Heirlooms

© 2012 Nick Lekatis. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 6/27/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4772-1627-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-1625-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-1626-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012910042

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and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

The Pendant

The Bracelet

The Ring

The Necklace

The Pocket watch

The Silver Earring

The Music Box

The Amulet

The Tie Clip

The Grandfather Clock

The Locket

The Mirror

The Anklets

The Crucifix

The Paper Weight

About the Author

The Pendant

He walked with slow and measured steps, crossed the manicured lawn and flowerbeds surrounding the family estate, and headed toward the forest that had beckoned him again as it had so many times in the past. He was a tall, youngish man, but because of the increasing darkness those were the only discernible features a casual onlooker would detect in him. When he reached the edge of the forest and advanced forward, he lowered his head and kept his gaze on the ground before him. If one were able to look into his brown eyes, he would detect that they were carefully scrutinizing every step he was now taking and would conclude, perhaps, that his foray into those woods was done with some purpose in mind. The way he walked would further indicate that he knew the direction he was taking and the destination toward which he was heading. His observer would not be able to discern, however, that he was searching for something important, something elusive yet attainable, with the same tenacity that shadows exhibit when they search for sunlight so that they might be awakened by it.

Once deeper inside the forest, his steps became more deliberate as he ventured into the darkness before him. He kept his head lowered, and his eyes did not leave the ground as he continued on an invisible trail, one that only he could detect if not altogether see. He was not searching the ground for that expensive ring he had lost there many years ago, nor for that treasured pocket knife his father had given him on his fifteenth birthday which he had also misplaced long ago. No, this time he was looking for something much more insubstantial than his former possessions, something as evanescent as the swirls of fog encircling his frame as he continued on his slow but steady pace. He was searching for the truth about several things, but mostly about himself. He was looking for the destiny in him. But he was probably still much too young to suspect that for people with a destiny things don’t always turn out well.

Earlier, as he sat alone and had his dinner before setting out on his journey, the brief twilight was quickly replaced by darkness on that October 24th, an otherwise ordinary Saturday for most people but for Adrian Hathaway a special one. Today was his birthday, admittedly not a momentous occasion by anyone’s standards but for him a date he had been waiting for—and somewhat dreaded. Today, as he began his twenty-fifth year of life, he would learn what the fates had in store for him; Aunt Cassie would reveal it to him on this very evening, as she had promised she would. So shortly after dinner, he set out. He did not bring along a flashlight to help him find his way through those dark woods. He would not need it; he had made the journey many times before, beginning with his seventh birthday when his mother first guided him on a trail only she could recognize even during the darkest nights. Since her death eight years later, he had made that same journey every year on his birthday; now, he was making it again.

Suddenly, he stopped and remained still for two to three seconds. He thought he had heard a noise coming from behind him and wondered, not without a small dose of apprehension, who might be following him in the forest at that hour. But when he turned and looked back, he saw that it was only Lukas, his ten-year-old Lhasa Apso, who apparently had decided to follow him on that night. Lukas was a bow-legged, rheumy-eyed old dog, whose nose nearly always touched the ground and whose large ears looked like some spare parts he had not ordered but was forced to dangle from his head and scrape the dirt with them whenever he walked. He followed his master sometimes, but did so more out of boredom than out of any genuine canine attachment to his caregiver.

Pet and master resumed their journey and advanced further into the forest. Even though there was a half moon out that night, its pale rays barely penetrated the treetops above them and the two were forced to walk surrounded by near-total darkness, as whiffs of ground fog gathered around and enveloped them in a chilly and eerie cloak.

Some two hundred yards beyond, the forest gave way to a large clearing. The terrain there was uneven and spotted with several knolls covered with autumn grasses shimmering in the sparse moonlight. And except for some droplets of condensed fog falling from the trees behind them, the two could hear no other sounds, as Adrian stood there and momentarily looked over the entire scenery, with Lukas squatting next to him, unamused by that nocturnal escapade. He then began heading toward the far right knoll and into more forest beyond. When he noticed that Lukas had remained on his spot, he said to him, Well, do you want to go to Aunt Cassie’s or not? Lukas, reluctantly, stood up and began following him again; slowly at first, but then at a more quickened pace. He too had made that journey several times before, and he probably remembered now how that old woman who lived in the forest always had some tasty treats for him every time they visited her.

As much as Adrian knew, Cassandra was no one’s aunt. When she was ten years old, she was an orphan in Eastern Europe on whom his grandfather Jonathan Hathaway had taken pity and brought to America. He and Grandma Martha had no children of their own at the time and welcomed her in their home. Several months later, the adoption papers were completed and she became Cassandra Hathaway, but everyone called her Cassie ever since. She soon embraced her new family, became totally devoted to them both, and two years later, when Adrian’s father, Elton, was born, she instantly took to the little one and became equally devoted to him. Cassie was a precocious child and grew up to be a most talented young woman. She received a first-class education, earned a Doctorate in Philosophy, taught classes for over twenty years and was credited with scores of praise-worthy articles. She never married, and remained in the family, taking care of her aging parents and being a good sister to Elton. Many years later, she became a dear friend to Joanna, Elton’s wife, and then a loving aunt to Adrian. When Adrian was two years old, he had a near-fatal accident. He wandered down the upstairs hallway chasing a little kitten the family had brought home a few days earlier, and as he ran, he tripped and began falling down the stairs. Cassie, who had been alerted by the loud noises he was making, ran to him, lunged down the staircase and managed to catch the toddler after he had tumbled down three steps. She grabbed him, turned around and handed him to a maid who had also approached. But she must have sprained an ankle or something during her own fall, because no sooner than Adrian was safe in the maid’s arms than her steps faltered and she fell down the entire staircase, severely injuring her hip and breaking one leg. She was never to recover fully from that fall. As much as she tried, she was unable to negotiate the stairs without help. When Adrian’s grandparents died several years later, she learned that in addition to having left her a considerable fortune they had also bequeathed to her the family’s hunting lodge in the forest, and when the family’s period of mourning ended, she decided to move there. Her decision to move out of the house was received with strong protests from Adrian’s parents. Adrian’s mother, especially, was nearly devastated at the thought of living apart from her. But Cassie was adamant about her decision. She was useless to them in that big house, she reminded Joanna, and both knew that it had been her wish for years to spend her retirement in solitude. Joanna finally relented, helped her move into the lodge, and made sure that all her needs were taken care of after that. She also visited her as often as she could and for as long as she lived.

That was all Adrian knew about her. Besides feeling immensely grateful to her for having saved his life in that accident he no longer remembered, he loved her a great deal and liked her a lot besides, because of her kindness, good nature and somewhat exotic ways. Aunt Cassie was different from any other person he had met during his young life, and each time he visited her, she would reveal new and exciting things to him. Now, he looked forward to seeing her again and was also a little anxious to hear what she would tell him on this, his special day.

The hunting lodge was located near the other edge of the forest. A long gravel driveway wound its way through the pine trees and connected with the main road encircling that entire hill; so there was an easier access to it than the nearly invisible trail Adrian had taken to get there; but on this evening, tradition dictated that he should make the journey on foot and through the forest, just as his mother had done.

The lodge was more like a country house than a hunting outpost. It had a great room with an open-beam ceiling and a stone fireplace, two spacious bedrooms on one side and a garage and utility room on the other. The wrap-around porch was wide and under roof, and its columns were covered with honeysuckle and jasmine. The various flowers on the pots between those columns and elsewhere around the entire porch looked like they were tended to with much love and care. And the Chinese lanterns hanging between the posts and casting a soft yellow light completed a picture of serenity and rustic beauty.

He saw her as soon as he and Lukas stepped out of the woods and began walking on the clearing. A silhouette at first, sitting there on a high-back cane chair, shimmering in the pale light of the lanterns swinging lightly in the night breeze. As he got closer, he could see her more clearly: her white hair beautifully combed, her shawl meticulously arranged over her shoulders, her full-length gown touching the porch floor. She was holding a tea cup on her right hand and the saucer on the other. On the other side of the small table next to her there was another chair with her silky Persian cat sleeping peacefully on it. Cassie’s eyes remained on the forest before her, but because of the darkness in the clearing she did not notice him until he had nearly reached the small steps leading up to the porch. She then immediately set her cup and saucer on the table and straightened her shawl. But before she had time to say anything to him, he smiled at her and said, Good evening, Aunt Cassie!

Adrian my boy! I have been waiting for you. Come; let me give you a birthday hug, she said with a wide smile as she opened her arms to him.

Adrian stepped up and hugged her while she was still seated. For his part, Lukas walked around them and ended next to the other chair, where he lifted his head and took a good sniff of the cat. She stirred, looked at him without sitting up and gave him a short hiss. Matilda, is that any way to greet our special guests? Simmer down now and get out of that chair so Adrian can sit there, said Cassie when Adrian disengaged from her short but warm embrace. When Matilda refused to get off the chair, she stood up slowly, walked around the table and picked her up. She then turned to Adrian and said, Sit down, dear. I’ll go get us some warm tea and we’ll talk for a while before we go inside for the more serious part of our meeting. Still holding the cat under her left arm, she picked up the cup and saucer with her right hand and then turned to Lukas. Come on, old man, I have a special treat for you in the kitchen. With that, she began walking slowly toward the screen door to the great room. Lukas followed her with lively anticipation.

Cassandra was a tall lady, stout but not matronly, and walked with grace in spite of her arthritis. The full-length gown she was wearing made her look even taller than she was. Her white hair and wrinkled face showed her years, and the dust of time on her eyes pointed to a melancholy only those of advanced age display at times. But her warmth and grace, coupled with her dignified presence, concealed whatever innermost thoughts or concerns she had. As well, she was a strong-willed lady with much courage and insisted on some mobility, and so with the passing years she had learned to live with her old disability and now did not use her cane as much as she had in the past. And she kept herself busy at all times, witness the care she was taking of all those flower pots and several ferns she had planted on the ground around the entire patio. She was sorry the forest soil in the clearing was not suitable for any gardening projects, else she would be out there tilling and fertilizing and planting all sorts of wonderful things. In Adrian’s view, she was a remarkable woman.

Here we are. Let’s have some tea and talk of other things for a while before we go inside and join Lukas and Matilda, she said with a smile when she returned and placed two cups on the small table.

Adrian humored her and began sipping his tea. Although he was anxious to learn what new revelations she had in store for him on that evening, he was patient. Aunt Cassie would talk to him of those things when she was ready. So he began the conversation by commenting, I marvel at the beauty of this place. It’s as enchanting at night, if not more so, as it is during the day.

That’s exactly how I felt the first time I visited here, she remarked.

When was that?

She looked up and began reminiscing, somewhat whimsically, I must have been around thirteen years old at the time. I had been living with your grandparents for nearly three years and was still kind of shy. But I had heard of the lodge and was curious to see what it was like. Your grandfather had it built when he was a little older than you are now; he proposed to your grandmother here, inside the great room. Later, he used it as a getaway from his busy life of high finances, deals and mergers. He would invite three or four friends to spend many a weekend here, hunting in the woods during the day and then spending the evenings playing cards, drinking and smoking imported cigars. He was very active in everything he did. But he always insisted on comfort and convenience, so he would have our butler deliver food from the house so he and his friends could have civilized dinners, as he used to call them. And then, he would set up the roll-away beds for his guests so everyone could get a good night’s rest, isn’t that marvelous! Anyway, my curiosity finally won me over and I followed the group one Friday evening as they walked across the forest and came here. No one saw me, and I returned home shortly afterwards. But I was instantly enchanted with the place. And on the following day, instead of having the butler deliver the food, I had him bring here all the ingredients I would need and I spent the entire day cooking for your grandfather and his friends. When they returned from their hunting outing, they were all surprised, especially your grandfather. I was afraid he might scold me for what I had done, but he didn’t; he was quite taken with my initiative. And after that, it became a sort of ritual. Sometimes your grandmother would come and join us for those dinners I prepared, and I was happy making them. And, of course, I’ve been very happy living here all these years.

Adrian looked at her with much admiration, and commented, That’s a great story, Aunt. Did my mother like it as much as you did?

Oh yes! She and I became fast friends when she married your father, and when I first brought her here, she instantly loved it as much as I had. By then, your grandfather had given up his hunting parties but continued to maintain the place in pristine condition at all times. Your mother and I would come often and spend many hours here. She had many fond memories of the place.

She then stopped her ruminations and changed subject. What is the latest news about your father? Sebastian told me the other day that he is making remarkable progress.

Yes, he is, and we are all very pleased about it. His periods of lucidity have become longer, and that’s a good sign. He still slips into incoherence at times, but manages to recover more quickly than before. Dr. Newman is guardedly optimistic about a full recovery. Six months is more than enough for him to suffer, don’t you think?

Yes, I do. But your father is a strong-willed person; he is not going to let a stroke hamper his energy, physical or mental. I know my brother Elton quite well. He will be his active self again, and soon.

I am not so sure about that, Aunt. Lately, he has slowed down considerably. Even before the stroke, he showed signs of some weakness only he could feel or comprehend. The rest of us never suspected anything, but I think he was somehow prescient about his condition and what awaited him.

You may be right about that. And I’ll tell you why I think so. Last year, he named you his successor as president of Hathaway Financial in case anything happened to him. Now that was unprecedented. Your relative youth and inexperience in running such a big company could have prevented him from making that move; they did not. But you have proved yourself quite worthy of his trust, as I was always certain you would.

They remained silent after that exchange, holding their tea cups and staring at the dark clearing before them. Cassie then sipped the last of her tea and remained silent for a few more seconds. Then, she stood up, walked over to the railing and began looking at the sky. When Adrian joined her, she said to him, Look at all those stars, Adrian. They have been there for millions of years and will still be there eons from now. They are virtually eternal. And yet, it is because of us that their eternity is defined and appreciated. We have but a small moment of life; but during that short span of ours, we are able to look at them and reflect on their eternity which would be meaningless without us. In that respect, we are unique in a way that they could never be. We can conceive things; non-sentient things cannot. Therein lies our uniqueness—and our angst, as we see ourselves as only temporary and minuscule observers of the cosmos that surrounds us.

Adrian gazed at the firmament above them and looked at those eternal stars, all the while still marveling at his aunt. She had the uncanny ability to talk casually about personal experiences, reminisce about ordinary things with flair and warmth, and shortly thereafter launch into a philosophical discussion and make it sound poetic. Aunt Cassie was of course anything but ordinary.

They stood there by the railing and stared in silence for a while longer. No words were necessary; she had conveyed her message to him, one that invited silence and reflection from both. Finally, she turned to him and said, Well now, what do you say we go inside and talk of other things?

A little while later, they were both sitting by the dining table in the kitchen area of the great room. Lukas was taking a nap and Matilda was nowhere to be seen. A small radio on the fireplace mantle played some Mozart piano concerto, very softly. And Adrian was looking at his aunt, a visible anticipation on his face.

Let’s have a look at your hands now, she said to him as she stretched both hands across the table. He complied in silence and slid his hands to her, palms up. She pulled them closer and began staring at them, touching them, caressing them, while directing her gaze at every line on those palms, her fingers tracing each with increased concentration. Then, without looking up, she began speaking softly, as if in a trance. You have come to the point in your life where you are a complete man. Twenty-five is the age when this happens, according to some old wisdom, and today you have reached it. Soon, very soon now, you will come upon some momentous revelations that will test your character. How you deal with them, and how you comport yourself after you receive the knowledge they will convey to you will be of great significance, because you will have to decide whether they represent an ominous crossroads in your life or an inviting call of your destiny. And no, I am not a fortune teller, so I cannot forecast your future; that is all yours for the making. But your strong character and your right upbringing will guide you, I hope, in the journey you are about to make. So take heart, Adrian, and continue being the good person you have always been. And just as you must have the courage to deal with your father’s illness, so must you be prepared to face the challenges ahead of you. They will come very soon now, of that you can be certain. That is all I see here, dear.

Thank you, Aunt Cassie; thank you for everything, he said when she removed her hands from his. He was a little confused by what she had said and did not know what to make of those revelations he would soon be receiving; Cassie’s palm reading was at best cryptic and certainly not what he had expected. Now, he put both hands between his legs and remained silent.

Lukas must have finished with his nap because he began circling him, a signal that he was bored and was now ready to head for home. Adrian said to him, by way of addressing his aunt, All right, Lukas; we’ll be leaving in a few.

Not before I give you your birthday present! Said Cassie as she reached under the table and pulled up a cardboard box resting on an empty chair next to her. She set it on the table, opened it and extracted a small woolen cap. Its perimeter was rolled up some, the top had an embroidered star made of a yellow thread, and a gold medallion the size of a silver dollar was fastened on the right side. It was a baby’s cap, and quite a unique one. The medallion had an engraved relief of a lady leaning against a stool and wearing a long robe reminiscent of what a Classical Greek or Roman lady might have worn, her golden hair was wrapped in a bun on the back of her head, and her hands were holding a double flute to her mouth. This is the cap you wore when were a baby, she told him as she showed it to him, and added, The medallion was given to your mother by your father during the days when you were being conceived, and she decided that it belonged to you; so she fastened it on your cap. She then handed it to him. I want you to have it; your mother made me promise to give it to you when you grew up. There is not much you can do with it now; you can’t wear it, that’s for sure! But keep it as a memento of your forgotten babyhood. As for the medallion, you might want to take it to a jeweler and get an appropriate chain for it, and I hope you will wear it in her honor. You can tuck it under your shirt if you think it’s too gaudy!

Thank you again, Aunt Cassie, for all the love you have given me and my mother. And yes, I will wear it, in honor of both of you, he said as he took the proffered cap and placed it back in the box.

This, by the way, is the first of those revelations you are about to receive. That is all I can tell you at this time.

Adrian was distracted during his return journey; so distracted, in fact, he nearly lost his way at some point. It was Lukas, who for once was walking ahead of him, that showed him the right trail to follow. Wisps of fog, like some spectral emanations from an eerie, undefined realm, were all around them. But he walked past them and through them with a steady pace and without any hesitation or fear. He had walked in the forest before, when it was much darker and foggier than it was on that evening. Besides, he was now a complete man, as Aunt Cassie had reminded him, and so acted accordingly. As for Lukas, with his nose nearly touching the ground and his ears scraping pine needles along the way, he kept lumbering through the forest totally oblivious of the scenery around them. He didn’t even look back to see whether his master was following him. He didn’t have to; he could hear Adrian’s footsteps a few feet behind him, so he kept on his slow march toward home and the full bowl of food he would hopefully find there.

They crossed the clearing in the forest without stopping and some time later arrived at the Hathaway mansion. When they stepped onto the back lawn of the property, Adrian could see that more lights had been turned on inside and the place looked resplendent against the night sky. Mr. Sebastian must have returned, he told Lukas as they both headed for the back patio and the French doors to the house. The entire staff had Saturdays and Sundays off; they would now be at their homes with their families. But Sebastian, their Chief of Staff, as Adrian’s father affectionately called him, would be here; this was his home for over twenty-seven years, and Adrian and his father the only family he had.

They both entered into the study and he walked up to his desk, placed the box he was carrying on it and sat down. With both elbows resting on the calendar pad and his face between the palms of his hands, he remained deep in thought. As for Lukas, he walked out of the half-open door to the hallway and headed toward the kitchen for some late night treats.

A short while later, he heard footsteps on the hallway and then saw Sebastian sticking his head through the now-open door. Good evening, Adrian! Lukas announced your return when he came begging for some dinner. I’ve made some tea. Would you like some?

Yes, please. And bring a cup for yourself as well, would you?

You have a deal. I will return shortly, Sebastian said with a smile and then turned and headed toward the kitchen.

Adrian forced himself to snap out of his brooding reverie. He straightened himself up from his slouching position, opened the cardboard box and pulled out the woolen cap. He then kept staring at it, especially at the medallion, until he saw Sebastian coming in carrying a tray with the tea set.

Here, place the tray on the desk and pull up a chair, he said to him with a smile.

Sebastian approached the desk, and as he was resting the tray on it, saw the cap which was still in Adrian’s hands and gave it a short but most puzzling look. He then averted his eyes from it, pulled a chair next to the desk, sat down and calmly began pouring the tea. But Adrian, who had caught his brief reaction to the cap, wasn’t about to let that pass without a little probing. So on a whim, he extended his hands toward him, inviting him thus to take a closer look. He did, and then inquired, casually, A birthday present? Did Cassie give it to you?

Yes to both questions. This was my baby cap. And the medallion belonged to my mother; Aunt Cassie informed me so. But you seem to recognize it. Have you seen it before?

Sebastian remained quiet for a second or two and then reached for his tea cup. I saw you wearing it, a long, long time ago. So yes, I’ve seen it before, he said to him without looking up.

I see, commented Adrian as he sensed that the mood in that impromptu tea party had changed dramatically. So he quickly changed subject and inquired, Have you tended to my father?

Of course. As soon as I returned, about an hour ago. I took some tea up to him and helped him with his evening medication. He is now sleeping quite peacefully.

Adrian nodded his head, his way of conveying his thanks to him for the continuing care Sebastian provided to his father, to the entire Hathaway household at that. Sebastian was truly the family’s chief of staff for as long as anyone could remember. He made certain that all the staff were performing their assigned duties, took care of the weekly menu, coordinated his father’s business schedules, and was now of immense help to him in managing his family’s legacy. In short, he did everything for the Hathaways, especially for Adrian’s father for whom he had a special affection. But young Adrian Hathaway wondered now, albeit momentarily, why their loving and trusted friend had become slightly disconcerted at the sight of his baby cap.

He was awakened at daybreak by some scratching on the side of his bed. He knew that sound quite well; his dog was making it. Lukas, apparently, had been following some primal canine directives that dictated that he should be near his master at all times—well, most of the time, but especially during the night hours. So he always slept in Adrian’s room. Sometimes he would beg to be lifted up to the bed and sleep next to him, but usually would lie down next to the bed stand and sleep there all night quite comfortably. But come daybreak, he would begin scratching the carpet around his spot and then proceed with more persistent scratching on the side of the bed, a not-too-subtle signal to his master that he was ready for his early morning walk and toilet duties. And so it was on that Sunday morning and, as always, produced the desired results. Adrian got up and, still a little groggy, walked to the bathroom for a quick wash and then got dressed in his Sunday casuals. When he reached to the dresser to pick up his wristwatch, he saw the box with the cap where he had left it before retiring. He opened it, carefully unclasped the medallion from it, and placed it in the crystal ashtray in which he kept his watch and his keys. He would make it a point to visit a jeweler soon and have him make a pendant out of it. He then turned to Lukas who was now more than ready to go downstairs and out the door.

After Lukas finished christening two azalea bushes next to the house, he followed Adrian back inside and they both made it to the kitchen where Sebastian was busy making French toast. Good morning, Adrian. There is fresh coffee and some warm croissants; help yourself. I’ll have your father’s breakfast ready in a minute.

Thank you, Mr. Sebastian, said Adrian as he poured himself some coffee and then reached into the warmer and pulled out a croissant which he proceeded to share with Lukas.

A few minutes later, the tray with his father’s breakfast was ready with two pieces of French toast, a cup of hot chocolate and a glass of water next to a small cup holding his morning medication. I’ll take that up to him, Mr. Sebastian, said Adrian as he got up, picked up the tray and walked out of the kitchen. He didn’t expect to have Lukas follow him; not with all that pleasant aroma permeating the kitchen and with Sebastian regaling him with a morsel or two of the French toast he had made for himself.

Is that you, Sebastian? His father asked when Adrian opened the bedroom door and stepped into the room. Elton Hathaway was looking the other way at the time and hadn’t seen him come in.

No, Father, it is I; I brought you your breakfast.

Where is Sebastian? I told him last evening to have my dark blue suit ready for me this morning. I have to be at the Foundation early today. There are several important matters I have to attend to.

Adrian approached the bed and looked at him with much sadness in his eyes. His father, who had been his friend and guardian for as long as he could remember, was now living in the twilight world of the semi-senile in spite of the hopeful signs Dr. Newman had reported recently. And all Adrian could do is watch and feel pain for him. Father, today is Sunday and the office there is closed. Here, please sit up and I’ll put the tray down on the bed so you can have your breakfast, he said to him softly.

Elton Hathaway sat up on the bed, looked at him and then rubbed his face with both hands. Adrian, what is happening to me? What has become of me, Son? He asked with some tears forming in his eyes.

Patience, and courage, Father. That is what you’ve taught me to have. Tomorrow, when Dr. Newman comes for his weekly visit, he’ll tell us more. For now, please, persevere and try to keep a clear mind.

I’ll try, Adrian, I will certainly try. But it is getting most difficult for me to focus of late. You and Sebastian must be having a terrible time putting up with me.

Nonsense, Father; we are doing just fine. Here now, please try the French toast, it smells delicious, he said as he leaned over the tray, encouraging him to eat a little.

Elton took a small sip of his hot chocolate, looked at the toast but didn’t touch it, and then stared at him without uttering a word.

The remainder of that morning’s meeting between father and son proceeded in near-silence from both. Elton did manage to eat one slice of the French toast, finished his hot chocolate, and took his morning medication without resistance. But his eyes and overall demeanor remained in that same state of confusion. When he was finished, Adrian lifted the tray and said to him, If you feel up to it, we can take a walk outside later on.

All right, Adrian; I will get up soon, dress and come down to join you.

A little while later, Adrian was sitting at a table in the back porch, a fresh cup of coffee in his hand, his eyes gazing vacuously at the flowerbeds below him and with his thoughts troubled. Lukas came up to him quietly, and after his nose verified to him that there were no tasty morsels on the table, lay next to him, and in an unusual show of affection rested his chin on his left shoe. Or perhaps it was empathy on the part of the sometimes-loyal quadruped for his master’s pain and grief. And Adrian’s sorrow over his father’s feeble condition was indeed palpable. He didn’t just love and respect him, he idolized him. Elton Hathaway had been not only his loving father but also his mentor, his friend, his unerring compass since he had been a toddler. He taught him the value of self-discipline, restraint and an unceasing focus on what is important in one’s life. And did all that by example rather than by lecturing or preaching to the young and at times unruly youngster. Adrian’s mother, and even Sebastian, would often scold him and at times even punish him for some mischief he had committed, but his father, never. Instead, he would take his hand and the two would take long walks in the forest, sit on some tree stumps there, and carry on long conversations. He would answer young Adrian’s questions clearly and simply, and was always ready to admit that he did not have an adequate answer to some of his more puzzling questions. He was a remarkable man. When Adrian’s mother died at the onset of his adolescent years and the onslaught of his hormonal agitations, it was his father who took it upon himself to help him cope with her loss as well as to deal with his awakenings into early manhood. He would talk to him about the need to accept losses, as well as gains, during his journey through life, and would again stress the value of self-restraint and personal responsibility. And Adrian would listen, absorb his guidance and counsel, and comply. There were a few occasions when he would silently question some of his father’s advice and would wish he could rebel against some of the more dire directives his mentor would express so persuasively but with which young Adrian would disagree, especially during his more turbulent adolescent years. But those were rare Erasmian moments of doubt rather than any serious attempts at mounting a real protest against the established order under which the entire Hathaway household lived and operated. And now that the elder Hathaway was incapacitated, and perhaps permanently damaged, Adrian felt more alone than ever before.

On Monday morning, he began his work week. After a short visit to his father, he drove to the Hathaway Building and approached the elevator banks. When he entered the first one that reached him, he nearly bumped into a cart full of mail. A young guy next to it pulled it quickly out of his way, and somewhat embarrassed, said, Sorry sir.

Don’t worry about it, he said, and added, Would you please press the button for the top floor?

It’s already lit, sir; that’s the floor I am heading, too.

The mail-room boy was a presentable young guy, twenty, twenty-one years old; kind of shy, but very polite. As the elevator headed toward the upper floors, Adrian took another look at him, and said, You’re new at this job, aren’t you?

Yes sir; this is my first day here.

Then it would be much too early to ask how you like it so far, commented Adrian with a smile.

I like it fine, sir. It’s a job; not a glamorous one, but a job that pays my college tuition.

What are you studying?

I’m working toward a degree in electrical engineering. It will take me some time to get it; I can only attend night school, since I have to work during the day. But I’ll manage, in time.

Very commendable of you. I wish you all the luck in the world, said Adrian admiringly, as the elevator door opened and both exited.

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