A/n: Alas... I am finished with the story. Thank you to all who read it. I
hope you liked it. And thanx for the reviews! Thanx Latanya Kassidy for
the review to! I am glad you don't think its corny!
Chapter 7: Never understand
25 years later Zan's POV:
Here I am in Roswell, New Mexico. My birthtown, I think. Its taken me years, but I have finally tracked down my father. And though I was adopted when I was one, and now I am twenty – seven years old, I can still see his face in my head. Like a memory, I stored with me, because somehow I knew I would never see him again.
From the information, I have gathered, I believe he still lives here, or at least his parents, my biological grandparents do. A Mr. and Mrs. Phillip Evans. I look at the address I have on my paperwork, my research.
I can feel my palms sweating, I know I am getting closer. Closer to learning about who I am, and where I am from. God, I never thought I could be this nervous about anything in my life.
Parking my car, I can see there house. Hello, my name is Alexander Jacobson, I am wondering if your are the parents to a Mr. Maxwell Evans... that sounds right, that sounds good. Its formal, and inquisitive. And if it's the wrong house, its obvious that I don't know what they look like soo... Oh God, here I go.
The sound of knocking on the door is echoing in my ears.. what if they aren't home. Maybe I should go. Is that someone walking towards the door I hear.
"Hello"- A woman answers the door, she looks old, and little sad. Her eyes look at me with a curious and slightly quizativeness to them. "Hi, um... I'm Alexander Jacobson, but everyone calls me Zan, and I was just wondering if you were umm related to a uh.. Mr. Maxwell Evans"- I some how stutter through. Her eyes tense up. "He was my son"- she informs me, was?? Did I hear here correctly? How can he be a was? "So, your Mrs. Diane Evans? It's a pleasure to meet you, I am.. wondering if you could tell me Mr. Maxwell Evan's ... uh I mean... I am his son"- O god, I just said it. I feel like a weight has been taken off my chest. This women, my grandmother, I can see tears forming in her eyes. Tears that she is trying to hold back. "O well come on it, I mean look at me keeping you at the door like that. You'll have to excuse me about that, over the years, I have more trouble just letting anyone in"- She rambles, then she just looks at me. "I don't trust many strangers, but my god, you look just like him. You have more of his features then your mothers." She just stares for a little while, though I feel very uncomfortable just standing in the foyer of her house, I understand. "Well, what can I do for you, Zan right?"- She asks, pulling her eyes away from me. "I have been able to track my father to here, but I have no definite location of him, and I was just wondering if you knew where I could find him?"- she's avoiding looking at me now. Did I say something wrong? "I am very sorry but, but he died 25 years ago."- She informs me gently, my heart just sinks. She grabs a picture with a group of people in it. And points to my father, that one is Max. Everyone in this picture is now dead. Looking at it I see him, the man from my memory, and I see a girls face I recognize too. "Who is that?"- I ask "Oh that's Liz, she and Max got married right after high school"- she says this with a bittersweet tone. "Would you like to see them? Their gravestones I mean"- She hands me the picture and gets up a grabs her jacket and keys, as if I have no choice but to follow.
At the Gravesite...
I am still clutching the picture in my hand. I see that six of the seven are died on the same day. And I read all of their grave stones, even the tops. I can feel the tears wanting to come, but why should I cry over people who have been dead for 25 years, and I never met any of them. "Is she, my mother?"- I ask pointing to the grave next to my father. At least they were in love, and I wasn't a mistake. "No, your mother died right before you were put to be adopted. When she got pregnant, she ran. Max and her had planned to get an apartment, but she just got scared and ran. Max searched for you, but then Tess, your mother, came back with you. But no to shortly afterwards she died in a fire. At that time, Max's life was so unstable that he knew he couldn't raise you. He said it was a difficult decision, but it wasn't the hardest decision he'd made, or have to make. Because he knew your life would be better that way." –She looks at me and studies me... I can feel her eyes bearing into me. "If he'd have kept you, Liz, she would have been your mom. Liz, she was a wonderful girl, and even though you weren't hers, in the few short weeks that we had you, she treated you like you were her own... I'll tell you what I'll wait in the car, come down when your ready and what ever questions you have I'll answer when we get back" – She says and I can hear her backing away.
God, they were only twenty, and twenty one. My god, they were so young. When I was that age, I thought I was immortal.
The tears that I don't want to shed I can feel on my face now. And the slight breeze tries to calm me, but I can't I don't know what this feeling inside me is. I have never felt it before. But its strong. I look at the picture. I see Maxwell, or as Diane called him Max, and I see Liz. They look happy. Did they die happy? I suppose she wouldn't know.
What is this feeling, a mix of anger, of regret, remorse, power. I don't understand. And now staring at his grave, I'll never understand.
Chapter 7: Never understand
25 years later Zan's POV:
Here I am in Roswell, New Mexico. My birthtown, I think. Its taken me years, but I have finally tracked down my father. And though I was adopted when I was one, and now I am twenty – seven years old, I can still see his face in my head. Like a memory, I stored with me, because somehow I knew I would never see him again.
From the information, I have gathered, I believe he still lives here, or at least his parents, my biological grandparents do. A Mr. and Mrs. Phillip Evans. I look at the address I have on my paperwork, my research.
I can feel my palms sweating, I know I am getting closer. Closer to learning about who I am, and where I am from. God, I never thought I could be this nervous about anything in my life.
Parking my car, I can see there house. Hello, my name is Alexander Jacobson, I am wondering if your are the parents to a Mr. Maxwell Evans... that sounds right, that sounds good. Its formal, and inquisitive. And if it's the wrong house, its obvious that I don't know what they look like soo... Oh God, here I go.
The sound of knocking on the door is echoing in my ears.. what if they aren't home. Maybe I should go. Is that someone walking towards the door I hear.
"Hello"- A woman answers the door, she looks old, and little sad. Her eyes look at me with a curious and slightly quizativeness to them. "Hi, um... I'm Alexander Jacobson, but everyone calls me Zan, and I was just wondering if you were umm related to a uh.. Mr. Maxwell Evans"- I some how stutter through. Her eyes tense up. "He was my son"- she informs me, was?? Did I hear here correctly? How can he be a was? "So, your Mrs. Diane Evans? It's a pleasure to meet you, I am.. wondering if you could tell me Mr. Maxwell Evan's ... uh I mean... I am his son"- O god, I just said it. I feel like a weight has been taken off my chest. This women, my grandmother, I can see tears forming in her eyes. Tears that she is trying to hold back. "O well come on it, I mean look at me keeping you at the door like that. You'll have to excuse me about that, over the years, I have more trouble just letting anyone in"- She rambles, then she just looks at me. "I don't trust many strangers, but my god, you look just like him. You have more of his features then your mothers." She just stares for a little while, though I feel very uncomfortable just standing in the foyer of her house, I understand. "Well, what can I do for you, Zan right?"- She asks, pulling her eyes away from me. "I have been able to track my father to here, but I have no definite location of him, and I was just wondering if you knew where I could find him?"- she's avoiding looking at me now. Did I say something wrong? "I am very sorry but, but he died 25 years ago."- She informs me gently, my heart just sinks. She grabs a picture with a group of people in it. And points to my father, that one is Max. Everyone in this picture is now dead. Looking at it I see him, the man from my memory, and I see a girls face I recognize too. "Who is that?"- I ask "Oh that's Liz, she and Max got married right after high school"- she says this with a bittersweet tone. "Would you like to see them? Their gravestones I mean"- She hands me the picture and gets up a grabs her jacket and keys, as if I have no choice but to follow.
At the Gravesite...
I am still clutching the picture in my hand. I see that six of the seven are died on the same day. And I read all of their grave stones, even the tops. I can feel the tears wanting to come, but why should I cry over people who have been dead for 25 years, and I never met any of them. "Is she, my mother?"- I ask pointing to the grave next to my father. At least they were in love, and I wasn't a mistake. "No, your mother died right before you were put to be adopted. When she got pregnant, she ran. Max and her had planned to get an apartment, but she just got scared and ran. Max searched for you, but then Tess, your mother, came back with you. But no to shortly afterwards she died in a fire. At that time, Max's life was so unstable that he knew he couldn't raise you. He said it was a difficult decision, but it wasn't the hardest decision he'd made, or have to make. Because he knew your life would be better that way." –She looks at me and studies me... I can feel her eyes bearing into me. "If he'd have kept you, Liz, she would have been your mom. Liz, she was a wonderful girl, and even though you weren't hers, in the few short weeks that we had you, she treated you like you were her own... I'll tell you what I'll wait in the car, come down when your ready and what ever questions you have I'll answer when we get back" – She says and I can hear her backing away.
God, they were only twenty, and twenty one. My god, they were so young. When I was that age, I thought I was immortal.
The tears that I don't want to shed I can feel on my face now. And the slight breeze tries to calm me, but I can't I don't know what this feeling inside me is. I have never felt it before. But its strong. I look at the picture. I see Maxwell, or as Diane called him Max, and I see Liz. They look happy. Did they die happy? I suppose she wouldn't know.
What is this feeling, a mix of anger, of regret, remorse, power. I don't understand. And now staring at his grave, I'll never understand.