.

The following morning, as Daniel stands from the breakfast table and heads toward the door, Claire calls after him, “Wait, Daniel! I need some cash for the grocery. Did you go to the bank yesterday?”

“No, I . . . I worked late and the bank was closed when I headed home. I’ll go today.”

Claire shakes her head. “What do you expect me to do? You just ate the last two eggs for breakfast and the boys do have to eat.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Daniel answers. “I’ll pick some things up on the way home.”

It feels a relief to close the door behind him and walk out into the morning air. He has to think of something. Before long, the cruel winds of winter will threaten the meager possibilities he has.And now, he has foolishly suggested to Claire that there is a paycheck to cash, that he would somehow have money to buy food for dinner. Just like last night’s promise that he’ll settle the unpaid tab at RInaldi’s. Each new day comes with its own fresh reminder that he is running out of options.

The morning and afternoon comes and goes without promise. Daniel wanders across the street and into the train station where he settles on an unoccupied bench. He would never have eaten the last two eggs if he realized there were no more. The thing is that Claire apparently trusts him. She has no idea that he doesn’t know where their next dollar is going to come from. Sitting at the breakfast table that morning, he was feeling hopeful. He was thinking that it was too soon to start feeling desperate, but now, just a few hours later, that’s exactly what he feels. His credit has been tapped at both Rinaldi’s and the market. A few weeks earlier, he would have settled both bills in full, but that was before everything changed. Now, it’s too late.

The station master announces the incoming train from Watertown, and Daniel half considers the escape of simply climbing aboard, though without the cost of the fare, he would probably just get thrown off at the first stop.

The loss of a few paychecks has turned Daniel into the hapless bum his mother-in-law always thought he was, or at least that’s how he feels. The worst part is that she seems like the only place he might be able to turn for help. But even as he thinks this, he doubts she would be willing. More likely, she would turn him out and then rush over to his house to convince Claire that she and the boys would be better off without him. Maybe his mother-in-law is right about him after all . . . Claire traded a warm and comfortable home with its well-stocked pantry and a father who provided well for his family, for her current life with him; for a life where bills mount and jobs vanish. Even after Claire’s father died, her mother’s life as a widow was comfortable enough so that, a few months ago, she surprised his oldest son with his first bike. And yes, Daniel was appreciative, but he also felt that it had robbed him of a milestone he wanted to be part of, rather than a silent observer from the sidelines of his own family. He had been putting aside a little each week to do what his mother-in-law had easily and without discussion accomplished. And now, instead of a nice warm meal on the table, they had nothing but a shiny new bike leaning against the side porch.

The slanting rays of the October sun illuminate the station windows, and Daniel stands and walks back outside. He looks longingly across the street at Rinaldi’s. Maybe they would front him one more whiskey; he knows the bartender after all. They haven’t been close friends, but he always seemed like a reasonable guy.Daniel needs to clear his head, he reasons, to figure out which way to turn. He wagers that things might look a little brighter after the comfort of a stiff drink, and with that thought, he steps down off the curb and crosses the street. But as he reaches the door of Rinaldi’s, something causes him to pause for a long moment and look west across the wide expanse of the St. Lawrence River.Though there are no rainclouds in sight, a column of brilliant color is rising up in the sky from the far side of the river.

Like all rainbows, it brings with it the expectation of a fleeting vision, an apparition that materializes across the drama of a changing sky and then vanishes as quickly as it appears, leaving the onlooker longing for a few more moments. But this appearance is different. It hasn’t heralded a triumphant sunray breaking through a sudden shower. Instead it rises into the sky from the far bank of the river, a pillar of translucent color that refuses to surrender its brilliance to the tumultuous sky that surrounds it until it’s finally seen and acknowledged.

Daniel stands outside the door of Rinaldi’s watching for a very long time, waiting for the rainbow to fade and vanish as rainbows always do, but this doesn’t happen. Instead, it stands resolute and unchanging, bringing to Daniel’s mind something buried deep in his memory.

When he was a child, almost everyone in his school, including Daniel and his best friend Davey, were dismissed early on Friday afternoons to attend Bible classes at their church. The pastor had given each of them a book where they could place stickers on each page to illustrate whatever Bible story they were learning about that week. Daniel had been especially captivated by the story of Noah and flood. His young mind could barely imagine the ark with all those animals, but it was that very first rainbow that filled the sky that had captured his young imagination. It was a sign then, but it was also declared as a sign forever. What did the sign mean? What did its appearance portend? Daniel could no longer remember exactly what the rainbow’s promise was, but it had to be something about hope and rescue, and hope and rescue were exactly what Daniel needed. Looking back into the window of Rinaldi’s and where that path might lead, Daniel hesitates, and then turns and takes that first step up the road on a different path.