Two
George Street
Xmas week has a full moon looking over us. At least
that's what I see tonight. Looking out my window, I'm waiting
for the big house on the corner,"Two George Street,'' to come
alive. My mother, Dorothy, has come here to dress and wait. The
invitation read six to eight. I never could wait for any party
to start. This year I'm not even smoking, so I too did a little
pacing waiting for the church chimes to belt out six big ones.
I told Mum to go first. I wanted to watch her ring the door bell
and go in. She maybe more than I had been brought up with class
consciousness, and this house must have been upper crust in it's
day. For when she was a young girl, she remembers these houses,
and I bet she fantasizes about what it was like to live, and of
course eat there. I can't remember being aware of this class thing
Thank God! The pain of having red hair and freckles was enough.
"Watch it now when you cross the street. There are no horse and
buggies out there now. There are cars, and they go fast. The rich
ain't got no rules, but they got class." We had some fun this
week thinking we might go up to Miss Baker's or this little shop
on South Main St and try on some of those fancy rhinestone dresses
I've seen in the windows. Yeah, we thought we would get all decked
out like in the old days. And to go along with the glitter, two
of the more seasoned members of The Aurora Club to escort us into
the big house on 2 George St. We were out of control with laughter
when we pictured the scene. Our two escorts looking up at that
huge staircase and giving us the elbow A............Ruthie A............Dottie
Alright.............
Dorothy crossed the street and rang the bell. I could see a small
person in red through the stained class who after more than one
ring opened the door. The big black door shut and Dorothy was
on her way to enjoy, like Cinderella, a most elegant evening.
Thirty minutes later, I made my entrance. Since I just had a feather
boa on I did not ring the bell , but grabbed that huge doorknob
and went in. By now there were many people gathering in the hallway.
To my left and down a few steps was the library. The fire was
as warm and cozy as the red walls that surrounded it. On a high,
round table sat champagne, fruit, and cheese that added even more
charm to the room. You could check your coat and get a ticket
too. No need, since the feathers from my boa thought my mouth
was the coat room. I went directly up the stairs where our host
stood greeting his guests. Shaking my boa at him we exchanged,
"Our Darlings". As I eyed what direction to take from the top
of the stairway, I saw to my left the two large living rooms that
face Benefit Street. The fireplaces in both rooms crackled in
harmony with the conversations while the tree that brushed the
great ceiling stood in its own splendor accepting the gifts that
were placed under her. The figures in the deep aqua and ochre
murals came alive before my eyes. The colors sharpened as if this
evening's gaiety restored them to their original color. Trays
of sweet-smelling hors' duerves passed before us when suddenly
I was seduced by the roast beef served in the dining room on my
right. At the foot of the long table, set up in a little nook
on the George Street side, was the bar. For those who didn't partake,
hot cider was but an arm's length away. The sounds of the flute
and the harp ensemble filled all these rooms. Sprinkled about
were many faces; friends of Bill W. that I not only knew, but
had gone through a few years of life with. The Governor's car
was parked out in front. Somewhere in the crowd were famous bankers,
a well-known English writer from Newport, Maureen the Colonel,
the host's father, and two of my own children looking grand and
young enough to be impressed by all this grandeur. We were just
a splendid looking bunch having a great time. This is just a short
synopsis of what I observed. But if you really want to know more,
ask Dorothy who I'm sure, like Dickens, saw everything through
sugarplum eyes.
Copyright; Ruth Mahoney 22-Dec-89
