"Doctor, I heard some queer noises coming out of the basement."

The year was 1929. It was during this time that the world was going through the great depression; families all over the world came to North America, seeking the 'American Dream.' Though, none have come close to tasting the sweet honey of this prize. 

There lived a family, six in all. The mother recently endeavored the death of her husband. A widowed mother in charge of five kids, she was expected to help these children survive. How was she going to give her children the life that she wanted for them?

Enter Doctor Browne, a middle-aged man who usually keeps to himself, and often seen frequenting the local bar. He was wealthy, rich, and a household devoid of others. It was during this time that the mother of the family, which I will call Mrs. Wellsh, happened to come across Dr. Browne while keeping her kids warm in the alley. 

"Mrs. Wellsh? Might I ask what you are doing in the alley?" asked Dr. Browne. Mrs. Wellsh stared at the darkened figure standing in front of the streetlight.

"I would greatly appreciate it if you leave me be," said Mrs. Wellsh. 

"As you will," said Dr. Browne. He raised his feet but then halted, his body language fanciful, and practiced. "Might I ask you if you have a place to stay during this night?"

"Please, you are waking my children," frowned Mrs. Wellsh.

"I apologize, but if you prefer you can come to my home to rest for the night and then migrate to the next farm for work?" mentioned Dr. Browne.

"I will keep that in mind," said Mrs. Wellsh. And keep it in mind she did. His proposition plagued her thoughts, the ominous cold waiting in the near future; Waiting to terrorize her children while they slept was the push she needed to draw a conclusion. So, in the evening she rang her doorbell, the kids enthralled to finally have a warm place to stay.

"I see you have taken up to my offer! Please, come in, come in, make yourself at home," smiled Dr. Browne.

"I can not thank you enough, I swear I will pay you back," smiled Mrs. Wellsh.

That night she read her children a story, and kissed them good night, they slept with a smile for the very first time in ages. She walked to the living room to find Dr. Browne sitting in a fine red velvet chair, with a pipe in his hand. He had a fire going, the flames spreading its soft light across the room giving the room a feigned welcoming appearance.

"Marvelous children you have there, Mrs. Wellsh. They must have their purposes," smiled Dr. Browne.

"Purpose? But then again they do bring in decent income, but none of the money goes towards my interests," sighed Mrs. Wellsh.

"Mrs. Wellsh, might I introduce you to my work? It would greatly appreciate it if you saw what I do for a living," asked Dr. Browne.

Mrs. Wellsh, taken aback by his strange offer evaluated the situation in front of her. If she chooses to ignore this man, and do what she pleases, would she be able enjoy her night in peace?

"I... I suppose it couldn't hurt," stammered Mrs. Wellsh.

"Excellent," beamed the doctor launching himself unto his feet. "I will see to it that you can understand my purpose in this world."

The eldest son woke up first that morning. He clamored down the stairs to find his mother's spot on the couch empty. She never did sleep. The doctor was busy, typing away on his type writer, indulged in his work while muttering to himself silently.

"Dr. Browne? What was all that noise last night?" asked the boy, timidly.

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