Chapter Twenty-five - Dinesen
The dinner itself was delicious and festive. Kylen handled it all pretty well. She only made one gaffe at dinner when she rather forcefully told Ewan to 'Shut up and pass the fucking gravy.' The family paused for a split second then gamely ignored the remark.
Abby had selected Mozart for the background music. McQueen was thankful that it wasn't one of the Russian composers. The family shared memories and stories of their childhood. Even Amy and Dale joined in and offered stories. McQueen did not.
McQueen did have a favorite story from the evening, however. There was a particularly enlightening tale about Frank catching Kylen and Nathan and a group of their friends, who, as a result of a dare, were skinny skating. It was a side of Kylen that McQueen had not fully anticipated - A wild hair. A group of teenagers skating - stark naked - around the back pond in the middle of January. Evidently, Frank had discovered them before anyone sustained any permanent frostbite. The father had been somewhat limited in his meeting out of punishment. The dare had been the result of his own telling a tale of how he and his friends had gone skinny skating following a particularly vigorous pond hockey game. Anything to cool down - the breeze had been delicious and bracing. Sins of the fathers. The sheer foolishness of the escapade had achieved far more notice than the potential scandal of a half a dozen naked teenagers. But Kylen and Nathan had been grounded for a month.
Everyone was too full for dessert. McQueen had to admit that the little kid had been right. He had made the rookie mistake, and was now uncomfortably full. The clean up went quickly. There were many hands to pitch in and everyone seemed to know what needed to be done with little or no direction. They had all done this before. Shortly people were staking out their places to relax and many were on the verge of sleep. Someone had set up a jigsaw puzzle on a table to the side of the keeping room. Amy explained to McQueen that it was an activity people could enjoy while still engaging in conversation. One of the Frat Boys had turned the television back on - low volume. The adults were to have brandy with coffee in the living room. They would all probably have 'something sweet in an hour or so.'
McQueen identified something that had been bothering him on and off for hours. A missing link. A hole. Another lost sheep. "Where is Martin?" he asked Kylen.
"With General Radford. Out West," she replied. "I did ask him."
The information filled in the blank, but did not particularly give McQueen any comfort.
Most of 'The Grown-ups' were making their way towards the living room for rest and conversation when a promotion for a movie was heard from the television. To show support for the war effort and to build patriotism, there had been a spate of jingoistic military movies produced. Not exactly typical holiday fare but nonetheless extremely popular. The promotion was for 'The Triumph of Dallas - The defeat of the Silicates.' Under the announcer's voice, AI chatter spewed from the speakers. Kylen froze, and before McQueen could reach out to stop her, she was running up the stairs. Aislen and Christian were, thankfully, the only other people to catch her reaction. McQueen burned them both with his look.
"Go," he ordered to Christian. Neither he nor Aislen were in any shape to be running up the stairs, but they followed as best as they could.
"She is going to try to get out of the house." McQueen called to Christian in a stage whisper - no need to get the whole house agitated.
"Aislen, how?" Christian asked, his head appearing over the railing above McQueen and Aislen.
"Mom's rose trellis." Aislen urged. McQueen was glad that he had two thinking people with him.
Christian ran to the end of the hall were Kylen had opened a window. She had crawled out onto the roof of the keeping room and was trying to make her way across the slippery roof to the trellis. Christian clambered after her into the darkness.
"Kylen," he called. "Be careful. Kylen."
Her eyes were wide in terror, Kylen wasn't about to stop.
"Order her. Make it an order." McQueen called from his place at the top of the stairs.
"Kylen Alexa Celina - Stop!" Christian called. A light seemed to go on in Kylen's brain. She hesitated, slowed, but she did not stop.
McQueen and Aislen had reached the window. "Will I spend my entire life chasing after West and Celina?" he thought. It was clear to him that Christian was unused to giving such orders, and even more unused to them being obeyed by his own daughter - let alone one of his sisters.
"Celina - NOW - SIT - NOW." McQueen ordered from the window. It was another familiar and more immediate voice of comfort. A voice of safety to her mind, and more importantly, it was a familiar order. Kylen sat immediately and burst into tears.
Christian moved slowly towards his little sister. As he got closer he crouched down low until he was kneeling beside her. "Kylen? ... Kylen?".... Mouse?" he said softly.
"Christian?" she whispered. "Christian ... I kept waiting for you to come for me I waited for over a year for you to come for me Christian, I was so scared." Kylen looked up at him through her hair and slowly reached out to touch his cheek. "You are here," she whispered and smiled. She reached out with her other hand and cupped his face. "I missed you so much Christian."
Christian smiled and covered her hands.
Kylen threw her arms around her brother, who rocked her back and forth.
McQueen exhaled deeply. He wasn't needed any longer. He turned from the window to join the crowd downstairs. The absence of so many people would create questions. Aislen stopped him mid turn. She reached out to touch his face. McQueen was horrified to realize that before he could stop himself, he had rather harshly grabbed her wrist to prevent her touch. It had been a reflex.
Aislen at once understood his reticence - touching someone's face could be an intensely personal, intimate gesture - but it was also an act of genuine affection and acceptance. She felt that it was a gift she could give him. She sweetly smiled and reached out her other hand, which she gently placed on McQueen's cheek. He accepted her touch.
"Stick her in some warm water," McQueen gruffly suggested. He let go of Aislen's arm, embarrassed.
"I see, you know my little sister," Aislen said with infinite patience and affection. "The cure for anything is warm water, huh?"
"'Salt water - sweat, tears, or the sea.' Isak Dinesen, I think," McQueen corrected quietly as he moved away from her.
"You do know my little sister," Aislen said knowingly.
McQueen turned and went down the hallway and the stairs.
Out on the roof, Kylen clung to Christian as he helped her to stand.
"I was so scared." She spoke into his shoulder.
"I know, Mouse," he comforted.
Kylen shook her head. "No. I meant just now. I thought that they had come for me again - had come for everyone. I'm sorry I messed things up."
Christian could think of nothing to say, so he just held her tightly.
"I'm so tired of being afraid," Kylen looked up at him.
Aislen followed McQueen's advice and put her sister into a hot tub. Christian went downstairs, got himself and McQueen stiff drinks - and told anyone who asked that Kylen was, yet again, taking another bath and Aislen was with her doing the 'girl talk' thing.
*************
The bath had been warm, fragrant, and therapeutic. Kylen was once again herself, and she and Aislen were talking while Kylen dressed in a Greenbrier sweatsuit. Aislen was at the window.
"Where is Colonel McQueen?" Kylen asked.
"Out back by the pond," Aislen answered.
"Oh, checking out the scene of my crime?" Kylen asked.
"I think he needed to get away from all of us," Aislen said.
Kylen moved to the window and looked down at the pond, which was illuminated by a lamp on a tall pole. McQueen was sitting on the bench just visible in the shadows.
"He seems so alone - more than just being by himself," Aislen remarked.
"Hmmmm," Kylen agreed.
"Show me a hero and I'll write you a tragedy," Aislen murmured.
"Not if I can help it," Kylen said softly, matching her sister's volume.
"You don't think he has read either of the Brontes' do you?" Aislen asked still looking down at McQueen.
"That was Fitzgerald not Bronte, Aislen, and I really doubt it. I hope not. I think that he already has a surprisingly romantic view of his place in the cosmos." Kylen considered the man sitting in the shadows. "He does kind of put you in mind of Rochester down there doesn't he?" She chuckled to herself, imagining his reaction to the image. And thankful that the Bronte sisters seemed like a long shot at best. "Has he read them? Oh, I should think not. He would think them ridiculous. He is a very practical man."
"Should I send someone out there to fetch him?" Aislen asked.
"He's a big boy, Aislen. He can find his way home after dark."
End Chapter Twenty-five
Literary Giants M.Wheels
