This is a work of fiction. It is a sequel to the other stories, beginning with "A Letter from America" that have appeared in adult/youth, young pals, and no sex. Not one single character is , or is based on, a real person. I have borrowed the names of places, and even of some buildings and institutions in those places, but their personnel remain fictitious. They do not represent real people. Not all characters were created by me. There are some that were created by another author -- Jacob Lion. I am grateful to Jacob for permission to use his characters. I hope you enjoy this story. I'm grateful to Nifty for publishing it. Nifty makes no charge, neither for me to publish, nor for you to read these stories, but it does cost money to publish them. If you enjoy the stories, please consider making a donation to Nifty at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html so that he can continue to bring these stories to you.
Howard Chapter 4
Simon brought in a cup of tea in the morning.
"They look so peaceful," he said.
I sat up and looked behind me. The dog lay on the pilow with one of Luke's arms over him. They must have been like that most of the night. About twice in the night I noticed Luke's body touching mine but, for the most part, we had slept independantly of each other.
"Are you going into work today?" he qeried, handing the mug to me.
"I am, but it's only a check up with Derek on what work's outstanding on the Christmas stuff. I'll be back before you're out of school."
"I've got a key," he remarked. "I was just checking you're keeping yourself occupied. I know how easy it is for old people to lose motivation."
"You mean you know how difficult it is to throw a pillow whilst holding a cup of tea," I returned. "Don't you worry my friend - your time will come."
"Breakfast in ten," he said and beat a retreat.
I took a sip of tea.
"Did you get that Howard?" I said loudly. "Ten minutes to breakfast. Either you or Luke should be in the shower by now. CAREFUL Luke!"
This last as his eruption into life caused me to spill tea on the duvet.
"Yap!"
No, that wasn't Luke. It was the little creature that accompanied him to the bathroom.
The cup of tea ensured that all the boys were showered and down to breakfast before I was. Yes, Peter beat me down to breakfast. Who'd have thunk it? And on a school day too.
"Peter, can you move Howard's basket and blanket to your room?"
"Why our room?"
"Because that's the only place we can shut him in while nobody's here," I replied.
"Your room and the bathroom have latches on the doors."
"I have work stuff in my room," I replied. "I can't risk him trashing that. Besides, isn't he your dog?"
"I thought he was Luke's dog" said Simon, "and Luke sleeps in your room."
I can't stand clever kids.
"We're not having this conversation," I said finally. "Peter, move that basket please."
"Hmmmph!, Better move hs crap-box too," muttered Simon, getting up to suit the action to the words.
"SIMON!"
"What" He cried, "It IS a crap-box."
"It's a litter tray, as you know very well," I replied. "and I'm very disappointed that you should choose to say otherwise."
His expression went from anger to something much more dangerous, His countenance gradually went from black to purple. Then he muttered,
"Sorry!" and clumped up the stairs with his brother in his wake.
And breathe!
That was not good start to the day. With the boys packed off to school I finally shut an indignant puppy in the boys' room with food and water. I did NOT have a spring in my step as I set out to catch the train to Watford.
"What's your workload like Jonah?" asked Derek as I took a seat in his office.
"Apart from Philips-Murchison you only left me with two contracts," I replied. "Turner Enterprises, which is ready for the off and Globrite, which I'm drawing a complete blank on."
"Not an option," he said flatly. "We need a Globrite scheme yesterday."
I was not in the mood for this.
"I said I'm drawing a complete blank," I said - totally aware that I was being unreasonable. "I've racked my brains but there just isn't anything in there."
"So it seems," he muttered, not quite quietly enough.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" I demanded.
He sat for a long moment, hyperventilating. Finally he said,
"Go home Jonah. You're doing no good in this office getting upset. Go home and, if you have a moment, give some thought to the Globrite contract, but don't worry about it. If necessary we'll give it to somebody else, or get an ideas man to work alongside you, but I don't think you want either of those things to happen. Have a good rest first. If there's anything I can help with, give me a bell."
I didn't go home. I wasn't in the mood for sitting around the flat. I went straight to the "One Crown" and not to drink coffee. Fortunately I was known to the landlord there and, after three pints of bitter he decided that I was obviously trying to get drunk and put his foot down.
"Jonah, whatever the problem is, that's not the answer. You've had enough. Can you make it to the station alright, or do you want me to walk down with you?"
I could make it. I did make it. I made it to our flat, though I don't remember most of the journey.
Peter and Luke arrived and found me sitting morosely on the sofa, glaring into my whisky glass. Fortunately there was not enough whisky in the flat to do any harm.
When Simon arrived he was all brisk and businesslike. He sized up the situation and - realising that I wasn't going to make dinner- set about doing it himself. Peter and Luke, rather than tackle me, elected to help him.
At some stage, one of the boys remembered that we now had a dog, and went and relocated him downstairs again. Like the boys, the puppy had sense enough to give me a wide berth.
Dinner was just on the table when a quiet knock on the door was heard. Simon let in Dr. Rob Rankine, and Ben. Now, if I felt bad, these two looked worse.
"Jonah, we need a word," said Rob.
I looked into his face. As he came into focus he said,
"probably best not in front of the boys."
I nodded, wordlessly, and headed up the stairs. Rob and Ben followed me. As soon as we entered my room Rob sat down on the bed and broke down in tears. That was what it took to neutralize three pints of bitter and a glass and a half of Scotch. I was stone cold sober.
Seeing that Rob was incapable, for the moment of coherent speech, I turned to Ben.
"Ben....?"
That was all it took to realise that I was talking to a deaf mute. Whatever had happened had undone all the work Dave Webber had put in....and then some.
I walked to the top of the stairs.
"Simon...." I called.
"Already doing it," came the reply.
"Thanks mate." I knew that was less than adequate.
I sat on the bed with Rob, holding his hand. He just sobbed, and sobbed.
Simon provided them with cups of tea, then elected to stay. Rob didn't object so Simon sat with Ben on the edge of the bed, with his arms around the boy.
Pure love was at work, and it was going to take a lot more of that to get Ben right again.
Rob cleared his throat.
"Jonah it's...."
He broke down again.
"It's alright mate," I said uselessly. "Take your time."
Joe Davis slid quietly into the room. I had no idea where he came from. Presumably the boys had let him in.
"How are they Jonah?" he asked quietly.
"They've been like this ever since they arrived," I told him. "Rob is trying to tell me something, but I don't think he's capable. "
Joe nodded then beckoned. I followed him to the boys' room. He quietly closed the door behind us. He'd been crying too, but he was at least coherent now.
"Jonah," he said, barely above a whisper, "he's trying to tell you about Monica. She was killed this afternoon."
The world stopped.
Tears sprung. This nightmare could not be happening.
"W..what? How? " I stuttered as well as I was able.
I could see the bleakness in Joe's face, even through my tears.
"You know she stopped staying with Ben for lessons, but she insisted on still walking with him to and from Dave's?"
I nodded.
"Well she was seeing him home this afternoon, when one of Kendal's construction lorries took the corner into Church Avenue too fast, and wide. Ben couldn't hear it so she pushed him out of the way but couldn't get clear herself. They took her to Northwick Park, but she was dead on arrival."
"Oh my God," I muttered. "Poor Ben"
Joe followed me back to the other room where I tapped Simon on the shoulder.
He looked up.
"I know," he said simply.
I nodded.
"Stay with Ben," I told him. "I need to speak to your brothers."
Reluctantly I trudged down the stairs. In the lounge I found Peter, with a tearstained face, hugging Luke, whose face was buried in Peter's chest.
"Is it true?" asked Peter.
"Yes," I said simply.
"It's not, it's not it's not," screamed Luke, breaking free, "It's a nightmare."
I sat on the sofa and hugged him to me.
I held him while he sobbed.
Eventually he subsided a little and said,
"Ben can't talk now, but when he went upstairs, I couldn't stop seeing Monica's face. Then I closed my eyes and I SAW IT HAPPEN."
I hugged him tightly. There were no words for that.
I have no idea how long we were like that. I know our dinner had got cold on the table, and nobody wanted dinner anyway. I saw Joe leave, apologetically saying that he need to get back to Miriam. I saw Howard climb onto the sofa and try to lick Luke's face. Luke roughly pushed him away, knocking the little chap to the floor.
"LUKE!" I cried, more in shock than anger, but Luke was already on the floor.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he kept repeating through his tears.
When love is present, a dog knows how to forgive.
Simon answered the door. I hadn't heard anybody knock, but Simon did and let in Dave Webber.
"How is everyone, Simon?" Dave asked.
"Not good," Simon replied. "Rob and Ben are upstairs crying their hearts out. Ben is so badly traumatised he can't communicate. Luke has got zapped by Bens tragedy, and other things, Jonah's just had the most rapid sobering up in history, and me and Pete..... well we just lost a good friend."
"And you're still you and Pete," said Dave with a grin, "which is just as well. Tell me again about Luke."
They went into conference in the kitchen as I watched Howard resume licking Luke's face. This time the boy did not stop him.
Presently Simon went back upstairs while Dave came and sat beside me. Resting his hand on my head he said,
"The Grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit."
"Amen," I said as he leaned forward and tapped Luke on the shoulder.
"Luke," he said, "I need a word."
Luke climbed back onto the sofa.
"Luke," said Dave, "tell me about those two visions you had."
"They were from Ben," said Luke. "I saw that lorry....."
"That was the second vision," Dave said, " and that one was from Ben, but tell me about the first one."
"I saw Monica," the boy replied.
"And how was she?"
"What?
"Did she look angry, sad, contented...."
"She looked like she looked when she was playing with Jacob...no... like when she was watching someone playing with Jacob."
"Luke, you say those visions came from Ben - well the second one was what he remembered happening, but where did he get the first? That had nothing to do with what happened."
"I don't understand."
"Luke, you were half right. The second vision came from Ben, he was using telepathy without realising, the first one came from Monica, probably also through Ben's telepathy. She was letting you know that it's alright, and she's happy. As happy as she always was when people were good to Jacob. She's happy that she saved Ben's life. She's happy that she lived eighty-three years, and she's happy that she had such good friends, but she's not happy that you are upset. Now, when you go to bed tonight, you pray to God that He'll look after her now, and that she'll be as happy with Him as she was with you. Alright?"
Luke nodded shyly.
"Good!"
Luke turned his attention back to Howard as Dave said to me,
"I'm going to try to have a word with Ben, but I don't expect I'll be able to get through to him. At least I can pray for him. I'll ask June to pop round here tomorrow. She's busy with Monica's sister at the moment. She'll have the job of arranging the funeral."
"I didn't know she had a sister."
"She's twenty years younger and lives in Warrington, where Monica originally came from. Best not send the boys to school tomorrow. Just give the school a ring - they'll understand. Mr. Enfield certainly wouldn't want Peter back in a traumatised state."
I grinned at that. A year ago, it wouldn't have been funny.
TO BE CONTINUED