Title: WHAT HE LEFT BEHIND
Author: Slainte
Season: S6
Spoilers: (slight) "Paradise Lost"
Summary: If you think you know Harry Maybourne, think again.
Standard disclaimers apply. No copyright infringement intended. No money changed hands. I just borrowed the Stargate SG-1 universe for a little while.
A/N: This may be sappy, but everyone has a backstory, including Harry Maybourne. Just about everyone has a mother and relatives or friends who believe in them in spite of what might seem to be uncontrovertible evidence, even Harry. I'm also convinced Harry has a soft, vulnerable spot in his heart for O'Neill *and* Carter. He can't be all bad. g
WHAT HE LEFT BEHIND
"Hey, how ya doing this morning?" Tom, the mail carrier, called out as he came through the library door. "I've got a package for you, Em."
He rolled the mail cart up to the circulation desk, handed over a bundle of mail and pulled several book boxes out of the cart and put them on the floor.
"This one is yours," Tom said as he handed me a medium sized box.
"Thanks, Tom."
The box was addressed to me, Em Donohue, in care of the library. One look at the hand printed address, and I knew who sent it. I couldn't open it here. I would have to wait until I got home.
The day seemed to last forever, but, finally, it was time to go home. As soon as I got through my front door, I ripped off the packing tape and opened the box. Inside were documents, an album of pictures, two yearbooks, a box of mementos and two smaller boxes. On top was an envelope with my name on it. Inside was a letter.
Em,
I'm going away for good this time. Things are getting too hot for me here, so I need to disappear, permanently.
If my plan works out, I'll be retiring to a paradise where I won't have to worry about any of my legal troubles or any of my past associates. The only downside for me will be I won't ever see you again.
I've been working on getting my finances in order, no small task given my present situation. After Mom died and I sold the house, I invested most of the sale money. I never felt I could use it for my legal problems; you'll understand why. There's not a lot, but it will be enough to cover most emergencies. I've put the account in your name. You shouldn't have any trouble accessing it.
The jewelry, of course, belonged to Mom. I want you to have them. I think she always hoped you would wear them eventually.
The other stuff, the Air Force things, well, I don't have any use for these where I'm going. Please keep them for me; somehow, I just can't see myself tossing everything out. I lost sight of what it meant to be an officer for a while, especially these last few years, but that doesn't mean I don't respect what they represent. You may be the only one left who believes that.
Thank you for always being there for Mom. She may have been an honorary aunt to you, but you always treated her like your second mother. There were too many times I wasn't available when she needed me. Knowing you were there, living just down the street, meant a lot when I couldn't get home.
I still don't know how things got so off course, not how I planned my life at all. I'm glad she didn't know how badly I screwed up. The last thing I ever wanted to do was disappoint either one of you.
I'm so sorry, Em, try to forgive me.
Take care of yourself,
Harry
When I finished reading the letter, I went to the kitchen and got out the Bushmills and poured some out into a glass.
Standing at the kitchen window looking out at the backyard, I could hardly swallow for the lump in my throat. I don't know how long I stood there, remembering. Harry had always been a part of my life. Our mothers had been best friends, closer than sisters.
Looking out, I realized it was getting dark. Turning on the kitchen light, I walked back to the living room to get the box and bring it into the kitchen where I could spread things out on the table. Once I had everything out, I started going through them.
According to the business papers, Harry had set up a mutual fund account at Fidelity for me; that money would have come from the house sale. Harry had placed all his important documents in this box: his birth certificate, Social Security card, diplomas, Air Force commission papers, the dishonorable discharge papers, passport and his will, dated three years ago, right after his mom died. *Why* in the world would he do that?
When I opened the smaller box, I found it contained Aunt Emma's jewelry: her engagement ring with its diamond chip setting, the locket that she always wore that had pictures of Harry and his dad inside, her mother's antique cameo brooch and her pearl necklace.
The second, larger box had Harry's Air Force insignia, from lieutenant's bars to colonel's eagles, and his medals. There were also insignia and tokens from his days at the Academy and a few pictures and mementos from his various postings.
Then there were the pictures. Harry kept a photo album that always went with him wherever he was posted. The first picture in the album was his favorite picture of his mother. I had taken that picture of Aunt Emma the day Harry graduated as we were waiting for the graduating class to be dismissed. Bathed in sunlight, she looked beautiful, her eyes reflecting the love and pride she felt. In that moment, I somehow managed to capture on film what made Emma Maybourne so special. Harry loved that picture.
The second picture in the album was the Army service picture of his dad taken right before James left for Korea. Aside from Emma's and James' wedding pictures and a few blurry snapshots, that service picture was how Harry remembered the father who died before he was born. Harry was much older now than James had lived to be, but I could see the resemblance. Father and son, both patriots, had considered serving their country a duty and an honor.
The next pictures were from high school, pictures of Harry in costume in Drama Club plays and varsity baseball team pictures. Harry had also kept the group picture of the six of us standing by the rose trellis at the senior prom. Chris, Jan, Mike, Lynn, Harry and I looking so stiff and uncomfortable in prom dresses and tuxedos. Of the six of us, best friends through high school, three were gone. Mike died in Vietnam, stepping on a mine, Chris died in a car accident ten years ago and breast cancer took Lynn. Harry, Jan and I were left. Up until the last few years we had kept in touch. What would I tell Jan when she asked about Harry now?
As I turned the page, I was surprised to see the 5x7 senior picture of me that had rested on Aunt Emma's bookshelf for so long, so that's where it had disappeared to.
There were a few pictures from the Academy in the album along with Harry's graduation picture. That picture had had pride of place in Aunt Emma's living room until she died; a copy of it sat on my bureau. Harry had also put in pictures or postcards of places he lived, and there were pictures of Aunt Emma and me sightseeing with tour guide Harry when we visited him at his different posts. He had even left in a couple of pictures of his former fiancée, Faye; acquisitive Faye who dumped Harry to marry the rich car dealer with the chain of dealerships. No great loss, there.
After Faye, the pictures grew fewer. As Aunt Emma became frailer, we visited less and Harry wasn't able to get home as often as he wished. There were a couple of snapshots taken at the reunion BBQ when Harry was home not too long before Aunt Emma passed away, but that was about it.
I turned the next page really expecting it to be empty, but there was one picture left. I didn't recognize the people in the photo, a tall, silver-haired man and a blonde woman unloading something from the back of a green pickup. They looked unaware of the camera, and I wondered if they were friends of Harry's.
The few remaining pages of the album were empty.
I looked at all the things spread out on the table before me. In that box, Harry had placed the mementos of his life; keepsakes that I knew were precious to him. Looking at the letter, the documents (where could he go without his birth certificate and passport), his mom's jewelry, the pictures and the insignia, all I could think was that if it were anyone else, I'd think this indicated the person was planning to commit suicide. Why else give *everything* of importance away?
Harry wouldn't kill himself. I know it. Harry had been in a lot of trouble lately, serious trouble. Every time I tried to get in touch with him, I had been blocked. The few times he called me, I could tell he was worried, but when I asked he just said it was classified and he couldn't talk about it. "Classified!" The last few years everything had been classified. A barrier had grown up between us, and I knew he was troubled about things in his work, but he never would speak of it except to say he was doing work that needed to be done to protect us all. He was serious, determined, but the joy had gone out of his eyes and there were more shadows there,
Suddenly, he wasn't in the Air Force any more. There had been some type of legal proceedings, but it was "classified". Not being a real relative, I wasn't able to learn much, and, clearly, Harry didn't want me to know. The arrival of the box today was the first I had heard from him for months.
Harry's letter said he was going away to a paradise. If he does mean to commit suicide, there's not one damn thing I can do about it. I have no idea where he might be, or who might know where to find him. I can only hope he meant something else; that he was traveling, hiding out, not able to take his personal belongings with him. Harry knew he wouldn't be returning for a long time and trusted me to store his keepsakes for him. If anyone could "disappear" when he wanted to, it would be Harry. That's it, it has to be.
I'm going to hold onto that thought. Someday he'll come home again, and I'll be able to give everything back to him. Never see Harry again? No, that's not going to happen.
*******************************************************
Thanks for reading to the end.
Constructive feedback always appreciated.
Slainte 11/03
Author: Slainte
Season: S6
Spoilers: (slight) "Paradise Lost"
Summary: If you think you know Harry Maybourne, think again.
Standard disclaimers apply. No copyright infringement intended. No money changed hands. I just borrowed the Stargate SG-1 universe for a little while.
A/N: This may be sappy, but everyone has a backstory, including Harry Maybourne. Just about everyone has a mother and relatives or friends who believe in them in spite of what might seem to be uncontrovertible evidence, even Harry. I'm also convinced Harry has a soft, vulnerable spot in his heart for O'Neill *and* Carter. He can't be all bad. g
WHAT HE LEFT BEHIND
"Hey, how ya doing this morning?" Tom, the mail carrier, called out as he came through the library door. "I've got a package for you, Em."
He rolled the mail cart up to the circulation desk, handed over a bundle of mail and pulled several book boxes out of the cart and put them on the floor.
"This one is yours," Tom said as he handed me a medium sized box.
"Thanks, Tom."
The box was addressed to me, Em Donohue, in care of the library. One look at the hand printed address, and I knew who sent it. I couldn't open it here. I would have to wait until I got home.
The day seemed to last forever, but, finally, it was time to go home. As soon as I got through my front door, I ripped off the packing tape and opened the box. Inside were documents, an album of pictures, two yearbooks, a box of mementos and two smaller boxes. On top was an envelope with my name on it. Inside was a letter.
Em,
I'm going away for good this time. Things are getting too hot for me here, so I need to disappear, permanently.
If my plan works out, I'll be retiring to a paradise where I won't have to worry about any of my legal troubles or any of my past associates. The only downside for me will be I won't ever see you again.
I've been working on getting my finances in order, no small task given my present situation. After Mom died and I sold the house, I invested most of the sale money. I never felt I could use it for my legal problems; you'll understand why. There's not a lot, but it will be enough to cover most emergencies. I've put the account in your name. You shouldn't have any trouble accessing it.
The jewelry, of course, belonged to Mom. I want you to have them. I think she always hoped you would wear them eventually.
The other stuff, the Air Force things, well, I don't have any use for these where I'm going. Please keep them for me; somehow, I just can't see myself tossing everything out. I lost sight of what it meant to be an officer for a while, especially these last few years, but that doesn't mean I don't respect what they represent. You may be the only one left who believes that.
Thank you for always being there for Mom. She may have been an honorary aunt to you, but you always treated her like your second mother. There were too many times I wasn't available when she needed me. Knowing you were there, living just down the street, meant a lot when I couldn't get home.
I still don't know how things got so off course, not how I planned my life at all. I'm glad she didn't know how badly I screwed up. The last thing I ever wanted to do was disappoint either one of you.
I'm so sorry, Em, try to forgive me.
Take care of yourself,
Harry
When I finished reading the letter, I went to the kitchen and got out the Bushmills and poured some out into a glass.
Standing at the kitchen window looking out at the backyard, I could hardly swallow for the lump in my throat. I don't know how long I stood there, remembering. Harry had always been a part of my life. Our mothers had been best friends, closer than sisters.
Looking out, I realized it was getting dark. Turning on the kitchen light, I walked back to the living room to get the box and bring it into the kitchen where I could spread things out on the table. Once I had everything out, I started going through them.
According to the business papers, Harry had set up a mutual fund account at Fidelity for me; that money would have come from the house sale. Harry had placed all his important documents in this box: his birth certificate, Social Security card, diplomas, Air Force commission papers, the dishonorable discharge papers, passport and his will, dated three years ago, right after his mom died. *Why* in the world would he do that?
When I opened the smaller box, I found it contained Aunt Emma's jewelry: her engagement ring with its diamond chip setting, the locket that she always wore that had pictures of Harry and his dad inside, her mother's antique cameo brooch and her pearl necklace.
The second, larger box had Harry's Air Force insignia, from lieutenant's bars to colonel's eagles, and his medals. There were also insignia and tokens from his days at the Academy and a few pictures and mementos from his various postings.
Then there were the pictures. Harry kept a photo album that always went with him wherever he was posted. The first picture in the album was his favorite picture of his mother. I had taken that picture of Aunt Emma the day Harry graduated as we were waiting for the graduating class to be dismissed. Bathed in sunlight, she looked beautiful, her eyes reflecting the love and pride she felt. In that moment, I somehow managed to capture on film what made Emma Maybourne so special. Harry loved that picture.
The second picture in the album was the Army service picture of his dad taken right before James left for Korea. Aside from Emma's and James' wedding pictures and a few blurry snapshots, that service picture was how Harry remembered the father who died before he was born. Harry was much older now than James had lived to be, but I could see the resemblance. Father and son, both patriots, had considered serving their country a duty and an honor.
The next pictures were from high school, pictures of Harry in costume in Drama Club plays and varsity baseball team pictures. Harry had also kept the group picture of the six of us standing by the rose trellis at the senior prom. Chris, Jan, Mike, Lynn, Harry and I looking so stiff and uncomfortable in prom dresses and tuxedos. Of the six of us, best friends through high school, three were gone. Mike died in Vietnam, stepping on a mine, Chris died in a car accident ten years ago and breast cancer took Lynn. Harry, Jan and I were left. Up until the last few years we had kept in touch. What would I tell Jan when she asked about Harry now?
As I turned the page, I was surprised to see the 5x7 senior picture of me that had rested on Aunt Emma's bookshelf for so long, so that's where it had disappeared to.
There were a few pictures from the Academy in the album along with Harry's graduation picture. That picture had had pride of place in Aunt Emma's living room until she died; a copy of it sat on my bureau. Harry had also put in pictures or postcards of places he lived, and there were pictures of Aunt Emma and me sightseeing with tour guide Harry when we visited him at his different posts. He had even left in a couple of pictures of his former fiancée, Faye; acquisitive Faye who dumped Harry to marry the rich car dealer with the chain of dealerships. No great loss, there.
After Faye, the pictures grew fewer. As Aunt Emma became frailer, we visited less and Harry wasn't able to get home as often as he wished. There were a couple of snapshots taken at the reunion BBQ when Harry was home not too long before Aunt Emma passed away, but that was about it.
I turned the next page really expecting it to be empty, but there was one picture left. I didn't recognize the people in the photo, a tall, silver-haired man and a blonde woman unloading something from the back of a green pickup. They looked unaware of the camera, and I wondered if they were friends of Harry's.
The few remaining pages of the album were empty.
I looked at all the things spread out on the table before me. In that box, Harry had placed the mementos of his life; keepsakes that I knew were precious to him. Looking at the letter, the documents (where could he go without his birth certificate and passport), his mom's jewelry, the pictures and the insignia, all I could think was that if it were anyone else, I'd think this indicated the person was planning to commit suicide. Why else give *everything* of importance away?
Harry wouldn't kill himself. I know it. Harry had been in a lot of trouble lately, serious trouble. Every time I tried to get in touch with him, I had been blocked. The few times he called me, I could tell he was worried, but when I asked he just said it was classified and he couldn't talk about it. "Classified!" The last few years everything had been classified. A barrier had grown up between us, and I knew he was troubled about things in his work, but he never would speak of it except to say he was doing work that needed to be done to protect us all. He was serious, determined, but the joy had gone out of his eyes and there were more shadows there,
Suddenly, he wasn't in the Air Force any more. There had been some type of legal proceedings, but it was "classified". Not being a real relative, I wasn't able to learn much, and, clearly, Harry didn't want me to know. The arrival of the box today was the first I had heard from him for months.
Harry's letter said he was going away to a paradise. If he does mean to commit suicide, there's not one damn thing I can do about it. I have no idea where he might be, or who might know where to find him. I can only hope he meant something else; that he was traveling, hiding out, not able to take his personal belongings with him. Harry knew he wouldn't be returning for a long time and trusted me to store his keepsakes for him. If anyone could "disappear" when he wanted to, it would be Harry. That's it, it has to be.
I'm going to hold onto that thought. Someday he'll come home again, and I'll be able to give everything back to him. Never see Harry again? No, that's not going to happen.
*******************************************************
Thanks for reading to the end.
Constructive feedback always appreciated.
Slainte 11/03