Day 2 Afternoon Adventure

Disclaimer: The characters are the property of Andrew W. Marlowe and ABC television. No infringement is intended.

After finishing their lunch, they made their way back to the car. As they approached the car, Castle touched Beckett on the shoulder.

"Beckett, while the places we've been to so far are places that I thought both of us would enjoy, the next place is more for me. It has some personal meaning. I hope it's not too boring for you," Castle said looking into Beckett's eyes. He opened her door to the car and walked around to the driver's side. Starting the car and pulling out he continued.

"I've told you a little about my childhood."

She looked at him as if to say, "Go on."

"Well, I … I went from school to school. Staying in one depending on how much the teachers tolerated or how long the mother's show lasted. My only constant companion, other than mother of course, were books. I could get lost in the library finding the unusual. Science fiction taking me away from the mundane and unfriendly life I was living at the time. Books that had been written over 100 years ago brought me to a different place and time."

Castle glanced over at Beckett as he drove on to the interstate on ramp. Pausing his monolog, he merged onto the highway and then continued.

"I … I wanted to immerse myself into those bygone eras, those other worlds. To escape from the difficult world I was living in."

He paused, "Don't get me wrong. Mother did the best she could. She would work hard to have enough for me to eat, clothes to wear, but the 'new kid' was prime meat for bullies at school."

Castle paused again. Watching the road, he drove in silence for a few moments.

Castle then continued, "My only escape was to read. Reading helped me become the class clown, have ideas for comedy … and pranks."

Beckett tsked and rolled her eyes.

"Most bullies are not very smart. So I could use pranks that I read about. Or jokes. That helped protect me."

He hesitated again.

"As I got older and I wanted to be a writer, I realized that truly great writing was difficult."

"Who said it would be easy?" Beckett interjected.

"Mother likes to remind me that Harper Lee wrote 'To Kill a Mockingbird' on her first go around and why couldn't I write great literature."

"Castle …"

Castle waved her off. "No, in a way she's right. In Nikki Heat, I may never even come close to capturing how extraordinary you are. I don't think I can write well enough to make Nikki and Rook something that will be read 100 years from now."

Beckett tried to think of something to say to Castle but she couldn't find the words. They sat in silence as Castle exited the interstate. He turned right at the end of the ramp, the sign indicating they were going toward Elmira.

Beckett looked around at the businesses trying to find where he was heading to that had personal meaning only seeing typical chain fast-food restaurants and other stores.

As they drove along Beckett noticed something apparently out of place. "Castle, what is that?"

"A golf course."

"Mark Twain Golf Course?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Mark Twain? Here? Upstate New York? Elmira?"

Castle grunted.

"I thought Mark Twain was from Hannibal, Missouri?"

Castle shrugged his shoulders and continued driving.

Trying to hide a smirk, he said, "Mark Twain is one of my writing idols. He is a giant in American Literature. He wrote books over 100 years ago that are still being read today. Memorable characters. Tom Sawyer. Becky Thatcher. Huckleberry Finn. Memorable scenes. Who can forget Tom Sawyer tricking his friends into whitewashing the picket fence?"

He looked away from the road to Beckett and smiled.

"I hope to someday be able to be even close to the same writing universe as Mark Twain."

Castle continued driving into town. They passed through some residential areas of town and past the center. Finally there was a brick wall with an insignia saying "Elmira College." Castle slowed the car and then said, "There it is! Let's find a place to park."

Beckett hadn't noticed anything unusual about this area. It looked like a typical college campus with the large brick buildings and stately trees.

Castle pulled off on the first side street and found a convenient place to park. He got out of the car and went over to Beckett to open her door. She looked at him questioningly. He held out his hand to help her out of the car.

"Castle …"

"Patience Beckett, patience. Just a short walk now."

On the sidewalk, they walked up the side street and turned walking back the way they drove into the college campus. Beckett scanned either side of the road. On both sides were the typical nondescript brick buildings that were either college dorms or classrooms. On the right there was a small pond with a fountain streaming water into the air. Up ahead she saw a group of elderly people following a lady with a flag. The group went into a very small brown building. This building was partially hidden by all the tall trees in the green between one of the buildings and the pond.

They walked up the sidewalk, Beckett could see a sign facing away from her that some of the group was perusing. The lady, Beckett supposed she was a tour guide, then took her flag and walked away, the elderly tour group following behind.

As they approached, Beckett could see more detail on the building. It almost looked like an enclosed gazebo. The chocolate brown building was eight-sided, steps leading to a double door making up one side of the building. A fireplace made up the opposite side. Each of the other sides of the octagonal building had windows.

Finally, Beckett and Castle reached the sign. The sign described the building as the "Mark Twain Study" where he wrote most of his famous works. It described how this was built for him by his sister-in-law at her nearby house called "Quarry Farm".

"Castle, I never knew that Mark Twain summered here."

"Yeah, apparently his wife grew up here and his sister-in-law lived here."

"It says here his other home was in Hartford, Connecticut."

"Yeah, I've been there although it was a long time ago. I should take you there sometime."

She looked at him as if to ask "can I have the story?"

"When mother went on a touring play, occasionally we would visit some of the sites in town. She was in one, I can't remember which one that ended up in Hartford. We went to the Twain house and toured. All decorated by Louis Comfort Tiffany. And his next door neighbor was the author Harriet Beecher Stowe who wrote 'Uncle Tom's Cabin'. Her house was also on display."

After reading the sign about the history of the study, they strode up the walkway to the few steps leading to the entrance of the small structure. Inside they found a desk, some chairs, a fireplace and pictures around the single room. There was a docent there ready to describe the pieces in the study.

The docent pointed to each of the pictures describing the family scenes. The first picture was of Mark Twain's son who died at 18 months. The next picture was of his wife and daughters. Several others were described including one of Mark Twain sitting in a chair in the study. Below the picture was the same chair beside the same window. Next was a picture of the pathway leading up to the study when it was at Quarry Farm.

"The children were instructed never to go up this path to the study while Mark Twain worked. Later, when he had completed a chapter, he would call them to the steps and read to them what he had written that day," the docent added.

"Can you feel it, Beckett? The creative energy from his works here. Look at the mantel above the fireplace. All of his famous works. A bust of an older Mark Twain. I can almost feel him here now, writing away." Castle said.

Beckett stood back and watched as Castle drank in the sensation of the tiny study. She saw him look around the room with reverent awe. As he turned looking at the items throughout the room, his gaze landed and then focused on Beckett. He sheepishly smiled. He then held out his hand and they walked out of the study.

As they walked down the sidewalk back to their rental car, Beckett said, "Castle, I think I understand. That was Mark Twain's 'Fortress of Solitude' just like sometimes you go off by yourself to write."

Expecting Castle to make some comment about how hot it was that she made a comic book reference, she was surprised that he didn't respond as they walked away.

She looked at him questioningly and he responded with a sad smile. They walked in silence down the sidewalk.

Finally Castle spoke as they approached the car, "I need to pay my respects, Beckett. It's not far but it's too far to walk and we have a plane to catch."

He silently opened the passenger door for Beckett and she sat down. She looked up at him to get his expression. He had a far off solemn expression. He silently went around the car, sat in the driver's seat and started the car. Unlike every other car trip on this adventure, he didn't plug in his iPhone for some music. Only the road noise permeated the silence in the car. Without speaking, he drove a few blocks to Woodlawn Cemetery.

As Castle drove in, Beckett saw there were signs for the various gravesites of famous people. An Ernie Davis sign pointed one driveway in the cemetery. A Hal Roach sign pointed down another lane in the cemetery. Finally, they came to the plot Castle was searching. Like the other small signs pointing out famous residents, there was a small sign with an arrow. It simply said "Mark Twain".

Castle pulled the car up just beyond the stone pathway leading into the site. Silently, reverently, he approached the gravesite, Beckett behind him. There was a sign at the beginning of the path briefly describing the plot and the Clemens family members interred here. There was a canopy of oaks filtering the bright sunlight.

They both walked up the pathway and saw several granite markers surrounding a short stone paved walkway. At one end was a pillar with a two profiles. One of Mark Twain and another below was his son-in-law, the concert pianist and conductor Ossip Gabrilowitsch. At the base of the pillar were two flower pots with multi-colored periwinkles. On either side of the walkway were the markers Twain's wife Olivia, children and his only grandchild, Nina.

In the center of the group was a simple marker, no different from the rest. Inscribed on top it said:

Samuel Longhorne Clemens

– MARK TWAIN –

Nov. 30, 1835 – Apr. 21, 1910

In front of the marker in the center was a small American flag. Also in front at one side of the marker were a small bunch of wild daisies in a water bottle. The flowers appeared as if a child had picked them and brought them to give to their parent, lovingly placed in a water bottle to keep them fresh.

Beckett watched as Castle bowed his head in reverence to the fellow author below the marker. Castle stood motionless with his eyes closed. After a few moments he opened his eyes and turned to Kate. Beckett saw Castle's eyes glisten with the unshed tears for the great American writer in front of him.

Almost sheepishly smiling, he said, "Ready to catch our plane back to reality, Beckett?"

"Yes, let's go."

After an uneventful trip home to the loft, Castle and Beckett unpacked and prepared for bed. They settled in to bed, Beckett looked over at her lover, the man who took her on a two-day whirlwind vacation, the man who wrote a bestselling series of books about her and dedicated them to her, and, most importantly, the man who loves her. She felt a warm glow within her that she hadn't felt before she dove in the relationship with Castle. She put her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

She lay her head on his chest and spoke, "Thank you, Castle. For all this. Taking me to all the sites. To opening up to me more about your childhood and Mark Twain."

She paused," I know this cost you a lot of money."

Castle was about to respond but Beckett sat up and stopped him by placing her index finger on his lips.

Looking in the eye, smiling, she continued "And before you say anything, I know that you don't really care about the cost and you do this because you love me and I love you. I love that you would do this for me. But … but a simple thank you seems … seems so … so inadequate. It … it doesn't express how grateful … how thankful I am … how much I appreciate how much you have done for me setting up this impromptu vacation."

He lovingly put his hand in her hair and pulled her in for another kiss.

Pulling away from the kiss and leaning his head to touch foreheads together, Castle softly spoke, "Always, Kate … always."

A/N: I hope you have enjoyed this little sojourn as much as my wife and I enjoyed doing it. The places that Castle and Beckett visited in this fan fiction are within a short drive of the Elmira airport. We did all of these places in two days.