Great Expectations
Epilogue
As I stood outside the house that holds so many emotive memories, I felt my heart beat rapidly against my chest. The first thing that occurred in my mind was to turn around and walk to the churchyard that I used to go to. I dismissed that thought and looked up. The brown rusty door in front of me was once an entrance to discover my sister waiting to scold me for leaving the house without informing her. Now, I would walk inside and feel nothing except her eerie still rooming the home on a Christmas night. I looked over at my beautiful wife, Estella slowly intertwining her hand in mine and moving up a few steps to knock at the door. After the third knock, the door was stretched open and out of it came Joe greeting us with his big arms, "Pip, my boy! I was startin' to wonder where you was". He quickly led us inside before turning around to take a long gaze at the figure standing beside Estella with a grin on her toothless mouth. "You, I assume is Myrtle. My, what a pretty dove you are. Tell me your age little one", said Joe. My daughter glanced at me before pushing her five petite fingers in front of him to see. He gave her the same smile she had given him when we came inside. Then, Joe gave us a gesture with his hand signaling us to move to the dining room where Biddy was just about to finish putting the plates down on the dining table filled with different Christmas dishes. She looked at us and gave us a small smile before shouting at the young Pip to come into the room. The boy rushed inside, while Biddy motioned us to sit down at the round table.
The Christmas dinner was prepared by Biddy, and for many years before her, it was cooked by my sister. The food was more or less the same, although now, I was a gentleman with table manners that I had practiced for years. While I would use my fork to pick up the small pieces of chicken from my plate, Joe still used his hands to pick them up and dip them in gravy before popping one in his mouth. Throughout the dinner, my dear friend Biddy was the first to break the silence emerging around us. "Pip, how is it that you never came to visit us for the past six years?" she questioned. I sighed and softly spoke, "Estella was pregnant with Myrtle and all we could think about is waiting until our daughter grew up a bit before we thought it would be suitable for us to start coming again". Somehow, my swift reply to her question did not seem to totally convince her for our reason of not visiting. I noticed that when she gave me a stern look and continued to eat her vegetables.
I was an open book to Biddy and she always knew when I bluffed or spoke honestly. The truth was that it had been nine years since my marriage with Estella, and it was the year that Estella was with child that I told her in detail about her parents. After explaining her about the convict that I helped long ago being her father and the gruesome tale of her mother's relationship with him, I got the reaction I was expecting. The cold-hearted Estella was completely broken inside and the only thing that redeemed her heart was our daughter, Myrtle. Along with my wife, I saw her take the first breath of life. The following five years, Estella had stayed in her room with the girl, and raised her with a tender heart that she lacked growing up. I could not believe the change in my wife over the years. The social status that influenced her once was nowhere to be seen, but again it was always going to fade away since she married me.
I closed my eyes and thought of that one freezing winter night this year when I got a letter from Biddy inviting us for Christmas dinner. I held the cold flat letter in my hand and walked to the kitchen spot where Estella was teaching our now five-year old the proper way of placing the spoons on a counter. She stopped as soon as she saw the letter in my hand. Moving quickly towards her, I placed the letter in her hand, and she began to read it. After a while, she looked at me and at our daughter concisely before nodding her head. I drifted out of my thoughts and looked around the dining table a bit confused at Estella's agreement to come here. But again, I have never fully understood her actions.
Sometime that evening, I found myself sitting on a chair near the fireplace beside Joe. He was busy reminiscing about the times I tried to teach him how to write. "You were the best teacher, Pip. I got you to thank for whatever I can write down", he said unnoticing that I was lost in my own thoughts of my sister. She had spent her entire life raising me. I thought about visiting her grave later that night and paying respect to my parents' tombstones as well. My thoughts were interrupted when Biddy came out with teacups in her glowing red hands, passing one cup to Joe before handing me one. My puzzling yet striking wife, Estella, was nowhere to be seen in the room, but I heard the fiddling utensils in the kitchen. I supposed it was Estella in the kitchen probably placing the spoons accurately in the position she would think they should be in. Once again, I just assumed things without much evidence.
A few moments later, I stared blankly at the scene in front of me. On the left side of the fireplace, I saw my daughter playing intensely with the young Pip. They were not playing cards like Estella and I used to with Estella joyously declaring my defeat every time. No, these two innocent minds were engaged in playing a game that I could never imagine playing with her. My daughter had a small green round ball in her right hand aiming towards a small blue ball that was placed inside a circle that was drawn by coal on the brown floor. Hastily, she took a shot at the blue ball inside the center of the circle, before it went outside of it. She happily clapped her petite hands together and looked at the young Pip who had his arms crossed in front of him. I saw him repeat the actions that Myrtle had done earlier and he took a target at a different coloured round ball. Missing the shot, he sighed out loud. I watched as my daughter would him a look with her tongue sticking out. I chuckled inside at how much she resembled her mother with the same coloured eyes and facial expressions.
It was pitch black outside when Estella and Biddy came out of the kitchen and in the living room. Their face appeared to be in full observation at the children that continue to play together. I, however, observed the facial expression of Estella as she stared at our daughter who had her tongue sticking out of her mouth once again. My wife, marched towards her and said in a serious yet caring tone, "No my sweet child, you must not be so mean. He is your friend and you must show him the kindness I taught you, dearie". My mouth opened a bit in awe. My wife that grew up without a gentle heart and to whom social status meant so much, yet she did not differentiate between the young Pip and her daughter. This young boy, born to a former blacksmith had gotten the same respect as a child of a rich gentleman. I took a deep breath and told Joe that I had to leave for a bit. Then I got up from my creaking chair and went outside. I found myself walking on a path that would always lead me to the Churchyard. I closed my eyes and inhaled the same night mist from the grass around me that reminded me of when I ran from the convict (Estella's father) who was actually my benefactor. And, because of him, I had become the man of my great expectations.
THIS IS THE END OF THE FINAL STAGE OF PIP'S EXPECTATIONS.
