As Time Goes By
by Michelle
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January - Stick With Me
When Vincent woke up early that morning, not even the crisp, chilly air in the chamber could rob him of the warmth he was feeling at that moment. In the loving embrace of his arms laid the woman who gave him everything - new strength, new courage, a new meaning of life, true love, a family.
He pulled the double layer of the quilted blankets higher up to her shoulders for her better comfort. Even after well over a year, Vincent couldn’t get enough of the blissful feeling of waking up to this every day. All those nights they had spent apart before they joined their lives into one, almost seemed unimaginable now. There was nothing in the world he would have traded with waking up next to Catherine every single day for the rest of his life.
January 12... The most magical day of my life...
Exactly a year earlier, on January 12, they became man and wife. A year... It almost seemed like an hour; it was truly eventful and passed almost too quickly. But Vincent wouldn’t have changed a single minute of it. Every day was a blessing, and every day, his love was reaching new heights, opening new horizons.
Things that are lovely and never happen... things that are not and that should be... (1)
Things did happen for Vincent and Catherine. They made them happen. Going against all odds and defying even the impossible, they made their love triumph in the end.
“Good morning,” Catherine’s sleepy voice interrupted his train of thought.
“Good morning,” he replied and softly caressed her hair.
“Is Jacob awake yet?
”No, I can feel he’s still dreaming of faraway lands, unicorns and dragons.” Vincent smiled.
“And lions,” Catherine added with a smile of her own, looking up at him with love.
“And angels.” His eyes told her more than his words.
After an eloquent beat, Catherine stole a tender kiss from him and laid her head back on Vincent’s warm chest. They stayed in blissful silence for a few minutes, always hungry for each other’s nearness, as if every second of separation was something they could not bear.
Catherine’s look fell on the old, worn-out stuffed lion peeking out from Jacob’s cot. She gifted it to their son on his first birthday. Her father had given it to her when she was little, and it belonged to her most precious keepsakes. Little Jacob grew as fond of it as his mother did back then and was hardly ever separated from his little furry friend.
“Whenever I look at the little lion, I feel Dad near,” Catherine said fondly. “There are times when I feel him so strongly, almost as if he was watching over my shoulder.”
“He is watching over all of us, Catherine,” Vincent said softly. “Those who loved us never leave us.”
She lifted her head again, searching for eye contact again.
Is that what kept you going when you thought I was dead?
Her unasked question was written all over her face; her gentle eyes projected compassion to his.
“Yes,” Vincent whispered, his striking blue eyes never leaving hers. She was sure he would reply, just as she was sure of what the answer would be. “That and the thought of Jacob. I knew you were close by… I couldn’t feel you, but I knew…”
Catherine wiped a stray tear from her cheek before pressing a kiss on his chest and laying her cheek back against his heart. The calm, regular beat of it was drawing her closer to him, as always.
After a moment, she pulled his hand - holding hers - to her lips.
“Happy birthday, Vincent,” she said then, looking up at him again with a smile full of promise and eyes full of that deep feeling that one human being can feel for another one.
“Happy anniversary, Catherine,” he replied, his voice full of emotions, returning her gaze with the same intensity.
What followed was as inevitable as rain following a period of drought…
＊＊＊
“What was the first birthday gift that you can remember?” Catherine asked a while later when they were resting in an embrace, wrapped in the warmth of the quilts.
Vincent chuckled, and his fingers absent-mindedly played with a few strands of her silky-soft hair.
”I had just turned four… Father thought it was the perfect time to get me started on his favourite game.”
Catherine was stunned. “He gave you a chess set? At the age of four??”
Vincent’s soft laugh made her smile.
“Father always had high expectations of me. I don’t know why but he always sensed… hoped that my handicap would make me stand out in other areas. Later, he used to say I had the making of Bobby Fischer - he learned to play chess at the age of 6.” He smiled fondly, remembering the many happy moments spent across the chessboard with his adoptive father.
Catherine raised her eyebrows, though couldn’t help but smile as well.
“He certainly didn’t go amiss in that assumption,” she said appreciatively. “For some reason, I can see him repeating the same with Jake in a couple of years.”
“Don’t worry, Catherine.” Vincent smiled with a hint of pride. “If our son inherited at least some of my genes in that aspect, he should teach Father a lesson by the age of five.”
She lifted her head to him in awe. Her emerald eyes, even bigger than usual, and her open mouth made Vincent laugh softly.
Do surprises never cease with you? Catherine thought to herself. Although it seemed almost impossible, her admiration for the man in her arms was still growing with each day.
Vincent reached for her face, cupping her cheek with his hand - the temptation to do that was too strong. The glowing rosy cheeks, the sparkling sea of green in her eyes, the smile that could light up the whole chamber, and that eventually settled on her face.
“And what was your greatest birthday wish ever?” Catherine asked quietly, aware of their son still sleeping.
Vincent’s smile faded a bit, and a more sombre expression replaced the content and happy one.
“It was shortly before my 33rd birthday,” he started. “For many years before, I was longing for something which no one Below could give me… That year…”
Vincent paused at once. Remembering that time of his life was making it hard for the right words to come. Catherine tenderly stroked his stubbly cheek, her eyes encouraging him to go on.
“That year, I had only one wish on my mind. Only several months before, I crossed paths with someone who opened my heart to something I had longed for but never hoped for it to happen to me… Feelings much stronger and deeper than I had ever experienced before or could ever imagine…”
A sudden recognition appeared in Catherine’s eyes, and they welled up.
“I wished for the hope of seeing you again… The hope of being at least a small part of your life, your dreams… The hope of being something to someone…”
Catherine smiled through tears. “This only proves that sometimes, dreams do really come true…”
Vincent returned her smile; melancholy disappeared from his face again.
“As long as we keep dreaming them,” he added, kissing the back of her hand that he was holding now.
The clock on the mantelpiece quietly chimed 7 am. There was a stir in the cot next to their large bed.
“The little prince is waking up,” Catherine remarked lovingly, and after kissing her husband, she got up from the bed, wrapping herself in the warm night robe.
Vincent knew she was right; he felt a slight stirring in his heart, coming from his bond with his offspring. He smiled and got up as well. It was time to start another day. He knew there would be a special birthday lunch with the other tunnel dwellers, then another, more private celebration only with Catherine.
But at that moment, he cared only about watching his wife and his just woken-up son do their usual morning routine and wonder about the miracle that was his own. He may have been losing hope many times in the past five years, but Vincent stuck with it when he needed it most, and his perseverance had been repaid with the greatest gift he had ever got - the gift of true love and his own family.
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FEBRUARY - Look At Me
Blissful silence. The combination of those two words perfectly described the moment Vincent found himself, in that early afternoon, in his chamber. His son was in the nursery, well looked after by Mary; his wife was Above in her private legal counselling office and he had nothing planned for the next two hours. Even the usual tapping sound of people communicating with each other had quietened down. This was a time that belonged only to him. There was no work on the new chambers or fixing broken pipes; no Council meeting, deciding about the big issues of the moment; no teaching lessons; no chess game with his father.
Vincent had to chuckle at the latter thought. Only the day before, grandpa Jacob (as he was lovingly nicknamed now) managed something that bordered on a miracle - after over a year of defeats, he beat his son in a game of chess.
The leonine man shook his head, smiling, remembering the ecstatic face of his parent when that glorious moment arrived.
If the world is falling apart, let Father win in chess and he will forget that the world even exists, he thought, bemused. Well, he didn’t let him win, it was a well-deserved victory, but still, it was priceless.
The vintage clock on the mantlepiece quietly chimed two o’clock in the afternoon. Vincent walked over to the table in the centre of the chamber and sat down to it. He reached for a wooden box and took out a sheet of paper. Its colour reminded him of the old papyrus he remembered from books about ancient Egypt - a tan shade with a touch of a pale coffee stain. His long fingers took a pencil out of a smaller, oblong carved box.
Vincent rested his hands on the table, looking at the blank paper.
A blank canvas, waiting to awaken the imagination.
He smiled, and his crystal-clear blue eyes twinkled in the soft candlelight. He closed his eyes for a moment, and a clear image appeared in his mind’s eye - a face, one of which he knew every line and every curve perfectly. His smile widened and when he opened his eyes again, his left hand, holding the pencil, set out to work.
Minutes were passing, and the careful yet masterful strokes on the paper revealed the image the artist was striving for. Line after line, it became almost real as if it could step out of the paper any minute.
Vincent’s drawing skills were not unknown. He used to draw a lot as a child, mainly fantasy creatures which his imagination revelled in creating. But as he grew up, real life and his duties in the tunnels took up most of his time, and he found a great source of relaxation and soul-searching in reading. Books became his sanctuary.
And yet, every now and then, in a few moments of solitude, he took a pencil and paper and let his creative juices flow. As he grew older, mystical and fantasy creatures were replaced by the portraits of the people he loved and cared for. All the drawings were carefully stored in his big wooden chest, full of his childhood toys and his most precious treasures. And there was a special, leather-bound folder with numerous portraits of the same face…
Ever since his son was able to pick up a pencil and create simple images, Vincent’s love for this art form gained in intensity again, and he was eager to join little Jacob in his favourite past-time activity whenever he had the opportunity.
The shading part was Vincent’s favourite. As his index finger carefully added depth and reality to the portrait (angled so that his claw wouldn’t damage the paper), it almost felt like tenderly caressing the original. Smiling widely, he had to think of the lines of one of his most beloved poems.
I am so many things. Happy. Awaken. Absolved. Fulfilled. Loved. Blessed... That is what I am. But also lucky, perhaps like no one else, for against my conviction, luck and providence brought me where I am, in the embrace of the other part of my soul...
Vincent had never truly thought about luck before. Even his survival as a baby in the unlikeliest circumstances was considered a miracle, but never luck. When thinking about the past five years, though, he had to admit, that luck was responsible for many events in his life indeed. Many things could have been so different had it not been for his strong sense of belief, hope, love and yes, a little bit of luck, as well.
The clock had just chimed again, when Vincent put down the pencil and smiled contentedly, regarding his little work of art. The face on the paper was so life-like that Vincent could almost hear a quiet but firm “look at me, look at me closely”… The big beautiful eyes gazing at him from the drawing were smiling, just like the full lips, that he had such pleasure drawing.
Satisfied with the result, Vincent signed his name in the bottom corner of the sheet. After casting one last look at the beloved face, he rolled the paper with the drawing carefully into a tube and tied it with a crimson-red ribbon. His fingers gently caressed the gift once more before putting it into the large box with blank paper sheets, hiding it from view until the time when he needed it.
As his hand rested on the box lid, a tender smile appeared on his serene face.
Happy Valentine’s Day, Catherine…
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(1) Lord Byron: She Walks In Beauty
MARCH - Follow Me
Vincent was kneeling on the roof-covered terrace of his and Catherine’s brownstone home. With his long clawed fingers, he was raking the rich dark soil in a large flower pot. Little Jacob was sitting on his children’s chair by his side, watching his every move. The early-spring sun was warming them pleasantly, though they were perfectly safe from the eyes of the outside world. The house was at a healthy distance from the neighbouring ones, and the high brick walls separated the whole beautiful garden behind the house from the rest of the neighbourhood.
“See, Jacob? It’s a perfect day for planting the rosebush,” Vincent said, smiling at his son. The toddler was observing him eagerly and answered with his own big smile.
Although Vincent was not new to planting, he was meticulous with every step of the process - this rosebush had to be well-planted and well-looked after. After all, it was a special bush.
The vivid colours of the sunlit garden below still amazed him, just like the very first time Catherine took him there and made him step out into the sun - carefully, yet with great anticipation and excitement. Vincent knew that he would never forget the moment when the morning sun touched his fully exposed face for the very first time.
He had seen the daylight on two occasions before - when he woke up in the park from one of his episodes during the dark time of his physical and mental breakdown, and on the balcony of Catherine’s apartment after overcoming another. Neither of the memories was a happy one. Due to his state back then, he was unable to remember the details of those moments.
But when Vincent finally saw the morning sun in the time of peace and happiness, he took in every shade of every colour around. At first, the bright sun rays blinded his eyes, and he had to cover them for a moment. But when they adjusted to the brightness, a new world opened for Vincent. Almost like Mouse’s “tube of colours”, despite being winter back then and the trees in the garden being bare. He became thirsty for more of it, and every day since then, he discovered something new…
“I help too,” the high-pitched soft voice of the child woke Vincent from daydreaming. Little Jacob outstretched his arms, indicating his wish to his father.
“Of course.” Vincent chuckled and pulled the bag with soil closer to the toddler. “Follow me,” he said, taking a handful of the dark soil and carefully spreading it around the bush in the pot. “Take a handful and spread it around.”
Vincent was happy to oblige his son, but he also wanted to keep him safe from the thorns. That is why his eyes were not leaving Jacob. The boy was fully absorbed in what he was doing. His hands did not have the elegant and skilled touch of his father’s yet - some of the soil landed on the tiled floor. Nevertheless, he kept going until Vincent gently stopped him, saying it was enough for what was needed.
“Now what?” Jacob asked with interest.
“Now, we will let nature follow its course,” Vincent replied with a smile, regarding the few buds with love.
Then, he sealed the bag with the remaining soil and tidied the ground around the flower pot.
“We will need to come regularly to water it, make sure it has everything it needs,” he said, kneeling next to Jacob. “Flowers need love and care to thrive, just like people.”
He looked at his son.
“Caring for people and looking after their well-being is the noblest thing and must never be forgotten. Your grandfather looks after me; your mother and I look after you, and one day, when you grow up, you will look after your children.”
“Friends, too,” Jacob added, his big blue eyes fixed on his father’s.
“Of course.” Vincent’s smile widened. “We all have a responsibility not only to ourselves but to each other, as well - to live together in love, help each other and be there for each other in good and bad times. That is what makes us who we are.”
The boy smiled as if he fully understood what his father tried to convey to him, despite his very young age. Then, he clapped his little hands in excitement, and he exclaimed, looking at the planted bush, “Mummy’s roses!”
Vincent lifted him in his arms, his eyes twinkling. “Yes.” He turned his head to the bush and suddenly noticed something he didn’t see before.
“Look…” he said and pointed at a half-opened white and half-opened red rosebud.
“One for mummy, one for daddy,” Jacob said with a beaming smile, and when he looked at Vincent, his eyes were bright like the stars.
“Yes,” Vincent replied dreamily. “Forever…”
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APRIL - Free Me
Restless. Agitated. You could even say furious.
That is how Vincent felt on that day, pacing quickly in his chamber back and forth, literally like a lion in a cage. For the first time in his life, he was truly cursing his fate.
It was April 12, the anniversary of his and Catherine’s first encounter, and unlike most previous years, his love and gratitude were temporarily replaced by anger.
Why can’t I take Catherine out like any other man? Is she truly bound to spend most of her life in the darkness of my world??
Not that it mattered that day, since his young wife was one month from her due date with their second child. She hadn’t left the tunnels for over a month already. The safety of the baby and her own was a priority for everyone, including the ex-D.A.’s assistant.
But regardless of the reality and the fact that Catherine was obviously loving her life underground and knowing she did not abandon the world Above forever, Vincent couldn’t swallow the bitter taste in his mouth that day. His life-long restriction was eating him up like never before, and after a long time, frustration was his best friend yet again.
“Vincent?” The cheerful voice of his father resonated in the chamber. Vincent stopped pacing, and while standing with his back to Jacob, he closed his eyes and sighed.
Please, not now…
The last thing he wanted was to vent his frustration on his parent. He took a deep breath and turned around, facing Jacob.
“Father,” he began as calmly as he could. “Can I help you with anything?”
Jacob’s smile froze on his face - he knew that look.
“Are you all right, Vincent?” the patriarch asked worriedly.
“Of course,” his son replied but he was visibly holding back something.
Jacob knitted his brows, watching Vincent move his hands about the books on his table - without any system or logic. The heaving chest, the tense jaw muscles, the quick movement of his eyes, avoiding his at any cost.
Dear God, I hope he’s not again…
“Are you sure there is nothing wrong, Vincent?” Jacob asked again, his voice much softer this time.
Vincent let out a low growl as he slammed the book he had in his hands at that moment on the table, making his parent jump a little.
“No!” The leonine man growled again and looked up at Jacob. “I’m tired, tired of this fish-tank world I live in! I’m tired of moving freely and yet being in an invisible cage. I’m tired of watching the world from the shadows and yet, being unable to truly experience its beauties with the woman I love and would do anything for!”
Jacob’s face relaxed with understanding. Yes, he was still worried about Vincent, but at least it was not another fit of any kind.
“Vincent, I know how you feel but---”
“Do you?” His son interrupted him. “Can you?”
“I’m trying to,” Jacob replied, and his eyes spoke about his genuine care. “I thought you reconciled yourself to your fate a long time ago?” he said.
Vincent jerked his head, and his voice sounded strained when he spoke.
“I can never reconcile myself to it. How can you reconcile yourself to being a life-long prisoner of your own home? I feel like being inside a glass fishbowl, seeing the world outside so clearly, and yet, when I try to reach out and be a part of it, the glass wall will not let me further… All I did was conveniently bury those feelings in the happiness and good fortune of being blessed with love and family. “
That was truly tough to comment on; Jacob knew that very well. Like so many times throughout the years, his heart was aching for his adoptive son. He was searching for the right words to console him, well aware of the fact, though, that no words could erase the feelings of entrapment that Vincent could never fully escape.
The agitation on Vincent’s face was not fading; on the contrary, it seemed to have gained in intensity. And yet, Jacob dared a try.
“I know nothing I say can make change things for you in this matter,” he started carefully. “But you received a gift greater than you have ever hoped for, achieved what no one would ever expect you to… And Catherine made her choice clearly and is truly happy with the life she had chosen. Everyone can see that…”
His worried grey eyes refused to leave Vincent’s troubled face. But the moment he stopped speaking, he realised he’d failed to break through the wall of anger around his son’s mind.
Vincent closed his eyes and released a deep, laboured sigh. He was trying to calm down for his parent’s sake, but it was to no avail. That day, whatever triggered his poisonous feelings, it aimed perfectly, and he felt unable to send it back to the shadows.
Suddenly, quicker than Jacob would have expected, Vincent swept everything off the table with one mighty swing of his arm and a loud growl - only one lonely candle remained on it, though knocked over. Its flame was still flickering.
Before the patriarch could recover from the shock, as if by magic, Vincent suddenly went quiet when his eyes noticed something off-white, lying on the floor among the mostly book debris.
He went slowly on his knees to pick it up. When his clawed fingers touched the drawing his son Jacob made just that morning, Vincent’s look softened; he closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled deeply. When he looked at the drawing again, his eyes reflected nothing but pure and unconditional love.
The drawing was simple - a few basic strokes representing trees and four basic drawings of figures (two larger ones and two small) between them.
Catherine, myself, little Jacob and… Yes, Vincent thought to himself proudly, someone who has yet to see the beauties of this world.
His little family having a walk in a forest.
How simple it seemed… His almost two-year-old son could see so clearly what Vincent had almost forgotten: All you need to live your dream is to use your imagination to fill the gaps you can’t fill in real life. Wasn’t that what he had been doing all his life? That one picture was the mirror image of the greatest gift and blessing he got - his own family, including the yet unborn member of it.
How can you curse your life when you have all this?
Jacob senior watched him for a while, but when he noticed the recognition on Vincent’s face, he slowly walked over to him and gently touched his shoulder. His look fell on the drawing, and a knowing smile followed his sigh of relief.
“Sometimes we cannot see the forest for the trees, can we?” he said.
When the sapphire blue eyes met the grey ones, they twinkled.
“Yes,” Vincent chuckled and shook his head. “Sometimes we need someone to remind us.”
“Or something,” Jacob replied and rejoiced, seeing the contented smile back on his adoptive child’s face.
Both men remained in peaceful silence for a moment. Then, Vincent affectionately patted his father’s shoulder. He started picking up the books, snuffed-out candles and other objects from the floor, putting them back on the table.
Jacob bent over heavily, trying to help him, but his achy leg prevented him from helping much. He did manage to pick up a book, though. When Vincent noticed its vintage, worn cover, he accepted it from Jacob’s hands with a radiant smile, caressing it gently.
The Great Expectations…
The patriarch’s smile widened, but he quickly asked, happily returning to reality.
“So, where are you taking Catherine tonight?”
“William is preparing a special dinner for us. Then, we are going to the Mirror Pool to… read,” Vincent answered, his unusual mouth smiling enigmatically. “Mouse made sure nobody will disturb us there tonight.”
“That sounds very… cosy,” his father replied cheerfully.
Although noticing the slight pause in his son’s answer, Jacob decided it was best not to elaborate further on the matter. Anyway, a woman in the 8th month of her pregnancy can’t handle much more than reading, he thought. Or can she?…
Indeed, Vincent had no wish to elaborate further either. All that mattered to him at that moment was the knowledge that despite his fate that made him live apart from the world Above, he was still… blessed, more than many people ever would be.
Freedom has many forms of interpretation and different meanings to different people. Yet at that moment, despite his limitations, Vincent felt truly, blissfully and almost inexplicably… free...
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MAY - Meet Me
That late spring Sunday afternoon, Vincent entered the nursery with a glowing, excited face. He barely had the time to spot who he was looking for when a soft, high-pitched voice called for his attention.
“Daddy!”
The proud father turned his head towards the voice, and a heartfelt smile graced his exotic face. He went on his knee and opened his arms wide, catching his two-year-old son, who ran to him immediately.
“Jacob…” he whispered into the boy’s soft golden hair. Smiling, he nodded to Jamie, who was in charge of the little ones that afternoon, standing in for Mary. Her face lit up, and she smiled back at her friend, obviously thrilled.
The child pulled back from the embrace, and his inquisitive blue eyes - a perfect copy of his father’s - mirrored a wish before he spoke.
“Want to see.”
Vincent’s smile widened, and his eyes glistened.
“Yes, you can see him now,” he whispered with a moved voice, lifting his son in his arms and walking out of the nursery.
＊
Catherine felt very tired, but her face was glowing with happiness, completely disregarding the physical and mental exhaustion from the hours before. What she was holding in her arms was more than a reward for all that. It was another miracle life gifted her, and her heart was bursting with love.
“You did very well, Cathy,” Peter said, stroking his godchild’s dark-blond head fondly. “You truly have more strength in you than it seems.”
Catherine’s smile widened. “I had someone sharing his strength with me,” she spoke softly, and Peter knew only too well who she meant.
“Very true, and he did his job marvellously, as well,” Jacob added with unmasked pride while he was tidying up his medical equipment.
At that moment, Vincent entered the Hospital Chamber with little Jacob in his arms, and all heads turned to them. The untamed joy was visible on everyone’s faces.
“Jacob would like to see his brother,” Vincent spoke quietly, still deeply moved from the experience of that day.
He walked over to Catherine’s bed and carefully sat his son next to his wife.
Catherine’s hand reached for her firstborn’s golden-haired head and stroked it gently.
“Say hello to your little brother, Jake,” she said, smiling.
When she shared a loving look with Vincent, her eyes welled up again.
In her mind, Catherine returned to the time five years earlier, when she crossed paths with this extraordinary human being. Ever since that day, she knew her life would never be the same and very soon, she knew all that she would dream of was to become a part of his life forever. The road leading to that point was not exactly the easiest one for either of them. It was worth following, though, every single step of it. And now, another beautiful chapter of their life together had just started - a chapter involving another new life born out of the greatest love she had ever known.
“His name?” Little Jacob interrupted her thoughts.
“That will not be revealed until the Naming Ceremony,” Vincent explained. “It is a tradition, and we keep it every time a new baby is born.”
“Jacob?” The boy narrowed his eyes in thought. “My birthday.”
Everyone standing around the bed laughed.
“I think there are enough Jacobs in the family already,” the boy’s proud grandfather noted with a chuckle.
Mary, watching the happy family, shook her head, smiling.
“Isn’t it amazing? He was born exactly two years after his brother…”
Vincent couldn’t get enough of the tiny baby in Catherine’s arms. The boy’s eyes were big, curiously watching his parents and sibling, and they were of the same shade of green as his mother’s eyes. But he unmistakably inherited the golden colour of his fine hair from his father. Rosy cheeks and a button of a nose completed the picture of cuteness, and when the tiny hand grabbed Vincent’s index finger, there was little doubt where the baby’s physical strength originated.
“Perhaps, he knew it was the perfect time to enter this world,” Vincent spoke gently, gazing at his younger offspring. “A time for celebrating another miracle.”
He looked back at little Jacob and smiled fondly.
At that moment, he felt Catherine’s hand covering his. Looking at her, he saw her mouthing the words “thank you”. Her eyes were glistening, and her face, though understandably bearing signs of fatigue, was glowing.
Vincent knew how much pain she had endured bringing the child into the world; he felt it with her. And despite remembering the fear that struck him at some point - fear of losing her - he would never want not to share the experience with her.
He lowered his face to Catherine’s and kissed her gently on her eyebrow, whispering before looking into her eyes again.
“I have drunken deep of joy, and I will taste no other wine tonight.” (3)
“Oh, I rather think William might have something to say about that.” Catherine chuckled softly. Her smile was contagious, and the way she was gazing into her husband’s eyes was melting him inside all over again.
“All right, there will be plenty of time to celebrate later,” the now double-grandfather Jacob spoke as the true doctor that he was. “The mother and the baby need a rest.”
He nodded to Peter and Mary, who stepped to the bed.
“Come on, young man. Let your mother and brother have a nice sleep now. You will see them later,” she said to little Jacob.
Vincent took his older son in his arms and kissed his little cheek before passing him to Mary.
“Be good, my boy; I will pick you up a little later,” he spoke softly.
When Mary left with the child in her arms, the two older men in the chamber were ready to leave the parents alone. The patriarch walked over to the bed and took Catherine’s hand in his. He kissed it, and in his face, Catherine saw deep emotions resurfacing yet again.
“I am sure that wherever he is now, your father is proud of you, as well,” he added, his eyes fixed on his daughter-in-law’s eyes, making her smile widely.
Then, he embraced his son heartily, and supported by his walking stick, walked out of the Hospital chamber.
When Jacob was out of sight, Vincent sat back down next to his wife and gently wiped away a stray tear from her face.
“As if he knew what name we have chosen for our second child,” he said, his deep blue eyes smiling. “But I agree… Very proud, as am I.”
Without leaving his eyes, Catherine slowly shifted aside on her bed, making more space next to her. Even if he wanted, Vincent couldn’t refuse her invitation, and he slipped very carefully next to her. As she laid her head against his shoulder, feeling his arm around her, there was nothing in the world more blissful.
Both parents observed the precious new arrival, now slumbering in his mother’s arms, while his father tenderly stroked the baby’s head.
Blessed again… One more miracle to the colourful mosaic of our lives, Vincent thought.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, Vincent,” Catherine whispered, watching her sleeping newborn, joy spreading inside her like a warm spring. Through their bond, she knew exactly what the man holding her in his arms was feeling.
Vincent tightened his hold of her, closed his eyes and with a smile, he whispered into her fine hair.
"There will never be any more perfection than there is now... Happiness, not in another place but this place... not for another hour, but this hour..." (4)
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(3) P.B. Shelley: The Cenci, Act I
(4) Walt Whitman: Leaves of Grass
JUNE - Drink Me
“How far do you want to go, Mouse? We need to be back by the evening. I have sentry duty tonight,” Jamie spoke more as a matter of fact than worriedly.
The blond, skinny girl, who had just turned twenty-one, was always the adventure type, loving exploring the tunnels and finding new places. Her best friend was the perfect companion for these trips. The only problem was, he mostly tended to ignore time completely.
“No problem,” Mouse chirped excitedly, “be back on time easily.”
“On time, sure,” Jamie raised her eyebrows. “As if you knew what that means.”
Mouse grinned while quickening his pace.
“On time - good. Late - bad.” He smirked at the girl.
Jamie couldn’t help but chuckle, seeing his enthusiasm.
“Yeah, sort of.”
She wanted to say something more, but her mouth stayed half-opened while she was staring at the image of the cavern that just appeared at the end of the tunnel through which they were walking.
“My God…” she whispered. “Look at that!”
Mouse’s blue eyes widened in awe - the centrepiece of the rocky cavern the size of a larger chamber was a sparkling pool, catching the stream of light penetrating from a small opening high above. Surrounding the liquid surface was a vast amount of variously shaped and coloured glittering stalagmites, giving the water colour shades neither youngster had ever seen down Below. It was past high noon in the world Above, and the sun was generous in its strength, warming the water in the pool almost visibly. The whole space felt quite humid.
“Catherine’s crystal place?” Mouse narrowed his eyes.
“Don’t be stupid,” Jamie countered. “The journey to find it and back took Vincent two days back then, and he never mentioned a pool. This is something else.”
Mouse breathed a simple “oh”, and his eyes wandered around again.
“Look! Up there, on the right!” he exclaimed excitedly.
The girl spotted it immediately. Over the right side of the pond, from the rocky wall above the turquoise blue and blush pink stalagmites, there was a mild stream of crystal-clear water running steadily into the pool. Mouse’s enthusiasm reached a new level, and he walked over to it briskly.
”Be careful,” Jamie called after him. “It might be slippery.”
Mouse ignored her words. His eyes were fascinated with the sparkling stream, his ears caressed by the bubbly sound of the falling water. Suddenly his face lit up, and he turned back to Jamie.
“Stream of youth!” he exclaimed.
Jamie rolled her eyes theatrically.
“Right, as if that ever existed. Try again,” she said, though the idea sounded intriguing.
“Read about it in a book of legends.” The boy didn’t let her discourage him. “The fountain of eternal youth and health. Drink from it and stay young forever.”
Mouse caught a little of the clear liquid in his hand and sniffed at it. His eyes brightened, and he smiled wide when looking back at his best friend.
“Smells good, smells fresh. Might work. Jamie should try.”
Jamie rolled her eyes again. Her ever-present pragmatism was never failing her.
“Mouse, you know very well it’s just legends. There is no such thing as a fountain of eternal youth, or a philosopher’s stone, or things like that. We all have to grow old and die one day. That’s the way life is and always will be. It is just a lovely ordinary fresh-water stream at a lovely underground pool.”
She noticed the smile on her friend’s face fading and his eyes clouding over with sadness. He lowered his eyes, observing the remnants of the water trickling down his hand.
“Wish you would drink so you could live forever because… Mouse would miss Jamie.” He paused for a moment, then looked at his friend again. “If Jamie died, Mouse would have a big hole, here…” He placed his hand over his heart, his look shy though honest.
The girl’s look softened at once as she saw through his words. Something unusual stirred inside her. Jamie reached into her satchel hanging over her shoulder and took out a copper cup. Then, she carefully walked over to the stream, gathering some of the water in the cup. After inspecting the water for a moment, smelling it and deciding it seemed harmless, she took a sip.
Mouse was expectantly following her every move. When Jamie finished her cup, the corners of her mouth turned upwards.
“It’s good,” she said, and after refilling the cup, she offered some water to Mouse.
He didn’t need any more encouragement and drank the liquid in a couple of big gulps.
They both took in the almost unbelievable beauty of the place for a few moments. Suddenly, Mouse got curious, and he asked an almost inevitable question.
“Why changing your mind?”
Jamie lowered her eyes at first, then looked at him almost shyly. A smile appeared on her face when she spoke quietly.
“I wouldn’t want to cause a hole here…” She touched the part of the chest over Mouse’s heart.
Her hand lingered on that spot briefly, inexplicably enjoying the physical feeling. Then she flashed a smile at him, pulled her hand back and stood up.
“We should be heading back,” she said, back to her old pragmatical self.
Mouse was still sitting, staring at her with an almost hypnotised look. His hand was lightly pressing the spot over his heart where her hand had been just a while before.
”Come on; I don’t want to be late. We can return here some other time,” Jamie said, smiling at her companion, and after one last look around, she walked out of the cavern.
Mouse, feeling a bit giddy, stood up and followed her with a dreamy smile.
※※※※※
JULY - Forgive Me
“And when I returned home a bit later, I found Charles hiding in the shed in the garden, shaking like a leaf in its corner. I asked him what was wrong. He didn’t want to tell me at first, but then he said…” Devin chuckled, shaking his head. “He said with that deep but childlike voice, ‘Sorry, Dev… I couldn’t chase it away… I have always been… afraid of… mice…’”
Both Devin and Jacob laughed wholeheartedly at the end of the story the patriarch’s older son was telling. They were reminiscing about Devin’s dear friend Charles, the former ‘Dragonman’, and the times they spent living together in the Catskill Mountains. The image of the gentle giant being afraid of something so tiny in comparison was very amusing indeed.
“He was always such a big softie,” Devin said with a smile. His eyes grew sad at once.
“You miss him a lot, don’t you?” Jacob asked gently, moving his Bishop on the chessboard between them. It had been a few months since Charles passed away after several health complications.
Devin sighed, still smiling, though.
“More than I would have ever thought… There was something… pure and innocent and kind in Charles, that always made me smile,” the younger man said softly.
“They were very different, but in a way, he reminded me of Vincent. With his devotion, his… gratitude, his empathy, his vulnerability and yet strength, at the same time. I often watched him thinking of Vincent, how I left him when he needed me the most… “ Devin straightened on his chair, trying to regain composure. “I loved Charles dearly, but I often think I wanted to look after him to compensate for my failure with Vincent.”
Both men went quiet for a moment, seemingly returning to their game - the younger one deep in thought, the older one searching for the best words to reply to what he had just heard.
Devin absently moved his Knight on the chessboard. Seeing his move, Jacob suddenly woke up from his game oblivion and raised his eyebrows.
“Are you sure?” the patriarch asked.
His son looked at the board and chuckled.
“I told you this was a bad idea. Vincent has always been the champion of this family.”
The moment he said it, he looked at his father sitting across from him, realising the ambiguity of his words. Jacob’s eyes grew sad.
“I’m sorry, Dad, I didn’t---”
"I know you didn’t, “ Jacob replied with a sad smile. “Which doesn’t mean there is no truth in your words… At least seemingly.”
Devin watched his parent with eyes filled with compassion. Only a few years back, it would have been resentment, anger, even hatred.
Jacob stood up heavily from his chair; even the walking stick seemed suddenly more a burden rather than help. He walked over to the nearest bookshelf, staring aimlessly at the vintage covers.
“You haven’t failed Vincent,” he started, pain colouring his voice. “If anyone had failed here, it was me - I failed you.”
The former fraud sat still, desperately wanting to say no, you didn’t, but his throat refused to utter a single sound. Yes, they talked over their problems a few years earlier, when Devin found his way back to the tunnels, and their relationship did get much better. But some wounds take much longer to heal; they cut too deep…
“Sometimes I wish I could turn back time, thinking I would do things differently, treat you differently,” Jacob continued quietly. “But the truth is, I don’t think I would…”
When he turned back to face Devin, his eyes were glistening. “I truly believed I was doing the best for you, trying to teach you to fit in, find a purpose in life so you would be happy when you grow up. I…” Jacob chuckled.
“You know how people say they would never be like their parents? Well, I was one of them, and yet, I made the same mistake in raising my own son that my father did with me - I tried to restrain you, guide you on the path that I chose for you. I was open-minded to all other children except for you. I wished to protect you. I thought, that by being stricter with you than with others, I would instil order and strength in you. I forgot what it felt like for me back then… Only Vincent made me truly understand that when you came back, telling me how unfairly I treated you.”
Jacob bowed his head, trying to hide the tears threatening to spill.
Devin swallowed hard, the buried emotions from his childhood getting the better of him. And yet, he felt sorry for the ageing man in front of him, understanding now that everything he did was partially from love and partially as a result of his own life experience.
He stood up from his chair and slowly walked over to his father.
“You didn’t fail me, Dad,” he said, his voice forcing Jacob to look up. “You did what you thought was best for me. I just couldn’t understand why back then, not knowing that I was…”
“My son,” the older man finished the sentence, pain still engraved on his face.
“Yes,” Devin agreed and smiled. “But… what I know now is that somehow it was meant to be, everything that had happened. And although I will always feel bad for leaving Vincent behind and keeping you in the dark for so long, I had to find my own way and purpose in life. I probably would have never managed to do it in the tunnels. The only place I would have seen myself in would have been in Vincent’s shadow, sticking out but never standing out.”
Jacob shook his head, remorse written all over his face.
“Will you ever… forgive me?” he asked quietly, desperately awaiting his ordeal. “Can you?”
It was Devin’s turn to shake his head - and smile.
“Love doesn’t need forgiveness, only understanding and acceptance.”
Jacob swallowed, and a grateful smile graced his kind face.
“Where did you get so wise, my son?” He knitted his brows, pretending to think hard.
Devin chuckled and put his hand on the patriarch’s shoulder.
“You know, Dad, I really don’t know…”
His warm brown eyes were smiling and Jacob saw nothing but peace and love in them.
“I think it’s time to check on my nephews; what do you think?” Devin asked cheerfully after a moment, giving his father an encouraging pat on the back.
“I think you have perfect timing - they will be just after their afternoon nap,” Jacob replied with a chuckle.
As they were about to walk out of the chamber, Devin suddenly stopped, remembering something.
“Dad, what did you do back then when you were struggling with your father’s attitude?” he asked.
Jacob sighed; he was dreading that question all the time since mentioning it. He looked at his son earnestly before speaking.
“I ran away from home… For two weeks… Well, you beat my record.”
Devin’s shocked face made the patriarch burst into laughter, joined immediately by his son’s.
When they were walking away together, all was definitely well again in the house of Wells.
※※※※※
“Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.”
- Mark Twain
AUGUST - Dance With Me
Catherine and Vincent were spending that late summer weekend with their sons in their brownstone near Central Park again. Catherine was a woman of both worlds, but Vincent had also become a man of both worlds - in his own way and to his wife’s greatest joy. No important work was planned in the Tunnel World that weekend, no special event. The young family could make the best of their free time together in the peace of their own private space.
The weather was lovely and warm; they spent most of Friday and Saturday on the terrace or in the garden, playing with little Jacob and Charles, reading together, or tending to the garden. Special attention went to Catherine’s new rosebush, the one that Vincent planted with such love and care for her in spring - with the support of their beloved older son, of course.
The young mother adored it; the red and white flowers and their scent brought her back to the balcony where she planted this special bush for the first time. It awakened the memory of a special moment between her and Vincent that always made her smile.
But Saturday evening made way for a typical summer thunderstorm. It might have been a Heaven-sent for the greenery, suffering in the heat of the previous weeks, but it was no bliss for Jacob, for he found it impossible to sleep in the noise (in complete contrast with his baby brother, whose slumber was surprisingly undisturbed by noise). Each sound of the rumbling thunder was keeping him up, and he was restless. Vincent took the boy in his arms and let their bond and the calm rhythm of his heart work its magic.
The boy snuggled up to his father even more and let his mother stroke his head gently in rhythmic, lulling moves. The sound of thunder didn’t make him jerk anymore, only open his eyes again. In a few minutes, though, his eyes grew tired, and with the storm moving further away and the noise quieting down, Jacob drifted into the land of dreams.
“They would pay you with gold in any kindergarten, Vincent,” Catherine whispered, shaking her head, and chuckled. “I should say I really don’t know how you do it, but the thing is… I do, for you have the same power over me…”
Her loving smile lit up his face, as well. Vincent carefully moved the sleeping boy back to his cot while Catherine gently covered him with a light summer blanket. After one more look at their sleeping children, filling them both with a blessed feeling, they quietly left the children’s room, leaving the door ajar.
“I’ll go and make us some nice tea,” Catherine said, turning to Vincent and leaning into him for a tender kiss.
Vincent caressed her cheek with a smile and watched her walk downstairs. He sighed with contentment and returned to their bedroom.
His look fell on the French door leading out to the balcony. The refreshing, almost sweet smell of the summer rain permeated into his hypersensitive nostrils even through the glass panes. Unable to resist, Vincent walked over to the French door and opened it wide.
The moment the rich, humid air hit his nose, he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. His exotic mouth stretched into a satisfying smile, and he bent his head slightly backwards, letting the still persistent, yet by now gentle raindrops fall on his leonine face. From somewhere in the far distance, a deep sound of thunder reached his ears, awakening all his senses even more. He briefly opened his eyes and saw a lightning flash in the distance; a little while later, it was followed by another, rather quiet thunder. The storm was definitely moving away.
Vincent felt his shirt getting wet, but the moment in which he found himself felt too good for him to care. All he cared about was the electricity in the air, reviving his energy all anew, making it pulsate in every vein, every muscle of his body.
Suddenly, he sensed her presence, followed by the familiar light flowery scent of her hair, invading his nostrils. Vincent turned around and saw Catherine leaning against the French door, holding two mugs of herb tea in her hand. The dreamlike expression on her face and the strong pull at his heart told him, though, that it definitely wasn’t tea that was on her mind that very moment.
He smiled, his darkened eyes twinkled in the night, and he reached out his hand to her.
“Come,” he said with a deep velvety voice. “Dance with me, Catherine.
As if in a daze, Catherine lost the mugs on the little table at the door and stepped out into the gentle rain. The look at him almost took her breath away - his tall, strong figure was oozing power and energy; his wet hair seemed even longer, lining his gorgeous face; his eyes were like two sparkling diamonds in the light of the moon that just appeared from behind a cloud.
Her heart beat faster, and Vincent’s eyes were taking in her slender figure, hidden in a night robe, her small, bare feet, softly meeting the cooling, and by then wet balcony tiles. Catherine accepted his hand gratefully and found herself wrapped in his embrace, being swung gently in the rhythm of a slow waltz that only their minds could hear.
Vincents lowered his head, kissing her gently, then rested his forehead against hers, still swaying her slowly from side to side. And while Catherine blissfully smiled with closed eyes, the words of a poem crossed Vincent’s mind. He could not but smile as well.
※※※※※
_______________________________________________________
(5) Rainer Maria Rilke: You Darkness
SEPTEMBER - Resist Me
When Cullen volunteered to help Mouse check for pipe leaks in the lower-level tunnels, he had no idea it would lead them to such dark and strangely smelling places. He had never been further than to the Home Tunnels, and exploring the more remote part of the underground world sounded intriguing to him. The reality was far less adventurous and far more gloomy, though. Long, poorly lit, unusually hot corridors, making him sweat more than usual. And steam, lots of steam, floating all around them - the deeper down they went, the more of it.
“Only the last pipe to check, and we can head back,” Mouse broke the silence cheerfully. It seemed that nothing could have dampened the spirit of the eternal boy, the tunnel’s technical genius.
“I’m happy to hear that,” Cullen replied. “My clothes are stuck to my body. I feel like a baby needing a new nappy,” he added dryly.
Mouse chuckled and walked on, following the pipes on the wall. Suddenly he stopped abruptly at an entrance to what seemed like a chamber.
“Was it supposed to be here?” Cullen asked curiously, peeking inside.
“Not sure,” Mouse answered. “Don’t remember seeing it.”
They entered the unknown space using a torch since the light in the chamber was dim. There was a lot of dust-covered debris everywhere around them, signs of someone having lived there before.
“Whoever lived here before sure didn’t like cleaning,” Mouse said, his eyes curiously taking in everything.
“There must have been a fire here sometime,” Cullen remarked, sniffing lightly.
His thoughts were interrupted by Mouse’s “Ouch!”. His young friend tripped over a dusty metal ring on the ground and fell.
“Are you all right?” the carpenter asked the boy, helping him to stand up.
“Yeah,” came the reply, as Mouse was brushing the dust and dirt off his clothes.
Cullen’s eyes suddenly narrowed, noticing the ring was actually a handle on a large stone door in the ground. He looked at Mouse and the excitement immediately enthralled them both. The older man gripped the handle and pulled it up - the door was heavy, but he managed by himself quite easily.
Both friends scanned the dark, not-too-deep space under the door with their eyes. The light of the torch Cullen was holding revealed the shape of a wooden crate.
“Hold this.” He passed his torch to Mouse and reached into his satchel for a knife. He went down on his knees, and using the knife, he forced the lid to open. Mouse’s eyes got huge as he detected the crate content - old gold coins, lots of them.
“I know what this place is,” Cullen whispered, his eyes glued to the gold. “It’s the place where Paracelsus lived before he fought with Vincent for the first time, and it caught fire…”
Mouse knitted his brows and scratched his head.
“Thought the gold melted in the fire; Vincent said everything burnt down. ”
“It was safe underground,” Cullen countered. “Rocks and stone don’t burn."
“How come Paracelsus did not return for it? To take it back?” Mouse asked, still not understanding.
“He probably had much more in different places in the tunnels,” Cullen replied, his eyes fixed on the shiny content below him.
Mouse noticed his friend’s changed look - he had seen it before. Suddenly, he felt a brief, stabbing pain in his abdomen. Unawares, his hand covered the spot.
“No good for Paracelsus, no good for anyone,” he said, looking at Cullen earnestly.
Cullen looked at him, awakening from his daze. His eyes were clear again. In Mouse’s eyes, he saw a reflection of himself, but also the memory of one of the darkest times of his life.
Yes, gold wasn’t good for anyone in the Tunnels - it almost destroyed them all when Cullen fell into the trap of wanting after they found the old treasure in the sunken ship in the tunnels. It almost ended the life of the young man standing in front of him. It almost turned him into a murderer.
“You’re right,” the carpenter said then, lowering his eyes, but only after Mouse noticed the shame in them.
Mouse felt relieved and smiled in his heartfelt, boyish way, putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder.
Cullen, having a flashback, couldn’t but smile as well, patting Mouse’s hand. Then he sighed, and his eyes wandered around the burnt-out chamber.
“We should seal the entrance to this, “ he said, then looked back at Mouse. “For safety.”
Their eyes remained locked for a moment; then Mouse nodded and smiled again.
“No problem, Mouse can fix it. With Cullen’s help. Need to get back to get stuff,” the boy said hastily, sounding very sure again as if it was something he used to do in his sleep. He stopped only for a moment and turned to Cullen, realising something. “And more men,” he grinned and grabbed Cullen by his arm, dragging him out of the chamber.
“Slow down, Mouse,” Cullen exclaimed with a chuckle. While walking, he shook his head and smiled.
Good old Mouse... The only Mouse with nine lives, as Winslow said once, he thought to himself. And I, more than anyone else, am very glad for it...
※※※※※
OCTOBER - Fight me
The Halloween party at Millenium Developers Ltd. was a smashing occasion. The top of New York’s society were attending, and all of them were having great fun. All except for one - Elliot Burch. That was the reason why he left it well before it even got to the stage where the “bunnies” started undressing the “pirates” and “Elvis Presleys” for the enjoyment of all the ladies present.
Bah, humbug, Elliot thought and chuckled. How on Earth did I even get here?
When he walked out of the cigar-smoke-filled banquet hall, he took a deep breath. The late October air was crisp and fresh, and Elliot’s lungs were very grateful for that.
He decided to ditch the cab for once and walk home. It was only a few blocks anyway. He had been doing that quite a lot lately. Ever since the developer had met Vincent after their first Halloween meeting, it was in Central Park, in the late hours. And when they didn’t go to the tunnels, they covered quite a long walking distance in the park during their conversations, always carefully sheltered by the trees.
It was nearly midnight when Elliot reached his luxurious house (or rather, one of them). As usual, at night, he returned to an empty house. His latest relationship fell apart only a month earlier - the lady in question was neither able nor willing to live with Elliot’s working ethic of spending 16 hours a day between his office and business meetings. A typical “you have to choose” situation - relationship or work.
However, if he was honest with himself, one of the richest men in New York did not regret it that much. He was still learning, trying to find someone special; someone who would understand him and made him feel the way he only felt once in his life. Catherine Chandler was still a tough act to follow.
Elliot poured himself a glass of whisky. Then he slumped into his very comfortable and very expensive leather chair in his home office. He didn’t even bother to turn on the lights; a small desk lamp illuminated the room just enough with its warm, amber glow. Elliot leaned his head against the headrest, sighed and closed his eyes.
A sudden memory brought him back to the Halloween night a year earlier. It was the night when he met Vincent for the first time - and discovered his true identity… The memory made Elliot smile. He had met the extraordinary man several times since then. Vincent's honest words, clever and intelligent mind, impeccable yet natural manners and cultured nature impressed him greatly. Out of all people that Elliot Burch had ever known, only very few were so genuine and so truthful in his presence. Vincent was one of the rare lot, perhaps the rarest of them all (in more than one sense of the word).
Elliot also remembered how Cathy looked that night - dressed as the almost ethereal Lady Guinevere. Her costume back then only underlined the perfect feminine curves of her figure; her eyes shone bright like stars when she was looking into Vincent’s eyes…
Yes, Vincent. The man who “took” Catherine out of reach of any other man.
Stop it, Elliot chided himself, she is happy with him, and he’s a good man; that’s all that matters.
Good, maybe, but man… Who are you kidding?” his old self remarked sarcastically.
Not again… I’ve been through this before; there is no point in---
Yes, you’ve been through this before and decided it was best to bury your head in the sand and go along with the happily-ever-after couple theme. Happily ever after - only without you!
Elliot knitted his thick brows. He didn’t like his old self resurfacing at all; it always threw insults at him like poison, making him feel uncomfortable and like something he never took easily - a loser.
Yes, loser, that is what you are… What can he give her that you don’t have? Buried in the underground like a rat… She should be basking in the sun above!
I’m not a loser! He contradicted the other half of his personality strongly. You know they don’t live like rats and anyway… I am not going to spend the rest of my life in jealousy and resentment!
Slamming the by-now-empty glass on the desk, Elliot felt an unpleasant agitation rising in him like a tide. He stood up and walked over to the large window overlooking the even larger garden. There was not much to see at that time of the day. It was dark outside (only the security light was on), but his eyes focused on the almost black shapes of the tall trees in the distance anyway. He needed to focus on something.
“Look at those oak trees, Elliot, truly look. What do you see? Most people would say trunks and leaves. But if you look closer, you see so much more - the birds building their nests in the crowns; the acorns, just ripe enough for the squirrels to snatch them; the shade they offer to lovers, children or older, tired people resting at their trunks. They are a safe home, a source of nourishment, a shelter and a place of comfort…”
He could hear the soothing baritone of Vincent’s voice as if he was standing next to him. The words from their latest conversation resonated in the developer’s mind and heart more than anything at that moment.
What can he give her? Elliot repeated the question he asked himself only a few minutes earlier. All that he can; all that he has… All that he is… And what he is is worth all the gold in the world.
The look of his eyes softened, and a warm smile appeared on his face.
“Don’t give up, Elliot. You can still live your big dreams while also truly living your own life. All you need is to find a balance between them. Somewhere out there is someone, the right one, waiting for you. Someone who will help you find the way…”
He exhaled loudly and shook his head, but he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. The undying belief of his friend never ceased to amaze him. A friend… How strange that word sounded to him a year ago, and now he couldn’t imagine his world without Vincent’s irregular calming company, wisdom and care.
Elliot walked back to his desk to pour himself another glass of whisky and go over the paperwork of his latest project. But his hand stopped midway.
No. Enough. Remember, the balance.
He turned off the lamp and walked out of the office, closing the door behind him. Halloween night was still in full swing when Elliot Burch lay down in his bed. And for the first time in days, he fell into a peaceful and resting sleep.
※※※※※
NOVEMBER - Stay With Me
Catherine was rushing through the hospital corridors that late November afternoon. The grey, miserable rainy day mirrored her feelings inside as she was looking for the room number that the nurse at the reception told her. When she finally found it, carefully, she pushed the door open.
In the white, almost too sterile-looking room of the ICU unit, there was only one bed. Sitting next to it, staring at the cardiac monitor, was District Attorney Joe Maxwell, Catherine’s best friend in the world Above. His face was as white as a sheet, and the usual warm and twinkling brown eyes were lifeless, staring at the little monitor behind the bed. Catherine knew the unconscious woman in the bed at once.
“Joe… I came as soon as we got the message. What happened?” she asked softly, putting her hand on her friend’s shoulder.
“I guess the official term is shot in the line of duty.” The attorney’s voice was very strained.
“How??”
Joe sighed, stood up from his chair and walked over to the window. He ran a hand over his hair in an automatic gesture.
“She was following a lead on her latest case. As always, she was right in putting the puzzle pieces of the case together correctly. Unfortunately, this time, in her judgement of the main suspect, she underestimated her opponent and didn’t take her gun. She had a backup, but they entered the place only once they heard shots. When she tried to run away from him, she got a bullet in her back and lost a lot of blood until they brought her to the hospital… They caught the wretch as his car broke down when he tried to flee. Not that it makes any difference.” Joe shook his head. “Would you believe that? To be shot by such an idiot!”
A sense of déja vue came over Catherine along with the chill from hearing what had happened. Five years earlier, it was her, lying in bed in the ICU unit after having been shot in the back, and someone else was watching over her…
“I’m so sorry, Joe,” she spoke quietly. “How is she?”
Her former boss chuckled in a desperate attempt not to break down.
“The doctors did what they could. They say it’s up to her now.
Catherine sighed and walked over to her friend. She conjured a piece of folded paper out of her jacket pocket.
“Vincent asked me to give this to you,” she said, passing the paper to him.
Joe took it and opened a handwritten note. Even he knew by now the writer’s trademark style.
Don’t lose hope; she will lead you home. V.
He folded and pocketed the note with a small smile.
“That husband of yours, Radcliffe… “ He shook his head, chuckling.
“I know,” Catherine replied with a smile. “That’s why I married him.”
When she embraced Joe, trying to support him in any way a friend can, the attorney sighed and closed his eyes. Suddenly, he was overcome by fatigue.
＊
The first thing she noticed when she opened her eyes, was the blinding sun above her. Carefully, she sat up and looked around. She was sitting in what looked like a fishing boat, slowly floating on a calm, glittering lake surrounded by a colourful forest. A long rope kept the boat bound to a pole on the nearby shore. It was long, but its tension was considerable, and it could snap any minute.
“Yes, it is very frail.” A familiar gravelly voice spoke behind her.
Diana turned around, still sitting.
”Vincent?” Her astonishment was obvious. “Why am I here? And how did you get here?” she asked.
The lion-man was standing on the other side of the boat, not far from her. With his majestic figure hidden in the trademark long cloak and the hood over his head, he reminded her of Charon, the ferryman from the ancient Greek myths, bringing the dead to the Underworld.
“Do you remember what happened to you?” Vincent asked.
Diana’s big eyes narrowed in concentration.
“I was shot in the back when being out on a case,” she spoke. An idea crossed her mind, and she looked up to Vincent again. “Am I dead?”
“No.” Vincent smiled. “But you are at a crossroads where you have to choose which path to follow - to life or death.”
His words amazed her, but even more so his presence.
“Why are you here? Are you in danger as well?” she asked worriedly.
“I am only the product of your imagination. For some time now, your mind has been struggling with a decision about something, and your subconsciousness reached out for the person whose judgement you trust the most.”
Vincent’s eyes were calm and eloquent, and Diana understood immediately what “something” her friend was referring to.
“You have to make a decision soon, Diana,” Vincent continued. “Your life may depend on it. And Joe’s.”
Hearing the name, Diana jerked slightly. For a few weeks now, her mind had been at war with her heart - something she wasn’t used to.
Her relationship with Joe Maxwell was not a romantic one, but she felt they were more than just friends and occasional colleagues. The signs of his affection for her did not go unnoticed by Diana, although they were always very subtle, almost unnoticeable to anyone else. But the detective could read people’s minds better than anyone else.
For over a year, they were dancing around becoming something closer. Joe asked her out for dinner a few times, and she agreed, but they never reached the next step. Every time Joe would attempt to move further, Diana took a step backwards. As if the mere thought of a romantic relationship was something that frightened her. Or was it the thought of the same man having romantic feelings for the woman who had become her friend? No, Joe was long past that. She knew this was about her own state of mind, her own feelings, her own fear.
“What are you afraid of, Diana?” Vincent’s soft voice broke the brief silence between them.
“I’m not sure,” she answered truthfully and shrugged her shoulders. “If I… Is this the place where I stay if I don’t make it?” The serenity of nature around her suddenly didn’t seem like a bad place to stay forever.
Vincent shook his head. “This place is only in your mind. You created it to find somewhere to focus, collect your thoughts… to fight your fear.”
Diana sighed and looked absently into the distance.
“I wish I knew how,” she spoke quietly. “I analyse other people’s thoughts for a living, but when it comes to my own, I’m not worth even a penny.”
“You do know how,” Vincent countered. “But your rationality gets in the way. All you have to do is put it away for once and use the only thing that matters in this case.”
“My heart,” Diana said, making Vincent smile again.
“I always knew you were a smart woman.”
She chuckled, shaking her head.
“It’s all so easy for you… You wear your heart on your sleeve, but I’m not like you. I could never do that, I was never… raised like that. In my family, people usually shut their hearts from each other and pretended it was an inconvenience.”
Vincent observed her for a moment before speaking again.
“And yet, you did open your heart before.”
Diana lifted her eyes back to him. “To Mark?”
“Him, as well,” Vincent replied, and his eyes spoke clearly.
Lowering her eyes, Diana smiled a little. “Yes,” she admitted quietly.
When she thought about the time she fell for Vincent, strangely, there were no bittersweet feelings anymore. The extraordinary man from the underground appeared in her life at a time filled with uncertainty about her personal life. And although it was not their destiny to become anything more than friends (though Diana cherished this friendship more than any she had ever had), Vincent opened a new horizon for her, one that she never thought she might strive for.
And now, there was Joe… The first man in an important position who had never misused his status and always treated everyone fairly. He was as rational as Diana but possessed deep empathy and mostly hidden softness, which was more and more attractive to her. His loyalty to his friends, his work and to good causes was something that Diana deeply admired. Understandably, for she shared the same principles. Joe had a painful past, but his heart was equal only to the man standing in front of her.
“You have opened your heart and were ready to love fully before, Diana,” Vincent spoke again. “Fear has kept you at bay for way too long. You brought so much happiness to other people’s lives; now it is time for you to take the next step forward and have your own share of a happy life. There is no reason for you to hold back now when you feel love again.”
Her surprised look made him chuckle.
“I only speak out your own thoughts,” he said. “Remember, I exist only in your mind.”
Unable to reply, the detective was looking at him wide-eyed, noticing the outlines of his figure fading slowly.
“Follow your heart, Diana, you must…”
Vincent’s words echoed over the lake when he disappeared from her sight completely, and then suddenly, she heard the rope binding the boat to the shore snap.
＊
“Diana… Diana, it’s me, Joe…”
Opening her eyes was more difficult than she thought; her eyelids felt heavy like lead.
“Joe…” she whispered, her throat feeling constricted and her mouth dry.
Finally, her effort was rewarded, and though slightly blurred at first, she took in the sight of the man at her bedside. His beaming smile was more than eloquent.
“You gave us a real scare,” he said with unmasked happiness. As if caught in the act, his face turned serious. “What the Hell were you thinking, Bennett? Never leave your gun at home when going to interview a criminal!”
Diana closed her eyes again and chuckled.
“I missed you, too,” she said and looked at him again. Her vision was clear again, and judging by the rings under Joe’s eyes, he had not slept for a couple of days.
“Just… don’t ever do that again,” he said, and the familiar warmth returned to his brown eyes again.
“I won’t. I can’t,” she said and slowly reached for his hand. “I believe I have a date with a District Attorney, and I don’t want to miss that.”
Joe’s eyes widened, and an incredulous but heartfelt smile appeared on his face.
“I believe you are right,” he said softly, and his fingers ran tenderly through the waves of her red hair.
※※※※※
DECEMBER - Love Me
“I come bearing gifts… or rather an invitation,” Catherine chirped when she peeked into Elliot’s office that morning, three days before Christmas Eve.
Elliot smiled, always happy to see his dear friend and dropped the pencil he was working with on some blueprints.
“It must be a rather special one when my secretary let you enter without announcing you.” He chuckled.
“I’ve got my means,” Catherine grinned and walked over to his desk, sitting down in the modern armchair facing the owner of the office.
“So I see. So, to what do I owe this pleasure?"
Catherine dropped the cheerful tone and turned a bit more serious.
“You mentioned you have no plans for Christmas this year, that you’ve mostly been spending it alone in the past few years. So…” Catherine hesitated a little. “Vincent and I talked to Father, and he was more than happy to agree."
“With what?” Elliot asked, puzzled.
“To invite you for dinner with all of us on Christmas Eve,” she replied with a genuine smile.
To say Elliot Burch was shocked would be an understatement. He was stunned.
“Are you serious?” he stuttered.
“Have I ever been anything but?” Catherine asked in return, her eyebrows raised.
“I’m… I’m sorry, Cathy, I just... “ He smiled shyly. “It’s just that I thought I would be the last person to be invited into your world on such a… private occasion.”
His friend’s smile widened. “You mean, family occasion,” she said.
“Well, yes…” Elliot replied, still stunned.
“Just over a year ago, I would have thought the same,” Catherine chuckled and shook her head. “But… times they are changing. Vincent has become very fond of you; others like your dedication as a Helper, and Father is a big fan of your chess playing.”
Elliot laughed. “You mean my constant losing.”
“Let’s put it this way, apart from Devin, you’re the only one who Father knows he can beat anytime,” she laughed as well. “Besides, Vincent can always give you some lessons; you know he’s… quite a good player.”
Her grin made him laugh again. ”Yes, quite a good player,” he repeated and paused for a moment. “And you?”
Catherine lowered her eyes and smiled before looking up again.
“And I am happy to have a good friend like you, Elliot, one that I always hoped you could be.”
The developer’s eyes softened with gratitude.
“You know, I’m glad we got to this stage, Cathy. I never thought I could bear seeing you with any other man than myself but…”
“But then you got to know Vincent,” Catherine finished for him, smiling.
“Exactly,” Elliot exhaled, and his eyes twinkled. “That husband of yours is something else,” he said, shaking his head in wonder.
“Joe said the same,” Catherine replied with a beaming smile. She couldn’t help but be even more proud of Vincent than she had ever been. The man she loved with every fibre of her being had indeed the power to bring out the best in every decent person.
“All right,” Elliot boomed suddenly. “Count me in; I’ll be there. Shall I bring anything? Champagne? Caviar? A million for pipes refurbishment?”
Catherine laughed wholeheartedly. “Only yourself. I’ll meet you at the usual place at six.”
She got up and with a cheerful “See you then.” She walked out of the office.
It took Elliot a few more minutes until he was able to wipe the grin off his face.
＊＊＊
The long tables in the Great Hall were loaded with delicacies on Christmas Eve, carefully chosen by William and most of them graciously provided by the Helpers. Children were after the best cookies on the tables. The infamous pet racoon, Arthur, was after the leftovers on the abandoned plates. Mouse was after Arthur. The Tunnels fiddle players were spreading cheer with Christmas carols while people were chatting or dancing.
“I hope Diana is feeling better,” Mary said with her typical motherly concern.
“She is much better, apparently,” Catherine remarked with a smile. “I will see her again before New Year’s Eve. Joe is looking after her better than the best hotel could. They are spending the whole Christmas holidays together; Joe took a few extra days off.”
“The perks of being the District Attorney and your own boss,” Elliot said with a knowing smile.
Devin’s smile turned into a grin.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if their Christmas holiday together stretched out well into the new year,” he said, drawing a smile out of everyone. The private matters of their friends were not discussed publically in the tunnels; it didn’t mean, though, people were blind to them.
“They both deserve some moment of peace and calm after all they’ve been through,” Vincent spoke with his soothing baritone.
“Very much so; it was very close for a moment…” Catherine shuddered at the memory from barely a month ago. The image of her friend in the hospital bed, on the verge of saying goodbye to this world, was still fresh in her mind.
“She is in the best hands.” Vincent gently caressed her hand, which he was holding. “I dare say she is,” Catherine acknowledged with a smile and leaned against her husband’s shoulder.
So am I…
Jacob raised his glass, filled with fine red wine and nodded towards Elliot.
“Thank you for such an exquisite drink, Elliot. I haven’t had a fine wine like this since the year Peter’s daughter graduated from college. He was so happy he was willing to go bankrupt, celebrating the happy occasion.” He chuckled.
Elliot smiled and nodded back. “You’re most welcome; it’s the least I could do after your generous invitation.”
“We are all happy to have you with us, Elliot,” Vincent added honestly.
“When you say it, Vincent, it means even more,” the developer replied genuinely.
Devin laughed suddenly, making everyone turn their heads to him.
"Sorry, I just… “ His eyes were smiling when he shook his head. “Just a few years ago, Vincent was an only child, and now, he has three brothers.”
"Son, brother, father, lover, friend. There is room in the heart for all the affections, as there is room in heaven for all the stars (6)," Vincent quoted with a smile while putting a hand on Devin's shoulder.
"Joe was really kicking himself for not being able to come for the Winterfest this year," Catherine said. "But he and Diana still lit the candle Vincent brought them on the same day. It meant that much to them. And it was a lovely gesture from Vincent, despite knowing they were not able to come." She cast a loving look at the man by her side.
"They will have an opportunity to do so with us again next year," Jacob remarked. "Besides, I'm sure they are more than happy spending the holidays alone. Love doesn't necessarily need witnesses," he added knowingly, making everyone smile.
"No, it doesn't. Sometimes it's invisible even to those involved."
Everybody looked at Mary, who spoke with an almost painful voice. Suddenly very aware of herself, she shook her head and tried to cover her embarrassment with a nervous smile.
"I'm sorry, I think I better check on the children in the nursery." She stood up from her chair and fidgeted with her hands. "They had a hard time getting to sleep; they were so excited about tomorrow… Jamie was supposed to relieve Olivia earlier, but you know how it is; when she is with Mouse, she tends to lose track of time lately… I'll check on little Jacob and Charlie as well. Excuse me…"
After a quick smile and a passing look at the group when Catherine and Vincent thanked her, Mary hastily walked away.
An awkward silence fell upon the remaining members of the group at the table. Jacob kept staring in the direction where Mary had disappeared. Something inside him felt not right; the empty chair by his side suddenly caused a strange coldness to creep into his heart.
"Well, the cat's out of the bag, I guess," Devin said eventually, raising his brows.
"What do you mean?" Jacob asked, puzzled. As always, he was blind to the fact that had been clear to most people around him for a long time.
Vincent sighed and smiled at his parent.
"He means that you should speak with Mary, Father. There is something that you should know. Maybe…" He leaned closer to Jacob. "Maybe you will find out something about yourself, as well."
The tunnel patriarch looked into the wise, kind eyes of his adoptive son, noticing the enigmatic smile on his face. "I… I think you are right, Vincent," Jacob said hesitantly, glancing at the others watching him. They were all smiling.
Jacob stood up and set out to find Mary. The image of him accompanied by his old "friend", the walking stick, as he was rushing to speak with the woman, who had been his touchstone for almost forty years, warmed Vincent's heart.
"She has been there for him for so long, never backing off, never abandoning him, never judging him, even when Margaret and Jessica returned," Catherine contemplated, smiling warmly. "Always truthful and honest with him."
"Apart from that one thing that matters the most to her," Vincent added.
"Maybe he finally understood," Elliot said. He was moved by such a long-lasting devotion and Mary's inner strength of keeping her feelings for herself.
"Maybe all he needed was time," Vincent added.
"And a woman willing to wait for him." Catherine's knowing smile lit up his face when his blue eyes met her green ones. He couldn't resist and pressed a gentle kiss on her temple.
Elliot smiled, seeing the tender gesture. He was enjoying himself way more than he imagined he would that night. The holiday celebration in this magical world was so different to the glamorous parties in the world Above. And yet, he felt so much more comfortable with the people here, more than he had ever been with his clients or business partners. However, at that moment, he was briefly overcome by a bittersweet feeling of aloneness.
"You are never alone here, Elliot," he remembered Vincent's words to him from one of the first times when he visited the Tunnels. "Whenever you need a shelter, a safe place, a place of comfort, but most of all, whenever you need a friend, this is your place to go to. People here truly care about each other."
"Would you like to dance?" A sudden unexpected soft voice interrupted Elliot's silent contemplation.
He looked up from the table and saw a young woman, presumably in her late twenties, smiling at him. Her warm brown eyes, soft waves of chestnut-brown hair and genuine, sweet smile caught his interest. She wasn't what he would call a typical beauty, but there was something heartwarming about her, and the look in her eyes was honest and kind.
Elliot looked back at his friends - Catherine and Vincent were smiling; Devin was grinning. He looked back at the woman waiting for his answer.
"I… I would love to.."
He stood up and almost shyly took the woman's hand.
When they left the table, Elliot's friends were watching them for a moment.
"He can surely move better than I do," Devin remarked. "Remember, Vincent, how I used to step on Rebecca's toes all the time when the old man was trying to teach us how to waltz? She was only twelve then, was small, and I was tall and clumsy."
The brothers laughed at the memory from their childhood.
"You still have time to improve your skills, Devin," Vincent said, bemused. "Maybe if Rose is not too happy with Elliot, she might give you a chance, " he teased, making Catherine chuckle.
"As if that is ever going to happen," Devin countered with a doubtful expression on his face. "Since Rose has left the Tunnels for studies, she is surely more interested in successful men than in former frauds." He chuckled. "But I haven't seen you two on the dancefloor yet tonight."
Catherine's smile widened when she looked at her husband.
"We will surely not miss the next waltz."
Vincent didn't speak; the look he gave her was more than eloquent. His hand enveloped Catherine's, and the ever-present warmth at his heart, whenever he was in her nearness, touched his soul again. When she laid her head on his shoulder, he leaned his cheek against the top of her head and briefly closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and exhaling blissfully.
When Vincent opened his eyes again, he watched the people spread all around the Great Hall.
He saw Elliot immersed in a conversation with Rose over a drink (probably William's Christmas punch).
He saw Mouse chiding Arthur for sweeping the plates on the tables and Cullen approaching him with two plates loaded with a giant slice of William's Christmas cake each, offering Mouse one.
He saw the older children laughing around one of the tables while playing board games.
He saw his friends talking together, dancing, enjoying each other's company.
And he also saw Father, who had just returned to the Great Hall, holding Mary's hand and leading her to the dancefloor to brave his first (and rather awkward) dance in decades…
Vincent smiled and looked at Devin. His brother's face was serene and genuinely happy. They both shared a smile and a nod. And then, Vincent looked back at Catherine by his side. She looked up into his eyes with a beaming smile.
"Do you dance?" she asked, reminding him of the same question on her first Winterfest.
And just like back then, he didn't need to answer. His radiant smile did it for him as he stood up and offered Catherine his hand, which she accepted gratefully. And then, they forgot about the rest of the world around them, moving in their own world; a world that existed only in their hearts. A world where all the heartache from before, all the suffering, worries and pain were compensated by the one thing that is worth everything - love.
※※※※※
You and I can share the silence
Finding comfort together
The way old friends do
And after fights and words of violence
We make up with each other
The way old friends do
Times of joy and times of sorrow
We will always see it through
Oh I don't care what comes tomorrow
We can face it together
The way old friends do… (7)
※※※※※
(6) Victor Hugo
(7) ABBA: The Way Old Friends Do
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