Violet's Mountain, page 1
Violet’s Mountain
H D Knightley
Contents
Copyright 2015 by H.D. Knightley
For Dad
Falling
1. Better left unsaid
2. What an adventure
3. Future here we come
4. You have me
5. She’s a loner
6. This place is my home
7. They’re a little attractive
8. We should invite them
9. I’d be happy to
10. She created that
11. No worries
12. You must have been young
13. Change can be good
14. She can be my girl
15. I’ll handle that too
16. It’s been a long day
17. Nothing but junk and trash
18. You want to save me
19. She makes the stars shine
20. No plan
21. Kind of disconcerting
Sliding
22. Don’t want to leave
23. Step back to the crowd
24. Other arrangements
25. It’s a good deal
26. Waiting like all of us
27. The signed papers
28. Fuzzy dark far away
29. Things going on
30. The mess here
31. New circumstances
32. Better things to do
33. I’ll come
34. Set for four
35. The whole world had shifted
Collapsing
36. Cleaning up someone’s mess
37. You aren’t here
38. Almost a year
39. Trouble responding
40. Wished he could go back
41. Becoming unrecognizable
42. She’s kind of a mystery
43. So happy for her
44. A different low view
45. She squinted at the sun
46. Nothing left to lose
47. Ocean-facing
48. We have plans
Also by H D Knightley
About me, H.D.Knightley
Acknowledgments
More…
Copyright 2015 by H.D. Knightley
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For Dad
As we stood hand in hand
I found in the sky a soaring bird
High above the sand
Circling against the sun.
Her downward gaze perhaps
Picked us out
In the surge of surf
As we rode the waves
To the shallows.
The sun’s rays dazzled our eyes
And she became magnified,
Her feathers outlined.
In the skies circling over ocean and land,
We felt its eyes sweep beyond us
Towards a large dune further down the beach.
Her circle included the dune,
Sand, ocean, and us,
Against the sun her black silhouette wheeled.
—D. C. Cushman
Falling
Better left unsaid
Violet watched the last sliver of sun collapse below the horizon as a tear rolled down her cheek. She hadn't cried at sunset for a while, so it was unusual—now, but not always—there was a time not so long ago when she cried through every sunset. "I miss you mom," her words floated out on her breath, mingled with the offshore breeze and swirled in her aural eddy, before flinging away behind her, headed who knows where. Traveling away.
This was Violet's nightly ritual and usually ended at the moment of the sun's last glimmer, but tonight she lingered. She looked to the north; her view stretching for miles. She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand and looked behind to the east and then up, the sky filling with stars as she watched, the night unfurling across the sky. Her gaze followed it's movement west, toward the ocean, and down, way way down below, to the sleepy beach town nestled in the dunes. There was a time, years ago, when she would go there, to shop, visit, play, but not anymore. Now she just...
"I wish something would change." As soon as she said it she regretted it. This wasn't a time for wants and wishes and dreams, for selfish thoughts, she had duties and musts and shoulds— "I wish something would change!" Her words echoed around in the upper atmosphere, better left unsaid, but she had said them. So there.
She was Violet Winslow and she had work to do and she would do it without grumbling but still, "I wish something would change, anything, maybe." She sighed and added, "Actually, forget I said anything Dear Sun, don't worry yourself on my account. You have plenty to do. Have a nice sleep and I'll see you tomorrow." She clicked on a spotlight, dropped her helmet's visor to shield her face, and ignited her welding torch. She aimed the tip of her flame at a point where steel met steel and an arc of sparks glittered away.
What an adventure
Edmund and Benjamin Hawkes checked the live-cams aimed at their favorite surf spot—conditions were perfect, so without uttering a word they implemented the Perfect Waves Contingency Plan—Edmund packed towels, wax, and wetsuits, and Benjamin raided the kitchen for food and packed a cooler. Then they met in the ‘studio’ to gather their boards, so that everything could be loaded into the van.
That’s where they happened to be, waxing their boards, a surf video projected on the wall theater, talking excitedly about the day’s plans, when their parents, Joe and Michelle Hawkes, swept into the room.
Joe asked, “Boys, where are you going?”
Edmund said, “Surfing, Dad, want to come?”
Benjamin said, “We have extra boards. We’d be happy to give you pointers.”
“I can’t, you know, it makes me feel sea sick, but never mind, why don’t you both come to the house. We have some things to um, discuss.”
Edmund asked, “Couldn’t we do it here, we...” He looked down at his board, only half-waxed.
Joe glanced around the studio—at the towering boat, two jet skis, five paddleboards, two kayaks, twelve surfboards, refrigerator, couch, workhorses, shelves and shelves of camping equipment, and the blasted surf videos playing extra-large, running all day long and most nights too.
Joe said, “No, this conversation requires a bit more comfort.”
“Oh.” Edmund left his bar of wax on the board and followed Benjamin and their parents to the house and into the second parlor. The one decorated to seem casual, yet stuffy enough to impress guests, and way too grand to promote any comfort at all. Edmund began to sit, but Michelle tut-tutted and put a towel over the couch first.
“Mom, I’m not wet.”
“Sand,” she said pointedly.
“Sons, your mother and I have decided it’s time for you to seek your way in the world.”
This was a big declaration, a humongous declaration, and left Benjamin and Edmund staring confused.
Joe said, “We decided it yesterday, when we followed you to the beach to watch you surf. Your love of this water sport is positively ruining us.”
“Look at us, I’ve put on ten pounds watching you splash around in the water,” said Michelle. “I’m getting no exercise at all. I lie around eating, losing my figure.”
“But Mom, there’s lots of things you can do at the beach—”
“Oh please, you know I love lifting weights, how would I do that at the beach? Heavy things sink in the sand, and digging them out would ruin my fingernails. Think.”
“But—”
“And your father loves rock climbing, he has filled the back acres of this estate with climbing walls, yet you boys go to the beach every day. Your father has nothing to climb at the beach, you know it’s true.”
Michelle continued, “I love you, I bore you, I fed you. I taught you almost everything you know, and now you’re twenty, um something, Edmund, a month away from your birthday.”
“Nineteen,” said Edmund.
“Yes, yes.”
Benjamin said, “I’m only eighteen…”
“Edmund is almost twenty, and you’re very advanced for your age. I’ve been aware of it since you were a toddler and playing with your little figure-thingies.”
“What your mother is trying to say is we want the best for you, but it’s also time for us to get our own lives back. It’s not fair to expect us to lie on the beach reading books. I’ve read through every book on Naval history and your mother just hopes for a heavy piece of driftwood to wash up on the beach. We’ve decided you should seek your fortune starting tomorrow morning.”
Edmund squinted his eyes, “I have a fortune. An enormous fortune. I’m to receive it on my twenty-first birthday, and then get the rest when you, my apologies Dad, die. What, exactly am I seeking?”
Michelle raised her hands. “You’re seeking notoriety, celebrity, acclaim, of course! No one even knows you exist. How will you be memorable if you aren’t famous for something?”
Edmund stared bewildered at Michelle, so Benjamin asked, “What are we going to be famous for?”
Joe said, “That’s what you’re seeking. You see, this is what we’re talking about. I was watching you splash around in the water yesterday and realized you have no
Michelle said quietly to Joe, as if their sons had gone deaf and couldn’t hear them, “Of course we have no one to blame but ourselves. We should have pushed them to be people of consequence. You let Edmund play around pretending to be a businessman. What does one do with that kind of education, I ask you?”
Joe said to Michelle, “And don’t even get me started on Benjamin.”
Michelle said with a well-practiced sigh, “I dreamt they would want to be sports stars, or rockstars, or models. Somebody important, who does things, and is recognized when they zoom by in their limos.”
“Our limo windows are pretty dark,” said Edmund. “You bought them like that precisely to keep us from being recognized.”
Joe ignored Edmund’s point and continued his sideline conversation with Michelle, “But the final straw was the other day. Edmund talked about opening a surf shop with his inheritance and Benjamin said he would work for him and in his own words, ‘Teach surf lessons or something.’”
Michelle turned to her sons and said, “Teach surf lessons! Look at you Edmund, tall, lovely smile, the sun-bleached ends on your brown hair, those wide shoulders. I always assumed you’d be a rockstar.”
“I’m not musical,” he said. “Benjamin plays guitar.”
“Well, the guitar players are never as famous as the singers. And look at you, so handsome! Go to the city and lead a band. I figure three years and you’re playing stadiums. That’s what we mean, seek your fortune.”
Edmund and Benjamin conferred with each other silently.
Benjamin asked, “And what do you propose I do, carry Edmund’s microphone around?”
Michelle said, “Not at all! You’re taller by an inch and with your blonde hair and easy smile you should be a model. But you both need to wear something besides surf shorts and flip-flops.”
“So Edmund is a rockstar and I’m a male model? I don’t want to be a male model, I want to stay here. My friends are here.”
Joe and Michelle glanced at each other. “This is what we mean, you boys need to find your own way, show some incentive. Plus, you aren’t considering our needs. We haven’t had a date in days and the last time we went away on a romantic vacation? Weeks.”
Edmund blew out a large puff of air and attempted to understand from a different direction, he asked, “What were you doing Dad, when you were my age?”
“I moved into the new mansion that my father had built for me and—wait a second—that’s immaterial. I worked hard for everything that was given to me. I worked at the company when I was of age.”
Edmund said, “I’d be happy to work at the company. Can I start tomorrow?”
“No. No. No. There are people to do that for us. How would it be to have someone from the family working at the company? There’s no need, besides it’s a waste of your talents.”
Benjamin and Edmund sighed, they weren’t as practiced at sighing as their mother, but they gave it a good try. Benjamin said, “Edmund is an old guy, perhaps he could go on his own. I’m the baby of the family. I’m pretty sure you have to let me stay while I decide what I want to do. It’s only fair.”
“How will Edmund make it on his own? You’re to accompany him while he seeks his fortune, it’s your duty as a younger brother.”
Edmund leaned forward. “What if we surfed competitively? We’ll stay here and promise we’ll get famous for surfing. It would be a win-win.”
“Well, that’s impossible, because we’ve decided to start a bed and breakfast here. The ladies at the club told your mother that B&Bs are very hip now, and so we’ve ordered the sign already.”
Michelle said, “We’re calling it The Home Is Where The Heart Is Bed And Breakfast. It’s been a long dream of mine and this seemed like the best time to get started.”
Edmund said, “You’re renting out my wing of the house?”
“We have to redecorate first, but yes, ostensibly.”
Michelle added, “You can visit anytime, call ahead for a reservation.”
Benjamin and Edmund stared dumbfounded at their parents. Edmund wondered how he could talk them out of this, was it money they wanted? Or an agreement? What would make them reconsider? He wondered if he should call Anderson and Silvers the family’s polite lawyers; perhaps they would step in with his parents, talk them out of this foolhardy plan?
Benjamin asked, “And you don’t care what we do, where we go, or what we accomplish? We can go anywhere, do anything, just leave?”
Michelle said, “I don’t know if I would make it sound quite so dire, but yes, you leave tomorrow morning. I’ll have Mrs. Monroe pack your bags this afternoon.”
The family continued to stare at each other for a few more minutes before Joe stood and said, “Okay honey, would you like to attend me out on the estate? I feel a climb is in order.”
“Certainly dearest, I’ll have Johnson carry down my new barbells, I could use a lift.”
Michelle and Joe left the parlor with a sweep and Edmund and Benjamin remained sitting on their towel-covered chairs staring into space.
After there was no chance of their parents returning, Edmund broke the silence, “What brought this on?”
“I don't know, but we’ve been kicked out of our home. Could we not leave, just refuse?”
“No. We’re going. I’m not someone to stay where I’m not wanted.”
Benjamin said, “Damn, I guess today’s surf is out of the question if we—do we leave in the morning? Where to?”
“They mentioned the city, but I’m going west. Straight to the coast, then we can head north. Along the beach.” Edmund spoke in monotones, his body unmoving. “Pack your longboard. And your short. At least three boards.”
Benjamin said, “Will we have a driver?”
Edmund said, “Not a driver. I’ll see if I can find a truck. Bring your camping stuff.”
He continued to stare into space while Benjamin said, “Okay” and walked upstairs to gather his things.
Edmund and Benjamin didn’t see Joe or Michelle the rest of the day. Right before dinner their parents messaged that they had decided to “eat out that night with the Periwinkles” and “not to wait up” and they would “breakfast together before the boy’s trip.” Edmund and Benjamin dined and discussed their plans. Edmund had bought a truck. Benjamin had gathered the tent and chairs, and they debated all the other toys. Benjamin said, “We need our jet skis, how else will we tow in? And our boat? We’re leaving it?”
Edmund took a deep breath. “Yep, it’s time to simplify. Time to say goodbye.”
They instructed Mrs. Monroe to unpack the businesslike suitcases she had packed and instead stuff their clothes into rucksacks. Mostly t-shirts. They promised her if they needed fancy going-out clothes they would call and have them shipped. Mrs. Monroe extracted a promise they wouldn’t gallivant around the city in flip-flops and surf shorts, and they would dedicate their first song to her. She said a tearful goodbye to the young men she had known for almost a year.
The following morning Michelle greeted them warmly, “What an adventure you’re embarking on today! I’m so happy for you both!”
Edmund and Benjamin stared at her stunned.
Joe said, “Have some eggs, you’ll need your strength for your travels.” Edmund took four heaping spoonfuls of scrambled eggs, Benjamin took six.
“So you’re headed into the city?”
Edmund said, “Eventually, by way of Tunnels.”
“What exactly is Tunnels?”
“A point break west of here. It should take us five days, scenic route.”
“Well, that is not what your father and I had in mind. We thought you would go to the city and start a band. We talked it all through yesterday!”
“You talked it through yesterday. Ben and I decided we’re going on one big surf trip. By truck. We’ll stay in tents.” Edmund chewed, eyes focused on the butter dish.
“How will you find yourself, seek your fortune, on a beach? You’re wasting this opportunity we’ve given you. You’ll only find a beach bum at the end.”
Edmund stood, threw his napkin on the table, and said, “Father, Mother, we’re off. See you someday. Hope your bed and breakfast is a smashing success.”
