America 1929: John F. Kennedy, the Great Writer

Four people entered the theater.

The walls of the small foyer were covered with photos of various performances. Arthur saw a picture of Eugene O'Neill, as well as images of other famous playwrights and actors.

At this moment, a middle-aged man, about forty years old, wearing an old sweater, with slightly disheveled hair but bright eyes and a warm smile, came out from inside.

"Passos, you've arrived."

He greeted them, then looked at Arthur:

"This must be Mr. Kennedy?"

Dos Passos explained:

"Yes. Arthur, this is Williams Wright, the manager of the Providencetown Theatre."

Arthur extended his hand: "Mr. Wright, it's a pleasure to meet you."

The other person shook Arthur's hand firmly but warmly:

"Just call me Williams. I've read your 'Yes, Mayor,' it's so well written! It's a perfect portrayal of the bastards in real life."

Arthur observed that the other person's eyes were sincere, his smile genuine, and his handshake was of moderate strength.

It seems this person truly appreciates his work.

"Thank you, I am honored to receive your recognition."

"Come on, let me show you the theater," Williams said enthusiastically, leading the way.

The theater is not large, with a capacity of about 300 people. Although the stage is small, it is exquisitely decorated, the lighting equipment is simple yet professional, and the wooden seats are somewhat old but clean and tidy.

"Although our place is small, our equipment is top-notch. And our audience consists of true connoisseurs of theater. They're not here for the spectacle; they're here for the art," Williams explained.

Arthur walked to the center of the stage and closed his eyes. He imagined the premiere: the audience seats were packed, the lights were focused, and the actors were reciting the satirical and absurd lines he had written, evoking resonance and prompting reflection.

He opened his eyes and said to Williams, "This place is very nice, I like it very much."

Williams was delighted: "That's great! We can discuss the details of the collaboration."

The group went to the theater's office and sat down to talk.

"What's your schedule like?" Arthur asked.

"There's a one-week gap in mid-December. If you can finish rehearsing before then, you can premiere that week."

"Mid-December? That's only two weeks away." Arthur calculated the time and felt a little nervous.

"Time is a bit tight, but Passos said you've already started rehearsing, so I think it shouldn't be a big problem."

"Yes, in the basement of the dock," Arthur said.

"The dock?" Williams' eyes lit up.

"That's wonderful! Rehearsing among workers—that's true people's theater. You know, Eugene O'Neill did the same thing back then. Many of his works were created on the docks, in factories, among ordinary people."

He stood up, walked a few steps around the office, and then turned to look at Arthur.

"Mr. Kennedy, I want to tell you about our theater's philosophy. We believe that theater should not just be entertainment for the wealthy; it should be an art for everyone. It should reflect reality, critique society, and inspire thought."

Williams held Arthur's hand and said sincerely:

"Your 'Yes, Mayor' is just such a work, exposing the absurdity of the bureaucratic system and criticizing the arrogance of power. I really hope you can come to my premiere."

A strong sense of resonance welled up in Arthur's heart, and he extended his hand, saying, "Williams, I'm very happy to work with you."

Williams extended his hand in response, saying, "Me too."

He then proposed, "Then it's settled. December 15th for the premiere, how about that? That's a good day."

Arthur took his hand and answered confidently, "No problem."

……

After leaving the theater, the four walked on the streets of Greenwich Village.

The streets are lined with various small shops, including bookstores, cafes, and galleries. The shop windows display a variety of artworks and books.

Several homeless people sat by the wall on the street corner. They were dressed in tattered clothes and their faces were dirty. Some were smoking, some were dozing off, and some were just staring blankly at the ground.

Two of them caught Arthur's attention.

One was a middle-aged man, lean and wiry, with a look of weariness and wariness in his eyes. He sat by the wall, holding an empty tin can and counting the few coins inside.

The other was a young man, who looked to be in his early twenties. He was tall but somewhat hunched over. He sat next to the middle-aged man, his eyes somewhat vacant, muttering to himself.

The young man's voice was low: "...Tom, will we be able to find work today?"

The middle-aged man replied with a hint of helplessness, "Yes, Jack, we'll find jobs."

The young man then asked, "So, we'll be able to have enough to eat?"

The middle-aged man replied, "Yes, then we can have enough to eat."

The young man smiled like a child and said, "That's great, I'm so hungry."

The middle-aged man didn't say anything, but simply counted the coins in the can again.

Arthur stood there, watching the two men.

The middle-aged man's eyes held weariness and helplessness, but also a resolute determination. He was taking care of the young man, even though he himself was facing difficulties.

The young man's eyes were innocent, yet somewhat lost. He seemed not to understand the complexities of the world; he only knew he was hungry and wanted to eat his fill.

Arthur's heart was touched.

These two people reminded him of a novel he had read in his previous life.

Of Mice and Men, a classic work by John Steinbeck.

It was a novella published in 1937 that tells the story of two homeless workers during the Great Depression.

The main characters, George and Lennie, are inseparable friends. George is small and clever, while Lennie is tall and strong but has an intellectual disability.

They wandered around looking for work, dreaming of one day owning their own small farm, raising rabbits, and living a stable life.

But Lenny likes to touch soft things, unaware of his own strength, and often accidentally kills small animals.

In the end, he unintentionally killed the farmer's son's wife because he just wanted to touch her soft hair.

Faced with the impending lynching, George made a difficult decision: he made Lenny face the river and told him about the dream they had told each other countless times.

"We'll have our own little farm, where you can raise lots and lots of rabbits."

Then, while Lennie was lost in his beautiful dream, he ended Lennie's life with his own hands.

This is a tragic story about friendship, dreams, and despair.

The novel's title, "Of Mice and Men," comes from a line by Scottish poet Robert Burns: "The most meticulous plans of mice and men often go wrong."

Arthur looked at the two homeless men in front of him. Although they were not exactly the same as George and Lennie in the novel, their state of mutual reliance and struggle in despair was so similar.

In 1929, the economic crisis had just begun. The number of homeless people on the streets was increasing, and unemployed workers were searching for work everywhere.

This era needs a story like this, a story about the people at the bottom of society.

Sean suddenly said, "Can we help them?"

Arthur turned his head and looked at Sean. Sean's eyes were sincere.

Arthur replied, "Of course."

He walked up to the two men, took out some banknotes from his pocket, and said, "Gentlemen, here's some money for you. Go buy some food."

The middle-aged man looked up at Arthur. His eyes held both wariness and gratitude. He took the money and said, "Thank you, sir."

Arthur turned and left, with the others following behind.

After walking a few steps, he heard the young man's voice: "Tom, that man gave us money! We can buy food now!"

The middle-aged man replied, "Yes, Jack, we can buy food now."

Arthur paused for a moment, then continued walking.

In his mind, the outline of a story became clearer and clearer.

The story of two homeless workers. They wandered from place to place during the Great Depression, searching for work and dreaming of one day living a stable life. But that dream would eventually be shattered.

But even in the most desperate moments, the light of humanity still shines through. Friendship, sacrifice, love—these are the things truly worth writing about.

Arthur had already made room in his heart for that new story.