February 11th, 1899.
Back in their familiar New York home, the morning sunlight streamed into the dining room. Kingston family had returned to the city after their trip to Texas. John and George also initially came back to New York but subsequently returned to Beaumont to oversee the initial stages of their ambitious refinery project.
As they gathered for breakfast, the customary stack of newspapers was brought to the table by Mrs. Etta Givens, a widow in her late fifties with a kind smile and knowing eyes. Etta had been a part of John and George's early life in Beaumont, Texas. She had often babysat young George while John was working hard to make ends meet and care for his younger brother.
After John left Texas, his contact with Etta was limited to brief encounters during his infrequent visits to his mother's grave. However, during this recent trip to Beaumont with his family, John had been saddened to see the difficult circumstances Etta and her family were facing. Her husband had passed away, and her son had lost his farm to the banks during the economic panics of 1893 and 1896.
Seeing her hardship, John felt a deep sense of obligation and gratitude for her past kindness. He convinced Etta to return with him to New York, hoping to offer her and her family a chance for a better future. Etta's grandson, Thomas, a bright young man, had recently gained admission to Columbia University, an institution that, remarkably for the time, accepted a small number of Black students. John had discreetly used his influence to help pave the way for the young man's acceptance. Etta's son Gabriel had also started working in the offices of Kingston Inc., providing the family with a stable income.
"Here are the papers for you, Master Kingston," she said gently.
"Thank you, Mrs. Givens," Michael replied politely.
Michael's gaze fell upon the newspapers as Etta placed them on the table. A headline, typical of Hearst's sensationalist style, blared across the front page of The New York Inquirer: "VICTORY COMPLETE! U.S. Gains Vast New Territories as Treaty with Spain Formally Ratified!"
Michael sighed, picking up the paper with a sense of weary familiarity. Humans, he thought, always seemed to find reasons for conflict, regardless of the world.
The Spanish-American War, though brief, had profoundly altered the global landscape. It had officially concluded with the formal ratification of the Treaty of Paris. Through this agreement, Spain relinquished its claims to Cuba, and ceded Puerto Rico, Guam, and the Philippines to the United States, with the latter acquired for a payment of US$20 million. The conflict, ignited in April of the previous year, 1898, had been fiercely fueled by the sinking of the USS Maine in Havana Harbor that February. The "yellow journalism" of the era, with William Randolph Hearst's newspapers at the forefront, had played a significant role in whipping up public sentiment against Spain, even before the definitive cause of the explosion was established.
Michael held a critical view of Hearst and the sensationalist press. He recognized how easily public opinion could be swayed by dramatic narratives, a manipulation he found disturbingly similar to some of the power dynamics he witnessed in his dream life.
His mother, Elizabeth, had maintained a more reserved and factual tone in the editorials of The New York Inquirer. She resisted the urge to sensationalize the news, believing in presenting information that allowed her readers to form their own judgments. While this principled approach had earned the newspaper respect, it had also resulted in a slower growth of readership compared to its more flamboyant competitors. Fortunately, the Kingston family's strong financial position allowed The New York Inquirer to absorb these initial challenges.
The news surrounding the war was not entirely celebratory. Reports of the United States Army beef scandal, detailing allegations of tainted meat supplies, had created a sense of disillusionment. Furthermore, the eruption of the Philippine-American War on February 4th in Manila, just a week prior, cast a long shadow over the supposed victory. The Filipinos, who had fought alongside the Americans for independence from Spain, now found themselves in armed conflict against the new occupying power.
Michael, immersed in these newspaper accounts, felt a growing unease. The themes of war, shifting allegiances, and the complexities of international power mirrored, in a disturbing way, his dream life. The weight of those dreams, combined with the unsettling realities unfolding in the present, began to affect his mental state, leaving him withdrawn and troubled. His physical health remained sound, but his young mind grappled with the heavy implications of the world he observed, both real and dreamt.
"Michael," Mary said, entering the drawing room where he sat looking out the window, a faraway expression on his face, "would you care to accompany me to the general store this morning?"
Michael turned, a flicker of interest in his eyes. "The general store? Usually, one of the staff goes, Mother."
Mary smiled slightly. "Yes, usually. But today is Sunday, and I feel a bit stuffy, a walk might do me good. And I thought you might be bored here."
"I am a bit," Michael admitted. "Alright, Mother, I'll come."
They walked the few blocks to the neighborhood general store. As they entered, a bell jingled above the door. The owner, a portly man with a neatly trimmed mustache, beamed at them from behind a long wooden counter. He recognized the Kingstons as some of his wealthiest patrons.
"Good morning, Mrs. Kingston, Master Michael," he greeted them with a respectful nod. "A pleasure to see you both. What can I help you with today?"
The general store was a treasure trove of goods, its walls lined with shelves stocked from floor to ceiling. Barrels of flour, sugar, and pickles sat near sacks of coffee beans and dried beans. Jars of colorful hard candies and licorice sticks adorned the counter. You could find everything from bolts of fabric and sewing supplies to kerosene lamps, tools, and even some patent medicines. The air was a mix of various scents – spices, coffee, and the faint, sweet smell of molasses from a nearby barrel. Customers typically approached the counter with a list, and the storekeeper or his assistants would gather the items for them.
Michael watched the process, a thought forming in his mind. Everything is behind the counter or on high shelves. You have to ask for what you need.
Mary presented a long list to the owner, who began to call out items to his assistants. The purchase grew larger and larger, soon filling several large baskets. Michael estimated they had spent close to a thousand dollars.
"Please have these all delivered to the St. Jude's Orphanage on Elm Street," Mary instructed the owner. "Make sure they arrive by this afternoon."
"Of course, Mrs. Kingston. We'll see to it personally," the owner assured her, his smile even wider.
As they walked back towards their house, Michael's brow was furrowed in thought.
"What's on your mind, Michael?" Mary asked gently.
Michael looked at her. "Do you remember the outdoor fair we visited in Beaumont, Mother?"
Mary raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I recall it. Why do you bring that up?"
"Well," Michael continued, "we went there just to look around, to see what it was like. But when we left, we had bought so many things, much more than we had planned."
"That's often the way with fairs, Michael," Mary chuckled. "All those interesting things on display."
"But that's what I'm thinking," Michael said, his voice gaining a sharper edge. "In the general store, customers give a list, and the storekeeper gets the goods. It's all about what people think they need. But at the fair, we could walk around and see everything. Our eyes saw things we didn't even know we wanted, and we ended up buying more. Why don't we allow customers in stores to be closer to the goods themselves, Mother? Let their eyes decide what they desire, not just what they think they need. If they can see it, touch it, they'll surely buy more."
Mary fell silent, her expression thoughtful. She glanced at Michael, considering his words. It was an unconventional idea, allowing customers free access to all the merchandise in a general store. But as she pondered it, a flicker of curiosity sparked within her. Perhaps the astute mind of young Michael was onto something.