PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM
Chapter 4
AUTHOR: TowandaBR, Thisbee, Lady Cris Krux
DISCLAIMER: All of the characters of the series "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World" are property of John Landis, Telescene, Coote/Hayes, DirecTV, New Line Television, Space, Action Adventure Network, Goodman/Rosen Productions, and Richmel Productions.
SPOILERS: After HEART OF THE STORM
To all people who keep TLW alive by any means.
Roxana, thanks for your kindness. To all the others: thanks for all your reviews!
Also in Portuguese: "PRIMORDIUM NULLA RETRORSUM"
George Challenger got down from the trolley and stopped, looking at the building in front of him: a two-store house built in wood and stone.
After hesitating for some minutes, he pushed the iron gate, but at first he didn't manage to open it. One of the hinges had broken, and the large gate dragged in the ground. Besides, it was rusty. He used a piece of wood as a lever, and finally managed to open the gate, entering in the garden.
The place was covered with dead vegetation and infested by weeds, greenflies, caterpillars, acaroids and ants. The scientist dwelled on right the center and closed his eyes for a moment. In his mind he saw the small, but beautiful garden, punctuated by pruned vegetation, filled of roses, marigolds, iris, geraniums, and dracaenas. By the small fountain, as one of his little home-made experiences, George had developed the culture of hydroponics plants.
He climbed the three steps that gave access to the balcony. He stopped before the heavy hardwood door, so different now, gnawed by the termites. Only a light push was enough to open it, giving him access to the interior of the house.
Everything that he could see illuminated only by the sunbeams that penetrated through the windows' gap was covered by a thin layer of dust and spider's webs.
He began his pilgrimage by the hall. He looked at the stairways and closed his eyes, remembering his Jessie, whose splendorous vision in a purple silk dress had made him to forget how late they were for the solemnity of his project recognition.
In the living room, he recalled the winter nights, when they were in company of one another, reading a book under the cozy light of the fireplace, changing accomplice smiles and mature passion looks.
In his cabinet, to the left of the entrance door, the scientist, concentrated in his work, suddenly noticed a cup of black cherries tea with home-made cookies or a piece of nut cake in front of him. She knew as nobody to make him feel important.
In the dining room, he delighted eating fish, potatoes and the delicious dessert made of green apples.
In the kitchen, the man recalled the countless times when he received a disapproval glance from his wife, when using their stove for his experiences, what almost always destroyed some utensil, dirtied the dependences or left an unbearable smell all around the house. As a naughty boy, he ran for her, kissed her cheek and fled far away from there. Only after he left she allowed herself a stealthy smile.
He went upstairs until the couple's room, sat down on the floor, exactly in the same place where their bed used to be located. He closed his eyes once more and could almost feel the soft touch of the only woman capable to fill out his life.
George was surprised when feeling the heat of a lonely tear slowly falling through his face. Something was missed at that house. The laughter of the children that would have made their lives complete. The children he didn't allow himself – or Jessie – to have.
At first, when he received the news about his Jessie, he hesitated on what decision he should take.
The news about a massacre of Challenger's expedition had been desolated for her – after all, people had never had any news about any survivor of that kind of attack. The information had been given by other loaders that, weeks later, found the remaining bodies already impossible of be identified, except for the clothes.
She still waited for two years, even hopeless, for any news that some explorer, and mainly George, could still be alive.
The expedition would be dangerous, and exactly for that, Challenger had left all of the properties and belongings under his wife's administration. If anything ever happened to him, she would have a way to survive.
Even though, she just sold things that were not essential to her, and mainly of those that brought back bitter memories to her. Feeling the loneliness height over her heart, she used her good education and decided to live on being governess in wealthy family homes.
Since then, a new Jess was born, owning her own life completely. The same life that had been originally tied to her father, and, later on, after her marriage, tied to the scientist. The world was finally open to her, and she met new people, as interesting as the scientist friends of her husband.
When her youngest sister (much younger than she) and husband suddenly died in Australia, leaving four small children alone, Jessie took for herself the responsibility of raising them up, and for there she moved to take care of the small ones to whom she dedicated as if they were truly her own children.
With Challenger she had learned what was companionship and love. Without him, she found out what was to be complete.
"You're happy, aren't you dear?" – the scientist asked to himself, as if he wanted the wind to take his words until her, now very distant from there.
He closed the door of what had once been his house. That was another turned page in life, and George decided he had no right to interfere. He would continue his life as well as Jessie was continuing hers.
"Goodbye, Jessie."
Challenger moved to a small city in the countryside. There he taught classes in the local school, where very often people asked him why somebody holding the impressive academic credentials would teach in that godforsaken place.
"Fresh air." – He answered.
Amazingly as it could seem, it was at least partially true.
When he was not teaching, he could walk freely trying to meet again even a small portion of all the marvelous things he had face one day. Science was not as interesting in the civilized world as it used to be, and that caused him tedious due to the lack of mystery.
Seating on the grass, he laugh as if he remembered their mad rush to escape from a raptor or other animal. Or as if recalling the delicious and warm discussions with Summerlee, each one of them defending passionately their point of view. Sometimes they even agreed, but none of them would give in. It was more entertaining to pick on each other.
But Summerlee wasn't among them anymore. And that town in the countryside, in spite of the vegetation and the fresh air, was not – and would never be – the Lost World...
TO BE CONTINUED...
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