Doldrums
Buchanan's Townhouse
Georgetown
3:15 pm
The light filtered through the gap between the thick maroon and red curtains covering the cathedral windows in the Buchanan living room in Georgetown. In it, one could see an ample room with comfortable looking sofas, with colorful throw blankets arranged haphazardly on a side table. The interior decor was a mismatched collection of pieces chosen more for their comfort than for their looks, as they could withstand the passage of time and of eager little sticky fingers from newer generations.
Further down, close to the access door to the kitchen and separated from the living area by an ornate wooden room divider, there was a small bar, in ash wood, and a very big birch wood dining table, surrounded by several chairs, in the same birch wood used on the floors. Back in the living area, a low centerpiece table was between two three seat sofas, one facing the other, and a large ottoman rug covered the birch wood floor. But what really dominated the room was the big fireplace, with its ornate black marble mantelpiece, a reminder of the old days when this house hadn't yet been fitted with electricity, and cold nights sitting by the fire were the center of the family life.
There was also, on the floor right before the fireplace, McGee's bearskin, a silent reminder of past adversities overcome in the most adverse circumstances.
A huge mirror dominated the space above the fireplace, giving the impression of an even bigger area, and over the mantel several pictures of several Buchanan members were displayed.
There was the noise of keys in the door, and the door opens. Joy entered the townhouse, and guided Matthew to the living room. They dropped their coats and jackets carelessly on the sofa, and Matthew dropped his body like a potato sack on the leather sofa beside the fireplace, leaned forward and supported his elbows on his knees. He rubbed his face tiredly with his hands, touching the scratches made by a hysterical Sarah gingerly. He flexes his hurt hand, that Sarah bit in a desperate effort to free herself from his grasp.
"Wanna eat something?" Joy asks Matthew, who doesn't even look up at her to answer.
"No," he closes his eyes, and leans back on the sofa. Joy looks at her watch, it's only three-twenty, and she already feels exhausted. She goes to the fireplace, kneels and silently starts a fire.
Once the fire is roaring, she stands up.
"Wanna talk about it?"
"No," he answers sullenly. Joy nods, looking around the room, for anything that might give her an insight of what she could possibly do to help her brother.
She walks out of the room, and comes back with a square plastic box. She sits on the floor and opens it. She starts bringing handfuls of the contents of the box to the centerpiece table, dropping it on top of it.
Matthew opens his eyes, recognizing the sound, and looks at his sister. She turns to him, and offers him one of the pieces from the table. He gets the piece from her hand, and studies it in the half light coming through the gap in the window.
It's a Lego piece.
He looks at her, but she's back to the very hard activity of separating all pieces by color, to later on separate them by size, and so on.
When they were children, and ten year old Joy had just been adopted into the Buchanan Clan, Matthew was only three years old and had gotten as a birthday gift his first set of Lego blocks. At that time, Joy was for some unknown reason mute, and scared of her own shadow. However, slowly she started to open up to her siblings, and one of the first ones that she connected with was Matthew.
The three year old would spend hours playing with his Lego blocks, and he desperately wanted company. He had found a faithful companion in Joy, who would sit down with him for hours on end and simply provide him piece by piece so he could build whatever his imagination could come up with. No words had been necessary, as he had been a very quiet child and he would only stretch his chubby hands to her and she would give him another blue or yellow piece so he could finish his project. And so the hours would fly by.
He shuts his eyes at the memory, and closes his hand in a fist over the Lego piece, trying to silence the deep pain that is threatening to spill in an anger filled shout. He feels a pull on his trouser's leg, and when he opens his eyes, he sees that Joy is offering him another Lego.
He sighs, and slides from the sofa to the floor and sits by her side, and starts putting the Lego pieces together, working side by side with his sister. There is no need for words, as they look at each other and share a teary smile, deep in the remembrance of those long forgotten times filled with childlike innocence.
Reviews are food for the soul.