chapter 45

"You look like you've had a nasty shock. Is something amiss?" Mr. Armwel noted the ashen look on his companion's face.

"My money was in my inside coat pocket...but it's not there now."

"How could that be?! Let me get your breakfast..."

"No, no--" Gene pulled a coin purse from his pocket and snapped it open. I've got the thirty-five cents here, a tip, and even ten cents besides. ...I don't know how it happened. Must have been--well, I just don't know." He snapped his coin purse shut and stuck it back into his pants pocket.

"It's going to be a long trip. Do you have anything to tide you over?"

"My Aunt sent me a package of sandwiches to 'fill in the gaps' as she calls it, and I only had my traveling money in my coat pocket," he said with a dark frown. It will make things short though," he left a nickel by his coffee cup. "It could be worse."

"Well, back to the station," Mr. Armwel turned toward the station as they walked out the restaurant door into the street.

"Unrest in Europe! Read all about it!" a thin ten year old boy wearing what looked like his brother's coat wrapped around him, stood at the street corner peddling his wares. He waved the morning paper in the air, "Get your paper now! Read all about it--trouble brewing overseas!"

"I'll take one of those..." Mr. Armwel raised a hand toward the boy.

"Thank you, mister!" the boy pocketed the nickel and handed him the paper.

"Why aren't you in school?" the man spoke disapprovingly.

"I'm here for my Pa. He's sick."

Mr. Armwel made a clucking noise, shook his head and the pair continued with their progress toward the station...

"You go ahead. I'll catch up," Gene turned back.

Gene came back a few seconds later to find the older gentleman watching him with a quizzical air.

"I've been there--" Gene said with a shrug.

"But?"

"That's alright--mine's only temporary..."

"Oh, the confidence of youth..." he sighed with a slight smile. "Might as well find a seat in here. The express won't be coming in for about forty-five minutes yet..."

Charles Armwel read through the paper pointing out several articles and expanding on what the paper had written. He was quite knowledgeable about the problems in Europe.

"This is our ride coming in," Gene stood and watched as the huge black engine roared into the station. He didn't mind train rides, but he would be glad to get to his destination!

"By this time tomorrow morning we should be drawing near Broad street Station in Richmond. Just a little over twenty-four hours," Mr. Armwel stood up, watching the approaching train.

"I'll still be in the middle. Not home, but not sure where," Gene remarked.

"At your age--it should be an adventure. At one time I enjoyed adventures."

"It won't be so bad," Gene said following Mr. Armwel down the aisle between the seats. "It's just the uncertainty."

"That's what makes it an adventure, Laddie! Would you like to peruse the newspaper when I'm finished?"

"Yes, yes, I would..." Gene sat down in the seat in front of his companion. Turning sideways in his seat, he leaned against the window in order to look behind. "What do you think of this article here?" He pointed at the bold headline: "France Blames U.S. For It's..."

"Well now, read it to me. A lot of young men your age wouldn't really care," he leaned back slightly in his seat. "But they ought to--"

***************************************************

Gene sighed as he looked over the letter he was writing. The large many paned window overlooking the rugged back of the estate drew his gaze. His eyes restlessly flitted over the expansive back yard as he sat at the desk in his bedroom. This room was almost as large as the whole downstairs back home.

It had been a long two weeks since he had arrived in Richmond, Virginia. What to tell his aunt and uncle? Would it worry them to know the flighty nature of the young people in his current society? Every evening there were opportunities to attend parties. The people in this society seemed bent on running themselves into early graves. Gene did not notice that he sighed again as he pondered on what message to send.

There was a soft tap at his door. "Who is it?" he answered.

He could not quite hear the soft reply. He slid his chair back from the desk, went to the door and opened it a slight space. A vision of soft blue and gold, stood in the hall.

"It's me," Angela said. "I wanted to talk to you...privately." Her blue eyes had a troubled look.

"Sure..." Gene said stepping out into the hall beside her. "Let's go...," he hesitated looking both ways up and down the wide hallway. "There's a library this way...we should have space for a private conversation," he took her by the elbow and guided her down the hall and through a door.

"This is sure a warm winter," he said as he shut the door behind them and they crossed the room toward the window seat.

"It would be back where you're from, but it's normal for here...Oh Gene! I'm so glad you've come," she turned toward him.

"So, what's the problem?" Gene came to a sudden stop to avoid running into her.

"I...I'm not sure." she sat down on the pillowed seat carefully as the light of the large lattice window filtered softly into the library. Her long silken hair was like spun gold, her eyes sky blue. Sighing and looking out over the front lawn, where a slight skiff of snow lay melting, she played with the fringe on a pillow.

"Not sure?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Go ahead, sit down," she motioned. "I don't think it would cause a scandal if you did..."

Gene looked around at the neat orderly room full of books, a large desk, a settee with a few small tables... Close to the fireplace there were a few scattered chairs. "I'll just--," he walked over and picked up a light graceful Queen Anne style chair. Carrying it without effort, he placed it by the window. "Put this here...So, what do you need to talk about?" he sat down and leaned slightly forward in the chair and waited.

Angela thought how wonderfully strong and capable Gene was. Much more than most of the young men she had lately been exposed to. Memories of Gene sitting astride powerful, beautiful horses--even dressed in a farmer's clothing he had style--or dressed in his tuxedo for the dinner party, or just a regular suit leading singing or prayer in church services. Cherished memories of their times together before...

"I guess I am sure. This whole situation is so confusing to me! Back home I knew who I was. Now I don't know. I feel like I've been cut loose from everything, and everyone I know. I need someone I can talk to. Until you came there wasn't anyone."

"This certainly isn't like home, is it?"

"No, no, it isn't! I miss Father and Mother. I miss our home, our way of life..." her lips trembled and tears spilled down her cheeks. "I'm sorry...I didn't intend to blubber," she pulled a snow white handkerchief from a pocket in her gown and dabbed at the unbidden tears. She looked quietly out the elegant window framed by the elegant lace Austrian blinds.

"Tonight we are to attend the theater," she heaved another sigh. "Don't be concerned, I'm not going to carry on again..." she sniffled and tried to control the sob that rose into her throat.

"We all have to have time to grieve. Time to adjust to loss."

"Oh, Gene, I needed that! That is...I needed to hear that. Even if..." Angela paused slightly, "Even if William and Edna Dorking weren't my real parents, they were my real family for all of the life I remember," she quietly sobbed into the pillow.

"Go ahead--have a good cry. You'll feel better, and think clearer afterwards," he handed her his clean ample hanky.

After a bit the tears and sobs came less and less. She wiped her eyes, "You're right, I did need that. How do men do it? They don't ever cry, but they still go on strong as ever! I don't believe I'll think any clearer though. There isn't anything to think."

"That's not true."

"What?"

"I've seen several men cry. Men do cry."

"I thought they always have to be strong."

"Men can laugh, why couldn't they cry? Tears don't show weakness. Men just cry about different things--and in different ways."

"Oh--I see. You never cry--"

"Of course I have...my father used to say he thought I'd never stop wanting my midnight feeding when I was a baby!"

"You--!"

He laughed as he reached out and grabbed the pillow she threw at him. "Now, now! Be careful--we don't want to break that graceful vase of flowers!" he tilted his head up and mimicked some of his English speaking friends.

"You know what I mean. You are always so invincible."

"No one, Angela, is ever invincible. Everyone has at least one weakness."

"I don't believe you. What is your weakness?" she sat back studying him.

"Well, really, I am pretty close to perfect," he laughed again and tossed the pillow back at her.

"No, really, what is your weakness?"

"Ah, ha! Delilah, for what purpose do you ask?"

"Oh, Gene! You are so perplexing!"

"We came here to talk about your problem, remember? Not about me--or even men in general," he said.

"That is so."

"A few weeks ago I had an unusual visitor at the farm. I was just finished with chores, and just before I finished preparing breakfast there was a knock on the door."

"Oh, were your Aunt and Uncle not there?"

"No, they had gone on a visit to Uncle Jed's step-mother. Just a short visit--and I was taking care of the farm...."

"That's so impressive. The young men here--many of them have quite an allowance--but they aren't trained in any area of life. None of them could do what you have done--but I'm sorry--who was your visitor?"

"It was Mr. Dorking. I'm not at liberty to disclose our conversation, but...have you had any word from them? Do you know how they are doing?"

"No, I have heard nothing," she sighed again and shook her head.

They both looked out the lattice window. The sunshine was playing peek-a-boo with the clouds. It was a peaceful scene that did not solace either party as they watched the shadows flit across the lawn.

"I will speak to Mr. Henrey..." Gene could not betray the message he had passed on, yet he was torn between loyalty to all three people. "If I hear any more from the Dorkings, I will pass it on through him. You may have to wait until you turn eighteen...I think legal age is eighteen," his thoughts wandered in all directions. "David and Bessie have moved as well."

"They have?! I feel like all are abandoning me!"

"Well, I'm here for a short time at least, and I'll keep you in touch as much as I can. I have their address, and I can see no reason why you wouldn't be allowed to correspond...maybe even visit them. They are living in Tennessee, so they aren't as far away as they were."

Angela's features went from drained, ashen white to rosy and full of hope. "Oh, do see if it will be possible! "I think I've missed them almost as much as Father and Mother! Are you going to the theater tonight?"

"No, I have a job interview in the morning, and I have other plans for tomorrow. I need to get a good night's sleep."

"I wish I didn't have to go either," she began to pull at the tassels on the fringe.

"Then why go?"

"I'm expected to go."

"Are you so sure? Walter doesn't enjoy attending these things either. At least so he says."

"So, he's going because...?"

"So he says."

"How queer! Both of us going because we think the other wants to go!" her laughter rang out. "Thank you," she said with a glimmer of her old playfulness. "Gene, I need prayers. No one around here is very religious. They only go to church because it's a status symbol."

"Many folks are like that. Maybe not the status symbol, but people go for different reasons--but going to church even for the wrong reason, is better than not going at all."

"Aren't they being hypocritical? That doesn't do any one any good...does it?"

"I asked David's step father that question once. His answer was that just like a little bit of salt will help flavor a piece of food, as long as they are hearing the word of God...God's principles will flavor their life, and in turn flavor our society. Once they totally turn from listening to God's principles...we're in for a bad time. That's what Alistair said...and I see what he's saying."

"I can see that," Angela hugged the pillow to herself as she contemplated on the thought. "I'll have to think on it, but it makes sense."

"We could have Bible study here on Sunday afternoons. I don't know that anyone except you and I would be interested, but that would be alright I guess," he said with a shrug.

"I think I would enjoy that."

"We'll plan on it then. I think I'll put this chair back now. Do you need to talk to Walter?" he lifted the chair again and easily put it back in its original spot.

"About Sunday?" she stood up and put the pillow in its place.

"No, about the theater."

"Yes, it's time to change streams, I think."

****************************************************
"Oh, Franklin, you are so-so clever!" Cathy snickered.

"Of course I am," he smiled agreeably.

"I think it's mean..."

"Oh, Trudy, lighten up! It's just a joke!" her twin sister chided.

"I still think it's mean. I don't think it will come to anything good! I warn you," Trudy pointed at her sister, Judy, "I warn you, nothing good will come of it."

"You can count me in," Cathy volunteered.

"Me too," Judy said.

"What about you, Jim? Jerry?" Franklin DeFoe asked.

"No, I have other things to do--" Jim declined the offer.

"I'm not interested. Sounds dry as dead leaves to me..." Jerry said.

"Besides," Jim waggled the ice in his glass..."We all know that Cathy is just miffed."

"Miffed?!" Cathy's green eyes blazed open wide. "What on earth do you mean?"

"You've been trying to get this new fellow to fall for your charms, and he's not taking the bait." Jim Wiggins laughed and took a drink.

"That greenie? I should say not! Why I could have had him wrapped around my finger..." her face flamed as the group laughed. "I could have!" she insisted.

"How about a wager?" Jerry Shore asked with a cunning look.

"Ladies don't wager," Cathy answered coolly.

"Okay...challenge then," he said smooth as velvet.

"I may be interested," she smiled.

"Cathy, you remind me of mother's Persian cat...except you're much prettier," Jim said as he admired her soft flawless features.

"Prettier, but more dangerous," Franklin added under his breath. "So, I'll let Walter know that I'll be there, as well as Judy and Cathy."