The Genius by Jesse Kellerman

dear friends. What do you say?”
     
     
    THEY BECOME DEAR FRIENDS.
    A friendship driven on the one side by Solomon’s loneliness, his desire for talk, and on the other side by Isaac Singer’s desire not to pay for dinner. Later, Solomon would estimate that during that summer he spent twenty-five to thirty percent of his income—money he could not afford to spend! Profligate!—on meals with Singer. Or loaning Singer money to patch his trousers, or for a new gewgaw for one of Singer’s many children, or for flowers for Mary Ann, or
for no reason at all
, simply
giving
Singer money,
giving it away
, because his friend asked.
    Not with a mind toward getting rich does he do these favors. He does them because he needs to give something to someone, and Singer makes him feel unalone.
    Nevertheless his generosity comes back to him a millionfold. In 1851, Singer moves to New York, taking with him his family and his wagon and some of the money that he has borrowed from Mueller. There he founds a company called the “Jenny Lind Sewing Machine Company,” a multilayered name. Lind is Singer’s favorite singer; naming his company for a singer puts a pun on his last name, hinting as well at his affection for Life in the Theater.
    However meaningful, though, the name proves a touch unwieldy, and soon enough people have begun to refer to his machines simply as “Singers.”
    Plenty of people in the United States make sewing machines; by the time Singer’s hit the stores, there are four other competing designs. But his is the best, and in a very short period of time, he becomes one of the wealthiest men in the United States—taking along with him Solomon Mueller.
    Still, we may wonder
what if
. What if Solomon had never been beaten within an inch of his life; if he had gone back to Germany; if he had not enjoyed the show; if he had declined to pay for dinner. If he knew then—as he found out later—that Mary Ann Singer was not, in fact, Isaac Merritt Singer’s second wife, but his mistress; and that she would be the first of many, and that Singer’s philandering would eventually force him to leave the country. As a young man, Solomon Mueller had a priggish streak; perhaps he would have disassociated himself from Singer if he had known the truth. Many alternative realities stood between Solomon and the great fortune that became his. Might he have succeeded on his own?
    He might have. He worked hard, and he had brains. What else do you need?
     
     
    ONE OF THE LAST THINGS Isaac Merritt Singer said before he departed for Europe in shame was, “You remind me of my father.”
    This conversation took place many years later, in a drawing room richly furnished, in a home a hundred feet high. By then, Solomon Mueller was Solomon Muller, and Mueller Dry Goods had grown into Muller Bros. Manufacturing, Maker of Finest Machine Parts; Muller Bros., Importers of Exotic Wares; Muller Bros. Railroad and Mining; Muller Bros. Textiles; Ada Muller Bakeries; Muller Bros. Land Development Corporation; and Muller Bros. Savings and Loan.
    “How so?” Solomon asked.
    “You always sounded like him,” said Isaac Singer. “His name was Reisinger, you know. Did you know that?”
    Solomon shook his head.
    “Saxony! He spoke German to me until I was five. By God! Uncanny, I tell you, man.” Singer smiled. “The first time I heard you I said to myself, ‘Well, now, Singer, that fellow is the very
ghost
of your father!’ Ha! Like Hamlet’s father, yes? Yes. Well what’s the matter, Muller, you look like I shot and ate your dog.”
    Solomon explained that he had thought his accent gone by the time they met.
    “My friend, you
still
sound like my father.”
    Solomon, chagrined, said, “I do?”
    “Of course you do, man. Every time we speak I yearn to see the old bastard again… Ha! Well, now. Don’t look so sad, Muller, that voice of yours contributes a large part of your charm.”
    Solomon Muller
ne
Mueller said, “I would prefer to sound