Twenty-one ~ Entertainment

My dear F-----,

       It has been far too long since I saw you, darling, it is pleasant to hear you are again in the area. I shall have to hear how things are in N-----, it has been some time since I was last there

       I do hope you will find the entertainment which we have requested for the party in honour of your return to be to your liking - I am certain you will, it is someone you have had your eye on for some time, I believe. But there! I shall ruin the surprise, which is half the pleasure of a thing.

       Novelty, darling, such a delightful thing. What is new may not long be good, but it is always initially interesting. The excitement of a new painting revealed, a song first performed, a fresh theory expounded... ah, pretty one, such moments make Time almost worthwhile, do they not? The delicate scent of a flower whose petals are for the first time parting...

       And the delicious sight of the starry-eyed naïvete of the artist fading, as the passion of their preposterous heart is reduced to dry critique, fodder for public consumption, accepted or dismissed with no more effort than a wave of the hand. The eager joy and pride which consumed them melts as a candle's wax, leaving only empty space and a misshapen form crumpled on the floor. Oftentimes, it is the process in which they themselves reach, exist within, and fall from acclaim which is more enticing than the art by which they do so.

       I had word from L----- about your departure from H----- some time ago. Whatever was that about, darling? He seemed quite perturbed about the circumstances under which you left, and I must say the rest of us were at quite a loss. I believe your actions since have appeased him, but that still does not explain why you said such things, or why you left his company so abruptly. It seems things had been quite well, L----- spoke of a seemingly delightful child who had recently fallen in among all of you there; it appears he was quite the thing, and all were much taken with him, yourself included. Whyever then did you leave so quickly, with only a cryptic message of departure? It looked almost as if you were reprimanding their behavior - but certainly that was not the case, for I have never known you to have such silly qualms before. Do you remember the first night you were with us in B-----? Ah, what a time we had! Mmm, do you remember his eyes as we told him what we wanted of him? Such an exquisite combination of apprehension and determination, disgust and desire, fear and eagerness, the golden candlelight fracturing as it hit his dark eyes...

       But it seems you have gotten over whatever it was, and I am quite glad of that, particularly in light of all that has gone on of late. This party shall almost be as much an affirmation for us as for you... but do not think we hold you in less esteem, that is not the case at all, my dear. Nor, of course, have we at all questioned our ways. It will simply be pleasant to have a party with all the delights inherent, without having to fret over troublesome persons.

       I am much looking forward to your company, darling. I hope you find your stay a pleasing one.

Twenty ~ Bearings

Dear M-----,

       Ah, weekend again, Heaven knows I needed a break. Classes are still settling in, but just having to get up in the morning and to class on time grew tiring after a long summer, so having a chance to sleep in and ease into the day was nice. I lingered a little over a late breakfast, flipping through the newspaper and chatting with Mrs. R-----, offering to make dinner tomorrow night. I'm not a tenth the cook she is, but I'm quite good at pancakes and the like at least, and I'd like to chip in a little, she's such a dear to have dinner for all of us every day.

       "All of us" consists of Mr. and Mrs. R-----, their son P-----, who's nine, maybe ten years old, myself, and two other students - a senior girl, I think an education major, and a sophomore guy, who's very quiet, keeps to himself a fair bit, I believe he's liberal arts so far, or so I gather from Mrs. R-----. I don't see much of the latter two, the girl keeps busy with classwork and student teaching, turning in to bed when I feel most awake; I see the boy at dinner, and occasionally out walking in the yard or the woods behind the old barn. Yet, every now and again I can catch his hazel-blue eyes with mine, and there is an instant connection - undefined, too tenuous for either of us to feel confident enough to start conversation, but there's something there all the same. Not even a romantic something, you can save your cautionary lectures for a few weeks yet, I've said no more than "hello" to the boy.

       In any case, I grabbed an old book to re-read (I'm beginning to wonder just how much what I read as a child influenced me - all these old-fashioned daydreams and contentments, I had a pretty steady diet of Alcott, Montgomery, and the like), and wandered around the property looking for a sunny spot to curl up in. I sat against the side of the barn for awhile, but the woods begged my attention far more than my book, so I decided instead to do some exploring.

       There are the beginnings of a path, but it is soon lost in the sparse underbrush and criss-crossed trails of deer and whatever else resides among the barely disturbed trees. Not far in, I saw the word "PRIVATE" freshly carved into the bark of a mid-sized maple tree, a bit below eye-level. On the other side of the tree were nailed a few boards - just enough to allow shorter arms than mine to reach the branches above and scramble up to the small platform nestled between the split of two main branches. P----- and I had a conversation about tree forts over lunch last weekend, and I'm pretty sure that was his. He had been adament about not giving away its location, but the letters and boards were barely darkened by weather, so it's too new to be anyone's but his. I won't tell him I've found it, of course - that ruins the entire point of a secret fort being secret. Unless you have decent defenses, of course - I remember having a fort amidst a large clump of overgrown burdock bushes, simply because I knew no-one else would come near, for fear of getting the tenacious barbs caught in clothing and hair. (But though i had a bit of a strategy for entering, I had the longest hair of any potential entrants, and the burdock stuck to me the same as anyone else, so I eventually relocated.)

       I wandered for awhile, following bits of trails, checking out small, fern-boarded clearings, scaring the living daylights out of a few squirrels (who later returned the gesture by munching on nuts overhead - and dropping the shells around and on me, making me jump half a mile), walking along fallen tree trunks, half-decayed and giving way at a mis-step. I saw a creek at a bit of a distance, but on approaching it, I hit a wide muddy area around it, full of marsh marigolds as tall as I. Will investigate further when I've got boots on.

       Off to one side, beyond the creek, I saw what looked like a small shack, a fort, something. Faded grey, the browning leaves of several autumns past lying prone on the roof and in small wind-blown piles along one wall. I could see about a side and a half of it, most of my view obscured by a few large bushes and the angle I was looking from. no sign of a door or window, at least from that distance, but it looked far too large and solid to be just a blind for hunting. (In any case, these woods are owned a good five, ten miles back by the R-----s, and Mr. R----- has signs up to deter hunters from his property - but not "trespassers", I noted, which is nice for a change, as that's typically what I end up being in my wanderings at home.) I looked about for any easy way to cross the creek, but no luck, as the wet area was still too wide and free of stones or fallen branches large enough to step across on. Another day.

       I got only slightly lost on the way back - luckily I spotted P-----'s fort off to the left, and regained my bearings from that. One of these days I'll get a compass, but it's more fun to rely entirely on my own memory and sense of place. More dangerous, yes, but more interesting. And stop your fretting, dear - the worse thing I'm likely to encounter in there are irate squirrels, a raccoon at most. Or a cranky ten-year old whose secret has been discovered.

       I re-entered the yard just as P----- and his father returned from running errands. He came sprinting over to me, eyes wide, breathlessly demanding to know if I'd been spying on his fort. I promised I hadn't, and he grinned brightly, proclaiming that I'd never find it, his planning was too well thought-out for such easy discovery.

       Dinner was warm and friendly, everyone crowded around the kitchen table, P----- bubbling over about the day's events, the rest of us interjecting, sharing stories of our own.

       It felt nearly like a family, something from a book.

       I mentioned my exploration - sans P-----'s fort, of course - and asked about the small building I'd seen. Blank looks from around the table - no-one had seen it before - only I caught a faint glimmer in D-----'s eye (the quiet guy, I realize I left out his name before). He looked quickly away, but I saw something - I think he's been there too. He left directly after dinner, mumbling something about studying, and I saw the large pile of dishes and offered to help, so I haven't had a chance to talk with him. but that finally gives me something to start a conversation with him, at least, which is a plus.

       Will write again soon - P----- has challenged me to a game of checkers, and you know I couldn't refuse.