The same day, about the same time...
In his room, a young man attempted to pack up the last of his belongings for college. He wasn't planning staying at a dormitory like some of his friends but at an old friend's house in the area of the University of Northampton, which both boys were attending. He graduated from high school two years ago but was forced to wait until his family could afford two college bills.
The young man's name was Jeffrey, an avid student who graduated from high school two years ago. From the time he was a boy, he adored and understood the different fields of science, from entomology to electronics.
His older sister, Mildred, was also in school to earn either a bachelor's or master's degree in dance according to their father's wishes. The Hawkinsons had a long line of masters and some prodigies in performing arts and very few intellectuals. She had been dancing since she was eight. Throughout those years, Jeffrey had been annoyed at seeing his sister frolicking around the house like a fairytale princess. He was determined to be a scientist of sorts, a physicist most likely.
His father really didn't think a scientist was a worthwhile occupation so he encouraged his only son to get a similar degree to Mildred's. He was impressed alright; he just felt like Jeffrey should do it upon the honor of being a Hawkinson. His mother, however, was fascinated in the facts he liked to learn about. She loved how he read aloud facts, showed various formulas he worked on or invented, and explained his blueprints and inventions. She was the main reason he never gave up on his scientific passion. The young intellectual willingly and finally felt happy with the deal when seeing a type of dance different from his sister's at a performance last Christmas.
Let's see...He thought, Extra socks, check. My formula notebook, check. Address book, check. Emergency money, also check. Calculus notes,... A slight rustling from his desk he heard interrupted his mental checklist. He turned around to see a girl with glasses and shoulder-length brunette hair carelessly looking through his blueprints.
"Amelia! Don't touch that!" He snapped at his sister. His sister, not a two-year-old but rather a twelve-year-old, shrugged back.
"What's to be upset about, Jeff?" She asked, studying one of her brother's blueprints and wrinkling a nose at it like it was a picture painted by a three-year-old, "You're not going to be here to use them."
"Of course, I know that well. But do you know how long I spent working on those?"
"Not as long as Edison worked on the light bulb." She smirked, remembering his science talk for as long as she could remember, "Or the Curies finding pollen-ium, whatever that element's name is."
"Pol-onium, Amelia. Think Poland."
"What does Poland have to do with that?"
"That's when you read and find out." He smiled slyly and returned his double-checking. The bespectacled tween set down the paper and stuck her tongue out at him.
A young woman stepped into the room. She wore a modest blouse over a black leotard and a grey pencil skirt, and her dishwater blond hair was pulled back into a bun. She patted Amelia on the shoulder and leaned over the young man's shoulder.
"Jeff, you need anything?" She asked.
"No, Mildred. I'm fine." He replied. Mildred wondered over to her sister to watch the series of blueprints being studied.
Mrs. Hawkinson, or at home known as Mum or Mary, walked into the room.
"I'm rather surprised, Jeffrey." Mrs. Hawkinson said.
"Surprised at what, Mum?" He asked chuckling.
"That you're not taking any of your science books to Harold's while you're gone. Or your blueprints."
"Well, my books I can understand bringing, but where would I have a place to tinker with my experiments?"
"Your room there." Amelia said cockily, leaving the room. "It is yours, after all."
"Yes, but not for long." Jeffrey said. "Even if was mine forever, I couldn't do that to the Weavers. Even if I don't have any chemicals that would burn holes through the floor,..." That made both mother and sister giggle. "I must focus on my studies during my stay."
"And if you find nothing else to do when you have free time?" Mrs. Hawkinson pointed out. "Harold has probably made some friends after his return."
"Then maybe I can come up with some new concepts there and bring back home to present to you like curios from a foreign country." He pulled a couple of thick hardcover books off his shelf and laid them on top of the other belongings in the footlocker.
"What if you find other friends besides Harold there?" Mildred asked.
"Well, I'm sure I'll find other associates there with my same interests."
"Or at least know what you're talking about." Amelia added after returning to the room at the mention of "associates." "How about Americans? My friend Patricia knows a couple of American families moving over here. Like the Rogerses and Browns. They were friends of the St. James family during their stay in the States."
Jeffrey laid his face in his hand. From what he had experienced with Americans, he really didn't like them much. "I...I don't know, Amelia."
"What would be really ironic then is if you fell in love with one."
"Maybe. Maybe so." He thought, I highly doubt that!
"Oh, I know what you could do! If you get the Ph.D. and if you're brilliant enough, you could just say 'Jeffrey Hawkinson, Ph.D.' and be part of a university's scientific research team!"
"Amelia, we don't believe in deception." Mrs. Hawkinson lightly scolded.
He pulled down the lid and snapped the two buckles shut to hold it in place. "I guess that should do it."
"So, this it?" Mildred asked.
"I believe so."
Barely anyone could believe he was leaving in less than half an hour already. Mrs. Hawkinson rustled her fingers through his shock of brunette hair and smiled, wiping a few tears away. "I hope you do splendidly in your studies." Jeffrey and his dearest mum hugged each other good-bye.
He turned to Mildred and proudly smiled at her before hugging. He admired her for being a lady he could look up to. He wasn't a child anymore, she was two years his senior, and both yet served as mediators for each other between the slight feuds courtesy of the little imp sister.
"Take care of Dad, Mum, and Mildred, will you?" He told Amelia.
"Do I have to hug you good-bye?" She asked.
"No."
"Okay, I'll take care of them."
Robert, his father, came up to the room to help him take the trunk down the stairs and into the foyer.
"Thank you, Dad." Jeffrey told his father.
Before Mr. Hawkinson could say anything, a loud beeping of a car horn made both jump. The father and son peeked out the door window. An average-height young man with auburn hair dressed in a blue sweater and black slacks crawled out of a somewhat brand new car.
"He's here." Jeffrey announced breathlessly.
" Harold has changed. See?" Mr. Hawkinson said under his breath as he put the curtain back.
"Are you sure that's him?" They heard Amelia ask.
"Of course it's him, darling," Mildred said. "I recognize him from the picture the Weavers sent us."
"Well, where is it? I haven't seen it!"
Jeffrey gulped as he reached for the door knob. He opened the door and barely got to stick his head out.
"Jeffrey? Is that you?" Asked a voice deeper than what he used to hear from Harold. Jeffrey came out, and the only thing he recognized from the young man as being Harold was the distinctive large mole to the left of a right light brown eye.
When both boys were ten, Harold's family moved from Jeffrey's hometown to the States. Jeffrey was too far away to go back to Watford after his classes and to be back at Northampton the next day, so the two agreed that he could stay with the Weaver family during their classes.
"Harold, it's been almost forever." Jeffrey replied nervously, coming out of the doorway.
"Oh my word, I don't even recognize you!" Harold ran up the small staircase and wrapped his arms around his childhood friend. "Golly, you've changed."
"Au contraire, my friend" Jeffrey said. "You've changed."
"And is that good or bad?"
"Well, neither."
"Good to know that. Let's get that footlocker into the trunk." Jeffrey cocked an eyebrow in confusion. "Oh, sorry 'bout that. I meant boot."
The two boys put the footlocker into the back of the car. Robert still stood by the door.
"Good luck, son." The father told Jeffrey as he shook his hand in congratulations.
"Farewell, Dad." Jeffrey said. He hopped into the passenger seat, and Harold started the car.
"Hey, Jeff!" Amelia cried, sticking her head out of the window. "Don't forget Americans! Ta ta!"
Harold drove off with a wide smile, still laughing at Amelia's farewell speech."And who was that?"
"Amelia, my younger sister." Jeffrey answered, a bit embarrassed.
"That's Amelia? I haven't seen her since she was four. Man, she hasn't changed a bit. Tell me, during the War, was Watford bombed?"
"No, thank goodness."
"That's good to know. Dad and Mum felt we lived too close to London and decided to move to America for safety."
"And how are things with your family?"
"Mum and Dad are fine and glad to be home. Emma and Christopher...hmm...Emma's thirteen and at seeing a picture of you, has developed a fancy for you." Jeffrey smiled. "Christopher's ten now and hasn't changed much over the years. Oh, I forgot Donna. When we lived in Hertford, North Carolina, Mum had a girl in 1942. Donna is eight years old. Enough of my clan, how's yours?"
"My parents are fine as well. Mildred received her associate's last summer and came home today for the weekend to say 'hello' and see me off. Amelia...well, what should I say? She's quite feisty and independent. She wants to work with the law, not so much as a constable (the family would be outraged at that) but probably a lawyer. How far are we?"
"About...um...78 kilometers."
Jeffrey leaned back in his seat, watching the road ahead of him. Harold had changed alright. Eight years in America. A lot could happen.
I'll bet anything you all have a good idea who Jeffrey is. Any-hoo, let me know what you're thinking of it so far. Have a cookie (::) and a few bonus points if you get it right. By the way, That's about 48 miles they're driving, for all the not-so-metric savvy peoples.