The hallway clock chimed noon. It was a tall grandfather clock that had chimed for the past 40 years down the narrow corridor.
The children at the Childrens Home on Knoxville Avenue in Peoria were lined up and ready for their meals. Today it would be a vegetable soup and gingerbread for dessert, milk, of course, and a banana.
Alfred grew up here. His five brothers and sisters did too, so there was some semblance of a family life. His father had been killed in a Fulton Street brawl, drunk and broke. His mother could not cope with his death and six children to raise so she took them all to the Childrens Home and said her goodbyes. The children would never see her again.
Alfred had an engaging personality and could charm the socks off the nuns. As a result, he learned early how to manipulate and to lie. That meant that he usually got his way. The nuns would give him a bigger piece of dessert cake or an extra portion of chicken.
He attended St. Cecilia’s School and for that Christmas had spent his $8.75 cents savings on a glass bowl for his teacher. He loved her. She loved him. Alfred had a certain intelligence and he liked math and science. He decided that he wanted to be an engineer when he grew up so he could build buildings and bridges.
A Childrens Home benefactor donated the money necessary to send him to Illinois State University in Normal. He excelled and his studies seemed easy to him. Alfred made no friends and he trusted no one. Ever.
He had survived to that point without friendship and would choose to do so all of his life. However, he observed others and he learned. The big men on campus wore dress slacks and button down shirts, many times with a tie. He copied their language and used the same phrases they did. He watched their habits and he learned.
After graduation he lived in a small apartment on Beldon Avenue in Chicago as he was employed there as an engineer for the ensuing 10 years. He used public transportation because he had no need for a car or even a telephone. Who would he call?
Alfred seldom felt lonely because he had no need for companionship, or even to desire a woman. After his Chicago job he wandered about the country living a nomadic life. From Houston to Sante Fe to Seattle and back to Chicago.
Each new city meant new adventures, new entertainments, and new sights. He had little tolerance for others and their habits which in a short time would annoy him. The clerk who talked non-stop or the manager who used poor English skills, or the bus driver who cussed or the salesman who was loud and brusque. No, to be free throughout life was simply easier and less complicated and he liked to travel solo.
By the age of 55, Alfred had accumulated a large nest egg and decided to retire. He liked playing the ponies at $2 a bet. He brought a camera and enjoyed taking photos of the city. He visited the city libraries where he liked to read the daily newspapers. He enjoyed crossword puzzles. He drank scotch on the rocks. He would swim weekly at the local YMCA pool.
Alfred continued to wear his best clothes, never jeans, which he thought were for peasants. In actual fact, he did not own a pair of jeans. He liked the Summer straw hats and was never without one when he left his apartment. Alfred, a solitary soul, actually was content with the life he had led. As an introvert, he enjoyed the quiet and the peace that came with living by himself. There were no compromises. No angry voices. Just himself and his quiet peace.
Who is to say if one kind of living is better than another? Who can say that marriage is for everyone? How many members of a dysfunctional family wish for peace and quiet and to live away from their neurotic family members?
Alfred left his entire estate to the Peoria Childrens Home where he had grown up. He passed this life, alone, just as he wanted, August 18, 1963. His ashes were thrown into the Illinois River just above Grand View Drive in Peoria. At age 86 his soul had been consigned to eternity.