Parachutist 2 – Our New World
Chapter 7- Only in America…
A/N Oh, please take the time to read the endnotes, they are so part of my stories…
The images for this chapter are posted on the Twilighted net thread Taking off the parenthesis, here is the link: http:/www(.)twilighted(.)net/forum/viewtopic(.)php?f=33&t=17854
Bella
Rosalie and I take the Jaguar to go to Edward's house, where the others are supposed to arrive with their purchases. Jasper comes back with Emmett, saying that they had met and Alice had accompanied Edward to his bank, where he had something to do. He seems a little cagey about it.
Once the car is fixed we return to the Bellevue, as the afternoon will be sunny again. And tomorrow we leave. Edward has done what he meant to do in Philadelphia and now back to Michigan it is. We will wait for Carlisle and Esme to come back from their umpteenth honeymoon and then, as I understand it, the Cullens will prepare to relocate somewhere else. What will Edward and I do? Obviously we have something to discuss privately, so we separate from the others and, this time with Edward's car, we drive away on our own. The Ford has no tinted windows yet but, according to Alice, we will have cloudy skies and even rain for three or four days, so it will be fine.
When we depart I have more luggage than when I arrived. There has been no time for shopping but, Alice had Seen it and shopped for me in New York. Well, she is like that.
Not far from Philadelphia we pass near Doylestown where I remember there is something I absolutely want to see, after Esme told me about it: Fonthill Castle. The archeologist and tiles collector/ fabricant Henry Chapman Mercer built his castle-museum in 1908 with hand mixed concrete, room by room, starting from the interior and not considering the exterior until all rooms had been imagined and sketched. A technique never used before or after and the result is spectacular. Besides the tiles, the building hosts a collection of pre-industrial tools that Mercer thought were going to disappear even from memory, with the advance of mass production technologies.
Leaving the castle I am mesmerized by what I have seen and I try to explain my feelings to Edward.
"Only in America," I tell him, "only in America you can give reality to your vision, without being weighted down by history, tradition and, most of all, your peers' opinion. Mercer thought it was fine to build in concrete by hand or with medieval tools. No matter if to deal with the most modern of materials with ancient techniques was a contradiction, in a way that it was almost an oxymoron. He wanted to do it and he did. This is real freedom."
"I would have thought that history and traditions are something you value," is Edward's observation."
We have stopped on a secondary road under some trees for me to enjoy the lavish picnic basket the Bellevue has prepared for us, not knowing that only one of us will be eating. I ponder his question, while eating a disproportionate number of delicious mini sandwiches.
"Why yes, as an Italian and a Jew I have millennia of history and tradition on my back and I do value them but, they can be crippling." I don't know if Edward understands me, and I am not even sure of what I want to say. Later, when we are again on the road, it comes to me.
"Of course it is possible to get free from history, tradition and your peers' opinion even if you are not in America, only, I think it is more difficult. But still, it is possible. Look at what Carlisle did. Tradition, history, nature, even, dictated how a vampire should behave, but he refused to submit.
"Indeed..." Edward doesn't add anything else but, it is obvious that he is thinking about it.
We find a nice country inn somewhere in a forest. I have no idea where we are and I don't care. After we have 'shared' a meal in our usual way we retire in our room. Edward needs to hunt, his eyes are darkening, so he leaves from the window, despite the heavy rain. Well, it is not as he would catch a cold, anyway. Alone and not sleepy, I curl up with a book I bought in Philadelphia. It is an anthology called The Pocket Book of Science Fiction and it is something I never encountered before. After a while, however, I notice I am lingering on the same page. What will the future bring, what does it mean to live forever and witness so many changes? If I start thinking about how life was at the end of the last century - as far I know of it - I can see how many things have changed, both in technology and in human relations, not always for the best, but still…. And fifty years from now things will have changed again. It is mind-blowing…
Edward
"Oh my God, oh Edward…" Bella pants.
Under the shower, as hot as she can stand it, what was just to help me to get warmer when I came back has morphed into something else. Would I be able to do this if I was not a vampire? Well, maybe yes, she is a small girl, but it would require some effort. No effort needed presently, there is only pleasure. My hands cupping her delightful ass, her legs around my hips, water gently cascading over us, I am giving her all that I can without hurting her, and it seems to be more than enough. As the inn is deserted apart from us, we do not need to concern ourselves about the noise we make, no family with super hearing here.
We have enjoyed bathing together in tubs but, to make love in a shower is a first. Why haven't we tried this before? I move her on my length, going deeper every time, but carefully keeping my hips stationary. It could be too much, I could go too deep. The little minx reaches for my neck, though, kissing and nibbling my scar and I grow impossibly harder, the need to thrust almost overwhelming.
"Don't be afraid," she murmurs on my skin, "move, you'll not hurt me…"
I have learned to trust her, her body always seems to know what is right, so I let myself go… a little more, and it is divine. My abdomen tightens, I am ready to come… she must too… I decide that one hand is sufficient to hold her, so I slid the other between us and press her little nub and it's enough… for both of us.
When we are spent I envelop her in a bathrobe, towel myself perfunctorily and go back with her to our room, where I have another favorite activity in mind. I take her hair drier, plug it in and start blow drying her tresses, first using the comb and then the brush. Her floral scent invades my senses and I bask in it till the mahogany mass has become a perfumed silk mantle, ready for my fingers to make a mess of again. Mm… No, I have something I want to do first.
I go and get a little box from my suitcase.
"Bella, in Italy I never managed to give you a proper engagement ring. You know, In Philadelphia I went to the bank vault where I keep my family's valuables. I took this for you…It was my mother's."
"Oh Edward, is beautiful. What is it?"
I remember me as a child asking my mother the same question, puzzled by the white stone's light green and gray reflexes.
"A white sapphire." I tell her, sliding it on her slender finger. The setting is in yellow gold, matching our wedding rings.
"Amore, grazie, I feel so proud," Bella says, "I love that it was your mother's…"
I kiss her finger and think about what she is not saying, but is probably evident to her too. Before she obliged me to visit every room of my parent's house and face my demons and my guilt, I could not have borne to see my mother's ring on her hand every day. Now I can. Another miracle Bella has performed.
"Edward," she says, obviously on the same page, "despite what has happened to you in Italy, you still can try to be what you want to be, like Carlisle has done. I know that you will have to be careful, lest the Volturi discover you, but please, think about it. Think of what would make you happy…"
"You make me happy," I start kissing her, taking her in my arms and lying down on the bed with her. But, before we are lost again in each other, Bella insists, covering my wandering mouth with her hand:
"I do hope so but, please, think about it…"
While my angel sleeps peacefully, I reflect on what she has told me today, when we left Fonthill and here, seeing the mad genius' achievements as a metaphor relevant for vampires who don't want to submit to tradition, don't want their nature and the rules of a power-crazy coven to determine them. After all, when she first saw me, Alice had a vision of my future.
When Bella awakens and smiles to me, I have something to say.
"Love, I would like to finish my musical studies and take the diploma. I had decided to go back when the war ended, but fate, and the Volturi, decided otherwise. At least I thought so, until now."
"Well, why not? I understand that our siblings used to go to school or college before the war, so it is possible. Would you go back to Curtis?"
"No, I don't think so," I object, "I have changed too much physically, and there are too many people who knew me before. Even Porphyria would not explain my eyes' color. But, I don't know, Juilliard maybe… I have to discuss it with Carlisle. I think that in many colleges there are schemes for war veterans. My illness could justify a hat, scarf and dark glasses for the sunny days. But, what will you do in New York? I'll be gone most of the day."
"For the time being I would like to perfect my English," is Bella's considered answer. Obviously she has thought about it. "I have a British accent with an Italian cadence, and I need to speak American. I don't want to stand out in any way, it's not prudent. And I need to study more, if I want to be a translator. There must be courses for foreigners I could go to."
So we have a plan. A normalcy plan, I almost can't believe it. Her courage gives me courage. With her at my side and with Carlisle's example I can try…
Endnotes
Oh please, review.
If you don't know about Henry Chapman Mercer and Fonthill Castle just Google the names. I have given Bella the feelings I had when I visited it. 'Only in America' is an expression used sometimes disparagingly (I have seen funny photo booklets). However, here it conveys real admiration. I hope that I was able to express what I mean and that the fact that I use it as a metaphor applicable to vampires and their choices is not too farfetched. Since I started writing the sequel I had Fonthill in mind and wanted to address this.
No, this Bella will not be reading Emily Bronte, she has discovered Sci-Fi, and is enthralled by it. Noting similar was ever published in Italy before the war and it is a look into the future she wants to fantasize about. After all, she is hoping to exist very far in the future. The Pocket Book of Science Fiction (1943 - Donald Wollheim) was the first book of the genre to be published, before that Sci-Fi stories only found their way in magazines.
Here is a good place to have a little rant. The passing of time and the changes in the world are important for the vampires who witness them. What completely maddens me are those stories where, after Edward leaves Bella in New Moon and they meet again after decades (she has become a vamp, meanwhile) the world has not changed a jota. Come on, fifty years ago people did not have a cell phone, a laptop or a credit card, just to name three things that changed our life, world politics apart. But too many authors are completely oblivious of this aspect. If you ever found one of such stories where the future way of life is described with some imagination, please tell me, because, having been disappointed many times, I now avoid them like the plague..
The ring I have in mind is on my finger as I write. It was my late mother in law's (You might remember her from The Parachutist's notes – the Resistance heroine) so it belongs to the period's style. The image posted on the Twilight forums gives you an idea. And no, it is not my engagement ring: that adorns beautifully my daughter in law's hand.
Amore, grazie means Thank you, love.
