It was 7 a.m., when he came to work. He'd eaten a bagel and drank expresso-delivered, everyday to his office. He'd held calls since it was a thursday, a trade-taking day... Red-haired, mild-mannered, yet certain-voiced; clean-skin, clear resolved blue-eyes and an assertive, manual-strength... He rarely was emotional, for Irish-French descent; a guided, devisiveness for his scheme-of-things, hinged-on terms and edifices... He'd excelled at potential-principles and price-seemingly, molding around him unexaggeratedly. With three-generations composings more, in presence, than practice... He was thorough, theoried and epithetical making-him 'chosen'. In certain-terms, he'd fitted-like a glove; adamant, and infusively, apparent... An MBA at 23, having been hired as assistant-coordinator and being epitomized, at present...
The C.I.O. of the company counted-on him accountably, accordingly and commandingly, as ardent. Demonstrably, an 'object-peripoint' in major-decision of managerial-commandment... Ascoringly, appointed-optingly, placed in-proportment; unitizing and ubitiquous as embraced... As respective as Bau's bridled-lineage, an endowed-family, as occupational-pride. He'd not questioned the discipline, drivenness, or devotedness... His-family had instilled self-belief, bravery, forebearance; as bestowing-propensity... Raised-to be a McMasters; trained, honored and bred. Eating-up any self-individuality, solace, or sacrifice. A McMasters, was trained to be abreast with ability. Driven-hard, he'd overcame selfliness to espouse the heritage of 'McMasters'... Adopting, treatised and endowing-virtues of veneration. Apportedly, empowered and embasic. The condition vented-air in his-office was warmed to 72oF, having a personal-cleaner every night, a private-secretary, clerk and assistant aided-him... ...They expected much from him. After 2:30 p.m., his staff was put to task as he sat in his office; put a shadow with the light flowing inward, noise-goinging outward; sat-in his personal-time....
The flame came-and-went with each puff dousted after every hit& inhalation... His blue-eyes drifted into sunset as his lungs hesitated and heightened. Air simmered, then faded. His heart pounded-deeply and sensation uttered-into beckoning. Bau had rewards, of recourse... 8:20 p.m.: "Bau, I made you a Veal-vinagrette, I brought some 13 year-old red-wine, and Clam chowder I made, as well as cherry pound-cake..." His live-in girlfriend was dressed in a sexy, flowing haltered-dress. They sat at the dining-table prepared by his butler who recognizing the situation, made himself-scarce. They talked, into-the-night.
11:30 p.m. after his-lover was asleep he went alone into the bathroom to take a few-blows and shower.. His girl-friend knew what was occuring and ignored-it.
He'd gotten hooked-in college. Where alone with Ivy-League studies, sports and satire; drugs was an intimate-'potion'. After partying, was the thrux-of drugging, Bau had become skilled-at its use...
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The new trampse-steamer blew as it entered Boston-harbor. On-board were several-dozen emigres from Europe. A national-cry, for workers in the new-nation answered by poor, hungry ambitiously, hopeful-people. The New American-Dream was heralded-by their former-compatriots, beckoning for those willing and able to-heed... Giviing-up everything, they held-dear at home to bravely, try journeying to the United-States. Four-men came from Ireland to offer everything they had to win a new-life under new-terms... Horace, Patrick, Jason and William McMasters left a small-town in Ireland to become abled-bodied workers. Poor-conditions at home with few-jobs, a depressed economy and social-lackings left the four sons to try life, in America... The dream of many who would make life in a new-land... The McMasters were a strong-willed, lot. 'Serfs', who multiplied and devoted their lives to honest-work.. Ireland's vast-poverty, increasing-joblessness and moneylessness, inspired-exodus to a land-of-freedom, work and growth.
The sea-air in the harbor smelled more of coal, as they moved slowly to port. To them all, it was an indication of treasurable-'apparentcies'. Jason, the youngest, spoke first to give-heedrance to where a man could speak frankly, as young-of-years...
"I tell you, brothers... This land is magnificent..." He would-never see Ireland again, catching pneumonia and die. Patrick, the oldest would sell his investment in a saloon return-home and live to 90-years if age. Horace, second-youngest, would birth twelve-children and become a town-newsman, for the Boston-Globe. He'd marry 4-times and give many descendants to take up the name McMasters...
--- ...When his brothers had began to live and thrive, he decided to go West... Three-years after Sutter's Mill the East had a gradual-migration. It had already been a land-rush with territory, farming and business, yet gold, could make a man rich, instantly... America already, prized for higher-living success now it had been done better: hundreds of generally, typical-people from business to bared-living decided-to move West. Within 8-years 10,000 people from all walks of life followed "The fever" grabbing-hold of many with few-successes...
"Bill, I want you to use 'that brain'of yours to think your way-out of trouble." Said Horace. "...Don't want you making grave-mistakes..." ..."Yeah, and when you make a-million, send some home to your-brothers...", said Patrick. ...Riding his-horse, along with 2-pack mules and 3-dogs to...
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