The Heart of Our Story

I'd been awaiting Barnabas with our friends, Wadsworth and Mr. Loomis, to bring in the adhesive to fix up things the children had destroyed in the lyncrusta when they flounced all over the house ages ago, as well as another furnishing I'd been longing for.

Jackie and I were contemplating what could be taking them so long as we stoked the fire and picked more logs to throw on.

"I really don't know what's come over Willem lately," she said.

"Hmm?" I asked, finally poking the fire so that the log would rest more easily between the two that were already eagerly aflame.

"He's incredibly attentive," she said, "it's like he just won't let me alone sometimes."

"Oh?" I asked, simpering, "and what's so terrible about that?"

"Well!" she almost exclaimed, "I don't mind so much except when *I'm* trying to tidy up in our room and then he just paws me like there's no tomorrow."

"Jackie," I sighed, "I can't see that is anything to complain about."

"No," she sighed in return, "I just wanted to discuss it and say so."

"I know what you mean," I laughed.

"I don't doubt it," she snickered, sitting down on the davenport, "that man of yours really is excessive."

"You have no idea," I said, "and I know I certainly am when it comes to that."

"Yes," she said, "you know Maggie, Willie likely has a crush on you still as well."

"I don't blame him," I joked, "*I* have a crush on me, too!"

"Josette Dupres!" she scoffed, "you make too much of yourself!"

"I hardly need to try, Jackie," I returned, "you know my history, however complicated it is."

"I have no doubts about that. I've worked in the medical field long enough to know there is more to heaven and earth and all that's in-between. Really, I've heard all kinds of things that happen when patients are… well… on their way out…"

"I know it," I told her, "I remember well enough!"

"Yes," she nodded, "I suppose you would… Did you know Carolyn is almost ready to release that book about ships she meant to do?"

I smiled, "I thought she might be. She and Mrs. Muir have really done a remarkable business there."

"They certainly have and of course, Victoria was helping out with that."

I paused and turned, crossing my legs and getting cozy in my husband's old reliable armchair, "I imagine she would. Uncle Caleb likely gave her plenty of information to help out."

Jackie snorted, "Why is that old ghost of his still haunting that place, Maggie?"

I knew what she meant. It was a little odd at first, but considering this estate and this town, we'd finally gotten used to how ghostly things really were. "It's in his contract. He should finally leave this mortal coil in a year," I answered, "Mind you, he and Victoria are hashing out a lot in that old house at Seaview. Vicky always loved history, you know. I'm glad to have someone else explaining it to her."

Jackie shifted uncertainly, "Why is that?"

"Well," I confessed, "as much as I'm happy to re-live old times upstairs, for the most part, I really love living now with all of the new conveniences… not that we're going to have electricity here! No. I agree with Barnabas. Hot and cold running water is all well and good but as long as we're careful, fireplaces, lamplight and candles are all we're going to have in this house."

She smiled warmly at this, "You know I don't mind that? It really slows the pace for me. Besides… it is romantic and I know my Willie. He'll throw himself at me, but I won't let him burn the place down."

"Good to hear it," I responded, and then I heard some footsteps and the door open, "Oh, at last, they're here."

We both rose and proceeded into the foyer. There were our butler and Mr. Loomis carting in the credenza. It was a bit larger than I'd hoped, but I felt the dining room needed it. There was simply no other alternative to invite breakfast buffets than to have it. The two men set it close to the stairway.

And of course, there was my Barnabas stepping behind them, cane and all, in that manner of authority. I smirked, "Just won't lift a finger, will you?"

He balked, "My dear, Maggie. What end did you want me to lift? There are only two."

"You know I'm teasing," I smiled.

"And I love it when you do." He smiled back.

Willie and Wadsworth harrumphed the furnishing down. Our butler turned with a heave of breath, "Madam… moiselle? Would you mind if I had a lie down?"

"What the hell does that mean anyway?" Willie asked.

"Willem," Jackie sighed, "it means the man wants to take a rest in a horizontal position. You're not that dense… I should know!"

Willie snickered, "I try and figure out what he says that way, sweetpea. It hardly ever works but I keep trying."

Our butler stepped away with a sense of gratified fatigue. At least he didn't knock himself into the coat hanger. That's been a troubling pratfall for our household lately.

Then there was the time when the parts of the staircase disappeared. Barnabas was irritated at first but I sat on the upper steps that were still intact and he stood his ground at the foot. We took a long hour awaiting the return of its otherworldly repair and musing on which departed relation was pulling this prank. As we kept each other company he began to look at the situation with whimsy, and appreciate the fact that it gave us time to reflect on memories we hadn't uncorked before.

As of right now the staircase was fine and our pair of love-bats went up the steps to enjoy some private time alone. I decided to try out the durability of the credenza by pulling myself up and sitting on it. My husband gave me a queer look that turned into a grin. I wanted to express that I was kicking the tires but I didn't bother just in case I had to explain what that meant… again.

He took my waist in his hands and began stroking my face with his own. I had a yearning to go upstairs too but then we overheard some laughter and decided to let Mr. Loomis and his sweetheart have the house to themselves, in so many words. Our butler likely was passed out and wouldn't be awoken by anything. I suggested we take a walk.

A few birds were tweeting in the woods as I shut the door behind us. It was a fine day. I took Barnabas by the arm and we strolled out toward the seaside. We would occasionally stop to take notice of the estate and all its properties from various distances. Perhaps there was still some melancholy splendour to it all but when I pointed this out he told me that Collinwood's charm, as a whole, still resided in the troubling factors of the gloomy burdens we had overcome.

"Still perhaps have to overcome," I responded, lowering my arm and taking his hand.

"Why?" he asked.

We had stopped about a hundred yards from the cliffs nearby.

"All the suffering," I told him, "it can't simply be lost and forgotten, mon demón."

"Never?" he asked, somewhat sadly.

"No," I answered, trying to give a knowing smile, "It's all what teaches us how to be better."

I pulled him along so we could continue toward the cliff. I wanted to see a full view of the ocean. I carried on with my explanation, "When we look into the history of then moving into now, we see examples…"

"Oh? What kind, my Josette?"

"All kinds… nothing simple, my love… The farther back in time we look, the more abusive troubles there are between both human beings and human souls… not only are these horrible conflicts tolerated, accepted as a daily fact, but also… well… approved of."

We both fell silent thinking this over and reaching a vast view of the seaside and the strait line of the horizon. Not one ship interrupted the scene which stretched across the Atlantic. I knew which direction to look for England, even if I couldn't see that far away. I'd been there before and perhaps one day would be there again, but not so much as Kitty Soames this time; more as my entire self now.

The eloquence of Barnabas Collins came back to him, "I see your meaning, Margarette." Hmm… this was a new one. He took my name and emphasized the last syllable, creating for me a new combination of Maggie and Josette. How clever… and fitting. Too bad I hadn't come up with it first. Well, I thought, let him have the credit for that one. I shouldn't mind at all.

"And what is my meaning, mon demón?"

"The view of the past, as Victoria has shown us, is littered with so much refuse so that we can look back and understand the misfortunes we've suffered… glean from that… possible mistakes not to repeat. All the books and records show how we've destroyed each other and tortured ourselves and perhaps with such evidence we can keep improving and learn to hold back from going down those roads again."

I sighed with contentment, also laced with some sorrow for all that had happened, "Yes, Barnabas, my one true love… yes, indeed."

"Perhaps we can barricade those roads so no others need go down them again."

I looked out to the sea in its own waves and mixture, its massive hold on the universal divine. I saw the plight of our existence there like so many creatures on this Earth; we were but one community in a collection of communities. Even the ocean had aspects of many within the one and the one among many.

"No," I told him, "no barricades, Barnabas. That isn't the point. What we need to do is to see the view, to know it. No one need go down those tragic roads fully, but they do need to see them to understand for generations to come. Misunderstandings and pain will always be a part of our lives, but working together life ought to become much less terrible for all of us someday."

He hummed, "You sound like that book Julia brought back from 1995."

I hummed my own low laugh in response, "Yes. I keep that last paragraph jotted down on a note in my pocket."

"Do you?" he asked, somewhat hopefully, "Won't you read it to me?"

"Of course," I said, finding the page I'd copied by hand and unfolding it.

"Above all we have been persuaded to think that it is unacceptable to be different or even to acknowledge that differences in abilities exist between us. But our survival may depend on the realization and expression of humanities immense diversity. Only if we use what may be the ultimate of the many axemaker's gifts—the coming information systems—to nurture this individual and cultural diversity, only if we celebrate our differences rather than suppressing them, will we stand a chance of harnessing the wealth of human talent that has been ignored for millennia and that is now eager, all around the world, for release."

.*.*.*.*.*.*

Excerpt from final page of "The Axemaker's Gift" by James Burke and Robert Ornstein.