A PLACE AMONG GIANTS - Chapter 1: Welcome to Chicago

Emily E. Finke
Nov 20, 2021
7 min read

Since the unexpected halt that occurred outside the city, the railroad had made arrangements for the passengers to be transported the few miles to Chicago. Lucy grew curious as they passed a line of empty trains leading into the city. She wasn’t in the habit of eavesdropping, but her fellow passengers were without discretion, and Lucy found their conversations most amusing. The general consensus of rumors among them seemed to be that there was a strike on the railroad, though none of them had seen anything to confirm such suspicions. A strange girl sitting next to Lucy once leaned in and remarked to her that she didn’t abide by any such rumors and that she knew the truth of the matter. The impertinent girl needed no prompting from Lucy to continue. Before long, Lucy had learned that her traveling companion’s name was Matilda; she was sixteen and running away from home; and her mother had warned her that steam engines were really powered by some strange devil worship, and God would soon send His judgement to put a stop to them.

Soon the passengers were left at the station to determine new travel arrangements. The most important thing on Lucy’s mind was to get to New York. Delays were of little concern to her so long as she was still on a trajectory that eventually got her to her journey’s end. But what to do in a situation such as this? What if there was no train to New York in the next day or even week? Lucy was mulling through all these things in her mind, trying to make her way to the ticket window, when she collided with something and nearly fell over.

“Dear me…” Lucy huffed as she looked up to see that she had not bumped into something but someone. “Oh!” she gasped, “I beg your pardon, sir.” But the gentleman in question seemed unfazed by the incident and continued across the platform without missing a step.

Lucy was too distracted with her own problems to give the matter a second thought, but as she found her place in line at the ticket window, a small hand grabbed her arm and a familiar voice loudly whispered in her ear, “You lucky goose! Of all the gents to run into… you pract’ly fell in his arms! Boy, you sure know how to pick ‘em!”

Without even turning her head, Lucy raised an eyebrow, partly out of disgust and partly out of amusement. There was something about Matilda’s immature independence that intrigued Lucy.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lucy replied drolly. “I didn’t pick anybody, and if you’re referring to the most insignificant incident that just occurred with the gentleman, I barely brushed him let alone fell into his arms.”

Matilda pulled Lucy close to her and asked in a most serious tone, “You’re not joking, are you?” She lowered her whisper as if conveying a secret. “Don’t’cha know who that was?”

“No joke,” Lucy whispered in return. “Who was it?”

Losing her composure, Matilda shouted, “Goodness, honey, it’s Mr. DeVoss!”

Lucy spun around and grabbed Matilda, shushing her. If there was one thing Lucy abhorred it was anything that drew attention to herself. She quickly glanced around to assure that no one was staring at them before she locked eyes with Matilda and whispered contemptuously, “Who on earth is Mr. DeVoss?”

Shocked by Lucy’s incompetence, Matilda dramatically conveyed to Lucy the life history of Mr. Evander DeVoss. According to Matilda’s story, Mr. DeVoss was the richest man in the country (though that seemed a bit far-fetched to Lucy) and also the country’s most elegible bachelor. Matilda was quite the authority on Evander DeVoss including many details of his personal life. Lucy almost laughed at the speculations and rumors that Matilda shared of Mr. DeVoss’s supposed romantic flings: from actresses to princesses to pretty much everything in-between.

“Ahh…” Matilda sighed, “you fell in the arms of fate! When again you meet…”

“That seems most unlikely,” Lucy said bluntly, interrupting Matilda’s impetuous poetry, “since he lives in Chicago, and I am going to New York.”

Lucy turned around, leaving Matilda lost in a dream world. Much to the contrast of Matilda, Lucy did not hold so much gravity in the ideas of wealth, romance, and power. To Lucy, those things were better left to novels and idealistic dreamers. Lucy’s grandmother had spent a copious amount of time training Lucy in practicality and control of her thoughts and emotions. Perhaps it was Matilda’s flair for storytelling, but Lucy had to admit that something about Mr. Evander DeVoss had piqued her curiosity. In the briefest moment, Lucy felt her control start to slip.

Lucy’s mind was still processing everything Matilda had told her when the ticket clerk shouted, “Next!”

Lucy gave a little jump, startled by the clerk’s unnecessary outburst, and felt the color rise in her cheeks as she realized how distracted she had become. She took a deep breath in an effort to regain her composure and proceeded to the ticket window. She paused a moment, looking at the clerk as if waiting for an apology, before she said in a gently condescending voice, “Really… there was no need to yell.”

“Alright, I’m sorry,” the clerk replied disingenuously. “Now what can I do for you?”

“I came in on train number forty-five, the one that stopped a couple of miles away. The conductor said we may exchange our current tickets for new tickets to use at a later time, so I would like a ticket to New York on the first available train,” Lucy said, taking the old ticket from her purse and laying it on the counter.

“No exchanges,” the clerk said abruptly.

Confused, Lucy asked, “What do you mean, ‘No exchanges’?”

“Just what I said, ‘No exchanges’. There’s no trains leaving to give you an exchange of. All I can give is a refund.”

“Why aren’t there any trains leaving?” Lucy was growing concerned. “Look, lady, I’m just a clerk. Nobody tells me anything. All I know is there’s no scheduled trains, and I don’t know when there will be. Now, do you want the refund or not?”

Lucy thought for a moment then replied, “Yes, I’ll take the refund. Thank you.”

As Lucy walked away from the counter, she tried to convince herself that everything would work out for the best, but she couldn’t help feel somewhat disappointed. New York seemed as far away as the moon, and she so desperately wished that she could fly. But no use driveling over impossible things. The question now became how to get from Chicago to New York if not by train. And how would she do it on what little money she had left.

She needed to get away from the crowd and find someplace where she could think and determine a course of action. She had just reached the edge of the platform and was about to descend the steps when a gloved hand was shoved in front of her. Lucy looked up in surprise.

“I must apologize for running into you a moment ago. Please forgive my rudeness. I hope you were not hurt.”

She looked down again at the outstretched hand before reluctantly accepting and descending from the platform. Her response came more coldly than she intended, “I’m perfectly fine, thank you. And no apology is necessary. It was entirely my fault.”

Upon reaching the ground, Lucy at last looked up into the face that accompanied the hand that she held. She had expected to find the face of an old man, but, to her surprise, she found the features to be soft and slim though they were hidden behind a fair amount of ginger colored hair. Her eyes met with the bluest eyes she had ever seen. The eyes were kind but sad, and there were fine wrinkles around them, an indication of the joy and laughter once expressed by them. Lucy could see no joy at present, though, as the brow and lips presented themselves in a most serious position. Lucy could only assume such features were the result of an arduous life, and she at once felt very sorry for him.

Lucy was still holding the gloved hand as she took in all these things that Matilda had somehow managed to omit from her narrative when the smooth but lifeless baritone voice once again spoke, “My name is Evander DeVoss.” “How do you do, Mr. DeVoss,” Lucy replied. Hearing the name brought back everything Matilda had told her. “Thank you,” she said, retrieving her hand.

Lucy gave a little nod and took a step away when the voice continued, “May I offer you a ride somewhere?” Lucy was growing embarrassed with the attention, especially from the likes of Mr. DeVoss. She turned back around and noticed the large automobile behind Mr. DeVoss. How she missed it before, she wasn’t sure. Behind the steering wheel sat a small man dressed in black. Lucy thought Mr. DeVoss made quite the scene standing in front of the luxurious machine in his pin-striped suit and long overcoat. The silver tipped, embossed handle cane and homburg were the finishing touches needed to make the scene look like something straight out of a magazine.

Lucy replied promptly, “No. Thank you.”

She had just turned again to walk away when she was stopped by a hand on her arm. “Would you at least join me for lunch, then? I would very much like to make up for my inexcusable behavior towards you,” Mr. DeVoss said in the same cold tone.

The answer should have come quickly, but Lucy felt a strange sort of pity for Mr. DeVoss. He seemed to be quite genuine in his attempt to rectify the situation he assumed he had caused. Lucy found herself in a struggle: to accept would be to put herself in the company of a man whose reputation was questionable at best, but to refuse would be rude and inconsiderate toward his attempt of atonement. Surely his cold manner could be no such attempt at flattery. “That would be lovely. Thank you,” she responded.

As Mr. DeVoss helped her into the back-seat of the automobile, he asked her in the same cold tone as before, “Would you be so kind as to tell me your name?” “Lucy,” she replied.

“Is this your first time in Chicago, Lucy?”

“Yes, it is.” “Well, then, welcome to Chicago.”

Read more in this series

Previous: Prologue

Coming Soon: Chapter 2