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Chelsea Fuller
Ms.Nellie

Creak…

Click

The young man closed the door to his tiny apartment in downtown Chicago where the traffic was never quiet and the view was cluttered with buildings, lights, and mass. If one hadn't known any better, they'd call Chicago 'New York's troublesome little brother'. Even the sun didn’t seem to want to come out to greet him in the mornings. With one look around the small, decrepit living space, he sighed, dropping his keys in the jar and sluggishly walking to his room. The peeling paint and leaky roof didn’t seem to bother him, or perhaps he was used to it.

Shuffling through the door to his room, he plopped into his creaky swivel chair, lazily slouching back at his desk with his black leather portfolio case in his hands. His hands tensed on his possession, then relaxed with an exhale, a small tress of short curly hair fell into his face. Tired hazel eyes went to the case as it was lifted. He read his name on it: “Maximillion Pryce”. With another heavy sigh, he popped the case open, pulling out a thin sheet of paper, staring upon it with disdain. Yet another design had been rejected, the sixth one this week. Without another second of remorse for his failure, the paper’s fate was to be balled in his hands and tossed to the basket where it bounced off the fragile, yet messy pile of other discarded and rejected ideas.

The case was discarded to the floor and he leaned forward, his fingers intertwined and his chin resting on the fixture. Two months worth of rent was due yesterday, the fridge was empty, and the AC was scarce. Nothing about his life in its current form calmed him…there was nothing to comfort him; Nothing but his gray, dull apartment, himself, and his failures. No matter how hard the try, the rejection was harder. Even with the glaring monster of defeat staring at him, he picked up his pencil and began to draw as music began to seep through the walls.

Draw for the monster, fail for the monster.

Being a toy designer in Chicago was a lot harder than he expected. He remembered the days where he was a shining, happy, bold youth, fearlessly stepping into the office for the first time. Maximillion then realized that he was drawing nothing but circles. The music had culminated from its soft, barely audible sound to a blaring mess of a ragtime melody. This time, his sigh was more of an annoyed groan as he tried to block out the music. EVERY DAY. EVERY STUPID DAY. Did that old lady next door not know the meaning of peace and QUIET?!

He groaned, though, and did nothing about it, going on about his work, grumbling about the loudness of the music as he hunched over he drawing board... A really productive night was ahead of him, for sure.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, Maxillimon left his quarters, fixing his tie with his portfolio in his hand. He stopped in his tracks, looking ahead as an old, short, stubby woman stood on the walkway, looking out to the busy life of Chicago. He was surprised at her sudden appearance, yet continued on like it was normal.

“Mo’nin’, Maxie! “ He continued on past her stepping off the one single step to go to his car. “Good morning Ms.Nellie…And my name is Maximillion….Not Maxie.” He corrected her for maybe the thousandth time in all of the four years he had known her. He didn’t know her last name, since she had insisted that he call her Nellie on many occasions. “Ya’ know, Maxie-“Jesus, he wished she’d call him by his name.” It’s good to see young people nowadays working hard for what they want.” She nodded as he walked. At some point, he could tell she was following him to his car.” That bum son o’ mine needs a little lesson from youngins like you.” She nodded again and Max continued to wonder why she liked to talk about her family problems to him.

He reached his car, digging in his pockets for his keys. “I’m proud o’ ya Maxie. “ He hadn’t as much as looked up to her, pulling out his keys and opening his door. If you really were proud, you’d stop having wild parties so I could work... he sighed.” Thank you, Ms.Nellie.” He replied, lazily, not caring one way or another. The woman watched him with softened, solemn eyes…Eyes of knowing. She then closed them as his car door closed, and he accidentally dropped his keys on the floor.” Dammit.” He cursed under his breath as the woman stalked up to the car door.” Welp, Maxie-Boy. Have a good day at work.”

As soon as he retrieved his keys and rose up, she stuck an envelope into the window of the car, causing him to stare at the object. ”Uh-huh…” He took the envelope and turned it this way and that before his eyes settled on the name that was written on it.

’ To: Maxie-Boy’

******** Dammit…

He sat the gift down in the passenger’s seat and began to pull out. Nellie had returned to the sidewalk, watching him with her hands behind her back before moving to wave to him. As he drove off, he didn’t wave back.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Today’s work provided the same results. His latest work was rejected and the company board was beginning to wonder if they should keep him. The promise he showed wasn’t coming through. He pulled up to the apartments, turning the car off. He began to exit, then looking to the envelope in the other chair…With another thought; he picked it up and began to head home. Something was different about today. There was no loud music….and Nellie’s windows were dark…. And there was a tall, bony man standing in front of the entrance, wearing patchwork clothing and looking as if he were a true bum.
Max spared him from a second glance, walking to go past him. ”H-Hey! Wait a minute! A-Are ya Maxie?” he asked, causing the other to stop and look to the older man, having a closer look. As soon as the other realized he had the right guy, he took off his caddy hat, revealing thick, brown hair gathered around his head with baldness in the center like a bird’s nest. His face was short but he had a long nose, and small, sad eyes.” M-M’mother talked about you all the time. ‘Said you were a true man. A real hard worker, ya’ know? She was real proud of ya’, unlike me. A-Anyway, she wanted you to have this.” He went to pick up a case that was rest against a wall to hand to Maximillion. The poor young man was having trouble registering.” E-Excuse me? Who are you?” The older man pulled the case back into his bubble, looking blank. ”O-Oh! I’m Ronald…Ronald Derange…Nellie’s son…Nellie Derange.” He could tell Maxi was confused as his eyes widened at the name. Nellie Derange was his and his mother’s favorite ragtime singer when he was growing up…But…if that was his mother…then…The older man frowned and held out the case to Max.” She wanted ya to have ’em…she was scared I’d sell them off…it was her dying wish that you’d get them.”

His heart sank as he accepted yet another gift from Nellie. This whole time…that old woman, the one that planned music all the time….the one the saw him off to work every morning, and brought him food when his refrigerator was bare…all this time…it was his favorite idol. The older man, Ronald, looked to Max as he looked down, put his hat back one. ”Well I’ll be going…” And he left, never to be seen again by Max. Max looked down and thought…about nothing really. What was there to think about? About how he had been a jerk to her these past four years? He returned to his apartment, sitting in his chair with the case in his lap…At first he was reluctant….Whatever was in here, he didn’t deserve, but he willed himself…”Oh…my god…” Inside, Nellie had packed and cased all of her albums, records, for him…Dumbfounded it took him a moment to remember the thing from this morning. He quickly took it and tore it open, revealing the card.

‘To: Maximillion Pryce’

How did she know his name?

‘Make all of your dreams come true. I know you can do it.’

Max couldn’t believe it…Inside was a check for ten thousand dollars! This woman….the one he had blown off for…for four years… There was no amount for words to explain the guilt he felt. The silence around him was depressing. ”Ms. Nellie…” He looked to the records, realizing that he didn’t even have record player to play them on. He looked down to his lap, sadly…

Maybe…


Maybe!

And suddenly, a spark lit up in him, he set the case down on the floor, grabbed a pencil and began to draw.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maximillion finished moving into his new apartment, unpacking the last box. It was small, but it was homey, and a lot cheaper than his last. With the last box unpacked he moved into his living room, looking to his unopened purchase of the evening. With eagerness in his hands, he opened the box, smiling to his new record player as he set it on the small table by his shelf of records and collection of his new line of toys.

“Hmm.” He looked upon his choices of music, pulling out Nellie’s first album and setting the record on the machine. Once the needle was set, he sat in his armchair and lounged to the ragtime tune of his favorite idol and the person that believed in him with a pleased smile. Life was good.” Thank you Ms.Nellie…”