Cypress Avenue.
(The English Countryside, 1865.)
I.
Joe Morris walked down the broad country lane. It was early spring and the birds were flying in the skies above, and perched in the branches of the trees.
The sky was a clear blue, partly covered with thick gray clouds. The sun shone warmly on him as he walked in the road towards a nearby Estate. He was on his way for an employment interview there as a gardener. He was not sure that he would get the job. He was not familiar with the Lord Browning who owned the place, and had only heard about the post by word of mouth. By the same means he had obtained a job interview.
He reached the large cast iron gate after passing a hedge. It was not locked but only closed. He looked at the plaque on it which gave the Estate's name; Avalon. A bit pretentious, Joe thought to himself. He entered the gate and closed it behind him again.
Inside the gate was a broad road paved with cobblestones, which led to the mansion. Alongside both sides of this cobblestone road grew two rows of enormous Cypresses. They cast their shade on the road and covered it in shadows. It was cool walking down the Cypress Avenue, and the man's black polished shoes echoed off the cobblestones.
The Cypress lined avenue was about a quarter mile long, and it took a few minutes of walk at a brisk pace, for Joe to reach the mansion. The avenue opened up onto a spacious well-kept garden and he walked past the large front doors, around the house, to the servants' entrance. He took the cap off his head with his left hand, and knocked on the kitchen door with his right.
II.
The maid soon opened the door, and introduced herself as Mrs. Walters, and then led him into the kitchen to wait. It was not long before she returned and said, "Lord Browning will see you now, this way please. She led him down a broad passage way and showed him into Lord Browning's study.
It was a large dimly lit room, and large volumes of leather-bound books lined the sides on huge bookshelves. In the center of the room stood a large oak desk, and the Lord was seated behind it. Lord Browning did not rise when he entered, and he himself remained standing, as was expected of him.
"So you've come about the gardener post, Mr. Morris, said the Lord, and came right to the point, as was his way, "Do you have any references?
"Yes sir, said Joe as he took a sheaf of paper from his coat pocket and handed it to Lord Browning.
The Lord studied the paper for a while and said nothing, but inwardly quickly made up his mind. He would not give this man the job. Hell, he had only agreed to give him an interview because he was distantly known to Mrs. Walters. His reference did not look to bad, but he, Lord Browning could do better. That was the bottom line. Now he had to get rid of this Morris in a diplomatic way. He would not even be aware that the decision had already been made, and that he would not get the job.
"Well it looks in order, but I would like to interview a few other applicants as well, you understand? Do you have an address where I can contact you should I decide to give you the job? said Lord Browning.
"Yes sir, said Mr. Morris and handed him a small slip of paper with the address of his living quarters.
He took it and said, "Thank Mr. Morris, I think that will be all. You will be notified in due course as to whether or not you have been chosen for the position. Mrs. Walters will show you the door.
The two men did not shake hands, and Joe left with Mrs. Walters showing him to the back door. They said goodbye, and she closed the kitchen door behind him.
III.
He walked around the side of the house and crossed the piece of lawn with hedges and rosebushes, and entered the Cypress Avenue once more. He strode with a proud gait down the tree-lined avenue, and the green Cypresses cast their cool shade on him.
He knew the old Lord would not give him the job, he could see it on his face. He tried to cover it up, but no, Joe could see it. He would not get the job, the old man was just stringing him along. But there would be other jobs, maybe not as good as this one, but there would be other opportunities. He would find something in the end. Screw the old goat.
He walked proudly down the cobblestone path in the shade of the tall Cypresses. Their tops swayed gently in the light wind, and the birds flew among them in the air. The avenue was long and cool in the mid morning heat. His black polished shoes echoed off the cobblestones as he walked on down the path.
He took that last walk down the Cypress Avenue, in the shade of the tall trees, with his head held high.
The End.
JP Brown ' 23/04/2006.
