Family Farewells

As she walked to the front door, she felt Quest take her arm and they walked up together. Her father opened the door as they stepped up to it. She smiled at her father and noticed that he almost glared at Quest. Quest nodded to him as he let go of her arm. He extended his hand and introduced himself.

“Hello, my name is Myke Quest.”

“Bill Schumpert.”  Her father said and then when she grimaced he took Quest’s hand and shook it firmly. He raised an eyebrow at her and said. “Come in, they are all waiting for you in the dining room.”

Fathers, she thought are as consistent as the taxman, bring a boy to your door and no matter what age they are your father will treat them a he would any boyfriend she had ever had. She was glad she never had brought Frank or Steve over. Talk about awkward.  She made sure Quest went in after her father in case he had planned to shut the door in his face. She paused in the entry way and touched Quest on the arm. He looked and her and smiled.

“Yes?”

“Myke?”

“It’s easier to pronounce than Mysti̱rió̱deis gios Michaí̱l Xénos tou Árgous.”

“Oh, I guess it is. You are going to have to tell me what all that means someday.”

“Someday I will say tell it to you in my native tongue Thessolonykan.”

“You are incredible.”

“I know, it’s what my mother was always telling me.”

She laughed.

            They were all standing around the dinner table when they arrived. Sure enough her mom had been cooking, but there was also a banner that read “Bon Voyage, Van!” strung on one wall and everyone including her father had a party hat on. She laughed as they all clapped for her. She took a modest bow and swept off her cap. For a time she forgot that she was leaving and that these people were anything but her family. 

back to the story

The thing about family is they are what they are and inevitably embarrassing, awkward, overriding, often overbearing but also supportive and endearing all rolled up into one fortunate mess for many people. Vanessa would wonder how she- should be so lucky to have a family when for all intents and purpose should be an orphan. For the first time, since Quest had come back into her life she wondered if she had any blood relations or was she in fact a true orphan. No mother, no father… father? Why had she never thought of the lack of any memory of a father?

She supposed it was because that her adoptive father had always been such a rock of stability in her life it would be hard to imagine anything or anyone else having that role. She loved her adoptive mother but it wasn’t the same, Mom was delicate and not the rock that Dad had always been. Still the thought of not knowing of her father bothered her a great deal and she resolved to ask Quest of him as soon as the opportunity arose. She had no memory of a father but she couldn’t help but feel like there was an impression of him somewhere in her psyche.

this might end up being the chapter on Vanessa's mother

            The Queen died in the stillness of the rising sun, with the word, “love,” forever frozen on her lips. Her eyes looking deep into the paladin’s as she grew distant and cold. He stood there lost in his memories of her past and the loss of her future. She lay upon the bed that had been erected for her the night before out on the balcony above the court. He had brought her there in

            Terra, her handmaid, ran screaming from the dusky room. The aura lamps faded with the rise of the sun. The room grew dark as shadows grew and stretched out to blanket the silence. A calm breeze slid in from the open balcony, its chill bringing me back to reality from the shock of her death. I slowly rose from her side to retrieve her sword. Arrymis, the Queen's manservant, stood behind me. His face blank and emotionless as he held the sword out to me. With a nod, I took the sword from him in silence and returned to the Queen and placed the sword in her now cold hands. Arrymis came out of the shadows to stand opposite me across the Queen's body.

            As the first shards of light fell into the room we began the Ra-sheed, the ritual of death according to the Circle of the Code. I placed my left hand on Whisper, the Queen's sword, and clenched the blade as I slid from tang to point drawing out my life's blood. Then with my hand clenched, I anoint her eyes, temple and mouth with droplets of my blood. Fresh blood to aid her passing into the hall of heroes befitting a warrior of her stature.  Arymiss passes me a bandage for the cut. Looking around I quickly find the bowl of perfume on a table by the dais. The perfume smells of roses and wine.

            "Like love and war, so death goes hand in hand with birth." We chant in soft tones. I hand Arrymis the perfume. He pours the perfume on her black silken hair; it runs in rivulets down her long strands onto the dais. He moves down her body slowly pouring the perfume across the serpentine scale tunic, and down her legs to come to rest at her boots. He breathes heavily as if he had held his breath as the last of the perfume drips onto her greaves. The perfume catches the shards of light filling the chamber and making her armor gleam like polished silver.

            "Like honor and wisdom, so does virtue and loyalty bind us together. For together we stand and apart we cannot. We must embrace death as we embrace life without fear if we are to remain strong." I hear myself speaking but the words sound distant as if someone else is speaking them from the other side of the room.

            "Like service and honesty, so does deeds and renown go hand in hand with the sacrifices of those in battle and in peace." Arrymis answers as he hands me the jar of oil. I stand silently holding it as he spreads the ashes of her horse-which had died earlier- across her body. Then I open the oil jar and pour its rich dark mixture out over her body. The dark golden oil pools in and around the ash and perfume. I discard the jar- dropping it by the dais; it shatters with a crash loud as thunder in the empty room. 

            Arrymis holds out her draconian helm to me; I place it beside her head. The smell of perfume and oil is almost intoxicating as I reach down and open the silver canister by the dais. I retrieve a single match, long and thin. I look back at Arrymis to say the final incantation before lighting the match.

            "Good journeys, Ardissa, until the cycle repeats itself." As I say the words, Arrymis retreats back into the shadows leaving the room.. He has probably gone to seek new employment.

            "Better than dying." I hear myself say.

            A shriek then voices in the stairwell. Time to say good-bye.

With an unsteady hand I touch the tip of the match to the cold stone near Ardissa's head, then pull it down along the side of her body. The match moves in slow motion. First one spark, then another and another until the match catches fire and burns. The fire catches the oil and flares. Then the moment passes and the flames race along across her body until she is consumed. Even in death she remains beautiful and powerful.

            I stand back to watch the funeral pyre burn. The black, thick, sweet smoke fills the room and then boils out of the balcony door to drift of into the sky. There is a moaning, but I think it might be the wind. I stand now surrounded by the vapors and smoke. I say good-bye one more time and walk out the door.

She was only three days older than twenty-one.

We pause again to take a look at some stuff I found from a earlier attempt at this Story

My story really starts when I first met Quest, but you won’t be able to understand any of it unless I back up to the beginning before my meeting him. My friend Meryl says that beginnings are the hardest thing to write about because you are never quite sure where the story really began. I mean does my story begin at my birth or conception? Or is it even further back with how my parents first met; do I look back to what made them make the monumental decision to marry and have me? Someone could well go crazy trying to figure out how far back a story goes. Of course, Meryl tells me from over his forgotten spectacles, that the real stories start at the source. It’s like an inside joke for us, knowing that the source is really The Source, but to anyone else trying to write this, The Source has no concrete tangible meaning. It is enough to know that I came directly from The Source, even though I was born like almost everyone else from the coupling of parents.

            My name is Vanessa Isabelle Merce Masters, “Vimm” for short, the only daughter of Tybalt Alexander Masters and Helen Maria Washington.  I have a brother, Steven Richard. My father is of African American descent and my mother is Caucasian, English and some Scot as well. It is an odd mix even with my father’s light skin for a “black” man and my mother’s paleness. They stand in contrast to each other. Tybalt is the result of a mixed pairing as well which explains his complexion. His own father was a college educated man who saw himself as an outcast from the rest of his people because of his enlightenment and he met and married my grandmother Ridhi while on his pilgrimage to Mecca when he got sidetracked and ended up in Bali. That’s what he likes to tell me anyway, he was trying out Islam and settled for Buddhism instead.

            My mother met my father at Harvard when he tutored her in Shakespeare, which has been a family joke ever since. If you don’t see that irony, I am not going to explain it. In fact, you had best just find another book to read since the wit continues throughout. Anyway, mom fell for dad’s prose and charm. Her parents were at first shocked and appalled when she first brought him home. But he grew on them and they came to accept him and his parents as well. At least that is what they chose to tell me about it, I suspect it wasn’t all that smooth a transition for any of them. They all get along now, though sometimes it is just creepy how well they do.

            My parents like to call me Merce (pronounced “Mercy”). Where they came up with that name is beyond me, but they liked it as well as all the others. They would only use my full name when introducing me formally at church or whenever I got them mad or flustered. Then mom would yell my name while raising her hands to the heavens as if pleading with God to come down and sort me out Himself. Religion, by the way, is the one thing in my family that no one agrees on. Dad is an atheist or agnostic whenever the mood hits him, usually when he is almost ready to swear but isn’t alone. Mom is stuck between being an Episcopalian and a universalist. Her parents are hard line Episcopalians while Dad’s are settled on being Buddhists. So everyone puts a lot of pressure on me in assuring me not to be pressured into one faith or the other or lack there of. Frankly I haven’t decided yet.

           

            I was born in Queens, that’s in New York City for those of you who are from around here. However, I only know of it from visits there to see my grandparents on my dad’s side. We moved to Fall’s Creek, Virginia when I was two so dad could take up teaching at the university near there. Mom became an editor for the Creek Herald newspaper shortly after arriving. 

             

Dinner at 4. Family at 5 o'clock.

Vanessa fidgeted all the way to her parents’ house. What would she say to them, how would she make them understand?  Saying you are going away and going are often two very different things entirely. She was pretty sure she knew that her father was dealing with it well but she already knew that her mother had decided that somehow this was all because they had concealed the adoption from her. Her siblings had been mildly amused since this was the first time that Vanessa had talked of going anywhere before- she had not even gone away to college.

            Now that she thought of it, she wondered if the reason she had always stayed close to home was because somehow she knew instinctively that Quest would come for her one day. She looked out the window at the streets she had grown up on and realized that they were almost there. She realized to some horror that she was gnawing on her thumbnail and made herself stop.

            The car pulled to a smooth stop in front of her parents’ house. Time to face the music- this would be the hardest part yet. She took a deep breath, glanced over at Quest to find an empty seat. Puzzled she looked around, then her car door opened and there he was.

            “Your Highness. “ He demurred softly.

She blinked up at him, then gave herself a little shake and climbed out of the car onto her parents’ freshly cut lawn. It was late afternoon, early spring, the green grass soft under her feet; the smells of cooking coming out of the house. Yes, when in doubt, her mother would cook dinner.

            “I guess we will stay for an early dinner.” Quest said, bemused.

She shot him a glance and he grinned and licked his lips. She felt the urge to roll her eyes heavenward.

The world was moving she was right there with it (and she was)

            Sue looked around the office, her office now, anyways. It had been Vanessa’s office. Vanessa had bequeathed it to her along with her former job. Sue- Susan B. Anthony (yes her parents did have a sense of history and humor as it turned out) was now an Ad Exec. She had reached the top of the food chain at last. Well not the top but very close to it. She was cubicle fodder no more!

            Sue felt like getting up on the desk and declaring this loudly to the entire office. Maybe it she had had too much to drink? Nah, she told herself and looked around again. The desk dominated the office, It was a mahogany and some Asian wood affair, big and heavier than her car. This thought reminded Sue that she would need to trade that mini coup in on a SUV some type to match her salary increase. Not for the first time she had to smile, Vanessa losing it that day many months ago had began her own climb to this office. She felt bad for the woman, she had admired Vanessa audacity and drive but then the woman had simply turned her back on all this and given up everything that mattered to Sue- and for what?  The word of some homeless guy who had snuck into her office to turn her world upside down; life was amazingly weird sometimes.

            Vanessa’s parting gifts had been very generous if not offhanded, Sue’s favorite would have to be Vanessa telling Steve that Sue was the “best man” for the job she had just resigned from. Steve had stood there caught somewhere between dumbfounded shock and amazement gawking at Sue like he had never seen her before. She suspected that Steve still believed that Vanessa had only quit because she had gone to work for one of their major competitors. Still, after much grumbling, hedging around and general bull-headedness, Steve had conceded that Vanessa was right and offered Sue the job.

            Sue knew that she could do the job as well as Vanessa had done it. No, she would be better at it than her former boss and friend. She now had the wardrobe, jewelry and makeup to accomplish it with. She was not about to let Steve give it away to some up and coming punk. NO, she would not let it come to that.

            She crossed over to the desk and walked around it letting her hand trace it’s smooth surface until she came to the chair. She spun it around to look out the window. What had Vanessa seen out this window that had made her take this man at her word? No, she chided herself, she was not going there. Instead, she spun around feeling a slight thrill at seeing her office spin back in view. With a satisfied moan she spread her hands across the wide desktop, it was hers- all hers. Her fingertips traced the surface of the desk which was smooth and slick thanks to the high gloss upon it. Then the fingers encountered the unexpected.

            Sue sat up suddenly aware that something was wrong, really wrong with her desk. Nervously she reached out towards the outer edge of the desk and tentatively felt around for the interruption on the desk’s smooth surface. At first she couldn’t find anything and was about to relax when her fingers found it again.  She could not quite make it out from her angle so she got up and jogged around the desk to take a closer look. Sure enough there was a rough, bumpy patch near the forward edge of the desk, right where the dark mahogany met the other wood, maybe it was teak? She bent to take a closer look. She inwardly curse and swore that she would find the overzealous member of the office cleaning crew and make him pay for over cleaning a coffee spill. What she saw sent chills down her spine.

            “No, no, no- not the desk.” Sue thought as she began to rub at it. “please not the desk.”

Steve decided to stick his head in like he usually did.

            “We on for lunch?”

Sue gave a yelp and spun around to face him. Steve looked surprised too. She sat back against the desk and felt the anomaly in it push up against her butt. She swallowed, unsuccessfully and blinked a few times, but the lump of unbelief stayed lodged in her throat. To her rising horror, Steve came all the way into the office.

            “What’s that?” He asked trying to peer behind her.

            “Nothing- it’s nothing.” She straightened as he came to stand beside her, knowing she was trapped she turned around and together they looked down at the anomaly. Steve blinked and then bent over to take a closer look. Sue felt herself reaching out to cover it with her hands even though she did not know what “it” was.

            “It kind of looks like…” but he trailed off, obviously not know what it looked like.

            She managed to get his attention by shifting her boobs which (thank the stars) where showing a lot of cleavage this morning under her new white blouse under his nose. He grinned and momentarily distracted looked away from the desk and up to the general vicinity of her face.

            “Up here, Steve.” She said pointing up at her face. “I will meet you at the elevator in five minutes.”

            Steve’s eyes drifted away as he seemed to struggle to remember what had gotten him to look down but he didn’t break contact with hers.

            “Oh, Okay I will see you there then.” He nodded once then twice and left.

            As soon as she was sure he was gone, Sue gave herself a small shake. She took another look at the bump on the desks surface, there was a distinct shape to it, it almost looked like someone had force a seed down into the seam between the two woods except the woods itself appeared to have grown together there as if wanting to blend together. She had never seen it before- she was almost sure anyway.

            Sue straightened, took a deep breath, walked over to her hutch and gathered her purse and sun glasses. She paused by the mirror by the door to check her hair and lipstick. After a moment she unbuttoned a few in order for her cleavage to show more- best to keep Steve interested in something other than her desk for the time being. As she walked out, she wondered if Vanessa was having the last laugh after all.

departure and a tree sized problem

They sat side by side in the car; Vanessa felt pangs of excitement mingled with fear. The jitters, it’s the jitters she kept saying to herself. Oh God, who was she kidding? She was terrified and suddenly unsure. What was she doing? This was crazy.

            “They are only your parents and family. They may not like what you are doing but they will accept your decision on it. They have to- they love you after all.”

            She looked at him. She didn’t know how he could keep doing that but he just seemed to know what she was thinking. She thought back over the past weeks. They had gone so quickly, it seemed, since Quest had first come back into her life. A sense of wonder spread over her heart. So much had happened; so many things had changed- both good and bad. Her family was confused but not resistant.

            She knew that the car was taking them out to her parents house. She knew that her brothers would be there. She knew that Dad would go get her sister. She knew she would have to take time to say goodbye to each of them. She knew she was ready. But- but what?

            But what? Then it hit her that there was something she had forgotten about. What was Sue going to do with that mahogany and teak desk in her old office. She looked over at Quest who started smiling.

            “This is all your fault, you know.” She quipped.

Quest laughed his musical laugh, shook his head and winked at her.

“Perhaps she can replant it.” 

life is complicated and bedtime wishes

Vanessa and I have been busy writing but I have had no time to transcribe her bit. Come back tomorrow to see her farewell to her adoptive family. Right now I am beat and Van is sending me to bed.

Good night all and my Queen.

happy april 1st day

Joseph Levi Brewer (September 13, 1936- July 27, 1998)

            J.L., as he was always called by the family, was known as the unluckiest person anyone knew. Relatives always spoke of “Poor Little J.L.” He was the youngest child of Daisy and Arnold Brewer and was barely over a year old when Arnold was killed. When he was three, he broke his shoulder and also developed painful hemorrhoids that plagued him off and on from the time he was four years old. About the time he was old enough, he developed rheumatic fever and was extremely ill for a long time.

            His mother, Daisy, was going to Stair Tech taking a course that would get her a job at Hahn Hussein; his sister Evelyn was fourteen and had to quit school to care for him. As Evelyn said there was always something wrong with J.L. At some point he had to be hospitalized for lead poisoning. He also married a young woman named Wilma Stamps and they had one child, Joey. J.L. worked and lived in Michigan for awhile.

            J.L. cam back to Knoxville  and got a job in construction; he was working on a bridge at the Alcoa exit over Tyson Park when he fell fifty feet and landed on bags of concrete and logs and suffered multiple injuries that no one expected him to survive from. He had a double brain concussion, a broken neck and back as well as both arms and legs were broken and most of his fingers-as well! J.L. was in a coma for eleven days. The doctors did no set the broken bones for weeks and warned the family that he might end up a vegetable if he survived. But survive he did and eventually even was able to walk again- albeit with a limp and went back to work.

            J.L. was also left with a minor speech impediment and an explosive anal unpredictable temper. Unknowingly to J.L. his wife was having an affair with Joyce’s ex-husband and his family found out. One of his sisters actually slapped Wilma around at the hospital when her new boyfriend came around. Evelyn talked to Wilma and persuaded her not to leave and go back to Michigan while J.L. was still critical. So Wilma stayed and the marriage lasted long enough for them to have a second child. J.L. found Wilma with someone else and they got divorced, J.L. never remarried.

            J.L.’s bad luck continued; he was running a service station. A customer came in and asked him ti check his oil. While J.L. was checking the oil the customer started the engine and poor J.L. lost two fingers.  His sister Audrey said J.L. had to have full surgery on his arm because of the initial injury.

            At some point J.L. went back to Michigan where his mother was living despite the fact that he could not get along with her husband B- who was his uncle anyway. J.L. managed to get a job working for General Motors. I don’t know how long he worked there before he had another fall which ended his working days all together. He did get disability and a cash settlement with which he bought a house on Nichols Street in East Knoxville.

            J.L. developed a drinking habit along the way (and no wonder) as well as other health complications which his sisters discovered. Someone told them he was bleeding from the rectum. When they went out he hemorrhaged and was soaked in blood. Over his protests they took him to UT hospital where the doctors found he had colon cancer- the same ailment that killed his mother. J.L. died July 27, 1994 at age 57.