Date: Tue, 3 Jul 2007 11:29:09 -0700 (PDT) From: crispin emrys Subject: Crispin-and-Zephyr/Part-1-Crispin/Chapter-6-revised This series of fictional stories are the product of my imagination. However, nothing happens in a vacuum. Like most fiction, it is based on real people I have met, places and events I have seen. The Prologue and Chapters 1-13 appeared on Nifty this winter. They have been extensively revised (especially Prologue and Chapter 13) and Chapter 13 has been completed. I will post two per week then continue with Chapter 14. It may be against the law to read where you are because of its content or your age. Or you may feel uncomfortable reading it because of the belief systems you have accepted. Follow the dictates of your heart. If you do read this series, I hope you enjoy it. When this five part story is completed, it will have told the tale of one boy and one man and how their intimate relationship and love for each other led to the creation of a modern day legion of boy knights. These knights errant became young champions of human and social rights and defenders of the weak and the downtrodden. These Boy Knights of the Green Republic reveal the true meaning, purpose and power of boyhood. You may be aware of the etymology of the word knight, that it is derived from the Old English cniht, meaning page boy, or servant, or simply boy. Knighthood, as in the Old English cnihthad, had the meaning of adolescence, that most intriguing period between childhood and manhood. In this sense every boy is a knight, and in my estimation a potential knight errant. Copyright 2007 Crispin Emrys. All Rights Reserved. This series may be displayed on any website so long as no money is charged for access and attribution is retained. Just ask permission first. Thanks. This project is dedicated to Guy Davenport, a gentle genius and unsurpassed writer of short stories who died in 2005, to every Crispin and Zephyr in this or any other world, and to you the reader that you may be encouraged by it. I am Crispin Emrys at crispinemrys@yahoo.com. Please feel free to contact me. I always enjoy hearing from readers. Index for Part I -- Crispin February 1999 Chap 1 -- Robbie 1 Chap 2 -- Robbie 2 Chap 3 -- Call to Crispin from Gwen Powell-Jones Chap 4 -- Crispin agrees to visit Boulder March 1999 Chap 5 -- Plane Boy -- Cody Clarke [FYI: I realize that the flow of characters in and out of the story might cause some confusion, so here is the current cast as of this chapter. Ages are given for March, 1999.] Anna (Annie) Ulanova Rothko Aleksey (Alex, Alyosha, Alyoshka) 13 Michael (Misha, Mishka) [1983-1996] Robbie 15 Summer -- mother 32 Tanner[1984-1998] [15] Adam -- brother 10 Gwendolyn Powell-Jones Cullen "Cully" Powell 23 Major Theresa (Terri) Clarke 35 Jonathan Cody Clarke 11 Uncle Billy 33 Paul 22 Crispin and Zephyr Part 1 - Crispin Chapter 6 -- Revised March 1999 Boulder, Colorado 'Where is all of this taking me?' Cris wondered as he stood at the Denver Airport next to the covered pick up lane waiting for Gwen to arrive. This one lone thought started an avalanche of related thoughts that Cris began to at least consider as fast as they tumbled into his consciousness. 'Am I really willing to give serious consideration to Gwen's offer?' he asked himself. 'And if I do take it this job, is it really possible to make such huge change so late in my life? It would mean literally starting over from scratch professionally, socially, in every imaginable way. And what about Robbie? Clearly my commitment to him seems to be growing in spite of myself. How does that fit into this mix?' Cris shivered in the brisk air in spite of the warmth of his leather jacket. 'And the weather, come to think of it,' his thoughts continued. 'After twenty years living in California can I make it through these heavy winters? Would I want to?' He had probably seen snow twice while in the Bay Area, and that was just a dusting Anytime he wanted snow he drove into the Sierras. 'And how long is winter here anyway?' Slowly he shook his head, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was just not sure about the answers to any of these questions; he wasn't even sure if these were the right questions to be asking. Since he just did not know how this was going to play out for him, he decided he would take each day of his visit as it came with an open mind and not get so caught up in analyzing everything and trying to fit it together. 'A vacation is to enjoy, right?' Once he had made this decision, he relaxed. As he waited, his thoughts drifted back to his one other visit to Colorado. It was in the summer of 1969, a time social and political upheaval everywhere. The counter culture was making gigantic inroads into the way people thought and acted. Drugs abounded. There were serious political divisions as opposition to the Vietnam War began to openly challenge the government. During much of this chaotic time Cris had been living where he had grown up, Washington, DC, the very heart of the American beast. There he met some like-minded young anarchist and together they published the Washington Free Press, an radical underground newspaper of some repute. 'Funny!' Cris thought to himself and chuckled. ' Just like I am now, I was looking for a way out of life's troubles.' After what seemed like forever speaking out against the War, racial injustice, oppression, in fact calling into question the whole inhumane 'System', he and his friends had reached their emotional and psychological limit. This group of committed brothers and sisters tried to live out their radical reworking of American society every day. It just seemed to get harder and harder to keep up the pace. Exhaustion was setting in. In response the core group, although called a collective in the political jargon of the day, was really more of a close-knit family. They had experienced a lot together over the past few years and felt they had done all they could for now and were wanted out. They now hoped for a new beginning for themselves. So, they pooled their money and purchased an old school bus in Maryland. It had been converted into something a family could manage to live in, equipped with small kitchen and a pot bell stove for heat, though no air conditioning. They kept it a school bus orange, hoping to blend in somewhat, even though a stovepipe stuck out one of the windows and the bus was usually filled with a dozen long haired youths. United by years of struggle and hope for the future, this family began a cross country trek searching for a new home away from the brutal pressures of urban living and what had become the almost daily confrontations with the repressive authorities. When they drove into Colorado, thirty years ago, they were on their way south into New Mexico. Their goal was to find some land in the mountains that was both beautiful and isolated enough so that they could live in relative freedom, grow some of their own food and be less dependent on the capitalist economic system. They hoped to then renew their spirits and plan their next moves. In the end it didn't quite work out that way, at least for Cris. But that is another story all together. They had stopped in Colorado to renew their spirits after a long journey across the mid-west. They hoped to earn some badly needed cash in Boulder. Cris remembered they had parked the school bus along with their trusty companion VW van at a very scenic camp ground in the mountains somewhere above Boulder. He could not recall the name. It must have been July or August, because there was no snow except very high in the mountains and it was blazing hot in Denver. And it was so incredibly smoggy in that city that it seemed more like LA. They camped about three weeks and either took day long hikes into the mountains or commuted into Boulder to sell hand made leather goods, which turned out to be a very profitable venture. More than anything else, he vividly recalled the absolutely pristine beauty of the alpine meadows carpeted with myriads of purple, blue, red, orange, yellow and white flowers. All of this color was strikingly juxtaposed against the gray granite of the immense and majestically rugged mountains. Framing all this natural beauty were the azure skies and huge story book clouds that would build up in the west along the Continental Divide to unbelievable heights. These clouds made the sunsets spectacular. He was dreamily recalling this Rocky Mountain grandeur when a horn blast broke his reverie, then he heard his name. Gwen pulled up in her silver BMW convertible, jumped out and ran over to Cris. "It is absolutely brilliant to see you again, Cris," she said giving him a great hug and kiss of welcome. "You look stunning and you sure have kept your youthful good looks. I am very impressed. How was your trip?" Hugging Gwen in return, Cris smiled warmly. "Actually, it was great. Met a really cute boy on the plane." Gwen laughed and nodded, "I am glad to hear that you are the still the same Crispin I left in San Francisco, what, nearly five years ago now. I have missed you so much, boys and all." Shaking his head, Cris laughed and as he laughed said, "Honestly, it seems like yesterday that we were working shoulder to shoulder tilting at windmills." Then taking a more serious air, Cris placed both hands on Gwen's shoulders and looked directly at her. "Oh, Gwen, you are one of my dearest friend, I can't tell you how great it is to see you again. I guess it has been that long. Wow, five years." Cris stepped back and looked admiringly at the car. "Hey, nice car, Gwen. What happened to your British wheels?" "The jag was getting pretty old and needed some major work, and I didn't like the styling of the new models. Anyway, you know how well those efficient Germans can build a car. Actually, I do have a Rover, which incidentally will yours to use while you're here. So I guess I am still supporting queen and empire, even if the damn company is owned by BMW now." Cris could not help smiling at Gwen as he looked her over. "Boy, you are looking very well yourself. I just can't get over it. Colorado certainly seems to agree with you." "It has been good for me, Cris. You are so kind to take note." She smiled warmly. "But enough of me. I am so tickled you could come for a visit. It will be wonderful to spend some time with you again. And I am really excited to share with you what we have been doing in the Boulder schools. And what we hope to accomplish should you decide to join us," Gwen added with a grin as Cris placed his luggage in the car's trunk. The forty minute trip to Boulder on a Saturday afternoon meant steady but not heavy traffic. Cris was a bit unnerved by the local habit of driving barely one car length behind the vehicle in front. Not really enough room to stop in an emergency. It seemed not to bother anyone because nearly everyone did it, including Gwen. Whenever the car in front slowed the least bit, Cris was pressing his right foot into the floor mat in a fruitless effort to slow down and back off. It seemed funny to him that this would make him nervous, as he had learned to drive on the daredevil freeways of southern California, back when the traffic moved that is. Finally, Cris forced himself to look out the side window to get his eyes off the road. The roads were clear of any snow, but there were substantial piles along the sides of the highway, the result of the work of the snow plows, Cris surmised. The surrounding fields had hardly any snow left and leaving the tops of last years grasses displaying their dry, feathery stalks. Gwen explained that unless it is a very heavy snow, the solar radiation at this altitude melts the snow quickly. "You probably don't know this," Cris spoke, "but I visited this area about thirty years ago. It has certainly grown, but it is still incredibly beautiful. But I remember air pollution being so bad. Not a problem any more?" Cris asked. Gwen explained that air pollution was actually more of a seasonal thing, summers being worse than winters. All the bad air gets trapped against the mountains by the prevailing winds and this is particularly bad in Denver which sits in a huge basin, very much like LA. The bad air had been a major issue of debate for decades until a few years back when some real efforts were initiated to address it. And restrictions and improvements had been made. "One is that there is a total ban on wood fires in Denver. Before the ban all the wood smoke in the winters from the fires used for heat and pleasure really hung close to the ground in the cold air. I guess it was very bad and pretty unhealthy. Banning them has really made a big difference during the winter months." "Gee, so much for a little snuggle by the cozy fireplace," Cris joked. Gwen laughed. "True, but it does seem a small sacrifice to make in order to be able to see the gorgeous scenery and still being able to breathe." Cris had to agree with her. As they drove closer to Boulder, Cris could not help but stare at the remarkable Flatirons that sat the foot of the mountains facing the edge of the plains to opened to the east. The Flatirons are the five very eye catching iconic sandstone slabs that seemed to have shot straight up out of the earth like gargantuan neolithic spearheads. It was next to the creek that flows out of Boulder Canyon against these massive rock formations that the city of Boulder had been established. Cris could not get over how the grandeur of these geologic wonders was amplified by the large patches of unmelted snow that surrounded them on the slopes that faced north. It was a picture postcard image of the dark rock framed by the stark white snow. After a few minutes of silence, Gwen looked over to Cris and asked, "Cris, tell me how Robbie is doing." "Golly. Thanks for asking, Gwen. He seems to be doing pretty well right now and I sort of feel he has really turned the corner with his grief. That sweet kid has gone through a lot, but he is one stolid laddie if ever I saw one." He told her of recent improvements in Robbie's emotional stability which matched his growing capacity to move beyond Tanner's death. He also described his close and caring relationship with Adam, which appeared to be so therapeutic for both of them. "I knew he would work this through. You have been a real support for him, Cris, a true friend," Gwen said. "And through it Robbie and I have become very close," Cris admitted to his friend. "Oh, really!" said Gwen in a gentle nonjudgmental tone "And how close should I ask?" said Gwen looking over at Cris, smiling. "Very physical and very intimate. But not sexually," Cris added quickly. "Still just very good friends. I hope to keep it that way, at least for now." Gwen nodded her head in understanding. "I imagine that it has not been easy, Cris. He is a very lovely and enchanting young man," Gwen said. "Yes, not easy. Quite hard.. And yes indeed, a real hot knockout," replied Cris, grinning. During the remainder of the journey Cris filled Gwen in on how some of their other mutual friends back in the Bay Area were doing. He also shared with her about his recent phone conversation with Alex and Annie and the contentment that the both of them seemed to have living in Vermont. He also passed on the warm words that Chipper asked him to share with Gwen and how supportive she had been for both Cris and Robbie, but particularly Cris. He shared that he was still troubled by the memory of Misha, like something etched deeply and indelibly on his heart and soul. She responded in her very wise and compassionate way, by making it very clear she understood but without offering advice. As they passed a sign for Boulder city limits, Gwen announced that they were getting close to her home. At the edge of the populated area, they turned off the highway onto a wide tree lined street and entered her neighborhood, in an older section of southeastern Boulder. Her home was one of many large, though not ostentatious, tastefully designed houses that blended nicely with the natural surroundings. Most were situated on extremely large lots that abounded in huge cottonwoods which were quite old, judging from their size. Gwen's home was a one story ranch style, typical of the block, with a roof line that had a slight slope, lower in the front than the rear, which faced to the east. This allowed for lofty ceilings and great expanses of windows looking eastward into the Great Plains. This construction also permitted the morning sun to light the house but blocked the searing afternoon rays in the summer. It was built of a dark beige sandstone which had weathered into a darker but warmer brown shade. The eaves, doors and window trim were painted in a very dark brown, which offered a nice color contrast. The house was situated on several acres and backed onto the undeveloped, free flowing South Boulder Creek. From the front yard looking to the west was a spectacular view of the both the Flatirons and the imposing Front Range just behind. the Front Range was the name given to that portion of the Rockies that was closest to the Great Plains. From the back of the house was an equally enticing, but more tranquil view, with the creek and its numerous cottonwoods in the foreground and the rolling plains stretching away into the eastern horizon as far as the eye could see. Gwen led the way into the house and showed Cris to the guest bedroom so he could drop off his luggage. The combination bedroom and sitting room was quite large and had its own bath. Nice. The room was located on southern end of the of the house and, like most of the major rooms, faced east. The wall that faced in that direction consisted of fixed glass windows that were about ten feet in height, constructed in three horizontally layered sections. The winter view looking downward into the creek and then over the tops of the leafless trees to the plains beyond was grand. Cris parked his things, freshened up and went to find Gwen who was in the kitchen preparing afternoon tea. They continued talking amiably over tea during which Cris shared about his meeting with Cody, what he was like and his intention to spend time with the marvelous boy on the following weekend. Gwen smiled at this. "Why am I not surprised, Cris? You are such a boy magnet. But I can never fault your taste." Cris looked at Gwen with puppy dog eyes. "You will love Cody, Gwen" he said in a quiet voice. "He is really something special. I hope you will have the chance to meet him" "What are your plans? Maybe you could invite him over. I would love to meet him. I know he's got to be pretty remarkable, if only judging from the light that shines in your eyes whenever you talk about him." Cris beamed. "Is it that obvious, Gwen?" He grew silent for some moments and then added, "Hmm, I miss him already." He sighed. "And I'm not sure what we'll do when we do get together. Any suggestions?" "Zoo, museum, movies. All very close in Denver, and all quite good. Maybe a drive up into the mountains?" "Those sound like some good ideas. What about hiking? I know he'd love that. Me, too, actually." "Well," offered Gwen, "this time of year it is on snowshoes. But I know some good spots just past Nederland, if you're interested. Its only a half hour drive up Boulder Canyon. I'll ask Rick at work. He lives up there and his kids practically live for hiking and camping in the Indian Peaks. And why don't you invite Cody to dinner here as well. That would give me a chance to meet him." "That sounds good, too. When I call Cody, I'll ask. All of that sounds like a lot of fun." Eventually the conversation turned to a discussion of the counseling position that Gwen was offering Cris. Over cocktails Gwen explained what she hoped could happen and how Cris would be a perfect fit to lead it. Cris was able to ask some of the questions he had at the back of his mind, and to each Gwen answered very favorably. It was looking like a real dream opportunity if Cris was still into helping kids work through what was shoved at them by this adult world. He silently wrestled with that one in his mind. He was just not sure. After a second round of drinks Gwen suggested that they head into Boulder for dinner and tour of the landmarks. Boulder, Gwen explained, controlled its growth and development with an iron hand. This keep it a more bite sized city. Nothing was very far away, mountains, Denver, up scale stores, a good library. After Gwen gave Cris an cook's tour of some of Boulder's landmarks, which, because it was a small city, did not take long, they headed off to a very popular East Indian dinner spot not far from the university. It was quite crowded considering that it was still very early Saturday evening, at least by California standards. And it was pretty lively, too. Fortunately they found a table in a quieter part of the restaurant and thoroughly enjoyed their meal and dinner conversation. Soon they were just chattering like friends who had not seen each other in a while. They topped the evening off with a drive up to NCAR, which Gwen pronounced "en-car". The National Center for Atmospheric Research is located in the southwestern corner of Boulder, just below the Flatirons. It is an important climate research facility which had been built high above Boulder on an isolated plateau and offered an absolutely stunning view of the surrounding area. This vista in the already frigid air of the early evening twilight was something to behold. There were the still barely-lighted-dark-gray-quickly-turning-black clouds to the west which outlined the darker and more intimidating shadowy shapes of the mountains below them. There were the twinkling lights that peppered the plains to the east as far as the eye could see. And there was this huge aura of brightness toward the southeast that indicated the location of Denver, only twenty-five miles away. They stood together enthralled by the spectacular view until they just got too cold, then headed back to the car. They drove back to Gwen's, less than fifteen minutes away, had a nightcap, chatted a bit more, then Cris headed off to bed. He read a bit from the collection of Davenport essays that he had planned to read on the plane, just to unwind after such a stimulating day and then went to bed. As he lay there thoughts easily tumbled through his mind: moving to Boulder, Cody, Robbie, Mishka. The next thing he knew, the risen sun was streaming light in through the large bank of windows. Cris got up, washed, dressed and found Gwen at the kitchen table reading the Sunday Times. "Morning, Gwen," Cris said in a chipper voice as he poured himself a cup of the strong coffee. "Sleep well?" asked Gwen. "Like a log. It was wonderful. And such a lovely morning," Cris said as he sipped the rich, dark coffee and looked out at the massive leafless trees whose tops were now bathed in the white-yellow morning sunlight. Gwen smiled. "I thought we could go to the annual spring art fair today in Boulder. It's an effort to get a hold of some of that Texas money that is in town this week. Actually, there are usually some pretty nice things to look at and I always end up buying something I don't really need, but really like. The weather is supposed to be quite warm today even for March, maybe up into the low 50s. Spring weather is close, maybe a month away. Anyway, the fair is held just above the Pearl Street Mall, which is fun to visit. I guarantee that you will enjoy it." And so they went to the fair. They had a lot of fun walking around in the pleasant weather along the pedestrian mall. This was once Pearl Street but which had been closed to traffic and turned into a nicely arranged shopping area several blocks long, chock full of shops and kiosks and people. The art fair was on Pearl Street above the mall, the street having been blocked off for this event, and was housed in many large heated tents. Some of the art was quite interesting, some remarkable, designed by artists and craftspeople from all of the country. Cris was very taken by the the New Mexico pueblo pottery, especially the black pots from San Ildefonso and Santo Domingo. He was so taken by a couple of pieces that he purchased them. But these were not the only lovely creations that Cris was able to enjoy. It being spring break in Texas, there were many Texan boys in town with their families on ski vacations or visiting relatives. Many more, of course, stayed in the expensive winter lodges of Vail or Aspen for the week, but there were still plenty of others who stayed in the Denver area and commuted to the local ski haunts. It being a lovely weekend, the local boys were out and about as well. Some were quite eye catching. Cris found many objects of fancy, some quite stunning and flirtatious. Cris loved the opening moves of the dance with young boys. It was never quite the same twice. Gwen, never one to be prudish, openly shared comments about some of them, knowing Cris's predilection for cute blue eyed long lashed lithe blonds. After several hours looking at both the adolescent and craft art works Gwen suggested that they stop for coffee or tea at the Trident, the coffee house and book store that was the popular local hang out which just up Pearl. They found a small table on the sidewalk outside in the sun. Although still in the lower 50s, it was nice and warm in the sun. And very relaxing after all the walking. Gwen sipped her tea and smiled at Cris. "It is sure good to have you around again, Cris. I have really missed you. I hope you do decide to move here" Cris returned the smile. "You know this comes at a good time for me. I can't tell you how much I appreciate the opportunity both to visit you and to get away from the Bay Area." Gwen became serious. "Cris, may I be honest with you in a sisterly sort of way?" Cris smiled. "Gwen, you know you that you are always welcome to be my surrogate sister. You would anyway even if I said no." Gwen continued without blinking an eye. "I may not know what I am talking about, but one of the reasons I really wanted you to come to Colorado was that I have been concerned about you. Its been more than two years since you lost Misha. But from what Cully has shared with me, pretty much confirmed by you last night, you still seem to be taking it very hard." Cris put down his coffee mug and looked over to Gwen. She and Cully had flown back to San Francisco after Misha died and helped with funeral arrangements and more than that, helped pull Cris through probably the most difficult time in his life. She had known Misha very well, although Gwen had moved to Boulder about a year after Cris and Misha began their relationship, just a short time before Misha moved in with Cris. Cris knew Gwen was a priceless friend he could be honest with her. He was silent for a time, looking up at the bright blue sky, then said, "I don't know if I will ever get over this. I have never loved anyone like Mishka, and I know I will never be able to love anyone like that again. The hole in my heart is smaller than before, but it is still an open wound." Cris smiled and added, "Funny, me a highly trained and successful psychotherapist who counsels people about grief and loss still struggling with such a thing, and after so many years." Gwen sighed and reached over and placed her hand on top of Cris's arm. "It's hard." Then with her on call Welsh lilt, added, "But, you just never know what may happen. There may be a time when you move beyond this, maybe even into another relationship." "I doubt it," Cris said firmly, but with gentleness, knowing that Gwen meant no harm and was only offering the very advice and council he would to someone in these circumstances. At the same time he recalled words to this effect he had shared with Tanner so recently. It was at this precise moment that a lone puffy white cloud passed in front of the sun, blocking its view for just a few seconds, but sending out fantastic rays of light across the expanse of an otherwise cloudless cobalt blue sky. Then just a suddenly it was bright and sunny again, no cloud in sight. Cris had been staring at this. 'Amazing,' he said to himself as he looked for the little cloud which had simply disappeared. Cris pondered it as if it was an omen. Suddenly a thought came to him in the form of a haiku: 'The sun bright and warm; a cloud hides it and is gone; the darkness will pass.' He sure hoped so. Gwen broke the silence. "I am so hoping you will come to Colorado, Cris. It's more than the program and the job, you know. No, it's about you. Moving away from the Bay Area will be a step toward healing that wounded heart of yours. I just know it," Gwen offered with a very concerned look in her eyes. Then the moment of seriousness passed and they gathered up their things and headed up the street to look at more art, and more boys. Later, as they relaxed over a light supper back at Gwen's, Cris was looking through some of Gwen's project notebooks which gave more information about both the program and the administrative counseling position. She explained what her hope for the program was and the kind of support Cris could expect if he took over the leadership of it. The pay was substantial. It seemed very exciting and was exactly what he liked to do. Over glasses of port they discussed the Boulder school district, the high value placed on truly liberal education practices by the well educated town residents, the growing need to focus on boys who were increasingly at risk, and the politics of it all. Finally as the sun dropped behind the Front Range throwing Boulder into shadow, although the plains far to the distant east were still being bathed by the last of the day's light, Gwen said goodnight. "Well, Cris, this has been delightful. But I have some work that I need to finish before tomorrow, so I am going to leave you to your own devices. I am usually up pretty early, as you know, but you should sleep in if you can." Then she explained the breakfast options and gave him her card that had both her direct office and cell phone numbers. She also handed him the keys to her P38A Range Rover, along with a map of the Boulder area with all nine middle schools highlighted, and an official plastic visitors pass that had Cris's picture. That would assure him free access to all the Boulder Valley School District sites. She also handed him a formal letter of introduction from Associate Superintendent Dr. Powell-Jones asking that he, Dr. Crispin Wyndham, be shown every courtesy and granted any wish. She had also emailed each of the middle school principals to be prepared for a visit over the next few days. Gwen said that he was to just spend the next few days on his own going anywhere he liked and talking with anyone he wished. She said she wanted him to see the district as it really was. Later in the week, Thursday, they would meet at the district headquarters, which was not far from Gwen's. Then they could talk more seriously about future plans. She said she knew he would make the right decision. So, Cris spent the next three days enjoying himself immensely. He visited each of the middle schools as well as some of the elementary in order to observe some fourth and fifth grades, meeting some of the kids who would be transitioning to middle school soon. All the kids were delightful, although he had little difficulty sensing some serious issues that lurked just below the surface with a number of them. All the staff that he came in contact with bent over backwards to help him in every way possible. He met many teachers, observed dozens of classrooms, talked with countless administrators and counselors, as well as parents. But most of all he took great pleasure in spending time with the kids, hearing their about their successes, their concerns and doubts, their perceptions and their hopes for the future. And he was able to take some very nice pictures to add to his extensive collection. By the time Wednesday had drawn to a close, Cris had become very knowledgeable about not only the strengths but also the challenges facing the Boulder middle schools. Gwen was correct about the growing problem involving boys in school and Cris could see that this was hidden from most of the teachers and administrators. He had even driven up beautiful Boulder Canyon to visit Nederland which housed a combination senior high and middle school. Although he had not been to Ned in thirty years, it appeared to not to have changed very much even if he could not recall it precisely. Maybe it seemed just a wee bit larger. He had taken his laptop with him each day, making notes about his observations, suggestions for improvement, questions, concerns, some names of both adults and kids who had been helpful or would need some follow-up time with Cris, so that he could build up a network of contacts should he decide to stay. Wednesday evening he proofed what was turning out to be a summative report for Gwen. He saved everything on a zip disk so that Gwen could have it and print out a copy for him as well. Cris was looking forward to sitting down with Gwen the next day and working through some of the details he still had questions about. But he had all but decided that he was going to take the job. He was also looking forward to spending much of the weekend with Cody they had talked each evening. On Monday, Cris called and they chatted briefly and made plans for Saturday and Sunday, including the zoo and museum, and a trip into Ned, which Cris wanted to visit again. Cody spoke with his mom who readily gave him permission to spend the entire weekend hanging out with Cris. On Tuesday, Cody called Cris and they spoke for a long time, as Cody wanted to get some advice about a peer relationship problem that had surfaced that day. This evening Cody had called again, but their conversation was brief, as Cris wanted to finish his report. However he was happy to learn that Cody successfully navigated the crisis which had involved some of his closer friends. Cris suggested that they talk again on Friday to firm up the plans for the weekend. "What," implored the young boy in a plaintive tone of voice, " and not talk tomorrow?" "What am I thinking. I will call you tomorrow and let you know about how things go with the school district. Good night, my sweet prince." Cody laughed, "Bye, Cris. Talk to you tomorrow." Thursday Cris completed his report in the morning then met Gwen at the district offices. She introduced him to her own staff and then printed out and read his report. She was obviously very pleased with his observations and suggestions, as they neatly dovetailed with her own. It was at this point that Cris said he would take the position, much to Gwen's joy. She mentioned she knew he would all along, so was never very anxious. She knew him very well, indeed. The rest of the day was spent discussing overall strategic plans as well as some of the more tactical concerns, such as his relocation time line, office location, staff needs, and so on. Cris called Cody when he got home and they talked briefly. Cris shared that he was going to move to Colorado, to which Cody replied with many loud whoops of joy. On that note they said good night. The next day, Friday, Cris met with the district superintendent and the other three associate superintendents, Gwen being the fourth, and talked about his background as well as his vision for coming to Boulder. While they had already seen his vitae, he could tell they were suitably impressed with him in person. He fielded a few questions then they discussed a time line for his arrival. It was agreed that if he could be situated by late summer, in time for the new school year, it would be best. But the final arrangements were left to Gwen and Cris to work out. After the meeting Gwen had the associate super for secondary schools, Richard Van Horn come back to her office. She wanted Cris to get to know Rick better for several reasons. One was that she and Rick were very good friends and allies, having very similar educational philosophies. Second was Gwen wanted Rick and Cris to begin to establish a good working relationship, as Rick was in charge of all the secondary schools, which included the middle schools. This connection would have to be strong and vibrant for the program to be successful. Lastly, Rick and his family lived in Nederland, and she knew that Cris was heading up there for the weekend, and thought they might have the opportunity to get together. She also mentioned that he had four lovely and intelligent children, three of whom were gorgeous lively boys. Rick was friendly, relaxed and easy to talk with. Rick told Cris that they would love to have him visit this weekend, but Cris told him he had already made plan so this weekend probably would not work. But he said that he really did want to spend some time with Rick and his family this summer. Rick suggested that he just make plans to stay with them in Ned for part of the summer. The Van Horn's had plenty of room, the kids loved hiking and camping and Rick was sure Cris would love them. He mentioned Cody and Rick said that he should bring him along as well. This all sounded terrific to Cris so it was settled. Later that afternoon, Cris called Cody to tell him he would pick him up in the morning around 9. He made sure he had directions to his house and then spoke briefly with Terri, who walked in the door just as they were concluding their conversation. Later that evening, Gwen hosted a party to which she had invited the many friends and associates she wanted Cris to meet. She had planned this event the previous week, so sure was she that Cris would accept the position. There were about thirty guests, great food and lots to drink. It was great fun and Cris had the opportunity to meet some people who would become important associates and good friends during his sojourn in Boulder. Richard and Elizabeth Van Horn were there and Cris enjoyed talking with them. Lizzie was a performance artist and potter, and came from Texas, as did Rick. They had been in Colorado for seven years, first in Boulder, then moved to Nederland about four years ago to get away from some of the hubbub of city life. When Cris went to bed, as he looked out of the windows into the moon bathed trees, he thought about all that had occurred in one short week. Meeting Cody was first. Then there was the decision to move to Colorado. Then all the new relationships that were starting to form. What amazing changes. Then he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.