Disclaimer: Characters from Tarzan belong to Edgar Rice Burroughs & Disney. Any other characters and/or descriptions belong to me.
Chapter 2 – Mr. William C. Clayton
Catching hold of the banister, I started up the staircase and made it upstairs, opening my bedroom door and stepping inside. Dropping my sketchbook on the bedside table, I went around the place and tidied things up a little. So often my messes got the better of me. I sighed as loose strands of my hair slipped out of the 'neatened' style I tried to accomplish every other day. Blast this wind, sometimes, I thought to myself, a small growl of frustration escaping. It seems like it's always getting the better of me.
I straightened myself out as best as I could, and made for Daddy's office across the hall. The condition of the room surprised me to an extent every time, although I always prepared for it. Goodness, I wondered as I glanced fleetingly around the room. I forget how disorganised Daddy can be when he wants to – or at least, when he's headlong into his studies, no less.
"Um...Daddy?" I asked, hoping to turn my attention away from the countless higgledy-piggledy piles of papers. "Hello, sorry to, uh - "
My father looked to be in deep, serious thought. His head was bowed, and he was flicking a pencil against the low corners of his moustache; chew marks all over the base. Although I could not see his face all that well, I could see the creases in his forehead; signs of an attentive frown.
" – bother you," I finished, clenching my teeth together. I had to admit, I was still rather worried about him. What a mess he was choosing to live in...
"Quite all right," Daddy muttered without even looking up. "Where have you been, Jane? I have been fretting, you know."
Well, at least he remembers I went out, I smiled. Perhaps there is hope for him yet. I scratched my nose broodingly, my other hand reaching out for a spare document on the table. I scanned it with my eyes as I spoke.
"Oh, nowhere...of great importance," I lied uneasily, my thoughts elsewhere again. "I am sorry, I should have been a little more specific earlier."
Heavens, my thoughts were saying as I read the research over carefully. I felt myself becoming rather absorbed in the descriptions, and the key links. There was so much...passion in his writing. It really did pull an audience in. Has Daddy ever considered publishing some of his ideas? I wondered to myself. No wonder Mother always said that his work was a pursuit into his emotions.
Daddy's confused voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "Did it rain?"
I darted away from my daydreaming and glanced up quickly. "Oh – oh, yes. Yes it did...rain, I can see why you asked that..." I briefly shot some attention towards the bottom of my damp skirts and hair, and pulling an uncomfortable smile, I placed the paper back onto the desk.
He didn't even notice the weather, I laughed in my head. It came down thundering so, too!
Lifting his head up out of his palms at last, Daddy read over his notes. That was, if you could call them notes. They seemed so scattered and scribbled that I could barely tell if they were words or diagrams. He "um"ed and "ah"ed for a while to himself too, another sign of his concentration.
"Oh, blast this infernal calculation!" he finally cried out, crumpling the paper into a tight ball and letting it drop in the folded mess around him. "I'll never be able to figure it out. All morning that's kept me busy!"
I half expected him to spit on it in disgust. But his outbursts like this were not uncommon in the Porter household. His frustration was known to lead him down different paths from time to time, it was something that Mother and I had grown to be used to.
I giggled a little, breaking the tension. "Admitting defeat, Daddy?"
"Oh, I suppose I'll have to, although I was rather looking forward to grasping that explanation by the throat – in physical terms, of course," he said, slumping back into his seat limply. "I just keep getting closer and closer to that goal, Janey, and every time it's within reach it somehow manages to slip away again."
Janey. It was a pet name that he first used on me when I was four. It's managed to keep itself in the family as much as Daddy's rages, I see, I told myself humorously. My heart went out for him more than I expected. I hated seeing him so unhappy. He put his sweat and blood into his work, pouring out hours of countless effort.
If only he would let me help sometimes...I would place as much passion and spirit behind his projects – I knew I would! He just...always persists that he can manage alone. Perhaps he secretly thought I had no devotion in his own interests. Pfft, I huffed in my head. Well, how will he ever know if he constantly diverts himself from it?
"You mustn't give up." My voice sounded pathetic and small.
Daddy smiled at me thankfully. "Oh, Jane, I know I shouldn't really, but when you approach certain blockades like this! - " He thrust the pyramid mass of crumpled balls into the air – "You just never imagine...you just don't consider ever reaching the other side – it seems impossible!"
It wasn't the first time he had said these words. I gave him a meek smile of encouragement, wanting to move around the desk and place a hand upon his shoulder. But in the end, decided not to. He was not in the best mood, as far as general opinions went.
"Nothing is impossible if you set your mind to it," I spoke, repeating the words that Mother often found a credit to relief. Instantly, despite the wisdom behind the sentence, I felt a rush of embarrassment flood me from head to toe. I suppressed a cough and stared out of the window absent-mindedly.
What is it with me this morning? I wondered curiously. Everything that seems to spurt out of my mouth sounds like something out of a movie! So tasteless, so...cheap – at least when its spoken by none other than myself...otherwise it would be perfectly fine! Guh – rambling again!
"Yes, yes, you are absolutely right!" Daddy exclaimed, obviously without noticing my focused attention to the cobblestones outside. He pointed a finger at me in agreement, finally rising from his chair and carefully finding his way around the desk without tripping. His clumsiness was noticeable in most circumstances, and had unfortunately been passed onto my own qualities.
I was not the most graceful person in the world, to put it short. It's one of my 'character flaws' as my cousin June likes to put it. She reckons that flaws make a person interesting, as she has gladly pointed out many times. So many times...
"I have thought the very same thing!" Daddy continued, hopping around on one leg across the floor (it was very hard not to laugh, I must admit). "Which is why I have arranged for someone to visit today – well, actually I arranged it two weeks ago and forgot to mention the details, very sorry about that – but apparently, he is a wondrous expert on this certain scientific field, and we should be able to have a proper discussion with him on the matter – oh dear." He eventually stopped when his foot landed in the waste paper basket.
Through Daddy's babbling, (which I was quite used to by now) I had picked up some vital information.
He has...arranged for someone to visit...today? I was rather shocked, to be honest. I knew that my father had a poor memory at times, but I had figured that he would have least remembered this...
"What?" I found myself saying. "Someone is arriving to the house today?"
"Precisely," said Daddy, struggling to pull the basket off his leg.
"But – but, hold on, Daddy," I stammered, still trying to grasp sense of the situation at hand. "I still have no idea what this has to do with "nothing is impossible if you set your mind to it" – oh, why did I have to say that?" I finished meekly, the last part directed to myself. I placed a palm to my forehead and attempted to focus on what Daddy was saying. Mother's words had landed me in something completely different than expected.
So much for being a credit to relief, I thought, with irony.
"Who is it?" I asked carefully, just as Daddy wiggled free of his 'prison' with a pop and an "oomph" of surprise. Coughing, he stood up as though nothing had happened, except to brush himself down with an embarrassed chuckle. It was times like these that the fleeting thought shot through my head of Daddy belonging to a performance on a stage.
Now is probably not the best time to daydream, Jane.
"His name is William C. Clayton," Daddy explained. "He was forwarded to me by an acclaimed word-of-mouth, who considers he is just the right man for the job. He is also Greystoke – the Lord Greystoke. He is, in fact, an esteemed person for such an expedition as this."
Expedition?
The word stung in my head. It should have been the one I questioned, for Daddy was not making himself clear again, but somehow I found myself speaking quite differently.
"That seems incredible," I said, "Being that everyone knows the heir of Greystoke has disappeared – vanished into thin air, more like. How did they discover that this...William Clayton was the root of the inheritance?"
"They didn't!" Daddy said, shockingly. "He did! Apparently he came to the fortunes with excellent proof, and they took his word for it, although he refused to show this proof to anyone outside of the authorities. Besides, Janey, what does it matter what his title is? This man is a cultivated expert on gorilla habitats! Absolutely perfect for the journey!"
Perfect. Daddy had never even met the man before. He could be anyone. I was known to always be a little suspicious around strangers, especially if they were to carry such a high honour as 'Lord Greystoke', oh yes, I was! I was usually known to be delivered with cold looks from the richly esteemed upper class, as if I were a girl wanting to be part of it, trying too hard with gaudy styles and trimmings.
"Wait, Daddy – you said "journey"... "expedition"!" I cried out, helpfully moving the chair aside so he could scoot past. "Why are you saying these things?"
It isn't like Daddy to go abroad and leave, just like that, I told myself.
"Why, Jane!" he coughed. "Have I not already explained it to you? The gorilla research is to take place in the magnificent jungles of deepest Africa!"
I felt the world spin beneath me. At that moment, time stopped.
"What?" I heard myself whisper. "Africa?"
-xXx-
William C. Clayton arrived that afternoon, around four o'clock. I heard the banging at the door, and was instantly filled with the image of a snooty aristocrat, with a large handlebar moustache and top hat, complete with coattails and a polished walking stick. I could even hear his voice:
"Oh, marvellous! My old bean, this is simply splendid!"
I suppressed a giggle at the thought. Something in my senses confirmed that Mr. Clayton was just going to be rather different from other polite young gentlemen. I sighed and blew back a piece of hair (another irritating habit of yours truly), following Daddy down the stairs to answer the door.
"B-but, Daddy!" I started. "Africa? Isn't it a little extreme...for you, I mean?"
"Nonsense!" he replied back, wafting me with his hand and releasing another laugh. "Why I'm always ready for a challenge, if I do say so myself! I'm as fit as a fiddle! Healthy as a horse! Stronger than a - " His foot missed the next stair, cutting him off, and skipping my heart a beat.
Ohhh, Daddy... The thought of him in the jungle was impossible to imagine. He wasn't the best explorer, and also had a habit of wandering off, intrigued by his curiosity if he spotted a butterfly, for Heaven's sake! I would worry to death if he went on this journey. I worry about him all the time, I realised. Good gracious, I sound like a mothering nanny!
I was about to point out another remark, but held myself back at the last minute. I had just reached the bottom of the staircase when the door opened, causing Daddy to stand back and make a grand, but unusual gesture with his hand. I peered around the corner with inquisitive eyes, my palms clasped behind my back.
"Superior afternoon, Clayton!" he said, with a smile. "Glad you could make it."
I stared, watching our guest walk into the hallway, and frowned in surprise. To my astonishment, he was a complete opposite to the character I had created in my imagination from the first mention of his name. He was a sturdy man, with a broad chin and small, beady black eyes. He had a moustache all right, but it certainly was no handlebar. His dark hair was slicked back onto his head, flecked with areas of grey around his ears, defining his age group.
His clothing was rather fancy indeed, but no coattails, or top hat were to be seen. Instead, he wore a buttoned jacket, and carried with him a dark umbrella, to keep out of the rain. It seemed, to me, that he was dark all over. He brought a funny coldness into the house that was difficult to shake off at first.
Brr. He certainly cannot bring himself to light a fire, I thought rather rudely, and was glad that I had not said it aloud. I directed my attention to the carpet, and tried not to let my eyes wander too much. Clayton was making me feel quite uncomfortable, but not a pleasant kind – I did not like it at all.
His eyes feel as though they are piercing me through...like burning pokers, I thought, fidgeting a little. Oh, I hope he does not talk to me much...
"If a dreary downpour of great quantity is what you call 'superior', Professor, I would agree with you," Clayton said, with dryness in his voice. "We however, all have our own opinions." He spurted out his last words in revulsion, as he shook the loose raindrops from the umbrella outside.
I tried my hardest not to scrunch my nose up in one corner, which I often did when I was analysing something. His voice was perhaps the only factor I ever came close to, it was a deep, very refined type of voice, and although he didn't quite speak as intended in my thoughts, I could still feel a rumbling tremor of threat in the throat beneath that broad chin.
"Bl-ast this London chill!" he almost roared, shutting the door behind him with a dull bang, shutting out the dreary streets.
Daddy and I winched slightly, jumping from the noise. How indecorous!
"May I take your - " Daddy began, letting Clayton place his soaking wet coat across his outstretched arms. The weight and length that draped over my father's head almost pulled him to the ground. Shakily, he made his way towards the coat rack and struggled to hang it up, trembling on tiptoe. I stared in bewilderment at the insolence of it all.
I frowned after Clayton, and without even considering my place, felt my voice rise up from my chest and address itself loud on the air.
"Excuse me, have you no decorum? He is your host!"
Clayton turned about slowly, as if looking me up and down with a bad taste in his mouth. His eyebrows lifted, turning his lips into a thin sneer. It was not the most pleasant picture to see, and that was for a fact.
"My dear young lady," he snarled, not too politely, "I would advise you to keep your comments to yourself for the time being. Professor Porter and I are about to discuss something of great importance, that perhaps you are too...ahem, busy to consider any thought to. Why don't you toddle off now and go...read or something? Our matters don't concern you, I'm afraid."
What in Heaven's name is that supposed to mean? I thought to myself, a little haughtily than I had wanted it to sound in my head. He's...he's actually saying...
"Excuse me?" I said again, my voice rather hushed this time.
But Clayton chose not to answer my question. He must have realised that by proving my manners to stand at the door and welcome him into the house, I would at least have some interest in the matter of Daddy travelling to Africa! I certainly was not going to be bunched up into the corner of a room with a book or sewing needle, when my father's safety was in hand – oh, goodness, I'm doing it again! Worry, worry...worry.
I glared at him behind his back, helping Daddy back onto his feet after falling under the coat rack. He seemed quite flustered, but pleased with himself that he had successfully managed to get Clayton's button jacket up there in the end. I shuffled my skirts out of the way of the puddles on the floor, and followed suit.
"Oh – oh, Clayton!" Daddy cried out, straightening the bow tie on his shirt. "Have you managed to make the acquaintance of my daughter Jane? Why, she was just telling me earlier about how she was looking forward to meeting you personally, weren't you, dear?"
Was I? I kept my mouth shut, shooting Daddy a look as if to suggest: "Where did you hear that?", and only managed a meek smile to offer towards Clayton himself. However, he was so far ahead in front that he was almost halfway into the living room, and never even noticed I'd blinked an eyelid. I suppressed a moan of disgruntled anger at his behaviour. I'm trying, I really am...
"Tea, Professor," Clayton beckoned from inside the other room. "Then we can talk."
-xXx-
Clayton seemed very fraught to get on with the meeting. Once the tea had been poured and everybody was comfortably settled, he was constantly dropping hints to bring up the subject of Africa, some all too obvious, especially when he began to point at portraits upon the wall ("I hear her ancestors are from Sudan"), and claiming that Daddy's maps of South America were not as impressive in size as...well, you guessed it. Africa. I was amazed that my father had not caught up on all of these facts, but merely listened as though fascinated.
I could see Clayton's patience beginning to wear thin. Acting quickly, I shot up to his side with the teapot in hand.
"More tea, Mr. Clayton?" I asked, as politely as I could, but still controlling a reluctant smile...which I wasn't sure for what purpose. Perhaps to settle the atmosphere, I suppose. The last thing I wanted was for both gentlemen to be shouting odds across the room.
"Oh, thank you," Clayton said dismissively, not even looking up, and letting me pour the hot liquid into his cup.
Perhaps you would have considered my presence if I had mistakenly tipped it into your lap, I thought, presenting a sickly sweet grin behind his head. 'Mistakenly' being the heightened word there, of course. I quickly sat back down in my seat before Clayton's rage began to fire up again. I knew that I was being ridiculous. I had barely given him a chance, really...and usually I took some time to know strangers. But...his attitude felt so...arrogant and unenthusiastic that I could not help myself.
"Let's continue with the subject, shall we, Professor?" he moved on, with a strain in his voice as he sipped at his tea. "You will be pleased to hear that I have made arrangements for the coach and shipping crew to take you to the required destinations on January 30th, our departing date. The coach will be collecting you from your house at ten o'clock sharp in the morning, and will take you down to the docks for the midday ship leave."
"January 30th?" Daddy repeated, sinking back into his chair. "That's a Saturday, isn't it?"
"Precisely," said Clayton, crossing his legs and leaning forward. "The preparations are all set. In less than another two weeks you will be heading out across the ocean blue, towards those outstanding jungles you get so excited about. I myself will accompany you on your journey. Now as it happens, I feel as though we have not fully talked about the extent of your research. Is it merely just the habitats you will be studying?"
Daddy shifted in his chair. "I would presume so, Clayton – you can't possibly expect us to catch a sighting of a gorilla? That would be a rare treat indeed!"
I flattened out the layers in my dress, looking back and forth between them both, wishing I could say something. The whole idea sounded so thrilling! Oh, how I long for Daddy to take me with him! I have always wanted to go and take off to a new and different land – just as the adventurers did in my books! But, no...Daddy would never approve of that. I would have to take care of the house, and sit, and tidy...and catch up on the news with old friends.
I saw Clayton give a shifty smile. "Oh, what a shame. I was counting on seeing the magnificent beasts for myself," he said, placing his now empty cup on the tableside. His lip twitched as he settled his hand onto the armrest, staring in my direction with a sturdy grin.
I darted my eyes away, not wanting to make contact. The last thing I wanted right now was for Clayton to rub in the fact that I was not going too. He knew I wanted this adventure so much – he could see I wanted it. It was a chilling, scary feeling to have, thinking that someone could see into your soul and reveal your innermost feelings. It left my mind reeling and I suddenly felt trapped.
Then...just like that – he said it.
"Have you regarded taking your daughter too, on this trip?" he asked my father, one eye watching me carefully out of its corner. "It could be a real experience for the girl. One needs such exhilaration for them to exceed in life. Wouldn't you say?" I noticed that one hand constantly rubbed his chin in thought as he spoke.
Can this be true? Clayton...I cannot believe he is suggesting this! I thought that...
Daddy's answer was quite muddled, as though he could not make up his mind. "Well...yes, that's true – but not for Jane!" he said. She is too young, I think, for this kind of ordeal, but...well; it is up for her to decide..." He turned towards me, his face in a curious frown. "What do you reckon, Janey?"
I tried to avoid Clayton's snicker at my nickname, staring back into Daddy's eyes with what felt like an elated grin on my face. What do I reckon? What do I... oh, gosh! Daddy, you must take me to Africa with you! I hear it's so beautiful...and the jungles are supposed to be lovely this time of year! And gorillas... I trailed off in my thoughts, trying in those few seconds to remind myself of all the research I had read on the creatures. I wasn't sure why, perhaps to prove myself worthy of going, I suppose.
"I would love to go!" I replied cheerfully, clutching my father's arm in joy. I could have laughed in glee, I felt so happy. "Oh – thank you for giving me this opportunity! I promise you I'll be careful – you won't have to worry about me at all, I assure you..." I was unsure how long I sat there, pouring out my thanks. My eyes hurt a little afterwards though, perhaps from scrunching up too much from delight. It was still taking a while for me to realise the situation.
I'm really going...
"There! Would you look at that!" Clayton exclaimed, as Daddy brought my shoulders into a warm hug. "You see what happens when you present her with a voyage to an overgrown forest? She laughs, she speaks! She lights up the room! A remarkable change in the girl who provided us with tea."
I was too wrapped up in contentment to persist any more talk on his remark. I was still trying to control my heart from pounding too hard – it was happening! It was really happening for me. I had not felt such a release of strain for a long time.
"Thank you, Daddy!" I almost sang with pleasure. "You don't know how much this means to me!"
Finally! I thought, eagerly. I get to have a real adventure!
I did not mind serving the tea for the rest of that night, either.