Notes: docs, pub
Chapter 1: docs, pub
The Farce
by Joel Swagman
Whatever has happened, will happen again; whatever has been done, will be done again. There is nothing new on earth.
--Ecclesiastes 1:9
Hegel remarks somewhere that all great world-historic facts and personages appear, so to speak, twice. He forgot to add: the first time as tragedy, the second time as farce.
--Karl Marx, 1852
Chapter 1
I knocked on the door impatiently. I had been at this house so many times before that it was like a second home to me, and I had long ago lost any formalities of pretense of politeness.
When no one answered the door, I knocked again. I took a few steps back to get a wider view of the house, but I could see no one moving inside. I went up to one of the side windows and pressed my face against the glass. “Hello! Hello!”
Through the glass I could see a figure moving leisurely across the room. She must have known it was me, because she displayed none of the promptness that would have been shown to any other guest. I did not take offense to this. It was a sign that they considered me almost part of the family.
The door opened. Her face looked tired, with deep lines underneath her eyes, but she smiled warmly when she saw me. “Hello Jonathon.”
“Is David in?”
“I think he’s still up in his room. I didn’t hear him go out. Unless he went out while I was hanging up the wash.” She paused to think about what she had just said. “But if he had gone out, he’d probably be with you now, wouldn’t he? Why don’t you go upstairs and see what he’s doing?”
“Thanks,” I called out as I ran up the stairs. David’s mom said something in reply, but I was already up the stairs and couldn’t hear it.
I threw open the door and burst into the room. David was sitting on the floor, with his back leaning against the wall directly opposite the door. I could tell my sudden entrance had initially startled him, but he was not surprised to see me. “Oh, it’s only you,” he said.
“Where were you this morning?” I demanded.
David shrugged. “I told you yesterday I might not come.”
“Simon and I were waiting for you.”
“Well you shouldn’t have been. I said I probably wasn’t going to be there.” This was true. He had said that, and I remembered it, so for the moment there wasn’t anything more to say on the subject. I saw a small white ball on David’s desk, and I walked over and started bouncing it against the floor. “What did you and Simon end up doing anyway?” David asked.
“Nothing. There was nothing to do. We were bored. And besides, you know how Simon is…” I trailed off on this last point, but David nodded his head as if he understood.
I put the ball back on the desk, but as I turned to face David again, I noticed something I hadn’t seen the first time. There was a book across his lap. He had been sitting under the window so that he could read by the sunlight. “What the hell are you doing?”
The abrupt change of subject confused David. “What? Jon? I’m just sitting here. What are you talking about?”
“What’s that?” I pointed accusingly.
“This?” David held up the book as he pointed at it. He still seemed confused, but I nodded to confirm that the book was indeed the subject of my anger. “It’s a book Jon. What does it look like?”
“What the hell are you doing reading during summer break? We do enough of that during school.”
“This isn’t for school Jon. It’s for fun. Besides, what do you care?”
“You skipped out on Simon and me so that you could read a book?”
“Jon, I told you yesterday that I probably wasn’t going to come.”
“A book?”
“Come on Jon, I told you this isn’t for school. It’s something I was interested in.”
“A book?” I could feel my face growing red as I raised my voice. “And Simon and I were standing around doing nothing all morning so that you could read a book? During summer break?”
“I’m under no obligation to keep Simon and you entertained.”
“But it’s summer break. We’ll be stuck in school the whole rest of the year reading books. This is our time to go out and have adventures.”
David tossed the book aside with an air of resignation. “Alright Jon, fine. What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. Simon and I were trying to think of something to do all morning. There’s nothing to do in this town.”
David rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Well if there’s nothing to do anyway…”
“But it’s out there somewhere,” I said. “Besides, anything is better than sitting in here reading a book on a summer afternoon. Are you coming or what?” David slowly got to his feet, and I practically pushed him out the door.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Simon had gone back to his home by this time, and that was fine with me. I always felt like Simon was more a friend of David’s than he was of mine. It was fine if the three of us were hanging out together, but there was something about Simon that just rubbed me the wrong way when it was only the two of us.
Because it was a hot day, I wanted to go to the river and try to catch some fish. Neither one of us had any fishing equipment, but I figured if one person stood upstream and chased the fish, maybe other person could catch the fish further down.
We didn’t catch a single thing, but we had fun trying. At least I did. David argued with me for a while about what the point of it was. I tried to convince him that there was no point. And then he didn’t want to get his clothes wet. But once he actually got in the water, I think he had a lot of fun.
First I tried to chase the fish down, and David tried to catch them. When this was unsuccessful, we traded positions. The water was shallow, but the bottom of the river was slippery, and David was a little less steady on his feet than I was. He tripped over a rock and fell flat on his face. I yelled that he was letting all the fish get away. David said my yelling was scaring away all the fish. There was a short debate over which one of us was most at fault for the lack of fish, which ended when David tackled me and we both fell into the river. We wrestled for a little while without anyone gaining the upper hand, and then finally we were so exhausted that we dragged ourselves to the shore of the river and just watched the fish swim by.
After a while we decided we’d had enough, and started to head back into town. We walked along the brick road, and stopped to stare at various stores along the way. I really wanted to buy something at the candy store, but I knew this would embarrass David. He never had any money with him, and he got upset when I spent too much of my money on him. So we just looked instead.
On the window of the bakery was a portrait of Angelo’s face, with the words written underneath: “We Salute the Heroes of the Restoration on the 20th Anniversary”
“Do you have a pen on you?” I asked David. I knew he didn’t,of course, but I felt like I had to ask anyway.
“What? No.” David had still been eyeing the sweet bread, but he turned to me when he heard the question. “Why Jon? What are you going to do?”
I looked around and saw some charcoal lying on the side of the road. It must have fallen out from a cart that had just gone past. I picked it up and headed back to the bakery window, smiling at David. “This picture isn’t interesting enough,” I said. “Let’s add a mustache to it or something.” No, not original enough. I thought again. “Or donkey’s ears. And a tail.” I snapped my fingers as another idea struck me. “And a pitchfork, just like the devil.”
David positioned himself firmly between me and the picture. “No Jon, you’re just going to get us in trouble again. Besides, I thought Angelo was a friend of your father.”
“Yeah, well he’s not my friend. Besides I’m not going to hurt him. I’m just going to make his picture more interesting.”
David allowed me to push him aside, but didn’t stop his complaining. “Jon, will you stop and think for once? This is a stupid idea and you know it.” I had already started drawing on the picture. David’s voice became slightly more frantic. “Jon come on. I promised my mother I wouldn’t let you get me into any more trouble like this.”
“We’re not going to get in trouble.”
“That’s what you always say. And we always do. And…” David paused to look carefully at my work. “…and what are you drawing anyway?”
“I told you. Donkey ears and a tail and a pitchfork, just like the devil.”
“First of all the devil doesn’t have donkey ears, he has pointed ears, just like an elf. No, I said pointy, what are you doing? No, don’t try and scratch it out, you’ll just make a big smudge. Jon, look at what you’re doing!”
Now it was my turn to be exasperated. I let my arm drop to my side, and turned on David. “Oh come on will you? This isn’t art class.”
“Yeah, but look at that. It’s just a big smudge. No one could recognize that. I can’t even recognize that, and I know what it’s supposed to be. Here, give me the charcoal.” I handed it over. “Thank you. Now, see how I’m doing this Jon, with the nice straight lines? If you hadn’t smudged this all up first we’d be able to see it a lot clearer, but you get the idea right? Because we can’t see the ears very well, lets darken the eyebrows a little bit. Big eyebrows mean evil. Everyone knows that. Shall we put on a mustache as well?”
“The devil doesn’t have a mustache.”
“Sure he does. He’s got a long thin one like this. And whenever he’s thinking evil thoughts, he twirls the end of the mustache with his finger and laughs, just like this,” David demonstrated by twirling an imaginary mustache in the air. “I don’t have a mustache, but you see what I mean, right?” David held the charcoal at an angle so that he could draw a thin line for the mustache. “There we go. Now what else did you say you wanted on here? A tail?”
At that moment the baker came running out of his shop to witness us desecrating his window. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he yelled at us. “It’s Restoration week. Don’t you have any respect?”
I had started running almost immediately. David stood frozen where he was, and I had to dart back and tug at his arm to break him out of his daze.
I knew the Baker wouldn’t chase us. He was fat, and red faced, and it looked like the mere effort of running out of his shop had tired him out. But you never know who else is going to be around. This city was crawling with police.
Sure enough, the fat man’s cries soon brought a policeman. “After them,” the baker screamed, pointing at us. “They ruined the Restoration posters.”
We had a good start by this time and were already halfway down the block, but the policeman took after us at full speed. His legs were a lot longer than ours and he was able to cover more distance with each step. He also blew into his whistle as he ran in order to alert other police in the area. And there was never any shortage of police in the city.
The next time I looked behind me there were two policemen running. And then three. They seemed to be coming out of every alley and side street.
I figured our best chance was to head towards the center of town where the crowds were. Once we got to the market place, we could plunge into the center of the crowd, and the police would never be able to find us.
I was running so fast I could barely breath, and couldn’t find the air to voice my thoughts to David. I turned down the street towards the center of town; he kept running straight. Our eyes caught each other’s as our paths split. I tried to wave him over in my direction. He made a sudden attempt to change directions in mid stride, his feet spun on some of the loose gravel, he skidded briefly and then his feet came out from under him. He fell face forward onto the hard brick road.
Under different circumstances, it might not have been the kind of fall that he would have been soon up from. He might have gotten up slowly, looking over his injuries to make sure he was all right. Today there was no time to pause. I stopped, ran back to him, extended my hand, pulled him up, and we were off again.
But I noticed that he was not running as fast. What’s more, the police had gained even more ground while David had fallen, and they were continuing to gain ground with every step.
We turned another corner, and the market place was in sight. At the same time I noticed that David was running with a limp. He started to fall behind me. I slowed down a bit, and ran beside him, trying to urge him forward. When that didn’t seem to do any good, I reached out and grabbed his arm to pull him forward with me. That didn’t seem to help either.
The whistles kept blowing, and more police were coming out of every corner. Just a little bit more David, I thought. Please keep going just a little bit more.
We ran into the market, but didn’t slow down. I weaved in and out of people, trying to work my way through the dense crowd. I bounced off of fruit stands and stall frames. I briefly lost track of where David was. I bumped into someone carrying a box of fruit, and he dropped it on the stone ground. I could hear him yelling after me as I plunged deeper into the crowd.
As I ran, I strained my neck backwards to see how close the police were. I could still see them, but they were losing ground now. They were big and awkward, and not able to weave in and out of the crowd as well as I was.
Just as I was turning my neck straight again, I ran smack into someone. It was like hitting a wall. I bounced off of him, and fell backwards on the ground. He didn’t even move.
Dazed, I sat on the ground and looked forward at the muscular legs in front of me. I moved my eyes up to see the whole figure. I took in his massive frame. He was wearing a shirt that seemed to small for him, and was stretched tight against his muscles. He seemed like a giant towering over me, but his face was young like mine. He was only a few years older than me. In fact he looked very familiar. I think I’d seen him around school, but I was still dazed from being knocked to the ground, and I had a hard time placing him exactly.
Suddenly David was there, helping me up to my feet as he apologized to the older boy. “I’m sorry he didn’t see you there. He didn’t mean any harm.”
Even once I was standing, the older boy was still taller than me, although he didn’t look quite as gigantic as he had looked from the ground. He had very soft features in his face, which almost seemed to contradict his athletic build. His cheeks were well rounded, and his brown hair seemed very fair and light. He had soft brown eyes, which were almost exactly the same color of his hair. His eyes looked very deep and thoughtful, and I could tell he was studying me with them.
“He didn’t mean any harm,” David repeated. Then he prodded me, “right Jon?”
After the initial shock of the fall, I was beginning to come to myself again. “Right, I’m sorry. I was looking behind me. I didn’t see you standing there.”
The boy’s eyes looked past me at the approaching policemen. Then he looked at me again. And then, kind of a half smile broke out on his face, and there was a glow in his eyes that indicated he understood everything. “Hide in there,” he said, pointing with his finger. David and I followed the finger to see what he was referring to. It was a small market stall just like all the others. “There’s no one using that one today,” he explained. “It’s empty.”
I looked at David to see how he felt about the idea, but he offered no helpful comments. He just looked back at me. He was probably waiting for me to make a decision.
Hiding in an empty stall in the middle of the market seemed almost a bit too obvious. The police were sure to find us there. And there was nothing I hated more than simply sitting down and waiting for them to find me. I could handle being chased, but I couldn’t bear just sitting and waiting while they searched around. Besides, I didn’t even know this other guy, and I had no idea if he was trustworthy or not.
And yet, in spite of all these objections in my mind, I found myself following his suggestion and going into the stall. David followed me. The older boy threw a tarp over the stall to cover it up, but sunlight still streamed through the cracks and I could see David’s face blended between the sunlight and the shadows.
David now had time to examine his wounds. He put his leg into the sunlight, and looked at it from different angles. It was really scrapped up, but what do you expect from a fall like that? No deep cuts however, and the bleeding seemed to have mostly stopped already.
There was so much noise and confusion in the market place, that it was hard to tell when exactly the policemen had past us. I expected the older boy would let us know when the danger was over, or give us some sort of all clear signal, but nothing. We waited and waited, but nothing.
At first David and I waited in silence with our ears straining to catch something from the outside. He looked at me, and I looked at his face, which was half buried in sunlight, half streaked by the light. But neither of us dared to say a word.
I don’t know how long we were in there. 15 minutes? A half hour? Maybe it was only 10 minutes. I honestly don’t know. We were both so nervous, and we had nothing to do except just stare at each other in silence. Time seems to stretch on forever in those types of situations.
I signaled to David that I was going to peak outside. He nodded. I lifted the tarp up slowly and looked around. The market place was filled with people, but there were no signs of the police, or of the older boy for that matter.
I signaled for David to come out. The bright sunlight caused us to squint at first as we stepped back into the market. David was still walking with a bit of a limp, which caused me to remember his injury. “Is your leg all right?”
“What? Yeah, it’s all right.” My question had suddenly reminded David of his injury, and he re-examined his leg. “Just scrapped up.
The sunlight was still hurting my eyes. I put my hand to my forehead and squinted as I scanned the market place. “I don’t see any police. And where did that other boy go? He looked kind of familiar, didn’t he?”
“You mean Orion?”
Was that his name? I tested the sound of the word by saying it aloud. “Orion.”
“You know who Orion is, don’t you?”
“He looks familiar. I think I’ve seen him around school.”
“Jon!” David’s voice showed annoyance at my ignorance. “He’s the President of his class. He’s captain of the sports club. He’s one of the most well known people at school. I can’t believe you don’t even know who he is. He’s only two years above us.”
“Oh.” I dismissed it with a shrug. “I’ve never been interested in all that class leadership kind of stuff anyway.” My thoughts lingered on the incident briefly, and then I thought of a new point. “If he was a class leader, why would he help us run from the police?”
David raised his eyebrows in a quizzically way as if to bounce the question back at me. “I don’t know Jon. The way he looked at you, it almost seemed like he knew you. ”
I had to admit, the whole thing did seem pretty odd. “But hey, was that the coolest thing ever or what? Can you believe we outran all those police?”
That was the wrong thing to say. David did not share my enthusiasm. “Damn it Jon, I told you that was a bad idea to write on that picture. We almost got caught.”
“But we didn’t.”
“That was just luck. If you keep this up, one of these days you are going to get caught. And when that happens I really hope you don’t drag me into it.”
Ah, the ingratitude. David never appreciates all I do for him. “I save you from having a boring life. If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be reading that book.”
Again, apparently the wrong thing to say. David exploded at this. His hands flew up in the air. “I want to have a boring life. I like reading that book. Just once I want to have a quiet afternoon reading a book instead of having to run all over the city.”
David could get like this sometimes. Don’t misunderstand me, he’s a great guy. Really, he’s the best friend I’ve ever had. And good friends are hard to find; everyone knows that. But David can bend things out of proportion sometimes. The trick in talking with him is to get him to see the larger picture, while trying to avoid further antagonizing him. It’s a balancing act no doubt, and I don’t claim to do it perfectly.
David may seem upset now, but if I stopped taking him out on my little adventures, he would be bored stiff in two days. I know that, and he knows that. At least I think he knows that. [Tense?]
But every once and a while he loses perspective on things. And then what can I really say to him, without upsetting him further? I mumbled, “Sure, you say that now, but just wait until…”
David didn’t even let me finish. “I’m through for the day Jon,” he yelled as he walked off in the direction of his house. “I’m going back home to read my book. I’ll see you around tomorrow maybe, OK?”
You would have thought I forced the charcoal into his hand and made him draw. “OK, right. Take care. See you round tomorrow.”
And then after that, what was there really left to do but head home. I lived on the outskirts of the city, so maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to start heading back early anyway.
I walked through the down town area along the brick road. I passed the church where David and his family attend. Just a little further from that was our school. I hurried past the church and the school as quickly as I could. I considered it bad luck to linger around either. I had a sense that, even though the school was closed for the summer, it might suddenly come back to life and suck me back in if I was foolish enough to linger around in front of it. As for churches, they always contained in them an air of stuffiness that might leap onto me if I wandered too close.
Past some more shops. I could see the University off in the distance. Or actually all I could really see was the chapel tower with the huge cross on the top of it. The rest of the University was hidden by the large wall surrounding it.
Even though the University was really just another kind of school, it held a certain attraction for me. Mostly I was just curious about what it looked like. I wanted to see what was behind the wall.
However they were very strict about it. They never let anyone besides University students inside. David and I had tried to get in before.
And so I had to be content just looking at the large crucifix balanced on the chapel tower. The large cross towered over the rest of the city. It was like a large eye protecting the city. Even I had to admit it was a sight to behold if you saw it at the right time of day. Now it was the evening, and the sun was just setting down behind the cross. Rays of sunlight spilled out from behind the cross, and the sun was obscured from view. You almost got the impression that the cross itself was the origin of the light. And the cross, by its benevolence, scattered the golden rays of evening on all the houses and shops below.
I came to a river and crossed a bridge. On the other side of the river the brick road ended, and a dirt road began. The dirt was hardened by horses hooves and the wagon wheels, but my feet managed to kick up some dust as I walked along.
There were still houses along both sides of the road, but the houses were now slightly apart, and there was a small garden between each house. As I continued along the road, the gardens became bigger and bigger. The houses were getting bigger as well.
I came upon another church. This was the one my family and I attended on Sunday mornings. It was a lot newer than the one David and his family attended. It was bigger also, even though less people attended it. Due to my fear of churches, I hurried past it as quickly as I could.
Finally I arrived at my house. I was pretty sure the only one home was Abel, not counting the servants. My father usually worked late.
I walked along the path through our garden and to the door of the house, I tugged at the huge door handle, and it opened with a loud creak.
I hate it when the door makes a noise. I like to come and go without people knowing about it. Once the servants saw it was only me, they went back to their usual business. Only the butler stayed.
“Welcome home Jonathon. Is there anything you’ll be needing?”
“No, I’m fine. Where is everyone?”
“Your younger brother is taking a nap. Your father is still with the Duke, and won’t be expected home for a couple more hours. He did leave instructions though that you were to clean up before dinner tonight. I can draw your bath whenever you’re ready.”
“Not just yet. I’m going to go out back and play with the dogs for a while,” I answered. “I’ll be back inside soon.”
**********************************************
My father’s eyes narrowed in the candlelight. He had been very quiet all dinner, and I could tell that his mind was still at work even though his body had come home. He was staring off into space with his usual distracted expression as he slowly chewed his food. Abel and I occasionally looked at each other, but both of us were more than happy to let the dinner pass in silence, and neither of us tried to talk to my father.
As I was reaching across the table for another piece of bread, my father’s hand suddenly shot out and grabbed my wrist. “Hey!” I yelled out in protest. I tried to pull my arm back, but he held firm on my wrist and then turned my hand over. He pulled my whole arm into the candlelight and examined it.
“I left specific instructions that you were to clean up before dinner. Did you get my message?”
Because it wasn’t really a question, it never crossed my mind to try and lie about it. He knew that the butler had told me. “Yeah, I got it.”
He tightened his grip on my wrist. “And?”
“I was going to, but I lost track of the time. I’ll clean up after dinner.”
It was always difficult to tell how he was going to react. He was very unpredictable. Depending on his mood, or what kind of day he had at work, or how much sleep he got the night before, or a million other unforeseen factors, he might either choose to overlook this, or he could make a big deal about it and lecture me for the rest of dinner, or he might even explode into an angry temper tantrum and shout at Abel and I for the rest of the dinner, maybe throw some plates onto the ground, and then stomp angrily into the other room.
He gave my arm a final tug forward, practically bringing me out of my seat and onto the table myself. He tightened his grip, looked into my eyes and said slowly, “This doesn’t happen again. When I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it.” And then that was it. He let go of my arm, and went back to eating his food. I had gotten off easy.
Once the food had been cleared away, and the servants brought him coffee and his pipe, he became more pleasant. He lit his pipe and took in the first few puffs to get the flame going. He sipped his coffee, and then leaned back in his chair.
Abel and I were not considered old enough to have either tobacco or coffee, but we were stuck at the table until my father officially dismissed us. He made an effort to engage us in conversation. Turning to me first, he said, “So tell me Jonathon, what did you do today?”
“Nothing really. I hung out first with Simon, and then David in the afternoon. We looked at the pictures of the Restoration heroes down town.”
He groaned. “Oh, the posters? Don’t talk about that now. I just spent all day getting ready for Restoration week. I’ve told Flash again and again I don’t think any of it is worth it. And Angelo. He is obsessed with having his poster all over the city. You would not believe the headaches Angelo is causing me.”
“I saw his picture,” Abel said. “Was Angelo the greatest hero?”
My father let out a small laugh, took a drink of his coffee, and then answered. “Well, you would certainly think so by looking at the posters, wouldn’t you?
“Depending on which one you looked at,” I chimed in.
For half-a-second, my father gave me a puzzled look, then disregarded me and turned his attention back to Abel. “Angelo wasn’t any more of a hero than the rest of us. I did just as many heroic things as Angelo. And of course Flash was the biggest hero of us all.”
Abel leaned forward eagerly. He was always like this when my father told the old stories. “Tell me about the Restoration again,” Abel pleaded. “Please, please tell the stories again.”
I cringed at hearing these words, because I knew my father never turned down a request to talk about the old days. Not that I blamed Abel for asking this. When I was his age I never tired of hearing about the Restoration either. But I was feeling a little too old to sit through these stories once again. Besides I had heard it all a million times before. “Can I go now?” I asked.
My father turned sharply on me. “You will sit there until I dismiss you,” he yelled.
I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms across my chest in a sullen manner as my father turned back to Abel. He inhaled a mouthful of smoke and let it out slowly, contemplating the wisps of smoke as they curled upwards. At last he said, “You should have seen Flash. “The way he commanded the men, the way he inspired them, it was something. I’ll never forget the way he lead the charge up the hill. Jonathon, don’t roll your eyes.” I didn’t think he could see me, but like all parents he had extra senses. He didn’t even break his rhythm, but kept on with his story. “I was right at his side the whole time. So was Timothy. The Blues poured down bullets on us like rain, but the three of us stayed in the front of the charge till the end. We got to the top, and Flash wanted to be the first one to fire his revolver into the Blue stronghold. His gun misfired right at the moment when they were coming at us. The Blues would have had him then if I hadn’t fired twice.”
“You saved his life?” Abel said in amazement.
My father smiled and dismissed Abel’s comment with a shake of his head. “It was nothing. I had my revolver ready and I fired twice at the Blues. It was what any man would have done. I was a dead shot in those days as well. Hit the Blues right between the eyes, both of them. They fell to the ground like anvils, their heads hitting first. Flash didn’t even stop to thank me. He just took their guns off of them and then plunged into the Blue fortress. It was pure suicide, but he always had to be the first to go anywhere. He saved my life many times. I saved his life that once. It was just what he expected. No words of thanks were necessary.”
“And Angelo?” Abel was leaning forward eagerly to hear every word.
“Angelo was there as well. He came into the fortress right behind us. Angelo was ruthless in those days. He wanted to kill every single Blue. Flash was more generous. Once we had defeated the Blues and secured the fortress, Flash let all the surviving Blues go. Timothy and I agreed with Flash. The Blues had fought just as bravely as we had. They deserved their lives. But Angelo was furious. He wanted to avenge all our dead. He wanted to kill all the Blues in revenge for the men we lost. Flash won the argument of course.”
My father took a deep breath. “Ah, the Restoration days,” he said. He was looking in Abel’s direction but his eyes were looking past Abel. “Those were great days. The Whites and the Blues taught each other how to die like heroes. You never see that kind of heroism these days. The best men all died in the Restoration battle. Like Mucius; he took two bullets, one in the leg and one in the shoulder. It knocked him clean to the ground. We all thought he was done for the day, but he stood back up. With blood pouring out of his leg he kept running up the hill. The Blues had never seen anything like it before. He got cut down in the next volley, but he died like a hero. Timothy and I picked his body up and shielded it from the Blues. We brought it back to be buried at our home in the country.” His voice was getting a little weak at this point. No matter how many times he told this story, his voice always got scratchy when he mentioned the burial.
There was a moment of silence. My father was lost in his own thoughts, and Abel was too awed to speak. Even I thought it would be disrespectful to disturb him now. And then, becoming aware of the silence, he snapped out of it. “That’s why Angelo wanted to kill all of the Blues; in revenge for men like Mucius. And I could understand his reasons, but in the end I sided with Flash. The Blues had fought just as bravely as we had. There were heroes on both sides. I never hated the Blues. I respected them for their bravery. And they didn’t hate us. When we finally won, you should have seen how eagerly they bowed down to Flash. There wasn’t a trace of resentment or anger in them. It was touching to see how much they admired Flash, even though he had beaten them. And after the battle, Flash pardoned every single one of them; all the ones that survived the charge at least.”
“Are there any Blues left?” Abel asked.
“No, the war has been over for a long time now. The Restoration was 20 years ago, before either of you were even born. There are no Blues or Whites left anymore.”
“But I want to fight in the war,” Abel protested.
My father chuckled. When he was in a good mood, his voice had a deep, rich, almost friendly quality to it. “I don’t think this country could handle another war like that. The last one was bad enough. That’s why I fought in the Restoration; to make sure there would be peace when my children were born. We won, and there has been peace in Fabulae ever since.” And yet despite his words, there was something in my father’s voice, which suggested he was pleased with Abel’s comment.
Although he hadn’t finished all of his coffee, my father pushed his cup and saucer to the side. The servants, who had been watching silently, descended un-beckoned to clear away his coffee and the remainder of the table decorations. My father stood up, indicating that the dinner was officially over, and we were dismissed. “I’ve got a lot of work to do tonight, so I don’t want to be disturbed,” he said. “If you boys can’t occupy yourselves quietly tonight, I will find things for you to do. And don’t stay up too late either. Remember we have church in the morning. I don’t want either of you oversleeping tomorrow morning.”
******************************************************************************
My head was still a bit groggy. It was eight in the morning. Eight wasn’t early, but then early is a relative term. During summer vacation I usually slept in till around nine every day. Eight seemed like the crack of dawn. If it was during the school year, when I was used to getting up early, it wouldn’t be so bad. But now my head was heavy with sleep, and I lumbered around the room. I wanted nothing more than to just fling myself down on the bed and go back to sleep, but…
“Jonathon, hurry up! I told you last night specifically not to oversleep.” Even though he was on the bottom floor, my father’s voice came up to my room loud and clear. I tried to shake the sleepiness off as I made my way towards my clothes.
My Sunday clothes were in an entirely different part of the closet than my regular clothes. They didn’t get touched except for Sunday. They were also year round clothes, which meant they were all right in winter, but in the summer heat they were stifling. I sat down on the bed as I put on the long black pants, then the socks. I always thought my black Sunday socks were very itchy, but I knew they weren’t designed for comfort.
My Sunday shoes were slightly too small for my feet, but my father insisted that there was no need to get a new pair since I only wore them once a week anyway. I crammed my feet into them. The itchiness of the socks now combined with the tightness of the shoes. It wasn’t so bad now, but I knew during the sermon it would drive me crazy. Because I was only 15, I still wasn’t expected to wear a tie to church. And yet the stiff collared shirt alone was bad enough in summer. I could feel the stiff collar rubbing my neck.
I put my finger under the collar in a futile attempt to stop the rubbing. As I pulled at the collar, I walked to the window and looked outside. It was a beautiful morning.
“Jonathon!” His voice had risen in pitch. He was losing patience. I decided it would be unsafe to keep him waiting much longer.
“Coming,” I yelled back. I buckled my shoes, and was out the door. I put on my belt as I walked down the stairs, and met my father and Abel standing at the door.
My father looked at his watch impatiently. “So you’re going to make us late this week again as well Jonathon?”
I glanced at the grandfather clock down the hall. “We’re not late yet.”
“Well we’re not going to be early either,” he said sternly. The tone of his voice checked me from making some sort of remark in reply.
Abel was five years younger than me, and had not yet learned when it is best to stay quiet. “I don’t want to go to church today,” he whined.
Abel was standing directly in front of my father, so he was within easy reach. My father’s hands came down and grabbed Abel’s shoulders. Abel winced as my father’s hands squeezed his shoulders, but I knew it was only a warning. “Don’t you ever complain about going to church again,” my father said. Adding one last squeeze for emphasis, my father released his grip. Abel was silent.
My father opened the door, and we walked out.
**************************************************
The church was only about a ten-minute walk from our house. In fact all the families that attended lived nearby. Most of my school friends lived close to the center of town, and that meant there was almost nobody I knew at our church. The only classmate at my church was Rosa, and she never talked to me anyway so it was just as if she wasn’t there.
Abel was luckier than I was. He had about 5 or 6 friends from school at the church. They always played together after the sermon, while I was left standing with my hands in my pocket or making small talk with the adults.
The church had just been remodeled, and still looked new and shiny from the outside. It had the usual steeple and stained glass windows, which I suppose are standard on every church. Inside it had rows of pews are facing the large cross at the front. Below the cross was the minister’s pulpit. He was already standing at the pulpit and beginning the service when we walked in. My father hated being late, and he glared at me as we entered.
The ushers quickly showed us to our seats. There were three open spaces in a pew toward the center back. As I sat down, I noticed that we were sitting directly behind Rosa.
No sooner had we sat down then the service began. The minister held his hands out over the congregation in his standard blessing pose. “And now,” he said in his deep voice, “let us pray.” My head immediately dropped down to a bowed position out of years of habit. “Dear God, we thank you today for all the blessings you have given us. We thank you that we are so gifted to live in a wonderful country, and so blessed with great abundance of wealth. We thank you for the era of peace that we now live in, and we thank you that you have sent your servant, the Duke, to watch over our land and to keep our people safe and prosperous. We pray God that we may serve you better…” His voice drowned on in monotone. I had a hard time concentrating on what he was saying, but I kept my head bowed and my eyes closed in a reverent position.
I always felt a little light heading after praying for a long time. With my head bowed down, the blood swirled down into it. I couldn’t see anything because my eyes were closed, but if I kept my eyes closed long enough, I began to imagine that I actually did see light patterns playing off the back of my eyelids. The longer I concentrated on those patterns, the more light headed I got. Eventually I decided to discreetly open my eyes for a while, and see if that helped to clear my brain.
Abel was always worse than me. Now that my eyes were opened, I could see him fidgeting in the other seat. Because my head was still bowed down, and because my father was sitting between Abel and myself, I couldn’t see him well, but I could see the movement.
My father must have noticed the same thing, because out of the corner of my eye I could see my father’s hand come down strong on Abel’s neck, and force Abel’s head back into a bowed position.
I closed my eyes again. The minister seemed to be wrapping up his prayer. “And we pray God that you may continue to bless our nation, and continue to bless our gracious leader the Duke. In your most holy name, Amen.”
Everyone raised their head and opened their eyes at once. I blinked a few times. The church seemed to be unusually bright. “Please open your hymnals and turn to page 93,” the minister said, “and sing with our choir.
As the singing began, I noticed several people were turning around and looking toward the back of the church. Rosa, who was sitting in front of me, turned around and looked backwards. Her eyes looked right past me. I smiled at her in a greeting, but she didn’t appear to notice me. After years of going to Church and school with her, I knew that her ability not to notice me was almost superhuman.
At last I also turned my head to see what everyone was looking at. The Duke had just entered the back of the Church. He almost always arrived late. There was a seat reserved for him at the back of the church. He slipped into calmly and grabbed a hymnal and opened it up and starting singing, as if he had been in the church from the start of the service.
Old Flash wasn’t that interesting, so I returned my gaze to the front of the church and continued singing the hymn. Rosa as well turned around and looked at the front, without ever having given any indication that she even noticed I was there.
We finished the hymn, and the minister directed everyone to sit down. Between the hymns that the congregation sang, and the songs that the choir performed, there was always a lot of music in church, but I have a hard time remembering any of it. Church music always sounds the same to me. After a while it all blends in into the same song.
The minister began his sermon on the importance of holiness. My father kept a strict eye on us to ensure that Abel and I did not sleep during the sermon, but I had a hard time concentrating just the same. My mind wandered in and out. I began to imagine things on the wall behind the minister. I looked at the large cross standing behind him. How many lines could I intersect with that cross vertically? What about perpendicular? How many more crosses of the same size could fit on the wall? I usually figured about 3 full size crosses, and then one half, but every week I rechecked my measurements.
The sermon ended. We sang a closing hymn. The minister gave us his benediction, and then everyone stood up to leave. Rosa turned around and made a beeline for the exit, again walking past me but taking no notice.
The Duke shook hands with everyone as they were leaving. In every handshake he exuded a warmth and friendliness that flowed out of his body. He smiled at each person and made them feel like they were his best friend. And, a natural politician, he was able to do all this without showing effort. He was a regular presence at this church, and everyone was used to seeing him, and most were on friendly terms. However my father was the only one close enough to the Duke to address him by his nickname.
“Flash, how are you doing?” he called out as slapped his palm into the Duke’s outstretched hand.
“Not too bad,” Flash said with a wide smile. “I hear Angelo has been working you hard lately.”
My father made a face. “I swear this whole nonsense with the Restoration anniversary–.”
“Now don’t you start that again,” Flash cut him off. “I’ve been listening to you complain all week.” Flash was the same age as my father, but he had aged very well. There were some streaks of gray in his hair, mixed in with the black, and his face was looking slightly weathered but without wrinkles. His eyes still had a youthful look in them. And whereas My father had developed a slight gut recently, Flash was still as fit and trim as ever. He looked very statesman like. “And how are you doing, Jonathon?” the Duke asked.
“We’re all busy trying to keep him out of trouble,” my father said.
“Now Paul, let the boy talk. School’s starting again soon isn’t it? How old are you this year Jonathon? Sixteen? Seventeen?”
He was smooth that Flash. No one else told ever told me I looked that old. I knew he was just flattering me, but I swelled up with pride just the same. “I’m fifteen.”
Flash shook his head in disbelief and looked at my father. “I still remember the day Jonathon was born. It’s amazing how fast he’s growing up.” He looked back down at me. “Before you know it, you’ll be working for me just like your father.”
“Oh, that’s a long way off yet,” my father put in hastily.
“It will be here before you know it,” Flash said. “He’s fourteen now. Only eight more years and I’ll be listening to him complain about the Restoration Anniversary.” Flash looked at me again. “What have you been doing this summer Jonathon?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer this. I knew the Duke didn’t want to hear about everything single thing I had been doing, and yet I didn’t feel that my summer adventures lended themselves to short sound bites. “Nothing.”
Flash seemed to think this was incredibly funny. “Now that’s a lie if I ever heard one,” he said after a hearty chuckle. “You’ve been getting into all sorts of trouble, haven’t you? You’re father is always telling stories about you. Aren’t you Paul?”
This is a prime example of why I hated talking to my father’s friends. It was like I wasn’t really part of the conversation, but simply a conversation prop for the two of them to talk about. I looked past the Duke and saw the sun streaming in through the door. “Can I go outside?” I asked my father.
“Jonathon, the Duke is talking to you.” My father couldn’t yell at me in the Church, but his voice had a strained quality to it.
The Duke only laughed. He turned his head around to follow my gaze out the door. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it Jonathon? You go ahead.”
I had no more friends outside than I did inside. Abel and his friends were running and laughing and playing some sort of tag. But there was no one my age. Rosa, even if she would have acknowledged me, was already walking home with her family.
But outside was always better than inside, if for no other reason than to escape the stale, stuffy air that stays inside the church. Although, basking in the warm sunshine only made me more conscious that I had spent the morning in its absence.
The Church was on a hill, and from the doorway I could see out over the whole neighborhood. In every direction were elegant looking mansions and expansive gardens. I could hear a dog barking from somewhere.
Abel and his friends ran in front of me, briefly distracting me from my thoughts. I followed them with my eyes as they ran around the churchyard. Since Abel was younger, he was allowed to still normally for church. I couldn’t imagine running around in my Church clothes. I moved so stiffly in them. Plus my father would kill me if he caught me running around and wrestling on the grass with these clothes on. I longed to be home already and fling all of these clothes on the floor.
Many of the adults said good-bye to me as they left the church. Eventually my father and the Duke left the church, still laughing and talking to each other on their way out the door. Then Abel and I walked home with our father.
We walked most of the way home in silence. My father was obviously brooding about something, but I thought it best not to ask. Sometimes if you leave him alone long enough, his anger eventually passes by itself. Then again, sometimes he can turn unexpectedly and angrily bring up something that happened hours or days before.
When we were halfway home, my father turned to me suddenly and said, “You weren’t very polite to the Duke this morning.”
I waited to see if he would elaborate, but he just looked at me. “I’m sorry,” I replied automatically.
“When he is talking to you, you answer his questions fully. If he asks you what you are doing this summer, don’t you ever say ‘nothing’ again.”
“But you just answer the questions for me anyway,” I said.
He grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him. “What I say has nothing to do with this. I’m talking about how you act in front of the Duke. And don’t you ever, ever ask to go outside while he’s still speaking to you.” The prospect of a long conversation with old Flash did not thrill me, and it must have reflected on my face because my father took it upon himself to convince me further. “You know, you’re going to be working for him someday. You might as well get on good terms with him now.”
“What if I don’t want to work for the Duke?” I knew better than to say that, but I acted without thinking.
“Don’t be stupid Jonathon,” my father replied, as if the question was not even worth addressing. He started walking again. Abel and I followed him. We walked the rest of the way home in silence.
