[This is a short story. Its the longest post in my entire blog till date: about one and a half times longer than the second longest. Word Count: 3172. So I must say, if you are busy with anything, do not read this now. If you are not busy however, I can assure you that you will enjoy reading this. It is the first short story since high school (third one in total :P) that I am satisfied with. Indeed I am a bit proud of this one in fact.
Dedicated to the following words: "exaggerated, aggravated, overwhelmed and agitated" :P]
In the days of King George the Umpteenth, where the land was at peace, there was born in the quiet town of Harlingtonshire, a man of great promise. He came into the world crying, for he was destined for greatness, but was in the physical form of one who is helpless. He was named Thomas Davenport, for his parents thought that Tom was a very affectionate way to call him.
Harlingtonshire is a small town on the border between England and Wales. The people of the town are very English in every possible manner. The women have a horrible dress sense and a moderate aptitude for cooking, but they couldn't care less. They spend their days gossipping about the weather, the society, or about their husbands and their jobs. The men are quiet and hard-working, and live a simple content life. They get together every evening at the bars and the inns in town to share a moment or two over a mug of ale. Good bartenders are hard to find, so you never really found that many bars in town, though bartending was indeed a highly respectable profession, and business was always good.
The wheel had just been reinvented by Alfred Nobel, who was in the process of applying for its patent, and Hitler had just learnt how to walk, while our Tom was excelling in school. His entire class admired him, for he was both friendly as well as successful, and in today's parlance, he “totally rocked”. His grade sheet never showed a B, and if there ever was a sport his school would win, he would be a part of the team. In the arts and in the cultural acitivies, he was a crowd controller, and would consistently steal the show. Greatness was expected out of Thomas. From one and all.
Including from himself.
The years rolled by. Thomas went to Oxford to study medicine, the then great thing that great people studied. He breezed through the curriculum as if it were a walk in the park. Whenever someone would ask him what his ambition was, he'd say that he'd become a leading medical researcher and find cures for a number of diseases, possibly even win the Nobel prize. But in truth he felt even this was not good enough; that he was capable of much more.
He met a girl in college: one who admired him greatly, and who fell in love with him, and from whom he knew he wasn't receiving empty flattering attention. Her name was Faye, and she was a very forward thinker who didn't believe in gender stereotyping and was highly liberal. She supported Tom through all his troubles and encouraged him through all his ventures. After college, they got married and moved to London, where Tom began working on his cutting-edge research while Faye spent her days at home, content with her place and proud of Tom's brilliance.
It was 1914 when the first world war began. It was 1914 when Charlie Chaplin got into films. It was 1914 when Faye gave birth to a beautiful little boy, who was christened Mark. Everyone was extremely overjoyed at this occasion, be it Tom's family, Faye and her family, and even the neighbouring Davidsons. Tom however, was unfortunately too busy trying to isolate a particular drug from a wild flower, which was known to have strange medicinal value. While people enquired at Tom's absence for his son's birth, Faye was still proud of all the work he was doing, and would not let this incident diminish her love for him.
Now, the Davidsons were a very close-knit family. They loved one another more than themselves, and enjoyed all the quality time they spent with one another. The parents worked in local Government offices while the kids went to a Jesuit school. They were humble and noble, and would without a moment's hesitiation go out of their way to help anyone, be it friend or stranger. They were hard-working and simple, much like the men of Harlingtonshire, yet as a family they were as one whole. They had no extraordinary spark of talent, like Tom. They only had each other, which was all they could possibly live for.
The Davenports were extremely lucky to have the Davidsons as their neighbours, but Tom was too busy to notice such trivialities. Indeed, he looked with contempt on their idleness and lack of ambition, seeing them as just another common family, undeserving of any recognition or greatness.
And so life continued. Tom would work feverishly throughout the week on some form of healing drug or another, or else would be traveling to attend high profile international conferences, sometimes even chairing them. Faye would spend her time at home looking after Mark, or indulging in various creative activities like embroidery, art and music. Mark was ever friendly with the Davidsons and their kids, but the knowledge of having a father who was too busy to care for his only son soon started having a detrimental effect on his character. While his grades remained good, he went into a shell, and soon began indulging in various acts of deceit with care-free remorselessness. He made sure that his worst acts were never traced back to him, while the other things that happened at school were small enough to not warrant the informing of his home.
Until one day, when Mark was caught cheating for an exam. It was undoubtedly one of the most innovative means of cheating the school had ever witnessed. During the exam, Mark would smuggle out a few blank exam-sheets, pretending they were rough work and that they did not require evaluation. After the exam, he'd write the answer to one or two of the questions on those 'rough' sheets. And when the papers were distributed for moderation, he would attach these extra sheets and casually point out to the teacher that those questions had not been overlooked during evaluation.
The school decided to have him suspended. Poor Mark, being the apple of his mother's eye, could not face having to tell his mother the news. He even feared that the school would have informed his mother with various gruesome exaggerations. He decided to go to the Davidsons first for help and support.
The Davidsons, being the loving people that they were, buried their shock of finding Mark a cheat and soothed his worry. Faye was just beginning to get worried as to the whereabouts of her son when Mr Davidson called home, with Mark in tow. Hardly had had Faye enquired “Where have you been? I was so worried...” when Mark had bolted down the hall and up into his room.
“Faye,” said Mr. Davidson. “Your son has asked me to discuss something that happened in school today. Let him be in his room. I daresay he is feeling pretty low himself at the moment, and needs some time alone.”
“Alright, Henry. Please sit down. Allow me to bring you some coffee, then we can discuss... whatever needs to be discussed.”
“Yes, please, thank you.”
Faye busied herself with getting the coffee ready, but her mind was paralysed. She could not think what could have made Mark run to the neighbours' before coming home, nor could she imagine anything being so serious that Mark would have dashed into his room. To hide? To be alone? Her hands moved mechanically: turning on the stove, putting on the kettle. It must be some girl trouble, she thought to herself. Yes, he rarely shares things with me, so maybe he's had a rejection of some sort. I hope he hasn't gone and gotten someone pregnant!
“Ah, thank you, Faye!” said Mr. Davidson when she had served the coffee. “So, I believe Tom is still on one of those international conferences he is so busy with?”
“Yes. It has gotten over today. So I expect he would be back the day-after. Now, what is the matter with Mark? I am so curious right now seeing his behaviour and your ominous hints, that I can't think of anything else.”
“Hmmm... I do have some bad news regarding Mark in school. By the way, the coffee is excellent. I wish my wife could make it so well...”
“Why thank you! But do tell me. I am sitting on tenterhooks here!”
“Ah. Well, to put it succintly: Mark has been suspended from school for having cheated in an exam.”
“What! It can't be! He is not that kind of person. I don't believe it. He must have been framed or – ”
“Faye, Faye... Please calm down. Yes I understand your agitation. Mark is a good kid. He is honest. He told me the truth. It is not a case of being framed. He is extremely sorry and fears he has disappointed you, so he needed me to tell you. Consider this a mistake on his part; I am sure it will pass and he will come through in the end.”
“But... but... Mark would not need to cheat. He is so bright; his grades have been good throughout. It can't be that he has been cheating on past exams as well... We have always instilled good values in him – ”
“Yes, well... let us give credit where it is due. You have instilled good values in him. Tom has been flying too high ever since the boy's birth to have had time to look down and see his son.”
“I am sure we are all proud of Tom's achievements and stature. A man like him would not have much time for family, agreed.”
“Yes... Well, Mrs. Davenport. I must be going now. Talk to Mark a little later. You'll see there's nothing wrong with him. He might require a little counselling, but all in all, I am sure he is a fine boy. Good day!”
“Oh thank you, Henry for being there for us. If it weren't for you, I don't know what might have happened to Mark!”
“Oh, it was nothing, Faye,” and so saying, Henry Davidson made his way back home, leaving a distraught Faye at the door, feeling empty and lost.
Meanwhile, Mark was in his room with his ear to the door overhearing the entire conversation. He needed to ensure that Mr. Davidson did not exaggerate his tale of cheating, that he was cast in a good light for his mother. That was another reason for going to the Davidsons to explain his situation. He knew that they would be kind and understanding and would be a support.
Cheating was a small thing in the devious mind of Mark. He had been hanging out with the local gangs for a while and his deeds amounted to much worse than mere cheating on an exam. After burglary and rape, getting caught for cheating was quite a disappointment for him. He was already into smoking, the then cool thing, and a bit into drugs, for the feeling of being high. But he didn't drink unlike the other gang-boys. He did not want to come home drunk, atleast for his mother's sake. He didn't care about his father; after all, his father didn't care about him.
A short while later, Faye had a small talk with Mark. It was by-and-large quiet and terse, for Faye was shill in shock and Mark did not want to be very open in any case.
Two days later, Tom came home after a successful conference where he showcased his ideas on hospital sanitation to the agreement of all the medical fraternity. Seeing his son at home, when he should have been in school, his initial impulse was that Mark had fallen ill. When he found out that he had been suspended for cheating, his anger knew no bounds.
He began flogging his son ruthlessly; as a drunkard might have done. “What is wrong with you! Is this what we have brought you up for?! How could you be such a disappointment to us?!” and other curses were hurled at Mark.
“I hate you!” screamed Mark in response. “You have never been there for me. Even the neighbours are more my family than you have ever been. I don't care how disappointed you get with me. I don't care about you!”
“Here I am, trying my best to help mankind, and my own son goes astray! Get out of my face. I don't want to see you again!”
“Fine!”
This was the worst row the father and son had ever had. That night, while Tom and Faye were sleeping, Mark slipped out of the house, having decided to be a gang-member full-time. He felt no remorse at running away from home, not even at the knowledge that it would gravely hurt his mother.
The next day, when the Davenports found out what had happened, they were devastated. They called the the neighbours, but the Davidsons had not heard from Mark. They filed a missing-person case with the London police in the hope that they might be able to find Mark. Faye blamed Tom and his anger, and lost her love for him. Tom still loved his son and the loss did cut him to the heart.
Throughout this crisis, the Davidsons were always there for Faye and Tom. They especially supported Faye who would otherwise have gone into depression. As it was, she spent her nights crying with Tom trying in vain to console her. During the day, Tom buried himself in his work, in order to keep from feeling grief. It was this work-to-escape-depression that would ironically earn him the Nobel Prize in time.
For the next few months, the Davenports were in constant touch with the London police, for news of their son, but with no success. A year had passed, and the police were running out of leads and hopes were low. Six months later, the police had given up, and hoped that the son might one day just turn up and return home, or that someone might by chance recognize him from the missing-persons photos put up in their offices. The Davenports had to move on.
Years later, after the downfall of the Third Reich and the formation of the United Nations, Henry Davidson had fallen fatally ill. By that time, his children were well settled: two of them lawyers, one a doctor. They all took off from their jobs to be with their father, whose disease could not be diagnosed. His entire digestive system was deteriorating, and his apetite had hit rock bottom.
Seeing the Davidsons in such need, Tom took it on himself to try and find a cure for Henry's ailment. He took it personally as a match between his medical prowess against whatever was causing Henry's illness. Try as he might though, he could not find the cause of Henry's condition in any medical literature or in his immense ingenuity. During these days, you could not find Tom doing anything that was not related to finding Henry's cure. He hardly slept, and kept from despair till the very end.
But the end did come. On 3rd September, 1947, Mr. Henry Davidson passed away due to unknown causes. He spent his last few hours on earth with his wife and all his three children. He seemed happy, and despite the inevitable, the complete atmosphere surrounding the family was full of warmth and peace. You would see his frail body exert itself to laugh care-freely at a joke of his son, or else you would find everyone explode with raucous laughter at one of his jokes. It was the most moving sight Tom had ever witnessed. It touched him deeply, and he was forced to relive the loss of his own son all over again.
For the funeral, the Davidsons asked Thomas to give the eulogy for Henry, since he had tried so hard to save him. The entire chapel was filled with all well-wishers from all over London: people Henry had helped, clients of his children, friends of the family – they all came to show their great support for the man that Henry was. One young man in his thirties with bowed head came and sat at the foot of the coffin. He sat there throughout the service. You would sometimes see him shaking with occasional sobs, or wiping his face, but he never looked up, or made any move.
At the time of the eulogy, Thomas went up and spoke thus, “Today we have gathered to remember the man that was Henry Davidson. Who was Henry Davidson? An employee? If you're from the Government, maybe thats what he was to you. Was he a neighbour? To me, well yes, he was; but he was much more. He was a friend, one who never looked for self-benefit, one who never thought about any inconvenience he would face to help a friend. I am sure you all have experienced this self-lessness and love, whether you knew him well or was a mere acquaintance, whether you liked him or whether ... no, no one could possibly have disliked such a man. He lived with love. He lived for love. He lived within love.
“But what comes to my mind at this moment, is that Henry Davidson was a teacher to me. He taught me something that I never would have learnt from any other source. He taught me the greatness of a strong family. He showed me one truly meaningful ambition in life: to be a true family-man. He was a husband to us all... a brother to us all... a... father... to us all. My own son... admitted... I was not a good father the way he was. I was living my life searching for a great name and fame and success; I had turned away from my family, from the path of true success.
“Today, I stand here and recollect the times that Henry was a true member of our own family. At my son's birth, I was busy working while Henry was there at the hospital, as a father would. When my son got suspended from school, he went to Henry as a son would. When... when my son ran away from home, Henry would come and comfort my wife and myself... as would a brother.
“Today, his body is taken from us. Yet his spirit lives on in his family: all of us. Let us remember Henry for who he was: not a man of the family, but a man for the family.”
And so saying, Thomas went back and took his seat, with the young man at the coffin's foot following. It hardly took them a fleeting glimpse of each other's eyes for Tom to recognise the man from years ago. His son had returned: to pay homage to Henry, and to return home to his family.
[Postface. Epilogue doesn't sound good, and I've never heard of a "postface", but this is essentially the 'author's note at the end', the "pre"face with pre changed to post.
People ask me what my ambition is. I tell them, "to make a family". Mostly its people my age, so they take the 'teen' connotation of that to mean "to have sex". There is that, but thats not worth calling an 'ambition', now is it? No, my ambition is to make myself a family, like that of the Davidsons. A happy family, a loving family.]
