Wanted Young Man With Red Hair

Into the most mundane of lives can come unexpected adventures, offering no clue as to how they will play out. Consider the case of young Adam Wylie. On that warm May afternoon in 1887, he rested, at peace with the world, on the front porch of his Aunt Sophie's farmhouse where he had lived most of his life.

A cabriolet, with a plume of dust trailing behind, appeared in the distance and approached the house. Adam could see that it was drawn by a bay horse and was carrying two men. Must be drummers, he thought idly. But they were coming not to offer goods; rather, the most remarkable experience of his life.

The carriage pulled into a space beside Aunt Sophie's white picket fence. The two men got out, opened the gate, and came up the flagstone walkway. His aunt's black terrier barked furiously at the intruders from the safety of the porch.

The man in the lead, who sported a white handlebar moustache, removed a derby hat. In a no-nonsense voice he said, "Do I have the pleasure of addressing Mr. Adam Wylie?"

"That's me. Come up and have a seat."

The two men mounted the porch, the older one saying, "My card, sir." As he handed the young man his card, he went on, "I am William Davis, Attorney at Law over in Bardstown. This is Mr. George Kenton, a photographer and my assistant for today."

Adam rose and shook hands with each, saying, "Pleased t' meet you fellows." Aunt Sophie appeared at the front door, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Both men gave her a polite bow as she came onto the porch. Adam then introduced them to the woman.

Aunt Sophie was in her mid forties, her rich mane of russet hair tinged with gray. She gave each man a nod, saying, "Well now, what in the world brings you gents out this a' way?"

Davis took a seat in a cane chair, saying, "Our business is with Mr. Wylie here. I have been retained by a client who is looking for a young man, unmarried, with red hair. To use the specific terms in the request, bright red hair, preferably curly, with a light spray of freckles as well."

"My secretary Gleason saw Mr. Wylie, who of course fits that description, in Bardstown several days ago. He made inquiries, learned where you live, and suggested we contact you."

"Red hair?" said Aunt Sophie. "Why is your client lookin' for a red-headed fellow?"

"I have no earthly idea. I am only instructed to obtain personal data on a young man who matches that description, and to provide photographs. If you are agreeable, Mr. Wylie, I will pay you a half-eagle for a short interview and a few photographs. Fair enough?"

"Well, sure," said the young man. Five dollars was two days wages for a laborer; it seemed the best of luck to earn that amount in far less time. He could not have known to what it would lead.

Mr. Davis withdrew a notepad from his briefcase, took out a pen, and then put on a pair of bifocals, saying, "Let us begin." He looked at the young man. "Well, sir, you do have a fine head of red hair. Hmm, hazel eyes, I would say, about six feet tall." He scribbled in the notepad, then continued. "Are you sound of health? No debilitating diseases?"

"Reckon not. Able to put out two acres of good Kentucky burley tobacco down yonder." The visitors glanced down to a field near a creek. Emerald green tobacco, knee-high at this time of year, gleamed in the sunlight.

Turning to Aunt Sophie, the older man went on, "He doesn't appear slow-witted. Does he have a quick mind? And what of his education?"

"Oh, he's smart in what counts. He quit school as soon as he could do farm work. Let's see, how far did you get, Adam?"

"Sixth grade."

"But he can read and write, and studies the Bible. Law, you should hear him recite the Psalms! Knows several by heart, don't you dear?"

"Yes Ma'm."

"So, you would say he has moral character? Doesn't engage in idle talk and gossip? Also, is he good-natured? Given to fits or violent displays of temper?"

"No, no, just a regular fellow. I tried to raise him good after his folks died in that awful cholera epidemic when he was a little tot. Say again, what's this all about? Who is your client?"

"My client desires to remain anonymous, madam. Now that I have information on the young man, perhaps we may take those photographs that were requested. Mr. Kenton has even purchased a new-fangled camera .. what did you call it, George?"

"A Lancaster Instantograph, sir," replied the younger man, pleased that he owned the latest in photographic technology.

A few moments later, Adam stood before the clapboard house, his straw hat beside him, as Mr. Kenton set up the bulky wooden camera on a tripod and took half a dozen exposures. The men shortly after returned to their cabriolet and departed. The young man and his aunt stood on the porch, watching as the carriage disappeared in the distance.

"Well now," declared Aunt Sophie, "if that don't beat the Dutch. What on earth do you reckon they were up to?"

Tossing his half-eagle into the air, Adam replied casually, "Can't imagine. All I know is I got some spendin' money out of it. I doubt we'll ever see 'em again."

Unaware that a chain of events had now been set into motion, the young man went on with his farm life routine. Three weeks later, Mr. Davis once again pulled up to the farmhouse just before noon, this time alone. After the perfunctory greetings and small talk, he settled into the cane chair and got down to business.

"Well, young Wylie," he began, "it seems you have piqued the interest of my client. That person desires you to travel to New York City. I am told that you may be there for up to a month or longer. Again, are you agreeable?"

"Heck no," Adam replied. "Not until I find out what this is all about. B'sides, I got a tobacco crop to tend, a Jersey cow to milk twice a day, and all my other chores. I can't leave Aunt Sophie a'tall."

"Your loyalty is commendable. However, I have already engaged one of your neighbors, a Levi Rayfield, to assist your aunt full time while you are gone. I have also purchased for you a one way ticket to New York on the New York Central Railroad. You will receive ten dollars for each day you are away from home. I am authorized to advance you the sum of $100 now. The remainder will be paid when you return."

Adam gazed in astonishment at the lawyer, who returned his look impassively. Finally the young man spoke in a low voice. "Look here, just what are you up to? I don't want no part of nothin' shady, hear? Now spill it, sir."

In an even tone the man replied, "I am giving you all the information that has been offered me. But I have corresponded with a colleague in New York who assures me that the lawyer handling the request on that end has an impeccable reputation." He gazed off into the distance, then went on, "I will tell you, Mr. Wylie, my impression. Namely, that your presence in New York is a matter of great interest to some very important people."

"I have the feeling that they are people who travel in the highest circles; whose lives are as different from yours and mine as that of royalty. I cannot imagine why they would be interested in a country bumpkin like you. Yet they are, and seem quite insistent that you heed their call. I strongly advise you to do so."

"Nope. I reckon I'll stay here where I belong."

"As you wish. May I leave the train ticket and this check with you for two days? Perhaps on further reflection you will change your mind. I will come back one last time on Thursday to retrieve what I have proffered. However, if you feel up to what just might be a most singular experience, I myself will carry you up to Louisville to begin your journey."

"Don't count on it. But mebbe I will think it over."

Adam did so. The ordinary train ticket soon took on a fascination. Up to now, the young man's universe had been a tobacco farm in a quiet corner of the world. New York City seemed a mythical place to him, scarcely more real than the fabled cities of Cibola. The little cardboard ticket proved that it truly existed. Someone there knew of him; awaited his arrival.

In every young man lies a restiveness; a desire to know what is over the horizon. Why do they want me to come to New York, he asked himself. Who are they? It was a refrain that would not leave his head.

With each passing hour the ticket beckoned to him. It promised a faraway adventure, one that would unfold if Adam had the audacity to take one step and then another. There was only one way to solve the mystery: to go to New York.

When Mr. Davis returned in his cabriolet two days later, Adam was waiting in his Sunday suit, a straw boater hat atop his head. He held a small traveling valise in his hand.

The lawyer gazed at him, a half smile on his lips. "I assume you will be using that rail ticket after all, Mr. Wylie. Say goodbye to your aunt and let us be off. It will take a while to reach the train station."

Adam affectionately kissed his aunt goodbye, who shed a few tears for good measure. He mounted the cabriolet beside the lawyer and was then rolling down the lane away from home. He glanced back at Aunt Sophie, who stood waving to them from the porch. What awaits me in New York? he wondered. What am I getting into?

*******

On a rainy morning two days later, Adam Wylie's Pullman car arrived at Grand Central Depot in Manhattan. Thoroughly bewildered by the mob of people and the cacophony of noise, he got off the train, valise in hand.

He remained on the platform, at a loss as to what to do. After a moment a man in a top hat approached and stood looking at him without saying anything. Then he shook his head, saying, "Remarkable. Quite amazing. You are surely Mr. Adam Wylie, of Bardstown, Kentucky."

"I am, sir. And you?" The man was well dressed in a dark overcoat, waterfall tie, and satin vest. He seemed late middle aged, with a trim moustache and dark hair just now turning white.

"Call me Norris. Please step this way."

Adam followed the man into the station. He drew Adam to an out-of-the way corner and began to speak. "We cannot have you looking the hayseed you are, Mr. Wylie. In this envelope is one hundred dollars cash. You will leave the station and go by hansom cab to the Algonquin Hotel, where you will take a room. Then go to Wilby's clothier nearby and request that he outfit you in proper gentleman's attire. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir. Aren't you comin' with me?"

"Certainly not. Now, heed what I say. Tonight you will dress in your new clothing and take a cab to Delmonico's restaurant, arriving promptly at eight. You will stand with the maitre d' for a moment making small talk, then request a table on the right side of the dining room. Take whatever repast you choose. When you have finished, return to your hotel and await further instructions. Are we clear?"

"No, I don't understand any of this! Who are you? What kind of game are you playin'?"

"A very serious game, sir!" Norris replied with some heat. "One that requires your strict obedience with no questions asked. Who I am is of no concern to you. If you cannot follow my orders to the letter, I advise you to get back on the train."

"Mebbe I just will!"

"Your choice, young man."

Adam, however, had come too far to back out now. Taking a deep breath, he took the envelope of money that Norris offered. The older man turned and quickly disappeared into the bustling crowd.

At eight that evening, Adam entered Delmonico's restaurant, slack-jawed in amazement at the plush surroundings; at the clientele bedecked in the latest fashions. Adam himself had been transformed. Beneath his outer gray frock coat could be seen a dark green waistcoat. For the first time in his life he was wearing a white shirt, with a high collar and a navy blue bow tie.

He removed his new top hat and gazed around the room. Upon the maitre d's polite, "Yes sir?" Adam murmured, "Not just yet, fellow."

After a few seconds, he indicated his table as Norris had instructed. Shortly afterward he read the menu, again astonished. Turning to the waiter, he said, "You serve terrapins? And charge folks two bucks fifty!"

"Quite, sir."

"I swear, nobody's goin' to believe this back home. Guess I'll have the passenger pigeon with peas for a dollar. Pretty steep if you ask me!"

"Any other vegetables, sir?" the waiter asked in an even voice.

Adam shook his head. "Twenty cents for new potatoes. I never! Bring me that too. Folks must have to be millionaires to eat here!"

"Yes sir. Some in fact are," the waiter replied.

Adam took his dinner alone. He waited in vain for someone to approach him or strike up a conversation. Although several young ladies cast admiring glances, no one came to his table. He returned to the Algonquin more perplexed than ever.

As he crossed the lobby, one of the desk clerks called out his name. Adam went to the man and was handed a telegram. Opening it, he read the message:

'At eleven thirty tonight take a hansom cab to 33 Willow Place in Brooklyn Heights Stop Walk up the alley to the servant's entrance Stop Knock twice and wait Stop. Norris'

With no small degree of apprehension, Adam did as ordered. After a long ride through the shadowy deserted streets of Manhattan, across the new Brooklyn Bridge, thence south to Brooklyn Heights, Adam arrived at his destination just before midnight. He paid the hansom cab driver and walked up a narrow lane beside 33 Willow. The house itself was dark and silent.

He rapped on the servant's door. At once Norris opened it and motioned for him to come in. "Follow me," he said curtly. The two men, guided only by light from a small lantern held by Norris, proceeded down a hallway, then upstairs to the next floor.

They entered a well-lit bathroom. Norris pointed to a claw-foot tub that was half filled with steaming water. "Undress and wash yourself thoroughly. Then put on the slippers, and the underdrawers and robe hanging behind the door. Knock on the door when you are ready."

Adam threw up his hands in frustration. "Norris, what the devil is going on? None of this makes a lick of sense! Whose idea is it? Are they plumb crazy!"

Norris gazed at him impassively. "I can only tell you, sir, that everything is going quite according to plan. Now, do as you have been told."

Fifteen minutes later Adam had bathed and was dressed in slippers and the elegant blue velvet robe. Upon his knock, Norris opened the door and looked him over, murmuring, "Good. Come with me."

Again with only the lamp for illumination, the two men proceeded to the top floor of the house. By now Adam was quite on edge from events that seemed to grow more bizarre with each turn. Yet where he was nervous, Norris was calm; where he was mystified, the older man was poised.

They stopped before a room halfway down the hall. Gesturing to it, Norris began to speak in a low voice. "Now listen carefully. When you enter this room, you will see that all curtains have been tightly drawn, and must remain so. A candle will be burning at the bedside. You will approach and allow the lady in the bed to look at you. She will then blow out the candle, and you will remove all clothing. Then of course enter the bed."

Adam was incredulous, unsure if he had heard correctly. "Get in bed? Why? What am I supposed to do?"

"You cannot guess?"

Adam gave him a puzzled look. Norris sighed in exasperation. "You are a healthy young man, are you not? And handsome enough. Surely you have enjoyed the feminine pleasures of a few comely young wenches back in Kentucky."

"You mean ..?"

"Of course, you ninny. What do you think I'm talking about?"

"Well, I ain't never done that. I've kissed and hugged some purty girls at dances, but if you're talkin' about what I think you are, then I ain't."

"Oh for heaven's sake!" the older man muttered in vexation. "A boy to do a man's job!"

With a wry chuckle, Norris said, "The one question no one thought to ask!" He shook his head, his white hair gleaming in the faint light from the lantern. "We will have to trust that your manly instincts will guide you, lad. If you cannot figure it out, you are an even bigger fool than you seem."

Norris paused, then said, "I will only tell you, Mr. Wylie, that there are men in this city who would give half their fortune to be in your slippers tonight. To have what awaits you on the other side of this door."

"Then why not one of them? Why'd you bring me here and go to all this trouble?"

Norris sighed again. "Just go, my boy. Be gentle yet manly. Enjoy the treasure now being offered you."

Realizing that the conversation was over, Adam turned and opened the heavy door, entering a bedchamber that was far more spacious and elegant than any he had ever seen. One candle illuminated a wide brass bed; in it lay a figure hidden by bedcovers. In the dim golden light, Adam could see no more than a mass of light brown curls on the pillow.

His heart now beating fast, the young man approached the bed. The woman rose up; she was wearing a black veil that entirely hid her face. Below that was a low-cut silk gown with the outline of an ample bosom. Adam sensed that however nervous he was, the woman was in fact terrified. She looked at Adam for a few seconds, then quickly leaned across the bed and blew out the candle. Now the room was utterly dark and silent.

The young man undressed and slid into the bed. As he did so, he heard the woman removing the veil from her face. When his legs touched the woman, she gave a faint, "Oh my!"

Adam hesitated, then said, "Ma'm ..?"

"Please!" came a voice in the darkness. "I beg you, say nothing!"

The young man waited, feeling as if he had entered some dream world. He could now perceive the woman's fragrance, sweet and feminine. It drew him to her. He leaned forward, unsure where she was. When his lips by chance met her neck, he began to gently kiss her there. After a moment he moved to her cheek and continued to plant soft kisses. The woman lay with her head on the pillow, accepting this affection even as she was breathing hard and trembling like a leaf. Now and then she gave a low whimper.

Adam moved his right hand under the bedcover and onto the woman's body. It came to rest on something soft and firm beneath her gown that could only be her breast. The woman gasped but did nothing to discourage Adam when he began to caress her bosom.

The gown that the woman was wearing was sleek and thin, unlike anything he had ever touched. Her breast was likewise a mystery. Adam had never touched a woman's body; had never realized how warm and supple that part of her could feel. Continuing to gently fondle her bosom, Adam leaned down and placed his lips on her upper chest, kissing the smooth perfumed flesh there. Again from the darkness came a sigh, a faint "Ah!"

Adam moved his hand down the woman's torso to her mound of Venus; she offered no resistance. Now at last the virgin understood: no part of her body would be denied him. Unlike all his previous experiences with women, tonight would see no coquettish flirting followed by a chaste rebuff. There were pressing matters at hand; an assignment to be carried out, as it were.

Adam paused; he felt the woman's hand on his neck, then her lips on his cheek. Now the young man and woman embraced, exchanging kisses that became more passionate. Yet even then they could not join their lips together. Adam finally sensed that he should mount the woman. He did so, still unsure of how to achieve his ultimate goal.

She spread her thighs in welcome and pulled up her gown above her waist. The tip of his manhood rested against her sex, but the virgin needed guidance. The woman, with yet another quiet moan, took his stiff cock in her hand. She gently drew it forward.

Now it was Adam's turn to gasp as he realized that the sensation of heat and wetness on his cock head came from the woman's body. Gaining some purchase with his knees, he made a tentative thrust and discovered that the further his manhood sank into this mysterious velvet sheath, the more delightful it felt.