The House of Burgiss

Eight in Actuality

The young man stood quietly over the stove slowly turning the cakes over with a fork. The house was dark except for the flouresant lights that brightened the kitchen. Quiet movement could be heard upstairs as he added to the pile of cakes on the plate. He turned and rummaged in the near empty refrigerator, originally going in for butter but some oddity had caught his attention, feeling it necessary to dispose of it at the time, he became preoccupied. This was Conamel Fallet. The average young adult, brimming with possibility and potential. Here standing in boxers and a white tee shirt, making pancakes on an early Saturday morning was the strictly American, college boy. He came from just south of this college, where dreams were hard pressed to survive. Con had been the leader, who held the idea like a torch to all his friends. Eight altogether had decided to risk this venture into unfriendly territory to retrieve knowledge and experience the world. Luckily they had found this wonderful old house just off the campus. Almost ancient it seemed, but not foreboding, as some old houses can seem. This house seemed to welcome its new owners with open arms. The walls seemed to sigh as the dust was swept away and new furniture had began to arrive. It was as if this house had been built many all those years ago to accept Con and his friends now. In the very least that was what Con thought, on some level. He didn’t care to think about the grand scheme of things though.

Con grew up in a very small town, where there was one simple rule. Don’t make waves. Unlike many teenagers Con accepted this unspoken law with open arms. He was always regarded as out of place, in that he should be sixty not sixteen. He was almost the antithesis of all the teenage life around him. His dress was very plain, none of the flamboyant colors or designs of his friends, just simple shirts and pants. Sometimes it seemed that he wore his clothes as a uniform. That is, he wore them so that they matched his station. The usual would go as follows: A dark blue shirt, accented by the white of an undershirt tucked in at the waist; a brown belt; dark denim pants that fell to well below his ankles; leather shoes that were kept polished; well hidden white socks that came to about an inch above his ankle. In the winter, when the cold had a way of seeping through the threads of the South, he would carry a long black jacket. At times, when the wind caught it just right, he seemed to be wearing a flowing cloak such as that a person of royalty would wear. In the inside right breast of this coat there was a small pocket that always held a small leather wallet, an elegant ink pen, and a pair of black sunglasses. The left breast pocket held a silver pocket watch that amused people when they saw him check it. This odd assortment of attire may have drawn severe ridicule in the world, if it weren’t for the commanding way in which he wore it. It seemed that he belonged to this form of dress, but it was acceptable to no other.

Con was the type of person that was envied by everyone who wanted popularity and fame. It just fell on him, and, while at times he gloried in it, he had the uncanny ability to simple walk away from it. He wasn’t required to go out with the throngs of teenagers. If some of them had tried it they would have been labeled as weird and quickly scapegoated out of the crowd. So while his friends were out drinking and doing insane things, Con sat quietly at home listening to Bach and carelessly flipping through the pages of David Copperfield. Nothing seemed to matter to this young man. It really impressed his teachers that this young man would openly disapproved of drinking and sex and even relationships. He was constantly quoted “your mind is not ready to accept the full consequences and obligations of love.” He staunchly stood by this dogma, quickly breaking off relationships and, oddly, never using the phrase “I love you”.

Another young man named Tarris once confronted him. Tarris was not what you would call the intellectual and understood few things. He understood violence, beer, and sex, beyond that there was little to nothing in his mind. Tarris had become irritated at Con for breaking up with a girl. The girl is really not important, all that is needed is that she was rather superficial and cared little for anything but her reputation. Nevertheless this girl was much sought after by all of the young males in the school. Tarris was completely baffled when he heard that Con had turned her down. Tarris was trying to be gentle about it at first, but his temper, as always, got the best of him.

“What makes you think you’re better n’ her?” Tarris asked in his most civil tone.

“ I don’t feel that I am better than her, its just that we are two different breeds of people, and we don’t belong together,” Con replied with as much dignity as possible. The two were drawing a bit of a crowd in their strained efforts at civility.

“You’re a damned fool.”

“Be that as it may, I regret none of my actions.”

“Don’t talk all high and mighty to me, I’ll break your face”

“Undoubtedly, but I see no reason for you to do so. You can pursue her as much as you wish. I hope you two will be very happy together.”

“Who do you think you are to give her to me like that? I never needed a girl handed to me before and ---" Tarris quickly made a swing at Con’s head, but Con had well predicted the blow and quickly moved aside sending the aggressor flying into the crowd of people. Con simple turned, swishing his cloak in the crisp air, and disappeared into the masses of people.

It wasn’t very often that he was challenged after that. He made a complete fool out of one of the biggest people in the school and no one did that without some nerve. This coupled with a growing feeling of resentment toward his peers caused him to recede into a sort of shell. He kept very few friends and generally stayed out of the way of everyone else. The company he kept was just like him in some way or the other. Each of them having a special characteristic that distinguished them, but at the same time they shared some unseen bond that well outweighed any other. Once after a small dinner party Con himself had said a simple word that had brought them ever so much closer. He stood up very straight and held a glass before him and surveyed his friends slowly.

“What brings us to this table to eat and tell wonderful stories of our tragic lives. For that is what they are, being near perfection we teeter on the line between a successful fate and a tragic one. Yet as fate itself pulls us to tragedy something greater pulls us to success. Love.”

The word hit the group very suddenly and it disshelved them considerably. That is the manner in which he convinced them to come live with him in this eight bedroom, four bathrooms, a dining hall, a library, a den, a living room, and an enormous kitchen in which he stood now.

It was also in his nature to rise early but retire late. He was naturally a creature of morning and night; the idea of an afternoon was foreign to him. In the hot summer climate of the south it is customary to indulge one’s self in a small afternoon nap, usually taken immediately after lunch and pursued through the heat of the day. Con loved this idea more than any other and took to sleeping from one till four. He blamed his laziness on the heat, and it was a viable excuse. Therefore, with an extra few hours of rest, he was enabled to become nocturnal almost. Usually going to bed around two at the earliest and waking just before seven on the next morning. For this reason he would always be the first in the household to rise. In doing so he took it upon himself to “get the house started”. Warming it up if it was cold, turning on the necessary lights, beginning breakfast, clearing away remnants of last night---all part of this job he feels obligated to do.

It was different now though. He was no longer in a single room dormitory with only a single roommate. Now he was seemingly in his old place as the wise leader of this group of friends. He thought about it often and how it has become his hobby so to speak. People collect stamps; people play cards, Con made decisions. He enjoyed being decisive and a leader where others quailed in the face of adversity. He considered himself unique for this.

So he stands in the kitchen of this wonderful house with a pile of pancakes he judges to be enough for eight people. He rummages through a box for glasses and plates. Finding some he feels clean enough he begins to set the large round table with the tableware.

The table was really the only clean area in the entire house. Eight people constitute a large amount of “stuff”. A never ending assortment of useless items that all hold a sentimental value and were absolutely necessary for life outside the paternal home. Boxes roughly labeled are strewn all around the kitchen, into the dinning room, up the stairs, into the den, and even in the bathrooms. Each box marked with the initials of the owner and some word that describes the content’s place. Con had retrieved two place settings from a box marked “CF EATING UTENSILS.” Having run out of items in this box he rummaged around and found another also containing plates. He continued this treasure hunt until he had found eight plates, forks, and glasses from five different boxes leaving a rather colorful display on the table.

The first of his friends down was the brown haired, blue-eyed girl he met when he was four. Grace Lyle a business major and his oldest friend. She came down the stairs stumbling around the mounds of boxes lured by the smell of cooking. As beautiful as she was in everyday life, to everyday people, she lost that allure after a night of sleep. Walking with her eyes closed, dressing in pajama bottoms and an old shirt, she tried to push her hair out of the way so that she could see better. He deep brown hair was normally the most beautiful thing about her. She kept it well, as everyone learned the night before as she brushed it for almost and hour. Yet somehow it had suffered during the night, but still managed to complement her wardrobe perfectly.

Con poured her some coffee in a rather odd Coca-Cola mug, and led her to a chair, where she sat with the coffee in her hand staring at the table. It was apparent that she was not much of a morning angel.

The next pair down was Rafe Clark and Terry Jackson. The rowdy pair of guys, with the most ambition perhaps. A future lawyer, Rafe had light blond hair and deep blue eyes. He was lean cut and an exceptional athlete. He was just short of six feet and proportioned accordingly. Rafe had pulled on a tank top and a pair of old shorts and had managed to make himself slightly presentable. Terry, a student of architecture, had sandy brown hair and green eyes. He was about the same height as Rafe, but a little on the heavier side. His hair came down to his nose in the front and was very short everywhere else. It was obvious that Terry cared little about his appearance as he stood in old boxers trying to manage the button on the front. The pair said their good mornings and took seats opposite each other at the table.

The group had agreed to use the front stairs for the first few days so that boxes could be placed and transported on and up the back stairs. Unfortunately the fifth of this group had forgotten. A loud crash accompanied by a high pitch yelp told the others she had fallen down the stairs. No one made much of a move to help her because they all knew she was a bit clumsy but at the same time very bendable. After a moment she yelled, “I’m alright” in a bit of a slur because of her sleepiness. Katherine Neville was short compared to the rest at about five feet. She had sandy brown hair and deep green eyes that could almost appear yellow at times. Constantly the ray of sunshine, even now in the early morning she was smiling and being cheerful. She entered the room laughing at herself for being so stupid. She wore a large shirt that seemingly swallowed her body whole. Compared to her the room had a certain gloom about it, and this gloom tried to choke her cheerfulness down. The ditzy one of the group Kat would always be the innocent one who did her work and tried to be everyone’s friend. She sat down next to Con and began to eat after several comments about how she didn’t really like pancakes. The others quickly noticed that she wasn’t using any syrup, but, well aware of her odd eating habits, they decided it wasn’t worth an argument.

Upstairs there was a bit of confusion going on. The two upstairs bathrooms were occupied so Phenieas Drake was wandering back and forth trying to find another. He made his way downstairs making a droning noise. He walked into the kitchen and after deciding upon inspection that “this ain’t bathroom” turned around and staggered down the lower hall. Probably the most outstanding characteristic of this member of the group is that he was black. The group never really noticed it until one night, when they were all out, one of Karen’s other friends had said something a bit derogatory towards Phenias (normally called Finn, because his given name was just to “complicated”) and it had resulted in a bit of a huff between Karen and the said friend. Still this was an aspect the group had not noticed before and for the first time took it into a bit of consideration. The group had discussed this several times and how he was somehow considered out of place by people they didn’t know, but it only seemed to matter to these strangers. They tried to fathom a reason for this odd dilemma, but eventually laid it off on jealousy. He was about as tall as Con and had a similar personality. He was very bright, but sometimes a bit hasty in actions. He was pre-med and not the least bit worried over passing or not. Never had been, not really being one to concentrate on the future he spent most of his focus on the present. He walked back into the kitchen and sat one seat to the left of Terry. He used his fork to retrieve a stack of pancakes about a hand high. He gave Kat a menacing look as she continued to smile and take small sips of the coffee.

The next down was Karen. She had black hair and hazel eyes. She was undoubtedly the smartest girl and kept that no secret. She wore a white shirt and some bright yellow shorts. She sat and just stared at her plate for a minute. She found it hard to believe that she was actually sitting here eating breakfast with her friends with who she would be living for the next two or three years. She was a liberal arts major and seem rather uncontent with it but took solace in that for the time she shared her major with three of her friends. Karen wasn’t originally part of this group, but was added somewhere in the middle of high school. She moved to their hometown with her parent in her sophomore year. He father being a traveling salesman that finally decided to settle down in a town to finish raising his children. The others quickly accepted her as if she had always been there and it was only natural that she would make them an even number. Before she had had friends, but never any this close to her. It gave her a warm feeling to sit there, knowing that the people around her loved her like family.

The final person to emerge from the bedrooms upstairs was the red head. She was dressed in a large shirt just like Kat, but, what with her being a little bigger and the shirt being a little smaller, her underwear was quite visible, dark crimson panties that bore the VS of Victoria Secrets. She was certain no one minded and she was most correct. The males had long gotten over the shock of seeing their female counterparts in their “dainties” as they humorously referred to them. It wasn’t much different than a bathing suit and besides it was much to common to see the guys in their boxers, which were much more, revealing. This red headed wonder was Belle Franklin. She was just a bit larger than Kat and had sky blue eyes. Belle was a law major and it couldn’t suit her more. She moved to the final spot at the table and eagerly sought out the coffee.

Eight of them sat there, all just past twenty, all on the threshold of life.




Of Tables and Furniture

The group sat almost in a revered silence. It was as if a part of their lives was passing away. This breakfast on this Saturday was its only wake. They were growing up and they all knew it. No more wild, rash decisions. Anything and everything they did was just beginning to matter. Somehow they all knew this and felt that this time deserved a moment of silence as it passed into history. It wasn’t often that this group was quiet and in the future the silence bred here would haunt them.

Kat looked slowly from one member to the next. Somewhere in her mind a memory of a book surfaced and she began a rather length rendition of the Legend of Arthur. Most of the members already knowing, for they all read the same book, tried to quiet her enthusiasm.

“No, just listen for a second,” she said, “after he got peace for all of England, the king decided to set up a kind of noble order of knights.”

“And they had a round table, and they called themselves the “Knights of the Round Table. We should all know the story by now,” said Con with a sarcastic tone.

“But look, this is a round table,” she continued hardly noticing his harshness.

“She always was the bright one, you know, always good with geometry and what not,” commented Rafe in his exaggerated accent.

Kat looked somewhat disappointed and got quiet as she bowed her head. Con immediately seeing that her feelings were hurt was quick to assuage the situation.

“Her point is that now we sit at a round table. That perhaps we should become some noble order?” he said looking at her with sympathetic eyes. She noticed his look and once again pursued the thread with great excitement.

“Yeah, I was thinking that maybe we should take this to a woodworker and have him put our names in it, and no we wouldn’t be knights or anything like that, but we would have it as a symbol of our friendship and loyalty to each other.”

The rest of the group sneered at her sunshine and daisy attitude but Finn supported her idea.

“There is that old woodsmith down by the river, he could probably do it,” he said smiling at the ecstatic Kat.

Karen had been looking on with very little interest and decided to make a little input, “Doesn’t anyone remember that the table fell apart and most of the knights wound up dead.”

This quieted Kat’s enthusiasm somewhat.

“Well we just won’t let that happen,” said Belle with a budding enthusiasm of her own.

“Shouldn’t we have him put our signatures in the table, and not just print?” said Terry not really in a caring tone, just that he wished to be part of the planning.

“I suppose that would be more money,” said Con once again with a gloomy voice.

“Well, probably not much more,” said Grace also trying to contribute, “I think it is a wonderful idea.”

Con thought a moment and then looked at the eager faces of the girls and the placid faces of the guys. His decision made an obvious expression on his face and the girls knew immediately. They began to chatter incoherently about some other designs or symbols as such. Leaning over to Karen he whispered, “for the record this is a horrendous tempt of fate.” Beyond that his objections to the idea were never heard. Later that week an old Mr. Thomas was contacted about doing the imprint work. He was happy to oblige such “delightful young people.” Terry and Finn delivered the table, along with eight pieces of paper with their signatures in large letters, to Mr. Thomas’s store on Solomon Street.

Solomon Street is a rather odd place. The street is lined by shops of all types that aren’t usually found in places of the sort. The little street had been established back when trade caravans would come through. Legend has it that one day the caravan tired of moving about and settled down right there. Over the years shops accumulated and the Solomon Street of today was born.

About two weeks later a call was received by Grace that the work was completed and the table would be delivered at the suitable time. The arrangements were made and the table was returned to its home on a Thursday. The signatures were beautifully engraved in the polished wood in a circle as follows: Conamel, Karen, Phenieus, Grace, Terry, Belle, Rafe, and Katie.

Back to that Saturday morning though. As the group sat at breakfast, they engaged in the continual dialogue of the young adult that has no real bearing, but fills the dead spots in communication. The only other important thing discussed during their first morning in the house was the events that would transpire in the coming day.

“The last truck from home will come today. They said yesterday that they would be here just after lunch. We need to get most of this stuff put away by then,” said Con in his most authoritative tone.

Karen took his lead in discussing the pressing matters, “Somebody has to get the groceries and things.” She gave a distinctive look in the direction of Kat and Belle.

“I am gonna hook up all these blasted computers and see if I can’t run a network through these walls. I talked to the local Internet guy and procured the best connection available. It should run everyone about five bucks a month,” said Finn. He was the accepted computer expert of the group. Therefore everyone except for Con had entrusting him with setting up all of the computers and establishing the proper connections and wiring and things of the sort. Naturally, being the age it is, every single person had brought his or her own computer. Con had brought both a PC and a laptop and was very careful with both, having large amounts of writings and things saved on them.

“Terry and I are gonna finish with the painting and stuff,” said Rafe with his usual emphatic tone. Terry nodded his agreement as he poured more coffee.

“Me and Karen can be the supervisors, and put stuff where it goes,” said Grace trying to make this sound more important than it was.

“I figured that the small room just off the den could be kind of an office,” began Karen, “We could do all of the bills and the finances in there. We could keep our records and things of the like in filing cabinets and just generally make an effort to stay out of there.” The group agreed.

Con finished the conversation with a declaration of his work for the day. “I’ll be on the phone calling the utilities and the cable and what not.” He said it with a slight nod as he rose to put away his plate. The others were always grateful to him for taking care of the boring things, but it was more of a task than they realized. Above all things Con hated to talk about money and avoided it at all costs. None of his friends really knew if he was rich or not, mainly because they never saw a single transaction of money. In restaurants he would slip payments under his palm to the waiter along with a substantial tip whenever it came his turn to pay.

The members of the group dispersed to their various tasks and by the end of a long day they had the house in decent order. The floors were cleared of their boxes and cleaned extensively by Karen and Grace. Soon large rugs covered the hardwood floors and furniture was brought in. The group had pooled their resources and come up with a large sum of money to furnish the chambers. Most of their personal furniture went into their bedrooms. Each of the upstairs apartments had a bed, a desk, some type of lounging chair and a small television set. Pictures of family or some type of keepsake decorated the walls and shelves of these rooms. The upstairs was carpeted all the way to the stairs making it a more luxurious place to sleep. It was decided that the bathrooms would be used in pairs. Because their bedrooms were in the middle, Rafe, Terry, Grace, and Belle, took the two upstairs bathrooms, Con, Finn, Kat, and Karen took the two downstairs. The lavatories were equipped accordingly, the girls’ being bright with decorative soaps and multiple lotions, candles, and colorful towels, and the guys’ being cold chrome with very little besides a white bar of soap and several plain towels. The kitchen was repainted white. It complemented the black and white chessboard tile. The kitchen was rather spacious and had an island in its center on which food could be prepared with plenty of room. The oven and microwave unit was directly opposite the center of the island with the sink to its right. The refrigerator was on the side wall. A beautiful imitation Rembrant was hung on the fourth wall. It certainly gave the room a more dignified feeling. In the dining room the table was obviously the centerpiece of the original design. The entire room was circular and extremely well furnished. With the exception of a few plants and things of the sort very little was change from the first design. Obviously the painting had been specially framed to fit the circular walls. Still the room was very spacious and had a vaulted ceiling. There was nothing above it for it had been added on some twenty years after the original building was constructed. The owner of the house had let his imagination design this wondrous room, as he installed a large glass pyramid. Two large slats that came together in the center of the room some six feet above the table hid the large window. The slats were installed into the walls of the old house and worked with gears by the push of a button. Truly a remarkable place and it was what had made the rent so high. The large den area was furnished with a huge couch that surrounded a large entertainment center. It was natural to find this in a house full of young adults but it always seemed out of place in the house itself. The girls made the den very homey and soon it was the favorite room in the house to those who reside there and strangers invited in.

The house itself had been built in the early nineteen hundreds as a summer resort house in the countryside for some rich fellow by the name of C. W. Burgiss. He had drawn up the plans himself and had it built by his brothers construction firm out of Atlanta. He was very generous to the nearby college, which was at that time surrounded by very little but forests and hills. He was said to have a liking for the youth, the atmosphere made him feel younger he would say. He was seldom in the house during the winter months, being occupied in the North by business, and he had this in mind when he designed it. He would interview young college students and admit them to his house if he found them acceptable this wasn’t without profit of course. Being the shrewd businessman, he charged the students rather high rent. Nevertheless, students strove to be admitted to live there because it was the ideal environment for those who wanted to live on their own. The old man would sometimes visit the students in the winter, staying in the first floor bedroom. They loved his company because he would throw endless parties in honor of their achievements. He wasn’t stingy when it came to food and drink, not even through the war. It was rumored that he was in fact a member of the draft board, and regaled himself in the presence of youth to ease his conscience over sending young boys to the battlefield. Still his endeavors to keep his tenants pleased continued into the fifties when he paid to have the entire house redone in a more modern fashion, celebrating this renovation with a daylong gala. The old man passed at the age of 73 in 1974. It was discovered at his wake that, not only did he have the house in question, but he owned several other houses much the same. Hundreds of old tenants arrived to pay their respects for a “well remembered home away from home.” Burgiss had cleverly set up an estate that could manage its funds to pay for the upkeep of the house for the next thirty years without question. He set down the estate clearly with his lawyers long before he died. “The said houses should not fall into disrepair, and should be leased to entering freshmen who could then hold the lease for a consecutive five years. The money gained should go to the upkeep and preservation of the house outside of renovations by the current tenants, and any extra monies going to the benefit of the college appointed to each house.” This was obviously a great concern of Burgiss. It had been finely shaped into a very sound legal document that did preserve the 23 houses in question until this day. Rents had remained the same, adjusting to inflation, throughout the years. “The amount of rent shall hold my place in determining the character of the tenant.” This idea offended several, but nevertheless it succeeded in its goal. For the entire time after his death, no large and purposeful damage was done to the houses. In his eyes, lesser men would be more prone to such destruction. The amount of rent shall not be disclosed, but it is safe to say that it was no small amount. This is how the houses remain intact, and suitable for this group to live.

Preachers and Pies

Sundays came with the same routine for the entire time spent in the house. Around eight there would be three slight knocks on the door to each of the bedrooms. Con made only the small noise and nothing more, believing that if the person wanted to be awakened those small sounds would do the trick. Karen awakes with the rest and began to ready herself for church. She was the first to the shower and lucky for it. Eight people using one water heater had become a problem. Con had made the arrangements for a second to be installed.

All of them dressed and met in the dinning room for the largest breakfast of the week. Usually prepared by Kat it consisted of the usual Southern delicacies. Biscuits, eggs, grits, bacon, ham, jelly, syrup, sliced fruit, and sausage covered the round table. The group would leisurely take this meal, discussing events of the preceding night. At around nine thirty they would get into the two largest cars and drive out of the city to a small church.

The church was located on the outer rim of the city. It was rather small in membership, what with most of the people going into the city to the larger churches. It didn’t have any real alluring aspects to it. No stained glass windows, no extravagant design. A simple red brick building, that rose into a white roof and up to the top of a high steeple. On top of the steeple was a white cross, surrounded in gold trim. Unfortunately it leaned to one side because a misguided bird had run into it. Being so high off the ground, it was judged to be a too large inconvenience to fix. Besides, it wasn’t really noticeable.

The group of eight would come in a few minutes before the services began. When they first started coming, the elderly members were delighted that the local youth had come to join them. Most of the congregation was made up of the senior citizens, but several middle-aged families with children also filled the ranks. Con would sit on one end of the pew and Finn on the other; the space between them had no distinct order. The four males dressed in a shirt and tie, the ladies in dresses. It had been unanimously decided that they would do as little as possible to draw attention to themselves.

The two wiser males would follow along in their Bibles as the preacher spoke, but occasionally it was easily noticed they were reading completely separate passages. Kat and Belle enjoyed the singing the most leaping at each opportunity to sing one of their favorite hymns. Terry, Rafe, and Grace would sit quietly with their eyes on the speaker sometimes nodding their head or laughing at a small joke. Karen would hardly look at the preacher, but more often kept her eyes on some inanimate object in the pulpit. They all sat like this almost every week for one hour, diligently opening their ears to the wisdom of this stranger.

After the services the group would mingle with the other members. They were often asked questions about their “schooling”. Several of the older women in the church took a special liking to Finn and Grace. These women more than once supplied the group with fresh baked pies from home. Kat was often in conversation with the choir instructor. He was usually begging her to join, but she would always respectfully decline saying she had a full schedule. Con could be found in a theological conversation with the preacher. Terry and Belle spent the majority of this time entertaining the small children of the church. Rafe was occupied by the elder men who would ask questions about his ambitions. Several of these men were brothers who owned a small law office. Both of them being retired were not slow in offering their advice. Karen spent her time in light conversation with the younger women of the church. They discussed their problems and complaints, usually badmouthing their husbands, but insisting they were the best men on earth.

Con was always the one who signaled the time to leave. He would drop his conversation with the minister and shake his hand. He called to his friends as he shook hands with other members of the church. As the group left, the members would smile and make comments such as “remarkable young people” and “such ambition and determination.”


Queen takes Bishop

To walk into Karen’s room was to walk into plainness. No vibrant colors, no outstandingly odd items. A simple wooden bed with white sheets and bedspread, and white encased, goose feather pillows. The desk on the opposite wall was covered in papers of different purposes. Lighted by an old reading lamp the desk was certainly her main station in the small room. Its drawers held further papers, pencils and pens, a small dictionary, a small staple, ink eraser, and the continued assortment of desk materials. The papers that covered her workstation were almost thought out works of color. First the material was written in a fine black handwriting, then laced with red corrections that filled the margins and encased the page, yellows, oranges, greens, and purples filled the paper to highlight important sentences or memorable phrases. To the right of this desk a computer was set up on a small table with a printer positioned on top of the CPU on the floor. The monitor was covered in yellow notes, which were never heeded. At the end of the room was the television that would constantly stay on but seldom was any attention given to it. Too wrapped up in her work, Karen would often watch the box for a moment before muting its voice and turning her attention to a paper of some sort.

In this sanctuary she would constantly spend hours writing reports, papers, and journals. She would study under her reading lamp into the late hours of night and into the morning hours of the next day. Rarely would she be seen before an exam the next day. She would take her supper with all the others, but she wouldn’t stay for the after eating lounging that the others made a habit of. The others admired her rigorous study habits, but did not strive to attain them.

Like the others she had a phone in her room. She was on the second line. The house being so large and accommodating so many had three separate phone lines. This was her greatest link to her home. She had the habit of calling her mother for every problem, much the same as many other young women. She wouldn’t trust her own judgement, but easily followed the instructions of her mother. She made the habit of conversing with her father at least once a week. It was many times the same conversation with the same questions and answers. Have you decided on a different major? No. How are things in the house? Wonderful. You have everything you need? Yes. Her father would always end these talks with the same overly sentimental comments. If you are ever in need for anything, you pick up the nearest phone and call. The words had a great impact and their true meaning was great indeed. Karen thought of it many times. This man that raised me, carting me from town to town, loves me dearly. To drop everything and hurry blindly into the face of any situation to save me. Parental love in its finest. She often criticized her parents failing attempts at nurturing in her younger days. They had been a bit too naïve for her.

Her studies took up most of her week, but she did realize that fun was necessary for good health. She would make every effort to put aside Saturday evenings to be with her friends or be away from them. She enjoyed their company greatly, but tired of the same people over and over. From moving around so much she was used to a large number of friends. She would go to a small coffee shop that was frequented by the bunch during the week, but generally avoided on the weekends. Here she would meet other friends that were passing through or make new ones with other coffee lovers.

Stuart Thompson was one of these persons. He was frequented the shop on the weekends with a large book under his arm. He would sit in a small window seat near the back of the shop. There he would read in silence for hours on end rarely disturbed. The nice middle-aged waitress knew not to bother him, just to simple refill his cup every hour. The man was well regarded by the other frequenters of the shop. He was about twenty-five and had been coming there on the weekends for the better part of the last three years.

As Karen sat in the quaint little shop she noticed that he had just finished one of his lengthy novels. He seemed a bit out of place sitting there without a book in front of him. She took the opportunity, wanting someone to talk to.

“May I sit,” she said ever so cordially as she stood behind the chair.

“Certainly,” he replied motioning to the opposite chair.

She placed her cup down and slowly sat. Stuart never really looked at her.

“I see you in here quite often,” said Karen. “I come here to get away from my friends actually. They get a little habitual nowadays, like family.”

Stuart nodded, his eyes on the small cup in front of him.

“You obviously like reading, and maybe you even like coffee.”

He smiled at the slight humor. His eyes rose to meet hers. A deep green that jumped out at her as he peered into her. She became slightly uncomfortable, but not really concerned with the man across from her. He was only a pastime.

“I find this place to be relaxing, wonderful for reading,” he said, “ So quiet for no real reason, accepted silence. The library is mandatory silence and it leaves a heavy feeling in the air. The coffee keeps me awake.”

He smiled at her, not the flirtatious smile that is much to overused and many times misunderstood, but a deeper more honest smile. She returned the smile, but somehow felt inadequate to be sitting here.

“Do you go to the college?” she asked.

“Yes, senior year actually. I’ll have my degree in a year’s time. You must be attending the college as well.”

“Yeah, but before you even ask, I’m
Liberal Arts.”

“Couldn’t pick eh?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Education for myself; I want to teach high school English.”

“I swore I would never return to that place,” she said with a laugh.

“Yeah so did I.”

He did not continue, and seemed quite finished. This was an obviously odd thing to say without continuing. She let it drop thinking that maybe he didn’t wish to discuss it.

“Chess?” she asked turning to retrieve the set on the table behind her.

“No, I don’t know how I’m afraid,” he answered rather ashamedly.

“I’ll show you, it’s easy. I’m sure an educated professor of English could learn quick enough.”

With that the pair sat there as Karen discussed the rules of the game. She demonstrated the allowed movement for each of the pieces. Naturally the best teacher would be experience so after several minutes they began a game. It took a while, but it was clear from the beginning who was winning. They continued playing conversing casually about Karen’s major, her friends, where she was living, her plans, and much more about Karen. Stuart was eager to hear more about her, and Karen wasn’t about to surrender the spotlight. They sat there until two the next morning, the owner retiring to the back to sleep entrusting them not to “make off with the beans.”

As she returned home she found Grace asleep on one end of the enormous couch and Belle sitting up rather drearily on the opposite end. She smiled sleepily at her friend as she watched the near silent television. Belle motioned to the sleeper and held a finger to her lips to indicate the required silence. She stood and walked to the bottom of the stairs to join Karen almost making no sound.

“What did you do tonight?” she asked checking a large grandfather clock for the time.

“I played chess,” Karen said simply as she climbed the stairs.

Belle gave her a funny look and followed her up the flight and went silently into her room, shutting the door. Karen walked down the hall and into her room. She went to her closet and as quietly as possible removed a cardboard box. From this she removed a rectangular wooden chest. Opening it she took out a square wooden chessboard and two small bags, one black, one white. Taking out each of the crystal pieces she polished it with a small cloth also found in the chest. Her parents had given her this set and though she never really had anyone to play with she enjoyed it immensely. Con would sometimes play her, but she would seldom beat him. Grace had learned to play saying enthusiastically that she would become the greatest player in the world. Even with weeks of practice she still played worse than Stuart had played his first time. Stuart the Teacher, Stuart the Coffee Drinker, Stuart the Reader. Oddly these names popped into her head, but she quickly dismissed them. She cleared a place on the side of her desk and placed the chess set on it. She turned the lights out and quickly fell into a dreamless sleep.

She awoke the next morning and went through the usual Sunday routine. She returned home with a picnic basket filled with homemade jams. The others made their way into the appropriate rooms to change clothes. Karen followed suit and then returned downstairs to join the others at the table. The materials to make sandwiches along with leftover odds and ends from the week filled the table.

“Karen, what did you do last night?” asked Terry as he spread mustard on a piece of bread.

“Chess,” said Belle a smile and a patronizing look in her eye.

“Well, to elaborate, I was down at the coffee place and I talked to that guy that always reads in the corner,” she said looking for acknowledgement. “I got one of the chess sets and asked him if he knew how to play. He didn’t so I taught him for a few hours.”

“So what was he like?” said Grace.

“He was sweet, very smart I think, but all he does is read.”

“Stuart isn’t it?” asked Con in his uncaring tone.

“Yeah, how did you know.”

“I met him at the college. I recognized him from the shop and decided to meet him. He struck me as nice. Going into education if I’m not mistaken.”

His last sentence wasn’t a question at all. Karen was struck with an uncommon feeling of jealousy. Stuart had been her friend and here was Con telling everyone about him. Irrational feeling though, she put it out of her mind.

Throughout the following week, Karen attended her classes. Somehow they had lost their intrigue and she felt bored as she sat there day after day. By the time the weekend rolled around she was in a state of depression. She had realized the pointlessness in her studies. She wanted a specific field and the call to her father didn’t relieve her anxiety any. Saturday evening she once again sat in the coffee shop. She had declined the offer to go to a movie with the others, saying she wanted silence. Besides Finn had invited someone else along and she wouldn’t be missed.

She had her coffee in front of her swirling it around with the small red straw. She looked up to notice Stuart replicating her movements in his usual booth. He didn’t have a book, which was uncommon altogether. Even when they were playing chess, a book had remained on the table. Karen got up and once again went to his table.

“May I?” she asked.

He looked up and immediately a nostalgic smile came across his face.

“Certainly.”

“Did you read every book in the world, so that you sit here waiting for another to be written?” she asked as she sat.

“No, not quite. I just haven’t had time to return to the book store.”

“Well, what shall we do to occupy these hours of our lives?”

He looked to the chessboard a few tables over. He stood and for the first time she noticed his appearance. He was tall, much like Con, and wore a black leisure suit. His brownish hair covered his head down to his lake blue eyes. His smile was almost perfect. She also noticed his hands as he set the board down. They were very course and rough.

“I’ll be black, you move first,” he said arranging the pieces.

They played several games and progressed through several topics of conversation. None of these really important, but they did remain on the topic of Stuart. He asked where her friends were and she told him. Then they went into conversations about school and where she was living and things of the sort. Abruptly she asked a rather difficult question.

“Do you want to go out?” she said rather startled that she had even been able to form the words. She was terrified at the answer.

“That would be nice,” he said with no twinge of excitement or any sparkle of glee. “I know a good place to about two blocks from here. Italian. Montero’s.”

This was the only Italian restaurant in town and he was taking a bit of a risk asking her to go there. She was much more likely to enjoy an American dinner.

“That would be divine, how about next Friday,” she said shocked over using the word ‘divine.’

He nodded his head and then lowered his eyes to the chessboard. He moved a knight and took her queen. He smiled with a little grunt of triumph. She quickly moved her rook and slammed it down near his king.

“Checkmate.”

The following week went by rather quickly. She didn’t spend near as much time in her room as she had previously. She was in the den, stretched out alongside Rafe, almost everyday. Once when she wrestled the remote away from Terry, she had found the International Chess Finals on ESPN. She became completely enthralled. Terry quickly became comatose.

On Friday evening she declined dinner with the rest. Once again Con, Kat, and Grace were going to a movie. Rafe and Belle had papers due by the end of the weekend. Finn was going out with the same person once again. Terry was going home for the weekend. Karen left the house at eight and made her way to the coffee shop. Stuart said that it was the about the same distance from either of their homes and closer to their destination. She saw him standing under the street light wrapped in a long coat because of the cold. This struck her as rather romantic and hurried to meet him. She was dressed in a tight fitting shirt and pants that was covered by a long white coat. He was smiling when she reached him.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

They made their was across the street and walked down to Monitor’s. They entered the dark restaurant and they were promptly seated. The waiter had taken their coats and it was very warm in the room. The air was filled with the scents of a thousand different spices and flavors. Candles placed in small glass fixtures all along the walls lighted the room. The place couldn’t be more wonderful she thought as Stuart ordered for her. Music was coming from somewhere. A very old waltz it seemed or something like it.

“Do you like Italian food?” he asked.

“Yes, very much,” she said feeling like a schoolgirl under his stare.

“I haven’t been here in a long time. I don’t go out to eat much.”

“I don’t see why, you seem like the person with hundreds of friends.”

“Oh, that isn’t the problem. People like me, its just I don’t care much for people.”

Karen felt uneasy at this comment, but it was lost as the waiter returned with their drinks and some bread. Karen didn’t eat any, not wanting to spoil her food.

“It will be a few minutes before you food is ready sir. I apologize, but we have had a small incident in the kitchen and our orders are backed up.” The waiter was a strikingly honest sounding man, who was genuinely sorry for their inconvenience. Stuart said they would wait and expect nothing in return. The waiter hurried off to another table. Stuart glanced around for something to occupy their time.

“Do you dance?” asked Karen seeing his problem.

“No,” he said after a pause.

“Well, do you know how and choose not to, or do you not know.”

“I don’t know how,” he said after another thoughtful pause.

“Then, I’ll show you.”

She stood up and took his hand. She led him over to an open spot in the room where there was plenty of room. She took his left hand and pressed it firmly against her side and took his right into her left and straightened their arms out.

“Now it is incredibly simple. Just mimic what I do and try not to step on my feet.”

She began to lead him and he caught on suprisingly quickly. The others in the restaurant paid close attention to the young couple ballroom dancing to the old Italian music. They danced like that for some fifteen minutes. It delighted the older couples in the room and soon they too stood and danced in their own fashion. When the waiters returned, still apologetic, they were grabbed by someone and were soon dancing as well. When the food was finally prepared, the dancers were a bit sad. They shook hands with their partners (for some had switched in all the hubbub) and found their way back to their companions. Karen had been dancing with a nice old Italian man that kissed her cheek as they parted saying it was the most fun he had in years.

Karen returned home at about three. All of downstairs was dark except for an orangish light coming from the office room. She crept over to it silently and pushed the door open. The swivel chair behind the desk was turned facing the window. Con sat there with his eyes closed. She knew immediately he wasn’t asleep. She stood in the doorway for a moment.

“Have fun?” he asked his voice deafening in the silence.

“Yes.”

His eyes closed once again and she stood
there for only a second longer. She closed the door behind her and went upstairs.

Thanksgiving had come very quickly. Karen remained discontent with her studies and she continued to see Stuart, but had yet to bring him home. The business of the others at this point is detailed in their own stories. It was planned to have a small supper at their house and then to return home to be with their families for the big meal on Thanksgiving Day. Room was made at the table for everyone’s guests. Finn was bringing the girl, Kat had invited her brother, and Grace had her boyfriend coming from home. Rafe was going up north to celebrate with family and had taken Terry with him. They were cousins after all. Belle had almost invited her mother but thought better of it. Karen had naturally invited Stuart. The guests began to arrive around five. They were all eager to get out of the chilling cold outside. Con was the first to greet everyone and tell him or her where their counterpart was. He led each of the guests into the den and introduced them to everyone and then did the same in the kitchen. The kitchen was a disaster area. Kat was in charge and was having a hard time managing Grace and Belle. She did it nicely and prepared an enormous feast for them. She had to excuse herself to freshen up as she had spilled flour all over her and in bending to clean it up got a large amount in her hair.

Con opened the door and greeted Stuart with a firm handshake, almost pulling him in by his arm. He led him to the den where Karen met him. Con told that he had something to do in the kitchen and would speak with Stuart over supper. Karen led him to the couch and they sat down, not as a couple, but as friends. The large entertainment center blared with the noise of football. Finn and Grace’s boyfriend Clark were arguing over the previous play. Seeing Stuart they thought they would allow him to decide.

“Which way should it have gone left or up the middle?” asked Clark.

“Well, which way did it go?” replied Stuart.

“It went right and was stopped for a loss of seventeen,” said Finn.

“Well, with what little I know about the teams, I would have to say it should have been run up the middle. Their secondary is overly concerned with the pass, and try as they might to hide it they will always react to it first. For this reason I think that the more than adequate blockers of the other team could easily have created a hole and he could have made ten yards before the secondary could react.”

The two guys were somewhat impress. Finn punched Clark in the arm with a smirk. The four of them were soon joined by Cole, Finn’s friend, and then Con returned. He announced that supper was prepared and that everyone should assume his or her place at the table. He quickly disappeared upstairs most likely to tell Kat to hurry.

They entered the dining room, which was decorated in fall colors, something Belle had done in her spare time. The all sat down leaving the appropriate chairs open for Kat and Con. Stuart sat to the immediate right of Con and to the left of Karen. Grace brought in all the food in stunning silver dishes that the group had purchased for such occasions. Kat led Con into the room and she sat down. Con stood at the head of the table and gave a little speech as was the custom of his family.

“Welcome friends and loved ones. We are here to celebrate several things. First, the innumerous things we have to be thankful for. These people with us today, this house that surrounds us, our schooling, the meal before us, that on this holiday all our families are safe at home and we ourselves are safe here. Secondly, the day of Thanksgiving has somewhat of a nationalist meaning. What are we more grateful for than our freedom? And lastly, we celebrate the beginning of the Christmas season, which will bring us much joy and happiness. Now we are nothing without our Father, therefore we must give thanks to him for all that exists, all that has passes, and all that has come to pass.”

With that the small group bowed their heads and Con led them in their prayers. A moment of silence and then all the heads raised.

“Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die,” said Finn.

The covers on the dishes were removed in a rush of steam and wonderful smells. Turkey was the main course obviously, and it was enormous taking up most of the room on the table. Mashed potatoes, butterbeans, peas, yams, and ham dumplings flanked the gargantuan bird. To the front of it laid the pan of dressing and to its rear was a small ham, half salted, half sweet. The meal went very smoothly with hundreds of comments to the chef and whoever picked out these beautiful dishes. Football was discussed by the men, and a huge dislike of football was discussed by the women. They talked about plans for the rest of the holiday, and then about the remainder of the school year, at which point the promised conversation arose between Con and Stuart.

“Well, Con, I must say that was an excellent speech,” said Stuart in a stately manor.

“Yes, I think I’ve given it about seventeen times now,” replied younger man. “Now, I must ask if you ever did solve that problem of yours.”

“I think I have it worked out, yes. Someone has been a marvelous help to me with it, but now I have a new one bred from the first.”

“I see. Well, concerning the first, you will pursue it then.”

“Yes, I will begin the final stage after Christmas, and be done with it at graduation.”

No one was paying attention to them, and none of this conversation was heard by Karen or any other. Belle had retrieved the desserts from the kitchen. Two sweet potato pies, three pecan pies, and a large chocolate cake. The pies had been delivered that morning by some of the women of the church wanting them to have “a complete and wholesome dinner and dessert.”

The group finished eating and moved into the den where they all lounged lazily on the couch. Coffee was served by Karen and the cake was brought in by Kat. Clark was quickly asleep with Grace snuggled up against him. Eyelids were drooping all around the room. Cole said she had to leave to pack for her trip home tomorrow. Finn walked her out. Kat and her brother walked out to the back to get some fresh air and discuss family matters. Stuart stood suddenly.

“I’m afraid that I must be going as well,” he said.

“I’ll walk you out,” said Karen

Con stood to shake his hand and then disappeared to his bedroom. Karen walked Stuart to the street where his car was parked.

“That was fun; I ate too much,” he said holding his stomach.

“I guess I’ll see you after we get back then,” she said with a certain level of disappointment in her voice.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then.”

He kissed her on the cheek and quickly got into his car. She waved at him as he drove away. Christmas came and went for Karen without many incidents. The actions of the others will be detailed when it is their turn. She didn’t see very much of Stuart, but kept in touch. The hustle and bustle of Christmas pulled them apart and they didn’t see each other until the New Year. They met at the house once again for the yearly party.

“New Year’s comes but twice a year”

Karen was sipping a drink, laughing at the drunk, when she saw him come in. The party was obviously open door, meaning anyone could enter. The countdown blared on the entertainment system in the den. People were crammed into every corner of the downstairs area. Only five people were upstairs. Stuart was obviously looking for someone, but didn’t want to draw attention to himself. Karen, with some difficulty, parted the masses of people to reach him.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Listen, I have to be honest, I---

He didn’t finish. The entire room burst into a yell of Happy New Year. She leapt up and kissed him. Then the whole lot of them began singing Auld Lang Syne. She stepped back from him and went to a nearby drawer. She pulled out a small package wrapped in silver paper and a bow. She led him outside of the din, passing a furious looking Kat on the way out. They sat in the old swing at the far end of the porch.

“It’s a Christmas present,” she said pushing it into his hands.

He slowly peeled away at the paper. He unwrapped a small wooden box, upon opening it he discovered the crystal chess set.

“My father gave me that, said it would make me a better person. He told me that no matter where we went, or what happened in each town, there would always be chess.”

“That’s so---I mean I don’t---you can’t give me this,” he stammered almost incoherently.

“My father is a crazy old fool.”

They both laughed, and then fell into an awkward silence. Stuart looked out at the lawns. The decision could be seen in his eyes as it was made.

“I am going to tell you something in a minute and don’t just say anything until I’m done,” he said almost choking on the words.

She just looked up at him with trusting eyes, believing him to be incapable of something bad. He stammered trying to find the correct words when his thoughts were interrupted.

“Wonderful thing the new year,” said a familiar voice from the doorway.

Con stood there, but never looked at the couple. He leaned against the door’s frame. Dark circles surrounded his eyes. His punch was gone and he held only a cup of ice, twirling it around to get it to melt.

“Everything bad just washes away and everything begins new,” said the figure.

He turned and walked inside, climbing the stairs to his bedroom. Stuart watched him go and then sat next to Karen. He didn’t say anything and looked quite sad.

“You were going to tell me something?” she asked.

“Nevermind, just that I won’t be at the coffee shop anymore. I have my in room teacher training this semester.”

He moved to put the chess set back in her hands, but she refused it.

“Make it one of those things that goes around the world teaching. Well, I taught you and now you have it, just like my father taught me and then gave it to me. You can teach someone to play and then they can keep it and continue. Make it a tradition.”

She finished and Stuart looked on the verge of tears. He didn’t reply he just gathered the box in his hands and walked away. Karen didn’t watch him walk to his car, but she turned and went to her bedroom. She went to the small window and looked out over the street. She saw his car and she saw him in it. His head rested on the steering wheel, for a minute and then the car drove away.

As the new term began Karen returned to her old habits. Her desk once again filled with papers and she spent all of her spare time with her friends. She had missed them, and it made her feel at home to be with them. Still her classes left her feeling empty, but then again she was never satisfied with Liberal Arts. She still made the weekly phone call to her parents that reminded her of this. Her friends were having their own problems and she thought hers had to be of lesser importance. She did wander into the small office looking for Con once. He wasn’t there, at class. She did notice a thick leather bound book that she had seen Con with, but decided it too private to even touch. Her next best bet was Kat, but she was gone to buy groceries. Terry was sitting on the couch that day, and he won by default. She knew he wasn’t the wisest or the smartest, but he would nod his head and drop small bits of wisdom he collected from others.

“Terry, can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked her mind wearied from her search.

“Sure, just let me finish watching this.”

He was watching MTV, some old guy was wandering around without a shirt on, spilling out curse words. Terry noticed the forlorn look in his friend’s face and turned the set off.

“What’s up?” he said.

“I don’t know, its just been a while since I’ve really talked.”

“So, I’m gonna have to figure out what’s wrong.”

“No, never mind, I’ll just wait for Kat.”

“Now wait one minute, there ain’t nothing she could say that I can’t. Now get to talking.”

She sat there for a moment staring into her friend’s eyes. Nothing but honesty and pure heartedness.

“My major has really been bothering me lately, and it really started back when I met Stuart. I guess he took my mind off of it. Anyway, I feel like a huge ax is hung by a thread over me and if I don’t decide my career soon its going to fall, and there will be me chopped in half, in blood and goo and it’s really beginning to scare me.”

“Well, what ever happened to Stuart?” he said trying to sound sympathetic.

“I haven’t seen him since New Year’s and that was three months ago. He said he had to be a student teacher for this last term. I really liked him and he never even acknowledged my existence. I taught him how to play chess for heaven’s sake.”

Terry was thoughtful for one moment and if life was a cartoon, at this moment a bright light bulb would have appeared over his head.

“Con told me once, I don’t remember why, but he and I were talking. He said that life was nothing but a dramatic series. It went from high dramatic points to normal points. Now stay with me. He said that after every peak of drama the scale would go back to normal. The normal times were the good times, when everybody was happy. The dramatic times were like tragedies or confrontations. He was being all philosophical, but he said that maybe if you just hurried the dramatic points you could spend more time in the normal points.”

He sat back being very pleased with remembering this. Karen just stared at him, trying to find some solution in this theory.

“So what should I do?” she asked still contemplating what he said.

“Uh, maybe I left something out. That’s the way he told it to me, I think. Well, you have to find the next dramatic point, or make one yourself.”

“I should find Stuart and ask him to marry me?” she said sarcastically.

“Yeah, wait, no don’t ask him to marry you, but ask him out or something. Kinda like busting into a wedding right when the preacher says that line and screaming out ‘I object’.”

She sat and reconsidered her statement. She wished that it had come directly from Con. Perhaps it would have made more sense that way. Still, she had a solution and a revelation. She loved him.

About a week later she asked one of the professors about where Stuart was completing his student teaching. She was told that he had been assigned to Cedar Hollow High School, not more than thirty miles away.

On the Monday before her spring break she drove the old winding roads to the small high school. She didn’t wonder where its name had come from. She had driven through miles of a cedar forest. She enjoyed the drive immensely; she felt as if she left her axe back at the college. The wonderful smell surrounded her as she got out of her car. The school was red brick and white. Two large panther statues guarded the entrance. One white and one black. She marveled at them for a moment before a gray haired man came over to her.

“That black one is Moonlight, and the white one is Angel,” said the little old man gesturing to the appropriate statue. “The legend goes that these two guarded the hollow back in frontier times. They built the school when the little town struck up. It was said that these two would pounce on the children if they attempted to leave school before time.”

“Interesting,” she said smiling at the old man. This is perhaps one of the only times he gets to tell that story to someone who doesn’t know it. He was almost ecstatic as he walked off to sweep a sidewalk. She glanced at her watch, almost three. The school would soon let out. She walked around the two statues admiring the well-kept grounds. Perhaps even better than those at the college. Spring flowers had begun to bloom in the many flowerbeds that surrounded the grounds. Butterflies and bees could be seen going to and fro, continuing the life circle. The bell rang at precisely three. Hundreds of students left quickly, laughing and even singing. For a moment she remembered the high school life. Strict order, a constant schedule, and a goal. Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice.

“Karen?”

She turned and there standing against the black panther was Stuart. He had on his usual shirt and tie, and he held a briefcase. He had his reading glasses on and looked very tired. Several students were walking by.

“Have a good night Mr. Thompson!” they yelled at their teacher.

“Drive safe kids,” he yelled back.

“So, Mr. Thompson, you sound so grown up,” said Karen as she walked over to him.

“Eventually people have to grow up,” he said coldly.

She was taken aback by his icy stare. She immediately had second thoughts about this idea. She also had a thought of Terry being hung by his toes.

“Karen, I don’t know why you are here, but it is a good thing you came.”

He put his briefcase on the statue and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“I lied to you.”

He said it quickly and sharply. It was like a knife had suddenly been plunged into her stomach. She actually felt sick. She didn’t even know what about yet.

“From the day I met you I lied to you constantly. About everything, even the little things. Like the time I told you I couldn’t swim and you tried to teach me how. I always knew how to swim. From the time I was eight, I was swimming like a duck.”

“Why, why would you…”

“I don’t really know why I started. No, I do. I wanted to be mean. I wanted to take something beautiful and destroy it. Then you played chess.”

“What!” she exclaimed quite appalled at this thing in front of her.

“Do you remember what you said that night? About how you would never go into a high school again in your life. I answered in the same way. I said the same thing, even though seconds before I told you I was going to be a teacher. The truth is that on that night, I had decided to drop out of college because I thought teaching was idiotic and unrewarding. Then you played chess. I lied and said that I didn’t know how, and you taught me. I saw something in your eyes then that saved my life. Then it was dancing. The way that you delighted in sharing your knowledge. Your expressions made up my mind. I decided to stick it out and see if I could fall in love with it again. That is why I am here today.”

She was astonished. Her eyes were filled with tears. She didn’t really know why, but she was sad. He had never loved her, nor even liked her, in a way he used her. She still had the sick feeling in her stomach. He had turned to his briefcase and withdrew the old crystal chess set.

“Here, I don’t deserve this. You said yourself that you could only pass it to someone who you taught how to play.”

She took it from him as the tears rolled down her face. Why am I crying was the only thought in her mind. But deep down she knew. You loved him; you loved an unreal thing. See him now, he is cold and evil. This blasted chess set would be burned. She hated it and him. She couldn’t speak because of her rage.

“I don’t know what you are thinking, but I have a few more things to say. I really liked you, but I couldn’t come to love you because of my lies and my treachery. I hate myself for it and I don’t expect you to forgive me. Yet you gave me something that has become my salvation. You may not want me to have it now, but you aren’t capable of taking it back. I am eternally grateful.”

He stopped. She was steadying herself against Angel. His eyes, those deep trusting eyes, they were gray now.

“I’m sorry.”

Then he was gone. She didn’t see him leave, but through her tears she saw sunlight come from over the statue. She was broken. She had finally latched onto something, but it was only an illusion. She hadn’t loved him. It was a ruse that her mind told her heart just to make it stop hurting. A hand on her shoulder startled her. She wiped at the tears on her face and looked into the deep brown eyes of the old man who once again stood beside her. Such a kind old man, with such wonderful eyes.

“A long time ago some great men discovered what they called one of the great laws. They didn’t work they just sat and scratched their heads and thought. One day they sent one of em out to tell everybody something. That fellow went from house to house he said, ‘There is nothing so terrible that can come to pass on this earth without some good coming of it. Look beyond the destruction into the tomorrow and there you will find happiness once again.”

The old man patted her shoulder and the disappeared into the building. Karen had stopped crying.

She arrived home around seven. She had stopped to eat on her way home, not wanting to be around her friends. She spent the entire drive thinking, about what Terry had said, about what Stuart had said, and about what the kind old man had said. She didn’t really come to any conclusion and it still was on her mind as she walked into the dining room. Con was sitting there writing in the leather bound book. He looked up as she walked in and then turned his attention back to his writing. She sat in the spot that had her name engraved on it.

“Told you did he?” Con asked in his usual non-caring tone.

“What do you know about it?” Karen sighed.

“Everything, he told me the second time I met him. He wanted my advice.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Now I wouldn’t be much of a confidant if I went around telling everyone about the advice I gave to others.”

“I don’t really care anyway. I don’t care about anything anymore.”

“I take it you haven’t found out yet.”

“What?”

“The lesson you should have taken from all of this.”

She didn’t answer. She quickly went to her room and threw herself on the bed. She sat up about ten minutes later and looked around the room. Her bag was already there. Belle or someone must have brought it up while she was talking to Con. She took the chess set out and placed it on her bed. She sat there gazing at the little pieces for a few minutes before Con tapped on her door. She called for him to enter. He came in and sat opposite her on the bed.

“Shall we?”

She nodded and the two began to play. They went on in silence, the only sound coming from the tap of the pieces as they were placed on the board. Karen watched as her opponent skillfully set her up from the very beginning. She saw a threatening final attempt and quickly stopped it.

“Ah, see there you have taught me something. The teacher will fail when he or she stops learning. I never cease to learn.”

With that he moved his bishop to take her queen and corner her king.

“Checkmate.”

He stood and kissed her on the forehead. She hardly noticed. Once he left the room she reached for her phone. Speed Dial two, her parents. Her mother answered the phone.

“Mama, put Daddy on the line.”

“Okay honey,” she said with obvious worry in her voice.

“Karen is something wrong,” her father said in a commanding voice.

“No, Daddy, I just wanted to talk.”

“Well, do you need anything?”

“No.”

“The house and your friends ok?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“What about that decision?”

“Daddy, I want to be a teacher.”




Mr. Drake

On Thursdays, beginning at two in the afternoon, Finn had an Ethics of Surgeons class under the direction of Miss Wymore. There was no other class he despised more. He usually took a seat three rows back, so as not to be too close and yet not be too far. She was in fact a doctor, but she despised the title and insisted upon being called Miss. Miss Wymore would stand in front of her students dressed in a straight fitting, simple designed dress wearing high heeled black shoes. She would peer out with of her black horn-rimmed glasses, her eyes being the most livid part of her face. Despite her age her face was free from many of its years. Students would attribute it to the tightness of the bun on the top of her head, but whether or not that was the case she had very few wrinkles. The hair woven into the tight bun was originally black, but now showing gray in most places. This woman seemed to step out of every student’s nightmare of a horrible teacher. Cold hearted as possible, she liked no one, and couldn’t care whether one failed or passed. The best strategy to avoiding her malice was to never speak, never move, and regulate your breathing.

Unfortunately, Finn ruined his chances at being ignored on his first day. On that particular Thursday, he came into the classroom after a wonderful lunch with his friends, the bluebird of happiness. Unknowingly he carried on a rather loud conversation with an old friend from home who was in the seat behind him. He didn’t notice the time, and he didn’t notice Miss Wymore standing in the front of the class completely silent staring at him. After his old friend lowered his voice and warned him, Finn turned around and met the icy gaze of his teacher.

“Mr. Drake, would you care to enlighten the class with your incoherent babble or should I find some book to give me the answers to all of your questions so that you can more quickly return to your important conversations,” she said her lips tightening in her anger.

After this Finn didn’t dare to cross her in any way, but never the less she constantly berated him for seemingly no reason.

“Mr. Drake, please refrain from chewing your pencil, it is a disgusting and unsanitary habit that revolts those that surround you.”

He often wanted to reply with a sharp retort, just to even the scales, but every time he even began to speak she would scowl even worse. He decided the best policy would be to remain quiet and accept her wrath with no resistance.

Beyond this monster of a teacher, Finn’s classes went very smoothly. The material was challenging, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He had the heaviest schedule of the bunch, but didn’t seem to mind it. He did spend any of his free time studying. He found a nice spot under the oak trees at the college that he began to frequent early on. He would sit in a nook of one of the great oaks with his books spread all around him. There were other people around him, even in the trees. The branches bent low to the ground and were about double the size of his thigh. It was easy to step onto these branches and climb near to the trunk where one could be comfortable. The grass around him was shorn very close to the ground, though he never saw it cut. The groundskeeper knew the students enjoyed sitting on the lawns of the college and therefore made special efforts to keep it clean and suitable for sitting. It was a myth that the Head of the Grounds would dress as a student and lounge about on the lawns to hear comments on the shape of the grass.

It was here that Finn was sitting on a Thursday evening at about six. He was readying his things to return home for supper. The sun was setting on the horizon and it cast an orange glow across the lawn. He was picking up a rather hefty textbook as he noticed a shadow fall across the ground. He heard a poor imitation of the all too familiar voice of Miss Wymore.

“Mr. Drake, if you are going to pick up that book you better hurry up and do it. Why is it on the ground to begin with you filthy slob.”

He looked up expecting to see anything but what he saw. One of his friends, maybe Grace. Maybe one of the girls that studied in the tree above him. Maybe the mysterious groundskeeper or a rouge clown who was playing a little joke. But not this.

He raised his head to view a woman
silhouetted against the fading sunlight. She was dressed in a tight fitting shirt that perfectly accented every curve. He pants were skin tight and accomplished the same goal. Her dark brown hair fell to her shoulders. She was very darkly tanned, giving her skin a golden shine that seemed to fit her perfectly. She was smiling making her ever so more beautiful. Her eyes though, I doubt anyone has seen such eyes. Her eyes seemed to go on forever as a sea of infinite emeralds. She was perfect in every way. Finn was dumbstruck.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I know you,” he said putting an odd amount of emphasis on the “you”.

“No you don’t,” she said in her normal, musical voice, “my name is Cole Hartman.”

She put her hand out. Finn stared at if for a moment, perhaps he was trying to find a flaw. Then he took it quickly, regaining his suave, and kissed it slightly just behind the knuckles as he bowed low. Now, had anyone else attempted to do this, they would have been stoned with boulders. Even Finn felt rather awkward at the moment, thinking this couldn’t have been his best option. She didn’t seem to notice though.

“It is my great pleasure to meet you,” he
said.

“I don’t think that was necessary, but thank you. Anyway, I’m in your ethics class. I sit near the back, so you probably never even noticed me.”

“Oh, I most certainly have noticed you,” he lied, “no one can help but to notice someone as radiant as you.”

He thought he was trying to hard. If he kept this up, he was sure she would run away screaming. Why was he talking like this anyway?

“Well, I just wanted to meet you, because you are so sweet. Through all that junk Miss Wymore gives you, you keep your head up. I guess I kinda look up to you. So….bye.”

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek and slipped something into his hand. She smiled as she stepped back and then she simply walked away. He watched her go, and for a moment he felt as if he couldn’t breathe. His chest hurt as he struggled for air. He wonder how someone could have that much of an affect on him. He looked down at the small card in his hand. A phone number was written with a little heart under it. He could breathe again.

That night after supper, Finn went to his room announcing that the first line would be tied up for a while. Now, the first thing one notices as he or she walks into Phineaus’s room is the large wall filled with awards. Plaques, ribbons, trophies and certificates cascade on a wall of honors. Academic, athletic, community service, leadership, most improved, best all around, most likely to succeed, and other more specific titles. Even the owner of these items had a habit of looking at them. He tried not to judge it the sin of pride, but nevertheless his eyes would wander to the colorful myriad of items more than once in a while. Like the others he had a desk, a bed, and a television set. The bed was rather large and covered with homemade quilts from different assortments of fabrics. Other than Con and Grace he was the only one to have these quilts and he was envied greatly for it. His desk was always squared away. Everything in its place and a place for everything. If he needed to work on something he would withdraw the materials for it at that time, and put them away when he finished. One of the small eccentricies that everyone has. The television put him to sleep every night. He probably kept it on every second he was in his room. His computer was at this time still on the floor, he hadn’t procured a table for it yet. It was hooked up though and if he wanted to use it, it wasn’t that much of an inconvenience. He had been in this room for a few weeks now and it was beginning to feel like home.

As he came in on the day in question, he threw his bag down on the bed and laid the card on the phone. After changing his clothes he sat at his desk and began to reach for the phone. He withdrew his hand as if it were burning hot. Perhaps if he approached it more carefully. Yes, this time he picked it up. Unfortunately his hands turned to putty and he couldn’t press the appropriate numbers. He slammed the phone down and tried to get a grip on himself. He could do this, only a girl. Only the most beautiful girl he had ever seen before in his life. The girl who had literally taken his breath away at first sight. No, just don’t think about it.

He reached for the phone and nimbly dialed the numbers trying to quell the uneasy feeling in his stomach.

“Hello?”

Her voice, like angels singing.

“Hello?”

Say something you idiot.

“Hey, Cole, this is Finn, the guy from the trees.”

Should have just said, “Me Tarzan you Jane,” and have been done with it. Stop listening to me you dolt.

“Hi, I’m so glad you called.”

“Well, I guess I should get right to the point, shouldn’t I?”

“Maybe you should,” she said in a sultry voice.

“I know a little diner just outside of town that serves wonderful seafood. I thought maybe you and I could go, together.”

“That would be divine.”

“This Friday then, around eight?”

“Perfect.”

“Um….I guess I’ll see you then.”

“Yes.”

“Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

He hung up the phone. He took a breath for the first time in two minutes.

The following Friday came with much anticipation on the part of Finn. In class the day before he hadn’t even noticed Miss Wymore banging a ruler on his desk. He just stared at the girl for the entire class. She had moved to a lower row and Miss Wymore quickly noticed this.

“Miss Hartman, are you quite comfortable now?” she said. “Would you like me to bring you some milk and cookies? I hope you find that seat enjoyable because I do not want to search for you somewhere else.”

Cole just sat there with her eyes downcast, and for the first time Finn felt a surge of hate towards this old bat.

The following day went by even more slowly than any before. It is a known fact that man invents time, and therefore man can manipulate it. Hence, it must only exist in man’s frame of mind, and as we all know our minds are working against us. For this reason the world turned a bit slower that day, even if everyone else didn’t notice.

He arrived home around 5:30 and immediately went to the shower. He cleaned himself up right sharply, even shaving twice, thinking that it never really works the first time. He brushed his teeth about four times that afternoon. Apparently he felt the air outside the bathroom was unclean and would return periodically to give his mouth another good cleaning. He spent an enormous amount of time ironing his clothes seeking out a stray wrinkle that could destroy him. But he only began to iron after he had chosen his wardrobe. He tried on seven different outfits, each time walking across the hall to get Belle’s reaction. He finally decided on his first choice, which gave Belle a fit of the giggles. Finn didn’t know it, but she later went downstairs and explained her friends situation. The rest of the bunch would tell him he had something in his teeth or a spot on the seat of his pants.

After hours of preparation, he left the house at 7:45, looking exceptionally well. He got into his car and drove the small way to Cole’s residence. He pulled up to the small boarding house where Cole sat in a rocking chair on the porch. She had been conversing with an old woman who was obviously the landlord. Finn was suddenly struck dumb on how to get her attention. Should he stop and get out or just blow the horn? Fortunately he wasn’t required to make the decision as Cole noticed him. She moved rather quickly to the car as she waved goodbye to the landlord. As she lightly ran, she held her skirt. She was dressed in her usual colorful way. She wore a shirt that had cat’s eyes on the front of it, just above her waist. Her pants were some type of fake leather that fit her tightly. They were dark blue to match the background of her shirt. Once again Finn’s heart skipped a beat.

They drove to the small diner and had a wonderful meal. Finn wanted the lobster, but knew he was sloppy in eating it so he decided on a breast fillet. He wasn’t interested in eating though. He didn’t believe his stomach could hold it for one thing, but they had begun to talk. When they first began their conversation ranged the usual things you tell someone in this situation. They avoided questions about themselves and deferred to funny stories about friends and family. It was really just one level beyond flirting and they both enjoyed their talk very much.

“One time,” Finn began, “I was in my car going through town with the windows down. Well this bug just flew into the car and landed on the back windshield. Now, I am not usually afraid of bugs, but it was a big bug and I was driving in heavy traffic. Then this gorgeous girl pulls up beside me at a red light and kind gives me a look. I give her a look back and she follows me to the next stop. Well about the time I was about to say something the bug flies right into my face. I freak out and start screaming and throwing my arms around, scratching my eyes. Finally the thing flies away and I see the girl give me this look of absolute horror and peel out in the opposite direction.”

Cole laughed for a few minutes at the Finn’s realistic impression of the bug attack. The conversation went on like this for the better part of two hours. Finally, they gathered their things and got back on the road. When they came to their turn, she looked at him saying, “Go straight.”

He did, not for a moment thinking it was a bad idea. She further directed him to the top of a hill that looked out over the city. He parked the car and looked over at his date. She sat there in silent beauty, looking out at the series of lights below them.

“Why did we come up here,” he said. He certainly had an idea, but he quickly put it out of his mind.

“To talk,” she said flatly.

The pair remained still for a few moments more, wondering what they could possibly talk about.

“I want you to know who I am.”

Finn said the words without thinking and for a second decided to drive off the hill. His mind controlled itself as she answered.

“And I want you to know who I am.”

They stared at each other for a moment longer, lost, each trying to decipher what the other meant. Then, they threw it all away. Their self-consciousness, their inhibitions, their fake smiles, the meaningless banter----all of it just went away. Only they were left. Phineaus and Cole, two hearts, two minds, and one soul. They both started talking, spilling out a chronology of every feeling they had had in their lives. The time he got picked on in grade school, the time she got dumped by the football player, the time he was turned down for the senior prom, her first kiss, his first homerun, when she won most beautiful, when he scored the winning point in a basketball game---a myriad of memories and emotions all piled together. She was crying and he was fighting off tears. Then he felt it. It began somewhere behind the stomach and it rose through his chest. It filled his mind like a fog, and that part of everyone where the conscience resides felt like all the sorrow of the world was defeated.

“I love you.”

He said it, and he meant it. Those three words can be said in a thousand different ways having a million different meanings, but the way he said it then, is only used once in a lifetime.

“And I love you.”

She said it in the same tone, but that didn’t convince him. He knew that Cole wasn’t just stuck in the moment by her eyes. He looked deep into her eyes and saw something. No one knows what he saw or what billions of people have seen in the eyes of their love. Yet, deep down everyone knows what it is.

They embraced; she sobbed against his shoulder. For one brief instance he was in perfect bliss, and nothing would taint it. The world would soon come crashing back, but it didn’t matter. He felt it hovering around them, but he wasn’t worried. Now he had someone to fight with him, and together nothing existed that they could not conquer, for love is the most powerful force.

In the following months they spent more and more time with each other. It was obvious to those around them that they were indeed in love, but it was wondered whether or not this was perfectly healthy. Con especially. He didn’t seem to enjoy it when he heard where Finn was or what Finn was doing. He would grunt and move on to something else, which was a rather odd reply from him. Everyone else seemed to really enjoy the couple. The girls treated Cole like a sister, Kat being near to her best friend. Kat had always wanted to be a doctor, like her father, but she didn’t go through with it. For this reason the two were linked. Cole was also a wonderful cook, and shared recipes and the like with Kat. Terry wouldn’t let go of how beautiful she was, and constantly made sarcastic comments about why she was dating Finn. Cole began going out with the bunch often. Of course the bunch had changed due to the activities everyone was involved in. For Finn and Cole, life was perfect.

Unfortunately the world was not perfect, and in all the time they spent together, Finn lost track of his studies. He spent every second possible with Cole and every second he couldn’t be with her he was thinking about her. She, on the other hand, knew better and studied diligently every night.

“Shouldn’t you go study?” Con would say as Finn lounged around in a dream world. He would shake his head yes, but continue to sit there. Con wasn’t the only one at this though. Belle would often remind him that he was studying to be a doctor. He would shrug it off, but then came the midterm grades. He had a five B’s, one A, one C, and one D-, in his ethics class naturally. Still he didn’t seem to mind.
The holidays came and went. The couple went to family Christmas parties and introduced their partner accordingly. Her parents were both doctors, and they were thrilled to hear he was to be a surgeon. His parents accepted her warmly; his grandmother gave her a beautiful homemade dress, saying “you wear that for something special, like when you announce something for instance.” Their families had been exposed to hour-long phone calls that deeply described their relationship from day one, and were surprised that she wasn’t wearing a ring. Her father had taken Finn aside and given him his blessing.
“Now, son, I want you to know that I think highly of you and I am honored that you are with my daughter,” he said.

Of course he didn’t use the word “blessing” or “marriage” but it was obvious that he was giving consent. They didn’t want to pressure them. Both sides had almost identical reasons for not pushing the issue. They were just starting college, they had plenty of time, and they couldn’t support one another anyway, yes, its best to wait. The seeds of anticipation had been planted though, and both families revered the couple.

“New Year’s comes but twice a year!”

Some drunk was on the lawn outside of Finn’s window. Cole was sitting on his bed gazing at the wall of awards. They had come up from the party below because of its noise. He thought that there wasn’t anybody else upstairs. He sat down next to her and watched the television. It looked cold in New York. Snow and ice everywhere. It is one of the simple pleasures to know that though somewhere in the world it is freezing, he was there inside, warm.

Three….two….one.

They heard below them the loud scream.
Finn looked at her and said, “Happy New Year.”
She leaned over and kissed him, as was the custom. She began to lean back, but held the kiss a little longer. He wrapped his arms around her and laid her back on the bed. He hovered over her for a minute gazing down into her eyes. No resistance, no opposition. He ran his hands down her arms and around her thighs. Still they didn’t break their stare. Her hands were pulling his shirt up in the back. His right hand followed the curve of her leg and the left returned to her neck, holding her head gently. Her hands strayed to his belt.

BAM!

Finn stood immediately looking down in horror and then at the door. The noise came from the hall. He fixed his clothes as he opened the door. A glass and its contents had been spilled, other than that everything was normal. He began to investigate, but she called him back.

“Honey, don’t worry about it, just come back in and sit,” she said patting the bed.

He closed the door and gave her a suspicious look, “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for, you make it sound like we did something bad.”

“No, I did something bad.”

“You didn’t we were just caught in a moment.”
He sat down on the edge of the bed, uncommonly far away. They had agreed not to do anything. They decided that they would go against the masses and stay away from each other. Basically, Finn had only scared himself. He realized at that moment that he couldn’t control himself. His mind was treacherous, screaming questions that drove him made. He would stare at couples when they were together, knowing that they shared something greater than time. What was she like? The question occupied more of his mind than he would like. He felt fear now, fear that passion was overcoming love.

She crawled into his arms and they laid there in serenity for a few brief moments. He was content; he could survive. He did wonder what she thought, but didn’t really want to know the answer. After the din below had died to a low roar, he took her by the hand and led her downstairs to the party.

A few weeks later, the pair had settled back into an uneventful rut. They continued to spend everyday with one another, and didn’t tire of it one bit. They had fights along the way. Not anything important, just over where they would go, what they would do, or what they would eat. They continued to suffer through their ethics class, but Finn’s grades continued to drop. One day, after a large exam that came just before their spring break, the problem of Miss Wymore came to a resolution.

“Mr. Drake, would you please step outside the hall.”

He looked at her, but followed her orders. He gave a quizzical look to Cole and walked out of the door. Miss Wymore was soon to join him. She closed the door behind them and checked to see if anyone else was in the hall. Finding it empty, she handed Finn his exam paper. It was already graded and had a large letter “F” at the top.

“Mr. Drake if you fail the another exam you will fail the class,” she explained.

“Miss Wymore, I appreciate your concern, but---”

“I don’t think you do, Mr. Drake. You see, I know that you and Miss Hartman are quite the item. I also realize she is why you are on the verge of failure.”

“I don’t think it is your place to judge that.”

“There is something that I must tell you before you understand. As cold as I may seem, I was once in love myself.”

She said it flatly. It did shock Finn somewhat, but he didn’t show it.

“It happened when I was in college. I fell in love with another student and we both consumed a great deal of each other’s time. I began to lose track of my studies and my grades began to drop. I soon realized that I could have him, or have a career. I took the logical decision and left him. I never told him, I simply avoided him until he stopped trying to contact me. I never regretted my decision. Had I chose differently I would be with him, but I would be poor and miserable. You make your choice, but don’t expect any sympathy for others.”

He looked at her, unable to believe what she was saying. She had no emotions, and she was happy about forsaking the one person who loved her, who must certainly have been a unique individual. She stared at him, unwavering, as if she was trying to read his mind.

“Go home, you are excused from class. I will assume that Miss Hartman will take care of your things. Think about this and decide how you want your life to turn out.”

She turned and quickly reentered the classroom. He stood in the hall for a moment, considering charging back in and shouting at the old woman. He looked down the hall and saw the flash of a coat as it turned a corner. He walked to where the person was and looked at the door.

VISITING PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY
PROFESSOR ROBERT P. GREYMIRE

When he arrived at home, he went immediately to the small office. He opened the door without knocking only to find the seat empty. He noticed a small leather bound book on the desk, but didn’t bother to examine it further. He went to the dining hall where he found Terry and Con sitting at the table. Terry was explaining some trick in carving. Con saw Finn and immediately asked Terry to excuse them. Terry left and Finn took his place before his name at the table.

“Why were you standing there?” Finn asked.
Con looked at his friend for a moment, almost the same perceptive gaze that Miss Wymore had given him. “I had just left class.”

“That is no excuse to spy on me.”

“It isn’t spying if you are standing in the middle of a public hallway. Besides she didn’t say anything important.”

“What do you mean?”

“Professor Greymire knows Miss Wymore from college. He told me her story from then, and the things she has told him recently.”

“It is no one’s business but mine. She shouldn’t have said anything and you shouldn’t be saying anything either.”

“You asked.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Listen, I doubt that the ice queen gave you a deep analysis of her past love. I’ll tell you why she said that if you like.”

Finn didn’t answer.

“It began her third year in medical school. Believe it or not, at that time Miss Wymore was strikingly beautiful, I’ve seen a picture. She met someone named Alfred Travis. They fell in love as soon as they met, much like Cole and yourself. They spent a great deal of time together and Alfred’s grades began to drop. She knew that if he didn’t pass he would return to work on his father’s farm. She also knew that she was the cause of this. A few weeks before Christmas of that year, she wrote him a letter saying that she would always love him, but she couldn’t allow herself to destroy his life. Miss Wymore lived in this very house. Alfred came looking for her and was turned away many times. Finally, she answered the door. She told him then that she had lied and never loved him. She went on about how she used him and how he was nothing more than a farmer. She said he was nothing in her eyes and no matter how hard he tried he could never be anything. Alfred left that day in absolute misery, but he took with him a resolve to be the best. She closed the door and fell back against it crying her eyes out. Alfred swore that he would return eventually and win her back. Alfred later transferred to a different college where he graduated second in the class and went on to be an excellent doctor. It isn’t known why he never returned. Miss Wymore never knew of his promise though.”
Con went silent and Finn looked at him with a pained expression.

“She lied to me then?”

“Yes, she has been conversing with the Professor recently explaining how she has found a couple with the same situation. She wanted advice as to how she should handle it. She received none at my request.”

Finn looked at him wondering why he had prevented her from receiving Greymire’s opinion. Yet now he did understand his teacher a great deal more. His hatred subsided and he felt immense grief for her.

“Then what is your advice to me now?” Finn asked.

After another piercing stare Con answered slowly, “Everyone know that you love her, but I think you aren’t satisfied that she knows it, therefore you spend all your time with her trying to prove it.”

It was obvious that Con was through talking so Finn left. He went upstairs to the small room and sat on his bed. He looked at the wall in front of him and tears filled his eyes. He attacked the wall in a rage, ripping and tearing down the awards. Soon there was a large hole in the center of the decorations. He fumbled around in the desk drawer for a tack. He took a picture of himself and Cole from the Christmas party and using the tack put in the middle of the wall’s bare spot. Then he stood back and looked on his work. It was as if he had torn down the wall of his prison and as he stood in the midst of rubble he felt daylight for the first time.
The door to his room slowly opened. Con stood there.

“Someone’s here to see you.”
He waited for a response but Finn continued to stare at the wall. Con didn’t seem to notice.

“I think you need to make your decision before you see her though.”

“I have,” Finn said with a solemn smile. “I don’t care what comes of it or how hard it gets, but I have made my decision. Tell her to go home. Tell her I’ll come and see her tonight, and that she should wear that dress. She’ll know what I mean.”

Con left and Finn went to the window to watch. A long amount of time passed from when he sent Con down to when Con escorted Cole to her car. He seemed to be consoling her somewhat. Finn was concerned, but quickly forgot about it. He walked quickly down to Grace’s room, but thinking better of it turned to Kat’s. She was sitting quietly flipping through a course-offering book.
“I need your help,” he said bursting into the room.

“Whatever is the matter?” she asked warily.

“Don’t argue with me just get dressed and come shopping with me.”

This motivated her much better, and she began to change clothes as Finn dashed off. He went back to his room and rummaged around in the closet. He pulled out an elegant suit and a pair of matching shoes. He laid them out on the bed and then sat down at his desk for a moment biting his nails. He was trying to figure out what he should do next and it quickly came to him. He went downstairs and into the office where Con was sitting. The leather bound book still laid in front of him. He was sitting as if he knew Finn was coming, but he didn’t say anything or make any movement. Finn went to the wall of books and began to scan the spines for a specific one. Finding the volume he desired he pulled it out and quickly began flipping through the pages. He looked around and grabbed a pen and a small pad. He scribbled down a line from the book. He put the book back hurriedly and left without looking at Con. In fact when asked later, he never knew Con was there. He met Kat at the foot of the stairs and instructed her to follow him. They got into his car and drove to a street of shops on the far side of town. They remained silent the whole trip. Finn parked in front of an old jeweler. He quickly went inside with Kat following as fast as she could.

An old man sat on the stool behind the counter. The shop was filled with glass cases. Inside these cases was a large assortment of jewels in different sets and styles. Finn went directly to the counter.

“I need to see your finest rings.”

The old man smiled as Kat caught up and stood next to her friend. She gave him a look of curiosity, but it was soon replaced by complete amazement. Before her lay a small case in which four rings sat on a small pillow. They were the most beautiful things she had ever seen. They both gazed in astonishment for a few minutes.

“Well, which one would she like?” Finn asked turning to Kat.

“You’re buying her one of these!” she exclaimed.

“Yes, you’ll hear all about it soon. Now just tell me what she would like the best.”

She looked down at the rings and picked up each in turn. Finally, after a long debate, she picked the third ring on the pillow. It was a ruby set in a ring of gold with several decorative markings on the sides. She examined it in the light and then handed it to Finn. He looked down at the small thing in his hand and was suddenly very worried.

“What if it isn’t her size or what if she hates it or what if she hates me or…”

“You needn’t worry about those first two questions,” said the old man, “you can bring it back and I will resize it for free and I assure you that no one could not like that ring.”

Finn sighed and handed it to the old man. He took it and examined it closely.

“This ring was worn by a Persian princess on her wedding day. The story goes that she was very beautiful and it was a present from her father. Unfortunately it was stolen from her jewelry box by a servant and sold to a traveling merchant. This merchant in turn took it back to Europe where it remained in a king’s hoard for some many years. He gave it away with his daughter to a duke in England. It remained in that family until the wars. They lost everything and they were forced to sell it. That is how it came to America. The man that bought it gave it to his wife. He then went off to war where he was killed by a German tank. The young woman was so distraught over his death that she rid herself of everything that belonged to him. She sold this ring to me. I have had it ever since.”

Finn remembered the story well and would later tell it to Cole, but he also realized that it must cost a fortune.

“Now don’t you worry about it,” the old man said reading his expression, “the woman who sold it to me didn’t know its value. In turn I’ll let you have it for…”

The old man slid a small piece of paper across the counter. Finn picked it up and looked at it for a few moments before making up his mind. He took out a checkbook and paid for the ring. The old man went into the back of the store and came out with a small wooden box. He carefully placed the ring on the pillow inside. He gave it to Finn.

“She will love it, not because it is a beautiful ring, but because she loves you.”

Finn smiled and then followed Kat out the door.

He went to Cole’s home at seven exactly. She was waiting inside and quickly answered the door. She was wearing the dress and Finn thought to himself that she had never looked more wonderful. He took her hand and led her silently to his car. She was still confused as to what was happening, but knew better than to interrupt her boyfriend. They drove to the college and went to the spot where they first met. Being in the early months of spring, purple twilight illuminated the area. Under the trees there was a ring of candles burning ever so brightly in the mild darkness. He carefully walked her to the center and then knelt down in front of her.

“Oh, Finn, oh my…” she muttered with tears welling up in her eyes.

“My love, my life, Nicole Hartman. It has been my greatest pleasure to be with you for these past few months. ‘What lies before us and what lies behind us is tiny compared to what lies within us.’ I don’t believe that anything can break what we have together. I will love you until the ends of the earth and beyond. Cole, will you marry me?”

As he said it a great realization came over him. It was possible for her to say no. He had just taken the greatest risk of his life, gambling on the feelings of another.

“Yes.”

Complete elation. At that moment he could have been told that everyone he knew had been killed, but it wouldn’t have mattered. He raised himself from the ground and cheers erupted from the trees above them as he kissed her. Kat, Terry, Con, Karen and Grace were scattered throughout the trees looking down at them. The couple laughed as they began to climb down. Each of the friends in turn hugged Cole and Finn.

“We’re giving you an engagement party,” said Terry.

“This Friday night at the house,” seconded Con smiling.

The girls were all crying and the guys were shaking hands and slapping each other on the back. Kat took pictures in with multiple arrangements of the people. They talked amongst themselves. Finn noticed Con talking to Karen rather quietly which struck him as odd given the rowdiness of the bunch. Yet Con was smiling, something rather rare of late. They cleaned up the candles not wanting to be pursued by the mysterious groundskeeper. Soon the five left the couple to themselves and set out walking across the lawn in a festive mood. The pair stood in the darkness for a few moments holding each other tightly.

“My fiancé,” Cole said.

“My world,” replied Phineaus.

For the Love of All Things Beautiful

Kat’s room was in a word, girly. It was decorated in pink and red, much like a world of valentines. Unlike all the others her bed, with a red bedspread and pink sheets, was against the far wall so she could look out of the window. Her desk was filled not with papers and books, but with pictures. She enjoyed photography. The computer was set up much like Karen’s on a side table. Oddly she didn’t have a television in her room. This baffled everyone, but didn’t bother her in the least. In its place shelves had been constructed and on them resided mementos and other items of sentiment. Teddy bears, porcelain dolls, small crystal figurines, small versions of artwork, a miniature wooden unicorn, and other odds and ends.

She was very happy in this room and generally happy altogether. Her only bother was that like Karen and Con she didn’t have a specific major. Her problem came not from liking anything, but from liking too many things. She liked medicine, animals, plants, baking, chemistry, photography, and several other fields which she could feasibly formulate a career in, but she didn’t know which to pick. She consider being a doctor, a lawyer, a veterinarian, a medical researcher, a botanist, a landscaper, a gardener, a home designer, a journalist, and fifty other occupations. But none would suffice, so she waited for fate to pick for her.

It began about two months after they moved into the house. She was leisurely walking across the college’s south lawn after her music appreciation class. The area was fairly deserted with only a handful of students lounging about on blankets. She walked on into the Forest, a small grove of trees that were planted in memory of students lost in WWII. The Forest was usually avoided by students because it wasn’t very pretty and quite out of the way. For the most part the students stayed on the lawns or in the gardens. But on this day Kat mindlessly wandered into the Forest.

She soon ran into an old man tending to the mulch around the trees. He didn’t notice her until she was right upon him. He was really shaken by the start she gave him as she tapped him on the shoulder. It took him a minute to get hold on himself.

“I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” she said in her innocent childlike voice.

“Well ya did! An’ I don’ much ‘preciate it,” he replied sharply, “Ya must be looking for the Head of Grounds. Well he’s over thare.”

He gestured to his right, and Kat began to object, but not wanting to irritate the man further she went the direction of his gesture. She walked about fifteen steps before she saw the man standing on the outside edge of the Forest. He had binoculars in his hands and was shaking his head. She slowly walked up behind him, trying not to disturb him.

“What do you need of me?” he asked without turning around. She wondered how he had known she was there.

“Nothing sir, but that man back there told me to go this way,” she said meekly.

“Morty has always been a bit nervous, but he has a wonderful gift with trees,” said the man. He was dressed in a blue dress shirt and khaki pants. He wore a tie and a small jacket to fight off the oncoming cold. His skin was sun worn, but other than that he looked rather young. She estimated fifty-five for his actual age because of the graying hair and the wrinkles forming around his eyes. He looked incredibly well come to think of it. She didn’t know how old he was, but he certainly couldn’t be under fifty. She looked at his hands. They were rough and worn by his trade. His eyes stood out in deviance of time. They remained bright and filled with life.

“Are you the Head of Grounds that everyone is always talking about?”

“Why yes, Master Gardener and Landscaper Thelonius G. Walt, at your service,” he said with a wave and a bow.

Kat thought a minute about this man who was rumored to cut the lawns with a pair of scissors at two A.M. She had several questions but was afraid to ask them.

“I suppose you are wondering about all those stories the students tell. Well, they aren’t true if that is what you are thinking. I don’t cut the lawns myself; my workers do that for me. They are ordered to keep out of sight and they do sometimes cut at night. The gardens are primarily taken care of by myself and several others like Morty. This forest is his primary area though. It is common to see my workers, but the students enjoy their myths, and they do know I am watching.”

This startled Kat and she wanted to leave.

“Tell me about yourself though, I don’t run into many students,” he said.

“Well,” she began feeling as if it was an interview, “I am a Liberal Arts student. I have good grades for the most part. I live in the old Burgiss house just over there.”

“Oh how does it look?” he said suddenly. “I did some work on it when it was renovated.”

“You made those flower beds?” she asked shocked. If she admired one thing about the house more that anything else it was the beautiful flowers she had seen before they went out of season.

“Yes, do you like them? Of course I wasn’t very experienced when I did that work. That was a while back. Perhaps I could come by one day and take a look at them, maybe fix them up a bit?”

“Anything you like, Mr. Walt.”

“You may call me, Theo, but now I must ask you to be about your way Miss Neville. I have some business to attend to, perhaps I will drop by this Saturday.” He bowed low and then turned and disappeared into the Forest. Kat began walking towards her home, and soon became lost in her thoughts. She didn’t remember that she never told Thelonius Walt her name.

That Saturday came as all Saturdays came. Kat had forgotten that the gardener was coming and when he arrived she was sitting on her bed reading a recipe book. She saw him standing at the foot of the walkway that led to the house. She immediately remembered and rushed down to meet him. When she opened the door he was standing over the flowerbeds deep in thought.

“Mr. Walt?” she said coming up to him.

“Call me Theo, it is good to see you again Katherine,” he said turning to her.

“So what do you think,” she asked pointing at the bare flowerbeds.

“They have been adequately taken care of, but with a little more attention they could be much more beautiful when they bloom again.”

He looked at her for a moment and then back at the house. She followed his eyes too the grand construction before them. It seemed much livelier now than it had been a few months ago, perhaps it was happy that life had reentered it. Theo stood back and looked at the house’s surroundings and then at Kat.

“I think this house deserves something better than these meager flower beds around these two trees. With a little work you could make a small garden just over there.”

He was gesturing to the side of the house where there was an odd vacant spot.

“It is certainly a suitable place because that is where Mr. Burgiss himself grew his personal garden.”

“Mr. Wa--, I mean Theo, none of us have any luck with plants, so unless we hired someone we wouldn’t be able to keep it up,” said Kat with a tone of disappointment.

“I could teach you,” Theo said thoughtfully bringing a very eager expression to Kat’s face.

“I would like that very much.”

“So we will do it then, we could even begin now. You may want to go change your clothes, because you will most likely get dirt on them.”

She rushed into the house passing Con on the stairs. She quickly changed into some old jeans and a shirt and hurried back to the lawn. She found Theo on his knees with a small spade working in the flowerbed. She followed suit and was soon hearing an immense amount of knowledge about the composition of the soil and the different types of flowers that would grow well in it. The pair decided that it would be best to simply start from scratch, and therefore destroyed what was left of the previous year’s roots. This would simply be the first day of many that Kat would spend on the lawn tilling the soil and planting different types of seed and flowers. She learned something new from Theo at each session and was quickly becoming quite the green thumb, so it continued through the winter and on into spring.

This was certainly not the only activity in which Kat participated though.

About two weeks after she met Theo, she first encountered Mrs. Robin. Kat was on her way to her Latin class when she ran into the middle-aged lady in the foyer of the Language and Arts building.

“Miss Neville?” called the simply woman from the opposite side of the room. As Kat watched her cross she noticed how she wore a simple dress that looked as if it had come out of the fifties. Her hair was curled and fell around her shoulders. She wore bright red lipstick and a large golden ring on her finger was her only jewelry. The woman obviously had never stood out. She was just part of the usual background of people that pass by without being noticed. She had a dignified air about her, but it seemed at first that she strained to keep it. The ring was her wedding ring and she wore it with great pride. She would later explain that she wouldn’t were any other jewelry because she felt that it would distract from the marvelous ring on her finger.

“Aren’t you Miss Katherine Neville?” she asked once again.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Of course you are, and I am Mrs. Iris Robin,” she said proudly. “I was wondering if I could have a word with you about singing.”

This caught Kat off guard, and confused her for a moment. She hadn’t sung publicly or even privately since she left high school. She never thought she sounded any good, but always enjoyed music very much.

“Mrs. Robin I haven’t sang in a very long time, why are you asking.”

“That’s just it. I have been looking for a pupil. You see, I am a voice instructor and unfortunately I am without a student,” she replied with great enthusiasm.

“How did you come to pick me. Surely there are some majoring in voice that would appreciate your help.”

“Yes, most probably, but you were so highly recommended by Mr. Parstel.”

She couldn’t think of a reason Mr. Parstel, her music appreciation teacher, would recommend her as a voice student. She could tell though that Mrs. Robin was telling the truth and obviously thought that he was learned enough to recommend her.

“I am sorry, Mrs. Robin, but I am afraid
you have the wrong person,” Kat said apologetically.

“Mr. Parstel told me you would say that and not to listen. Now I want you to come tomorrow, I will be in the music hall, room 714, at 10:15. I am certain you don’t have a class then, but of course you have one now and if you don’t hurry you’ll be late. Goodbye.”

Mrs. Robin scuttled off in a cheerful manner. Kat was still perplexed over the situation, but she was expected the following day, and didn’t want to disappoint the nice woman.

The following day, Tuesday, Kat did go to room 714, but she didn’t have singing in mind. She had came to set Mrs. Robin straight, but as soon as she entered she saw that it would be much more difficult than she thought. Mrs. Robin was sitting at the piano in the large room playing an exercise lightly. Upon seeing her prodigy she beckoned her over with a smile and frantic wave.

“Now don’t say anything yet,” she said before Kat could even open her mouth, “just sing this scale.”

Kat didn’t sing as the first few notes were played on the large piano in front of her, but she then decided that the best way to settle this problem would be to demonstrate her inadequate singing ability. She continued up the scale and back down to the satisfaction of Mrs. Robin. As they finished she motioned for Kat to hold out the last note, and then listened contentedly for a moment before cutting her off.

“Now I told you Mrs. Robin,” Kat began in a saddened voice.

“You told me what? That you couldn’t sing? Nonsense you have an incredibly beautiful voice. Now I would like to hear you sing a song, here, you probably know some of these hymns. Pick one.”

Kat did as she was told and she was soon singing several of her favorite hymns as Mrs. Robin played the accompaniment. After about an hour of this both of them were in a good mood and they took a break to talk for a moment.

“Katherine, you have a wonderful sound in you and it should be shared with the world. I am offering you my help now. If you want it we shall continue these meetings that will mold you into a seasoned vocalist. Unless of course you don’t want that.”

Kat thought for a moment, and then looked
up at the woman in front of her. She seemed so simple in her dress and lipstick, and she was so happy to be working with Kat.

“I would like it very much, though I don’t think it will do us much good,” she said finally.

Mrs. Robin began chirping with glee and moved back to the piano. She handed Kat some sheet music to “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” Kat smiled as she looked down at it.

“This is my favorite song.”

“Yes,” said her teacher, “and now I would like you to sing it.”

Mrs. Robin began playing and soon Kat was singing. She didn’t hear anything but the sound of her voice. It seemed to fill the room and wrap itself around her. She forgot about Mrs. Robin, who eventually stopped playing to simply listen, and sang from the bottom of her heart. She finished with her voice trailing off into silence. She knew then that she would love these lessons with her new teacher, and as she left that day she had already began looking forward to the next week.

Still these two hobbies did not keep Kat fully occupied.

The same week that she first encountered Mrs. Robin she went to Solomon Street. She was simply window-shopping when she came to Miss Henderly’s Bakery. Miss Henderly herself was standing outside sweeping her small portion of sidewalk. She was the typical grandmother type of person, which was materialized in that she owned a small bakery. She had been there all her life. She learned to cook from her mother, and her grandmother before that. The bakery had been there since the turn of the century, but still stood defiant of its age, much like Miss Henderly. It was her life, and she accepted it warmly. She loved nothing more than making cakes and pastries. She would say that she could remember every cake she had ever made for every wedding couple. This was tested several times and she proved she could do it, although most had only been made a few years earlier.

“Hello, dear, could I interest you in anything?” said the old lady kindly.

“Why yes you could, I suppose,” she said.

“Well come in then, dear,” said Miss Henderly.

The pair walked inside the small shop, several cakes and other items filled refrigeration units. The old woman walked behind the counter and put away the broom. She turned to Kat who was gazing at a rather large wedding cake that was in a case off to the side.

“Oh, yes, one of the biggest I’ve ever made. Lovely couple too,” she said following her customer’s gaze.

“It has always been fascinating to me how these are made,” said Kat more to her self than otherwise.

“You wouldn’t be Miss Neville would you?”

Kat was once again astounded that someone knew her name that shouldn’t. “Yes, I am Kat Neville, but how do you know me.”

“Oh that young man came and spoke to me about you. Such a nice young gentleman.”

“What did he say?”

“Well he asked if I could teach a friend of his to bake things. Things like these cakes. You were that friend, said you had always been interested in baking. Oh, and he said that you were already quite the cook. I told him that I would love to.”

She knew who it was that arranged it. She didn’t understand why, but she was intrigued at the idea nonetheless.

“You mean you would be willing to show me how to make these things?” she asked delighted.

“Why of course, it would do me some good to have a bright young thing around to keep me in line anyway,” said the old woman chuckling slightly.

“I could come on Wednesday around two?”

“Yes that would be fine deary.”

The two spent the rest of the time telling about each other over coffee Miss Henderly made. They quickly became friends and the following Wednesday Kat began learning the fine art of baking. She would spend several hours each week in the kitchen learning quickly and completely delighted that she had such a wonderful hobby. She began cooking at home almost every night to the certain delight of all her friends. Her cakes became favorites quickly and were constantly improving in quality. She forgot to ask Con why he had made arrangement for her to meet Miss Henderly, she just assumed that he wanted someone to know how to properly cook.

Kat was completely pleased. She no longer thought about being a Liberal Arts major, spending all of her free time on each of her hobbies. Soon the holidays came and she had a chance to show off her newfound cooking skills in each of the small feasts. To everyone’s delight she put to a test all of her skills as a chef. She was even asked to assist her mother in preparing her families Christmas dinner, which was quite an honor. The bigger event of the holidays came the Sunday before she departed from the house.

As usual the group had traveled to the small church for the morning services. To their surprise about halfway through the services the reverend called out to Kat to come up to the pulpit. She winked at her friends, all of whom were shocked except for Con, and slowly walked up to the microphone at the front of the church. She had been practicing every week with Mrs. Robin, who had come to the church that Sunday and was sitting in the back. She had learned a very beautiful hymn from back to front in that time along with other more secular music. This was her first real performance. As she stood there in front of the small congregation, she looked out at them. Most of the people before her had reassuring smiles on their faces. Her friends were still in shock except for Cole who had come with Finn. Kat had confided this small secret to Cole, just because she couldn’t not tell anyone. She began singing solemnly and then her voice picked up and filled the room like a thousand angels singing. The song followed the tragic life of a woman who lost her way but found faith in God. She had practiced it a thousand times and had perfected the dynamics and pronunciations. As she finished she heard the quiet sobs of some of the old women, so touched that they had began to cry. Even the reverend had a lump in his throat as he retook his place in the pulpit thanking Kat for the song. Kat returned to her seat. As she stepped over the others to return to her place they continued to stare in disbelief. She noticed that Rafe had a bit of a sneer on his face, but didn’t think much of it as Cole and Belle began congratulating her silently. After the service almost every person in congregation commented on how wonderful she sounded. Mrs. Robin stood off to the side not saying anything, but beaming proudly.

New Year’s came and with it came a large party at the house. Kat wasn’t feeling very social at the time, considering she hadn’t even known about the party. She and Terry were standing outside near her precious flowerbeds, talking casually.

“New Year’s comes but twice a year!” yelled some drunk.

Soon everyone was counting backwards; the pair joined in, but immediately realized their situation. In about five seconds everyone in that house would turn to someone and kiss him or her. They looked at each other and then desperately looked around seeing only the drunk leaning against the tree. They shrugged and as everyone screamed in the New Year they leaned together and kissed lightly. They remained close together as they broke the kiss, and had nothing happened, perhaps something would have happened. But at that moment the drunk fell down into the flowerbed spilling the contents of a bottle and doing a bit of wallowing himself. Kat immediately stood and started yelling about how he was destroying her flowers. She had Terry remove the man from the premises and then stormed into the house and marched up the stairs. She found something spilled on the carpet and letting her anger subside, she decided to clean it up.
Three months later, her flowers, despite the round they had with the drunk, were blooming. Her self-fashioned garden was coming along very nicely. She couldn’t have been more pleased with herself. She had taken to singing lightly as she worked in the small garden and flowerbeds. Theo’s visits had become less frequent and had almost stopped altogether. She didn’t expect him to come all that much, but on the day he showed up she was pleased to see him.

“I see you are admiring the roses,” she said from behind him.

“Yes,” he said without turning around, “roses have always been my favorite.”
She thought she heard a small sadness in his voice, but as usual didn’t pay it any attention. “So what do you think of it overall.”
He looked around at the beautiful gardens, “They are most exquisite, you must have had a wonderful instructor.”

She laughed, but his face remained emotionless.

“I have taught you everything that I can. I won’t be stopping by anymore.”

“No, I couldn’t have learned everything that you could teach me,” she said desperation in her voice. The fact that she would lose this great mentor made her very uneasy.

“You have all you need to know to make your decision. You were a very good student Katherine, maybe we will meet again.”
He left quickly, not hesitating for a moment. Kat stood, surrounded by her rosebushes, speechless.

Later that week she was once again in Miss Henderly’s Bakery. She had just completed an even bigger wedding cake than the one she had seen the first day she was in the shop. Miss Henderly had been in a rather depressing mood all afternoon and as Kat stood back to admire her work she asked her friend for a professional opinion.

“Excellent work, my dear,” said the old woman sadly, “I couldn’t have done it better myself.”

Kat noticed the lady’s tone and went to sit beside her, “What’s the matter Miss Henderly?”

“Nothing dear, just that….. just that I think its time that you went on about your life and left this old woman to her pots and pans.”

“No, I wouldn’t do that I love working here.”

“Yes, but you love other things as well. Perhaps you have been too preoccupied with everything and have lost sight of your goal. You should remember it and achieve it before you return.” She said it firmly and it almost made Kat cry. She began to object but Miss Henderly left her and went into the back room. Kat gathered her things and left the shop. She met Terry outside, who was coming from the woodshop down the street, and he walked her home.

In the following weeks she began to miss her time in the bakery more and more. She couldn’t understand why both of her teachers had left her in one week. She did still have Mrs. Robin, who had picked up the slack by doubling their rehearsal time. Still, even Mrs. Robin had a sense of sadness about her lately. Spring break was coming fast. It was her final lesson with Mrs. Robin before the holiday and she wasn’t eager to begin because she didn’t want it to end.

As she walked in the Language and Arts Building she noticed Con walking out with an old white haired man in tow. She quickly walked down to room 714 and entered. She saw Mrs. Robin sitting quietly on the piano stool and she saw the small handkerchief in her hand. Mrs. Robin heard her enter and immediately came to greet her.

“So wonderful to see you, Kat,” she said as she brought her into the room. “Please sit.”

She stood in front of her trying to muster the words and fight back tears at the same time.

“Kat I have done something that I shouldn’t have. That isn’t what I need to tell you though. These past months working with you have been absolutely wonderful, and you must realize that you have learned a great deal from me.”

Kat knew what was coming and didn’t want to hear it.

“Mrs. Robin, I don’t need---” she said before her teacher cut her off.

“I have your best interest at heart, you understand, and for this reason I am willing to say that there is nothing more you can learn from me.”

The words hit her like bricks. This was the third time she had heard them, but she had hoped that it wouldn’t be the same with Mrs. Robin.

“Now, I have kept you on as a student for my own selfishness. I knew when we began that eventually it would end. Now it has. You may go.”

The woman was on the verge of tears and turned away from the girl. Kat moved to console her. She wanted to tell her that she wouldn’t listen, that she wanted to continue her lessons. Mrs. Robin waved her off. Kat finally accepted it and ran from the room crying.

She was walking quickly with her head down towards her home. Why had they all deserted her? All at the same time? She had so loved each of them, and now they were gone. She felt very empty and her mind was racing trying to find some reason for her mentors’ actions. It came to her as if she had been trying to find something that had been in front of her all along. She began to run. She reached her home very quickly and stormed into the small office. Con was sitting there the closed leather bound book in front of him.

“Why?” was all she said. She had envisioned a long dramatic speech in which she unveiled a horrible plot to ruin her, but all that came out was “why.”

“Because it was necessary,” said the formidable young man dressed in black. “You want a career, I gave you a taste of some. Imagine what life would have been like if you hadn’t had all of this to keep you occupied for the past year.”

She looked at him with hatred in her eyes, “Then why did you take it away.”

“Now comes the time in which you make a decision. You love gardening, baking, and singing. So why don’t you figure out the one you love the most? I engineered it from the beginning. I met Mrs. Robin, Mr. Walt, and Miss Henderly the first week here. Later I enlisted each of them to help me in guiding a young girl to a career. Each of them was eager to share their trade and quickly agreed. The deal was that they would have until a week ago to teach you and share their idea, and then they would all stop. Unfortunately Mrs. Robin is so attached to you that she went against my wishes and continued to give you lessons.”

A light dawned in Kat’s eyes, “You were there today. You went and told her to stop the lessons.”

“Yes.”

Kat felt very empty and she tried to fill it with anger. Fortunately anger is not something that naturally resides within this caring individual; sorrow felt more at home. Everything had been taken away, but now she realized why. They all cared about her enough to put through this even though it was obvious that they all were in great pain themselves, with the possible exception of Con. She staggered out of the room feeling as if she were dying. She laid down on the large couch and cried.

She remained in her room for the next two days reading. She was soul-searching. She tried desperately to pick between one of the wonderful pastimes. Finally she decided that sitting in her room wouldn’t help her. She went downstairs. In the kitchen the leftovers of a large cake she had made the week before were on the counter. The shades were pulled up so that her garden could easily be seen. Beside the cake was her sheet music of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” She knew who put them there. At that moment Karen walked into the kitchen. She walked over to the sink and filled a glass with water. She began to walk out, but stopped near the door and turned to her friend.

“You made grown men cry,” Karen said and the continued out the door.

Kat stared at where she had been standing and then looked at the music before her. She thought back to the church and realized something. She had learned to be a gardener. She had learned to be a baker. She had always been able to sing. Someone had already made her decision. Her voice was a gift and she was to share it. She picked up the music and walked into the den where Con and Karen were in light conversation, also on the couch were her three teachers. She smiled at them and held up the music.

“You’ve decided,” said Con.

Mrs. Robin went delirious. The other two graciously accepted defeat and in turn congratulated and encouraged their former student. They had a small party in celebration of Kat’s choice. She was finally content. She now had an end. She knew that from this day forth she had a direction. She was in heaven. The teachers on the other hand were in a less optimistic mood. Mr. Walt took it especially hard saying more than once, “what a great gardener she could have made.” Miss Henderly was crying and hugging everyone in the room.

“She was like the daughter I ever had,” she would moan into Mr. Walt’s shoulder.

The two teachers were led out by Karen and Con. Mr. Walt had decided to walk Miss Henderly home considering the state she was in. Mrs. Robin and her student sat together in the large den. They were student and teacher once again. Mrs. Robin had said several times that she hoped breaking the rules of the little agreement had nothing to do with the decision.

“I think that I have forgotten some of the scales and I am looking for a teacher,” said Kat.

“Well, I do give a small lesson in room 714 on Tuesdays,” replied the woman smiling.

Karen, Con, and Terry joined them. They group ended the night by listening to Kat sing.

At the end of that week, Kat was sitting in her room flipping through a course-offering book. She was looking at the different musical classes she could take when Finn burst through the door ordering her to get dressed and come with him. Before she knew it she was once again on Solomon Street. Finn pulled up in front of a jeweler and ran inside. She got out of his car and looked across the street to Miss Henderly’s Bakery. The lights were off and there was a sign on the door that said “Closed.” Kat smiled feeling that indeed it was closed to her. She couldn’t go back.

That night she was oddly enough in a tree over a circle of candles on the lawn of the college. Below her Finn had proposed to Cole. Soon they were all down on the ground celebrating. After a lot of pictures and a lot of congratulations it was time to leave. Kat paid special care not to drop any wax as she gathered up the candles. The group left the engaged couple and set out merrily across the lawn. Kat stopped for a moment and told the others to go on ahead. She looked out to the Forest and thought for a moment she saw someone’s silhouette. Whether or not it was actually a person she waved and blew a kiss in the direction of the trees.

She would make the bouquet from her own garden and bake the wedding cake herself, she thought. Not only for the sake of a beautiful and memorable wedding, but also as a salute to her former teachers.
Maybe she would even sing.