Oto jestem iz powrotem! ("Here I am and back again!"; takin' up Polish) Long time no see, folks (almost a lifetime XD). A busy schedule + lack of what to do with this chapter + lack of inspiration = my slacking off. I've got a pretty good idea of what I'm gonna write next, so things'll speed up. We ready? Roll film!
The first part is largely inspired by Beauty and the Beast Broadway's If I Can't Love Her. The reprise will come later in the story.
~December 1956~
The yellow stump of a pencil rolled up and down the notebook cover with the help of a push from his finger. His blue eyes boringly followed the motion as his head lay beside. Throughout all his works, this was the first time Jeffrey was at a loss of what to do. For the past two years, he filled notebook upon notebook with research for the survival of humanity. With idea after idea, Old Man Logic would drop in and show the worthlessness and impossibility of each one and eventually stop him in his tracks.
Jeffrey was looking forward to receiving his master's degree pretty soon and knew that he would soon have to get started on his doctoral thesis. Hopefully the upcoming busy two years would keep him sidetracked and give him some time to find more solutions.
And of Harold and the Weavers, you may ask? Harold would finish his master's degree in civil engineering soon. Even though Harold would graduate and move toward his career, the Weavers were kind enough to let Jeffrey stay and continue his education.
Thankfully, it was another weekend. And not just any regular weekend; it was just the start of Christmas break. Harold was halfway through his fifth year for his degree. So far, as for statistics, Harold: 5.5 down, 0.5 to go; Jeffrey: 5.5 down, 2.5 to go. Jeffrey was getting ready to go home to celebrate Christmas with his family. He was pretty much ready to head on out but was now sitting down on his luggage case to buckle it shut. Click! The buckle announced. Yes! The young genius thought.
"So, old boy, ya ready to go?" Harold asked.
"That I am. I'll just need to say my goodbyes, if I get the chance to, which I'm afraid can't happen." Jeffrey replied.
"Alrightie. I call dibs!" The young auburn-haired man fiddled with a little box in-and-out of his pocket.
"Harold, what is that?" Jeffrey asked, a scientist's curiosity rising in him.
"Oh, heh heh heh." He chuckled and cleared his throat. "It's about time you knew. You remember the Hardy girl? Allyson Hardy?" Jeffrey nodded his head. "Well, after break I'm gonna ask for her hand in marriage."
"My congratulations." Jeffrey lightly clapped his hands in applause.
"Thank you, yes, thank you." Harold playfully took a bow. Not hearing a muffled chuckle, he looked up before straightening. Jeffrey began his trip down the staircase towards the front door. "I'll tell the family you said hi and goodbye."
"Thank you very much, Harold." Jeffrey bid adieu politely, anxious to get home. "Merry Christmas." The door shut, making the recently hung wreath bounce as if too waving farewell to its home's guest. He walked a few blocks away from the house and caught a bus after a few minutes. He stepped inside and took a seat.
Light white flakes began to fall. It had rained the previous days, so the snow wouldn't stick well. Ever since rationing decreased, there were more cars on the road. Yet you could still see children and their mother or father running errands or shopping for Christmas gifts. Unexpectedly, he found another familiar site. While the other sites left him with a warm fuzzy feeling, this one left him bewildered. It was neither good nor bad; neither happy nor sad. It didn't harm; neither did it heal his soul. He stared back until it became a speck. The tram shelter.
The Campbell girl came to mind. For the past two years, the only time she stood out the most was when she would dance with him. That and when she would play chords on the piano for a selected dance song for a while when the original pianist was absent. Except for a couple of friends in class, she was pretty much on her own. At the end of the spring term earlier this year, the devilishly charming Jack Kendall dropped out of classes when he eloped with a lover classmate to Scotland. So far no one had seen him; maybe he hid away somewhere under their noses or he didn't come back. Thus she had no love interests, perhaps.
Nowadays since the start of the fall term, he would catch himself glancing at her. As soon as she turned her head towards him, he returned his to a distant stance away from her. He could only wonder if she ever did the same. Despite the distance, she crossed his mind more often. Even now he could yet couldn't forgive her. He believed she had eternally returned to her old shut-up-from-the-world, antisocial self; that was until she made friends with other girls in class. This revealed that she was still the same person he knew her as beforehand.
At home, nothing really changed much since the "Big Split" as Amelia had put it. The now eighteen-year-old tomboy still hadn't forgiven him, proudly stating that she would carry her grudges to the grave. Next fall, she would start college and stay with the Weavers along with Jeffrey, things would only get worse. Remembering her constant ranting and raging, he was reminded again and again that he had only until next June to make things right.
If he couldn't, then so be it.
~Northampton University; the following June~
Charlotte adjusted the black mortarboard on her head and positioned it in place with a couple bobby pins. Though she never saw the point of Allyson styling her hair in loose curls, her roommate insisted by saying, "It's a landmark of your life, Lottie. I want people to look back on this moment and say, 'Oh, how beautiful she looked.' Even if it's just me." Her dorm mate set not only Charlotte's but her own hair in curlers for the occasion. "And besides, we'll match."
The blond smiled and shrugged in surrender. Oh well. She looked down at herself in her graduation gown. When she graduated from high school in America, she remembered the gown being closed in the front. Today, she wore black again only with the gown open in the front. A blue triangular yoke adorned her chest and shoulders like a cloth necklace. She took in a deep breath. Something caught her attention away from the butterflies in her stomach. "Hey, Al?"
"Yeah?"
Charlotte tapped against the base of her left ring finger. Allyson looked down at her left hand, hidden by a long black sleeve, and blushed slightly at the sight of a simple ring. "July 16th. To Harold."
"My god, Al!" The American gawked. "Why didn't you tell me? I knew there was something between you and him, but…when did he propose?"
Allyson chuckled. "He proposed the day we came after Christmas break. Yeah, I guess I decided not to wear it until today."
"Ally, that's wonderful. Still, you're too good at keeping secrets."
"I know." She responded with a fake pride. "Before we go, will you be one of my bridesmaids?"
"I'd be happy to."
"Great; let's go. I'll discuss it with Harold today."
Well, folks, today was the day. Professor Hemingway and other teachers and instructors at Northampton would see a good deal of their students off. A large throng of graduates, young men and ladies, each with associates, bachelors, masters or doctorates in a menagerie of different courses, filled the auditorium. The building that held lectures throughout the school year would today only hold a speech and a long list of names in a role call for diplomas. Family and friends sat off at a distance away from the black-blue-clad myriad, some ready to clap and cheer their souls out and some ready to wipe away tears for the sake of pride and sentiment.
"…Mortimer Andrew Byrum with a Bachelor of Economics…" A professor announced as a tall slim redhead stepped up to the platform for his degree and a handshake. Applause from the watching audience debuted the start of a new life for each student. The list of B surnames was complete; now onto the C's. "…Allan Richard Cabot with a Doctorate of Optometry…" As the list went further down, the tension and nervousness of the graduating class became more intense. "…Charlotte Anne Campbell with a Master of Fine Arts…"
Charlotte stepped onto the platform, shaking the professor's hand and receiving her degree. The applause settled down her tension, and her face lit up upon hearing, "Go, Lottie!" from the cheering, signaling the presence of her parents in the colossus of people. She strolled back down the aisle, relieved yet impatient to get to her Mum and Daddy.
"Mum! Dad!" Charlotte squealed, running into the arms of her parents.
"I'm so proud of you, Lottie." Her dad said warmly, kissing her cheek. "Here; I want to show you something." He drew an old black-and-white photograph from his coat pocket.
"Awww." Charlotte and her mother cooed. The family bittersweetedly smiled at the picture of a young dark-haired man in an army uniform giving a nine-year-old girl with blond braids in her hair a piggyback ride. The brother and sister posed in front of a one-story house, a blue star hanging on the front window.
"Here's another one." A newer picture came out. It was of a teenager, the previous girl all grown up, with her parents but sadly without the young man. "Right before the Campbell Castle was sold." The family chuckled. "How about now?"
"Now?" Mrs. Campbell gawked at the much newer color picture. Of the same house. "We haven't been there in six years. Herb, h-how did you do it?"
"A client of the wedding coordinator I work for took a business trip to the States in Philadelphia. He knew I lived somewhere close by, and my boss asked if he could take a picture of the house, you know for old time's sake. Believe me, it was quite a surprise. Now for a bigger surprise…" Five slips of paper came from the same pocket. The eyes and mouths of both ladies popped opened.
"Dad, you didn't." Charlotte gasped. "When are we leaving?"
"August 18th next year; we'll spend two weeks. Noticing the worried look on Mrs. Campbell's face, he added, "And don't worry. We'll bring Grandmum along too."
"Then what's with a fifth ticket?" Charlotte cocked her head.
"That's a chance to take a friend along with you." The father smiled.
"Seriously?"
"By all means, Lottie."
A surprise hug came from behind. "Congratulations, girl!" An English-accented female voice exclaimed.
"Ally, congratulations back at you." The American blond returned the hug. "Mom, Dad, this is my friend and roommate, Allyson."
"Oh, pleasure." Mr. Campbell greeted, shaking the graduate's hand.
"Hello, dear." Mrs. Campbell greeted with a hug.
"It's great to finally meet you two." Allyson waved. "I'm telling you, Char-" She turned around. "Is that Harold? That's Harold! He got it!" She cheered and whooped, her friend eventually joining her. Harold, upon noticing his bride, galloped up the staircase and wrapping his arms around her. "I knew you could do it!" She squealed, planting a kiss on his cheek.
"Thanks, Ally Al," He smiled, turning a light shade of red.
"Harold, I don't think you've met Charlotte, my roommate."
"I think I have seen you on and off, Charlotte. But it's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise." Charlotte replied.
"She's going to be one of my bridesmaids." Allyson announced.
"Which one?" Harold asked.
"I think first."
"So that means she'll be escorting my first groomsman, Jeffrey Hawkinson."
Gulp.
(Twilight Zone theme music playing) Well now…what'll happen next with our pair? PS: Pardon any errors in the graduation ceremony.