A couple weeks ago had a nightmare about getting a nasty review on this story, which brought me back to it. And don't fret, peoples; I'm also on the update for Invincible Adversary, Invisible Yet Not, and hopefully Area 51 Triad (if I can get any ideas; I wanna get out of the emo/angst/regular and more into the funnies).
The final days of May, 1959…
Two more weeks left…two more weeks…the thought of it rang in his mind. Like an addiction, he couldn't get away from it. The thoughts and actions of the family and close friends of his life were mutually filled with the message. So much more than just calendars, clocks, sunrises, and sunsets, whether they be abstract or concrete, trumpeted what was to be so far the biggest day of his life. Like a bride at a wedding, his name—mainly title would be changed for the future to come. After eight years of hard work, late nights, early mornings, great deals of solitary study, and crazy-as-crazy-gets research, the time had come. He had proven himself in the eyes of the greatest dancers in Great Britain to be worthy of the honor of being one of them.
His family knew everything about it almost the same second it happened. They were all so proud of him, especially his father. He was probably the first Hawkinson to earn a doctorate in the field most revered and practiced in that family. After all, one doesn't get a PhD in dance every day.
So, whom would he tell the big news to? He wanted to be announced among close relations as not to be the same as having this subject be a headline in a newspaper. He could tell Harold, but his friend had his hands full with three-month-old twin girls, so he might have to wait for the chance. He sat at his bedroom desk, the outside rain beating against the window pane. One could swear it felt so good to be home. He pulled out his notebook to overview an old friend he had been focusing on for the past four years…survival.
Hello, long time no see. The most recent page, half-filled, seemed to greet. Any ideas?
"No…" Jeffrey droned back. A door opened and shut, and someone downstairs took a few steps and sounded like he or she was putting away some things. A gentle moderate series of footsteps were coming up the staircase, and he turned his head down to his work, pretending not to notice. An arm wrapped around his shoulder like a boa constrictor, and soft lips pressed against his cheek in a kiss. He turned to face his mum, his heroine. "Hello, Mum." He softly greeted.
She glanced over his shoulder at the page with formulas, graphs and crude illustrations, her soft breathing gliding onto the back of her only son's brunette head.
"Wow…" She quietly gaped.
Amelia was away at the University of Southampton studying to be a lawyer and destined to be there for a few years. Their father, at the moment, worked the weekdays eight hours a day from morning to early afternoon. After a week or two of that, it still felt pretty weird for it just to be him and his mum most of the day.
He looked up at her and smiled. She sadly smiled back.
"What, Mum?" He noticed the bit of disappointment in her facial expression. "Anything wrong?"
"I'm sorry…" She sighed. "I'm sorry I couldn't see to it that you couldn't be educated at a university in physics like you always wanted."
"It's a family honor, Mum; please don't be down about it."
"I know, Jeffrey. But I will say this much: I'm proud, more proud than of you earning a doctorate, that no matter what you kept at it. Look at you; you know and discovered so much and you didn't need to go anywhere to learn."
"You flatter me, Mum." He beamed.
"Oh, shush." She playfully dismissed and again kissed his cheek. "Oh, I ran into Mr. Campbell, Charlotte's dad, today at the store."
"Really? How are they?"
"Alright, I suppose. Mrs. Boyer, Mrs. Campbell's mother, passed away three days ago."
"Yes…" His eyebrows furrowed. "I remember hearing that she wasn't doing so well about a month or two after the trip to America. Any word on a funeral or memorial service perhaps?"
"Mm." She nodded. "Tomorrow around noon. It's at some little chapel about a mile or two from where the Campbells live."
"I'm going." He mumbled.
~The following day around noon~
He was dressed in his best but nothing flashy as he was attending a solemn occasion: a grey suit with a white blouse and forest green tie. His family was rather busy today so it was just himself. He stepped inside the church building. Despite it being a small service, there seemed to be several people in the foyer and sanctuary. There were people he knew and didn't know. The first face he met was Mr. Campbell's.
"Thanks for coming, son." He shook the young man's hand. "I-It really means a lot to us."
Jeffrey nodded his head with a "You're welcome, sir," and a solemn smile on his face. He made his way into the sanctuary in the search for a seat on a pew. He looked over and recognized a familiar face, holding a black-haired wriggling infant. She was talking to a woman of her age with her hair pinned up in a snug bun and holding another baby, an auburn-headed sleeping beauty. He recognized the three of the four to be Allison and her daughters Lenora and Emily, but who was the other woman?
"Hello, Allison." He greeted softly in regards to the melancholy environment.
"Hi, Jeffrey." Allison waved, doing her best to hold Lenora in place while doing so. "Harold's working today so he's not here…sorry."
"It's fine. You may tell him I said 'hello.'"
"Hi, Jeff." The other lady greeted.
"Hello," He replied absent-mindedly. "How are—Charlotte…"
He was stunned and a bit dazzled by the change in her appearance. She didn't look like a royal neither did she look like she just crawled out from under a bridge. It was hard to discern whether her smile was in "hello" or in admiration of his befuddled response. She finally said, "Excuse me for a bit…" Before leaving she gestured at Emily who was resting against her chest. "Can he?" She asked her bosom friend. The mommy nodded her head, giving permission for the genius to hold the small paternal look-alike.
"She looks like her father." Jeffrey commented. A slow hymn gently emanated from a small organ in the right corner near the platform. "I believe it's time." Everyone seated themselves down, the Campbells in the front right row.
Mr. Campbell made his way to the small wooden pulpit, adjusting his black tie and clearing his throat, and unfolded a piece of paper.
"I'd like to thank you for coming today…," He began. "…to celebrate Mrs. Boyer's life, the life of Helen June Keyes-Boyer. "We'd like to start out this service with a stanza or two of a hymn some of you may remember,…
"Nearer my God to thee,
Nearer to thee,"
The small regiment joined in with the middle-aged man's croon, some even harmonizing.
"Even though it be a cross that raiseth me,
"Still all my song shall be,
"Nearer to thee…"
The next moments were spent acknowledging and reminiscing the deceased woman's life how she was born in the mid-1880s in Bristol, England and grew up in a family of two parents and five children…how she married young farmer at age seventeen, moved to Hatfield and had three girls by the time she turned twenty-five, the youngest being Jane…how only six months after the end of World War I she and her family moved to America for a better life…how she loved the idols of her life—husband, children…and at last how she spent the final year of her life, returning home at the end of World War Two and spending it with her family. Another hymn, The Eastern Gate, and a dismissal prayer by a local reverend finished the service.
The Campbells were showered with handshakes, hugs, and offerings of flowers and treasured keepsakes in honor of Grandmum Boyer. Luckily at the end, Charlotte managed to stay out of most of it as she was quite overwhelmed by all the eyes turned on her family, only getting the occasional farewells and sympathies.
"Bye, Al; take care now." She waved, watching her friend drive home. She turned around and jumped a bit; Jeffrey was still there. She cleared a throat and forced a smile on her face for her former classmate. "So…er…how are you?"
"Alright, I suppose." He replied. How he wanted to express his excitements and news of his degree; however one would know now wasn't a good time. "I'm sorry I didn't greet you earlier on."
"It's okay; no harm done. How goes the PhD?" C'mon, Lot! She coached herself. Think happy thoughts. You know, like Peter Pan? Yeah…yeah…you got it.
"Everything's worked out." He tried so hard not to explode into ecstasy and clenched his fists in anticipation. "I'm graduating…this upcoming month." Hopefully this gospel would change the forced smile. "…on the fourteenth."
"Wow, nice…" The smile changed; it did the trick. "Congratulations…I'm pretty sure you'll make quite the Dr. Hawkinson as you are the one and only."
"Thank you very much, my dear." Drat. He thought. Why did I just say that? "No offense but it's not like you'll ever see that day come."
"I will…I might…"
"I don't understand."
"Jeff,..." She bit down on her lip and did her best to stand, think and speak tall. "I'm leaving."
His smile of anticipation and gratefulness instantly turned into a subtle gawk.
"I'm going back home…'Ladies, our work here is done,' my dad said that last night. My grandmum was the only reason I left America. Her husband, my granddad, died only a month before I left."
"When do you leave?" He asked, trying not to show the loads of grief and despair he hid inside.
"The fifteenth…in the morning, the latest by noon." The funeral coordinator pulled out a key from his pocked, signaling the two to leave the building. They stopped outside under the barely sheltered front steps.
"Allison already knows and has for most of the time since she and I have been friends. I wish I would've said something sooner; sorry."
He could only be silent, dumbfounded, and bewildered. It all felt like he was at her side on her deathbed.
"I've loved my life here…with Allison, you, college, dancing…it's been the time of my life." Her despairing frown turned into a sad and subtle but enlightened smile. At the sound of her dad calling to leave, she said. "I guess that's me."
"Good-bye…" He said softly. The two embraced each other in a hug.
"I promise I'll be at the graduation ceremony."
"And I'll see you there."
"Lottie!" was heard again among the now-pouring rain. She looked at him as though she was about to say something more, but turned away and trotted to the shelter of the family car.
~June 13th…~
Jeffrey filled out a second page from his notebook for another experiment, this one rather not of science but something else…something that the average everyday person would write down.
Pawn shops...He thought and wrote down in unison. No…—too risky…hmmm…department stores…won't work…too expensive…old boxes in [the]attic…now there's an idea.
"Uncle Jeff?" A little boy's voice called.
"Whatcha got there?" A five-year-old boy's voice asked. Jeffrey felt his nephew Cecil climb onto the back of the chair and wrap his arms around his neck. Andrew, newly four, set his small hands on the desk and bumped his uncle's right hand, making the dashes for the "t"'s in "attic" reach to the edge of the page.
"Well, boys," He turned to ruffle Andrew's head of brown hair with his hand until his nephew frowned. "I'm trying to find a gift for someone, a friend of mine."
"Is it for their birthday?" Andrew asked, anticipating another birthday present.
"Mm-mm." He shook his head.
"And I don't think it's for Christmas." Cecil said.
"True,…It's more of a…" He mentally browsed quickly. "A farewell gift, should I say. They're going away soon."
"Hey, Cecil, Andy!" They heard Mrs. Hawkinson call. "Mummy and Daddy may not be here, but Grandmum says it's bedtime." Mildred and Nathan were out on a date and wouldn't be back until later on tonight, so the Hawkinsons were watching the couple's two sons.
"Aw…" The brothers moaned in unison as they dragged themselves to their grandmother. "Good night, Uncle Jeff."
"Good night, boys." He hugged his nephews good night and returned to his list.
Let's seeeee…he continued. Attic (continued)…attic…
He paced his room deep in thought until about ten-thirty. Something snapped. A solution at last! He bent over his desk and scrawled—ask Mum and/or Dad...
The light turned out in the hallway. Out of the question. He thought as he crossed out the second half of solution number three. "Jeff, get some sleep; you've got a big day tomorrow." He imagined his mum saying. He laid down, still in what he wore today, and waited until midnight. He snuck into Amelia's room, thankfully next to his, and pulled a rope with a ring at the end, releasing a collapsible wooden ladder.
Up he climbed inside, the old musty smell filling his nostrils. The only light in there was the moon shining through a single round window. Boxes and old furniture covered with sheets being the occupants, the sight of this seemingly forlorn place brought back memories. While the Hawkinsons couldn't have a tree house due to rationing and the lack of wood and trees nearby, this large compartment served just as well. Up there served as a fort, a place for leisure such as the two daughters playing dolls and the only son reading science books or looking at constellations through a now broken telescope.
He opened the first box: filled with only a few but all-the-way-filled notebooks of research from his childhood and youth and a slim elegant diary written by a teenage Mildred. The second: not-so-crammed photo albums starting in the late 20's when his parents started courting. The third (finally): old Hawkinson family memoirs…family portraits, grandfathers' wallets, grandmothers' jewelry…wait…
A small box was pulled out, a slip of old yellow paper saying, Adwina Mildred Hawkinson…his father's paternal grandmum. He remembered her story, as his dad narrated it years ago. Grandmum Adwina married a Michael Hawkinson sometime in the mid 1800s. Only two years later at the age of twenty-four, Michael was killed in an accident while walking home from work, leaving Adwina to parent their firstborn and only son William. Through thick and thin, the mother and son managed to avoid poverty and see William grow up and start a family of his own.
Delicately he lifted the lid to reveal a ring.
Yay! Another chapter! And please, I beg of you; read and review The Invincible Adversary.
PS: Who do you think should voice Charlotte? A)Anne Hathaway B)Sandra Bullock (did Miriam in Prince of Egypt) C)Julia Louis-Drefus (did Atta in Bug's Life) D)Drew Barrymore