20. FAMILY
"Okay, we're almost there," I said to my new wife, as we turned the car off of the main street and onto our long, winding driveway. It was almost time for the big first meeting. I was getting nervous. "Now remember, she's a very sweet, sensitive girl, so do your best to be accepting."
"Grant, if everything you say about her is true, there's no way I won't adore her."
"Just... be mindful of your expressions. She's very special. Unique..."
"Yes, I know. You've told me a thousand times. Relax. It'll be fine."
"Okay, you're right. I'm sure she'll love you, I just..."
"Grant – chill."
"Right. Chilling."
I pulled my black '73 Corvette up in front of the tall, columned front porch of our home in Gloucester, listening closely for the scurrying of feet on the other side of the door. They heard us coming down the driveway.
Okay. Here goes...
I got out, walked around and opened Coraline's door for her, walking with her to the front door.
"Alright – close your eyes..." I started, but it was too late. As soon as we were close, the door opened from the inside. Harvey and Lucy stood close together, somewhat warily, with London's little 4'8'' frame in front. I had forgotten up until that point that London's warm blood and beating heart might present a powerful temptation to Coraline (hence the apprehensive looks from my brother and sister-in-law).
"Oh – well, hello there," Coraline said, extending her hand as she looked over London's face. I watched anxiously, taking note of the changing expression in Coraline's face, as she saw my daughter for the first time.
London bypassed the handshake, and reached out to give Coraline a hug. Harvey's eyes grew wide with caution, but there was nothing to be afraid of. Coraline reached down, embracing her delicately – and a bit awkwardly.
"It's nice to finally meet you in person, Aunt Coraline," London said sweetly as she stepped back to her original place. "My dad has told me so much about you."
"It's... very nice to meet you, too, London," Coraline said, making an effort to smooth over her presentation. I could see the signs in her expression, though. The wheels were turning in her head.
"Are you really coming to live with us?"
"Yes, I am."
"Good. We could use another girl in the house."
"How are you, Coraline?" Lucy asked next, also reaching over to give Coraline a hug.
"I'm very well, thank you," she replied, still preoccupied with London. "It's so nice to be here."
"I cleaned the rats out of the cellar for you," Harvey said, joking, but keeping a straight face. "It's all yours."
"Oh. Thanks, so much for the hospitality, Harvey."
"My pleasure. We wanted you to feel right at home."
"Well, what're we standing in the doorway for?" Lucy asked, opening the door a little wider. "Let me show you around. That is, if I can steal you away from your hubby."
"Sure. I'd love to see the house," Coraline replied politely. This was all a little strange for her. It would probably take a few weeks for her to feel at home with the family. London didn't have that problem.
"So, what do you think?" I asked her, once Lucy and Coraline were out of the room.
"She's very pretty," London replied with an excited smile. "And she seems like she's really nice."
"You sure you won't mind sharing me with her?"
"Nah. There's plenty of you to go around," she said, hugging my waist.
"I guess I'll take that as a compliment," I replied, rustling her hair playfully. "Did you clean up your room?"
"Yep. It's ready for inspection."
"Good. Wouldn't want Coraline thinking we're a bunch of slobs around here."
She went quiet for a moment before speaking again.
"Hey dad?"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"I'm really happy for you."
"Thanks, honey." I squeezed her tightly. Finally, my family was complete.
Once Lucy was finished with the extensive tour of the house, Coraline and I went out to the garden so we could speak privately.
"So, I'm sure you have questions..." I began, speaking of London.
"She's not human."
"No."
"So, what... I mean, uh, that sounds kinda bad..."
"Her mother was a human. Her father was a vampire."
"No... seriously?"
"As far as we can tell, yes."
"Is that even possible?"
"Apparently it is."
"Wow. Do you know who the father is?"
"No. I'm afraid to ask or look."
"Yeah, the casual observer would totally mistake her for an immortal child."
"Exactly. Now you understand our secrecy."
"So, how old is she again?"
"Yes, about that... it's a little complicated. Technically, she's a little over five years old, but physically, she's about the size and maturity of an eleven-year-old girl. And her intelligence is off the charts. College-graduate level, at least."
"Wow. So if she's growing that fast..."
"There's no way of knowing for sure. If she continues to grow at this pace, she'll be an elderly woman in thirty years. I don't think that'll be the case, though. Her cells show no sign of wear or decay whatsoever. I can't imagine her body just breaking down due to age."
"But you could end up with a daughter older than you."
"Well... theoretically, yes."
"Nice. Oh, and how is it that you're 'dad,' and I'm 'Aunt Coraline?'"
"The whole naming process has been exceedingly complex around here since London learned the truth about herself."
"So she knows? About being adopted, and the half-breed thing?"
"Yes. She's at peace with it, as much as could be expected. I figured, once you two got to know each other a little better, you might be able to talk to her about it, since..."
"Since I can relate to being an orphan. Sure. I'd be happy to."
"I think she really likes you."
"Good. She seems like a really sweet girl. And she's beautiful."
"I know. You'll love her."
"I'm sure I will. I just need time to adjust to everything."
Coraline got settled into the house, and in no time, she was feeling quite at home. Lucy had an extensive wardrobe prepared for her in her own walk-in closet, Harvey taught her to ride a motorcycle, and London gave her the grand tour of the town. I had taken two weeks off from teaching, so I had all day long to spend with her, talking, kissing, and... keeping busy with other pleasant things. It was all like a wonderful dream.
I had been hopeful that London and Coraline would get along, but the friendship they developed over their first summer together far surpassed my highest expectations. Coraline somehow managed to come across less as a parental figure, and more like the "cool" older sister, which didn't help with discipline, but did help a lot with London's social development. The two of them did all sorts of things together – playing music, braiding hair, even decorating the 4-foot-tall Barbie mansion in her room. Beyond activities, though, their friendship was a good emotional outlet. London was willing to open up to Coraline about many subjects that she was unwilling to share with Harvey, Lucy or me. 'Aunt Coraline' was something of an intermediary between me and London on all the touchy subjects, which is why they both came into the study together one August afternoon to present their case.
"Hey Grant, London has a question for you," Coraline said, standing behind London, hands on her shoulders. I knew I was about to be suckered into something I didn't want to do, but I went along with it. After all, how could I tell both the women in my life no?
"Okay," I said, putting down my paperwork. "What is it, darling?"
"Um... you know how you made those scissors to cut my hair," London asked, somewhat nervously.
"Yes..."
"Well, I was wondering, do you think... um, you could make something else like those?"
"Sure. Like what?"
"I dunno... maybe, like, a razor?"
"A razor? What on earth would you want that for?"
"For, um... I dunno... maybe shaving my legs, or something," she said awkwardly, bending her head down, but looking up at me hopefully.
"Why would you want to do that?"
Coraline spoke up for her. "Tabitha Greene started shaving her legs this summer, and Ashley Conour has been shaving for longer than that."
"So..."
"So, they're two of the most popular girls in school. If they're doing it, everyone else will be. You wouldn't want London to be the only one left out, would you?"
"Well, my dear, it's not as simple as that. London, honey, I think your legs are just fine the way they are. You look beautiful."
"Yeah, but I don't want to be the odd one out," she contested. "Please? Mom and Aunt Coraline have perfect legs with no hair..."
"Yes, and they had to pluck every one of them out, one at a time."
"I would totally do that, but I think they'll grow back," she said with creased eyebrows.
"That's exactly my point, London. They'll just keep growing back."
"Then I'll keep shaving them. Please, dad? I don't ask for a lot. Just this one thing. Please..."
"Alright, alright. Let me get back to the lab, and I'll see what I can do."
"Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you," she said, squeezing me so tightly in a hug that it nearly hurt. "You are the best dad ever!"
Coraline smiled as London ran off, most likely to tell her friends.
"Can you actually do that?" she asked.
"I don't know. Building a pair of scissors is one thing, but a razor? It would have to be a stronger substance. Otherwise, I'd have to quit my job just to make blades all the time."
"Well, if anybody can do it, you can," she said, walking over and sitting across my lap. "You're a good man, Grant Willoughby."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Misses Willoughby," I replied.
"Mmm... I like the way that sounds. Of course, you know what you have to do when you call me that, right?" she said with a playfully raised eyebrow.
"Why do you think I said it?" I replied, as I lifted her up and carried her back to our room.
Razor development could wait an hour.
Or two.
As soon as I got back to my lab to resume my studies on carbon structures, I remembered how much of a science nerd I really was. I wasn't thrilled about the idea of my little girl growing up and wanting to shave her legs, but I was
energized by the challenge of building a suitable razor. I knew a carbon nanotube wouldn't be strong enough to work for my new project, so I went back to the drawing board. I began by studying the molecular structure of a strand of London's hair, as well as a strand of my own.
The basic structure of my hair, as well as virtually every other element of my vampire body, was put together in a tetrahedral arrangement, much like the carbon structure of diamonds. That explained a vampire's tremendous tensile strength. London's cells, on the other hand, were formed in a variety of different arrangements. Her hair, which was one of the weaker structures on her body, was very similar to graphite – layers and layers of paper-like carbon sheets, arranged in a grid. I had to develop something much stronger if I wanted a razor that would cut several hundred hairs without becoming dull, while being small enough and sharp enough to do the job easily.
I spent another solid week in research, but came up empty-handed this time. My own nanotube structure was still the strongest known to man, and there was no theoretical way to make it any stronger than it already was. The only thing in the known universe that could effectively cut her hair would be vampire teeth, and as much as I loved her, I wasn't about to pull mine out to make a razor for her. And then the obvious hit me.
I had the blueprint for the perfect cutting device in my own mouth. I sat in the university library all night, studying my own teeth in exhaustive detail and taking mental notes. It was one of those situations where you have a theoretical breakthrough, and everything falls easily into place, as if the answer had been staring you in the face all along. For all the mysticism surrounding vampires, we were still made up of the same essential ingredients as the world around us – namely, carbon – which meant that if I followed the arrangement of atoms exactly, I should be able to reproduce the same structures artificially.
After my library study session, I sought and purchased a small stockpile of coal to work with, and began trying to construct a vampire-esque carbon structure using my mind. The initial experiments were quite frustrating – the atoms were very reluctant to shape themselves how I wanted, and I ended up throwing most of the mutant coal bits out the window. Eventually, though, I powered through the resistance, and found a sort of telekinetic formula for rearranging carbon atoms, much like an algorithm for solving a Rubik's Cube.
The full process took me 17 hours of intense concentration and periods of mental relaxation (I went through 5 sets of Gameboy batteries), but I came out the other side with a 2½-inch blade that was structurally indiscernible from vampire teeth. I mounted it to a carbon nanotube casing and handle, and packaged the cutting device in a felt-lined, polished-walnut case. London was thrilled to see her wish granted in such short order, and after a little test-run with her aunt's instructions, she was even happier with the results. I was happy, too, but with a bittersweet aftertaste. My little girl was growing up, much faster than I wanted.
The school year started for London, shaved legs and all, and she didn't waste any time getting involved. Before she was three weeks into the fall semester, I had a permission slip in my hands, asking me to allow my only daughter to go on a two-week choir tour through eastern Europe with a bunch of middle school girls – and boys. Needless to say, I wasn't overly thrilled with the idea, but, as usual, Coraline pleaded London's case for her, and I caved in. We decided to allow the trip with the condition that she call to check in at least once every other day. I knew it was a little excessive, but I couldn't help worrying about her well-being out on her own.
I was driving home from an evening lecture one night during the first week of London's tour, when the strangest thing happened to me. All of a sudden, my attention became divided, as my mind struggled to keep a handle on two completely separate sets of external stimuli. It was like I was in two places at once – two sights, two sounds, both layered over each other, like a set of overhead transparency diagrams. In my secondary vision, I saw what looked like the inside of a large bus – tacky-colored high back fabric seats, tinted windows, and a high ceiling. And then, as suddenly as it came, the sight was gone, replaced by darkness. I could still hear the corresponding sounds, though. The hum of nearby road traffic. A fly, or other similar insect buzzing around a few feet away. And in the foreground, intermittent sobs and sniffles. I started to pull the car over to the side of the road, but the vision stopped as abruptly as it started. Thoroughly confused, I continued on my hour-long commute, making it about three miles before the vision interrupted my driving again. I pulled over completely this time, focusing on the other set of senses. The image of the bus swung and darted around, as if it were being controlled by someone else's eyes, someone who was looking for something. I still heard the sobs, along with the distant sound of someone speaking polish. And then I saw an unmistakable figure reflected on the bus window.
"London?" I said aloud, more confused than ever. What I heard next was even stranger.
"Dad?" I heard her say, as clearly as if she were sitting right next to me. I quickly realized that the sound of her voice was coming from my second set of senses.
"Is that... you?" I asked, trying to make sense of things. "What's happening?"
"I don't... I don't know," she said, sounding like there were still tears in her eyes. "I was sitting here by myself, and then all of a sudden, I saw the inside of your car... like I was inside it, or something, but at the same time as I was seeing things here. Did you..."
"I saw the same thing," I said, astounded. "Only, I saw a glimpse of a tour bus-"
"Oh my gosh! That's where I am right now." She held her hand out in front of her, wiggling her fingers. "Can you see that?" she asked.
"Yes. You just wiggled your fingers."
"Ooooookay. This is really weird," she said. Then everything in the other vision went dark again.
"Hey – what happened? Everything in my other, uh... vision just went dark."
"What – seriously? I just closed my eyes..."
"I think we're somehow seeing and hearing things through each-other's consciousness."
"But... that's not possible."
"London, you of all people should know, lots of impossible things are possible." I got excited as I started to process the information. This was one amazing discovery. "Okay, think with me a moment. How did this start? Do you know what you were doing to cause this? Or, maybe I caused it..."
"I dunno, like I said, I was just sitting here in the bus by myself..."
She trailed off, sounding emotional. I really wanted more information about what in the world was happening with this connection, but I couldn't shake the concern I had for whatever seemed to be causing London emotional pain. I shifted momentarily out of scientist mode and into parent mode.
"Have you... been crying?"
"No," she said, choking back another sob.
"London..."
"It's fine, I promise. I'm fine."
"Something's going on..."
"It's just the girls. Being mean, like always. It's no big deal, though. I'm just fine."
"Are you sure? Sitting in a bus all by yourself doesn't seem fine."
"... no," she said, starting to cry again. "I'm not really fine. I'm horrible. Tiffany called me a freak, and I got upset, so I laid down in the bed and started to cry, but I was so upset I didn't realize that I laid down in Ashley's bed, and she got real upset and blew it out of proportion, and so I just left the room for a minute to get some fresh air, and then when I came back, they locked me out, and pretended like they were asleep, but I could hear them laughing at me, so I snuck onto the bus, 'cause at least there's no one laughing at me in here. I miss you so much. I want to come home. I was just thinking about how much I wish you were here, and then, all of a sudden, you sort-of are."
"I'm very sorry, London," I said, angrier than I let on. "What city are you in right now? I'll hop on the plane and be over there to pick you up in five hours."
"No, that's okay. You don't need to do that. I'll be fine. I just... really miss you."
"I miss you too, sweetheart. I'm really glad we're able to have this, er... conversation, though."
"I really am a freak, aren't I? I'm pretty sure I made this weird thing happen."
"This 'thing,' whatever it is, is quite remarkable. It's not weird. It's extraordinary."
"Do you think this is, like, a special ability, or something? Like, how you can move stuff with your mind, or how Aunt Coraline can read people's motives?"
"I absolutely think it is, yes. And quite a profound gift, at that. London, you're so very special. Remember, the other girls just don't understand you-"
"And people are afraid of what they don't understand," she interrupted, rolling her eyes. Yes, I could tell. "I know, I know. I just wish they didn't have to be so mean all the time."
"It's just human nature, honey. It never goes away. Trust me. It's an unfortunate fact of life."
The two of us talked for the next hour and a half, I in my car seat and she in hers. By the end of the time, I could tell she was in better spirits. I could also tell it was getting late. During a long segment of my own rambling, the sights in my secondary vision slowly got dim, and then completely dark.
"London? Are you still there?" I asked.
The lights suddenly came back on in a jolt. She was falling asleep.
"Sorry! I guess I dozed off for a second. I'm just really tired. I think, if you don't mind... I'm gonna try and go back into the room."
"Of course I don't mind – you need your sleep."
"I hope they let me in this time. They've had enough fun..."
"Do you still remember how to pick a lock, like I showed you?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"You could always try getting in that way. And if that doesn't work, just kick it down. That'll teach those girls a lesson. Don't worry, I'll pay for it."
She chuckled. "You're so devious, dad."
"What do you expect? I'm a vampire."
"Good point. So... um... I'm not exactly sure how to shut this off..."
"It started while you were thinking about me, right?"
"I think."
"So, try thinking about something else. Think about where you'll be singing tomorrow, or your favorite place that you've been so far. Or – better yet – think of how shocked those girls would be if you ripped that hotel door off of its frame with your bare hands and threw it through the wall."
She giggled. "Yeah, that would be prett-"
And I was back to just myself and the car.
"Remarkable!" I said aloud as I sat in the car, processing what had just happened. So she is a "special," after all. I had been wondering for years whether any special ability would manifest itself in my little girl. Apparently, it just had to develop like everything else in her life.
London contacted me two other times during her trip, once intentionally, and once inadvertently (good thing she wasn't getting dressed at the time). She was also able to contact Lucy for a short while. We were all astounded by her newfound ability, and all the more aware of how truly unique she was. Now more than ever, we were sure she needed to avoid the wrong kind of attention. Of course, as she grew older, the wrong attention was all she seemed to want.
In the summer of 1995, we moved to Coventry, where London skipped forward to the 11th grade. I don't know if it was the new friends, the high-school atmosphere, or just her newfound hormones, but somewhere in the mix, an attitude appeared. Gone was the sweet, innocent, nine-year-old London we all adored, replaced instead by 16-year-old, too-cool-for-parents London, who was much less interested in time with 'dad' than time with boys. We still loved her, of course, but she tried our patience on a daily basis.
By the time she received her diploma, London's growth rate had begun to slow down noticeably, until she reached the point where she stopped altogether, becoming frozen in time with the body of a 19-year-old young woman. Though we were all as proud as could be of her accomplishments, we urged her to continue her education. With her intelligence and my inside track with the academic world, the sky was the limit for her. I even secured a place for her at Oxford, making sure she could get in with all the best professors. By that point in her life, though, London was less interested in learning and more interested in doing. She declined the invitation to Oxford, and instead, spent her time opening another free clinic with Lucy, much like the one she was born in.
My own daughter choosing to forgo a world-class college education was a tough pill to swallow. I kept nudging her, and was at least able to convince her to take a few college courses through correspondence, which eased my mind a bit about her future. Ultimately, though, I had to turn her loose and let her do her own thing. She was, after all, a grown woman now, and a terrific one, at that. I knew I couldn't hold onto her forever, and I was alright with that, I just hoped that whatever direction her heart took her would lead to a long, happy, peaceful life. That's what she deserved. Unfortunately, though, as so often happens in life, she seemed doomed to repeat the tumultuous steps of her parents, both natural and adopted.