Date: Thu, 23 Jun 2016 18:09:58 -0400 From: Eff Del Subject: The Oak and the Ash Chapter 17 *The Oak and the Ash- Chapter 17* *By Eff Del* Nolitimere156@gmail.com *"Science has discovered that when we remember something, the same part of our brain `lights up' as when we were first experiencing it. It's rather as if we were experiencing it again.* *This is why some painful memories are suppressed automatically to hide and conceal the trepidation.* *Other memories; more pleasant and enjoyable are often moved aside because, as life progresses, our experiences accumulate and these are stored safely but separately.* *When some sight, word, taste or smell releases them, they are our own most perfect gifts to ourselves.* *However, you must experience life in order to remember it." * I'd parked the car under a big live oak tree near the River Walk. We all got out and Doctor Mo and I agreed on a time to meet back there. I hadn't said a word to Sean about his revelation concerning his memories of his grandmother. More would come in time and, our next `stop' would probably proliferate those recollections. I now felt more than ever that my choice to take him here was correct. He was thirteen but, unlike most boys that age, he had no qualms about reaching out and taking my hand as we climbed the steep concrete stairs from the river up to the historic district. I looked down and smiled at him and he looked up at me and returned the smile. I felt my chest flood with profound and almost overpowering love. As we topped the stairs, we stepped out into old Savannah and it was a feast for the eyes. The colors were dazzling and yet subdued. Nothing `blazed' in fact; it was if the city was done in subtle pastels so that the flowers and plants burst out from every niche to accent and beautify the place. It was graceful and lovely. It was the perfect southern city. I wrapped my arm around Sean's slender shoulder. "During the Civil War, General Sherman launched what became known as `the march to the sea'. He totally destroyed everything in his path including the great city of Atlanta which he burned to the ground. When his army drew up before Savannah, the citizens knew that they couldn't resist his forces and so, they surrendered. This left the city very much intact and therefore, it's here for us to appreciate." General Oglethorpe's squares which were the heart of each neighborhood in this old historic part of town were one of the very unique features of this grand old city. We walked hand in hand over to the next square and he stopped and squeezed my hand tightly. "I know where we are. That's my granma's house. We were here last time we were in Savannah." "Yes Sean, but this time, we're going to go in and visit." He looked up at me and his eyes were watery but he smiled and nodded his head. "Kay Dad". The off-white Greek revival home was at the far end of the square and the entrance was actually through a black wrought iron gate to the left side. He held my hand tightly as we climbed the five steps to the front door and I rang the bell. An exquisitely beautiful grey haired woman with what had to be one of the world's most welcoming smiles opened it. Her warm countenance absolutely stopped me in my tracks. "You are Mister Eric Tucker?" I nodded affirmatively and she smiled and offered her hand. "I am Athena Blanchard welcome to my home." She turned to Sean. "You, young man, though I can hardly believe it, must be the boy that I cuddled and held on my knee all those long years ago, how is this possible? Are you Sean?" He nodded his head and she wrapped him in her arms. "Come inside. Come inside and we'll sit down for a while." She guided us into the lovely house and Sean followed close behind her staring as if he were transfixed. She seated us in the bright parlor that looked out over the parklike square across the narrow street and turned to Sean. "I'm sorry that I don't have any soda to offer you." She looked to me with a wonderfully youthful grin; "Can you imagine a house in Georgia without one bottle of Coca Cola? You'd almost think that should be against the law here wouldn't you? I do have a pitcher of fresh sweet tea darlin' would that suite you?" Sean nodded his head. He was still too engrossed in this experience to speak. "And you Mr. Tucker...I have found that gentlemen generally prefer refreshment with a bit more bite than sweet tea. I may offer you bourbon, sherry or moonshine." I sat up abruptly and she smiled with a wonderful twinkle in her eyes. "Mr. Tucker, surely you know that we genteel southern ladies have had things under control for generations? Heavens...the menfolk of this city would never have had the sense to surrender to that nasty little General Sherman if the patriotic ladies of Savanna hadn't gone down into their cellars and brought up a jug or two. I believe that's how the world has gone since time immemorial." While she was out of the room, I looked at Sean. "Is something wrong Son? You look troubled." "N-no Dad, it's more like I'm almost remembering stuff. It's like right at the edge of my mind...you know like when you feel like you've got to sneeze an' then you just can't? It almost hurts an' you keep tryin' and then suddenly...you either sneeze or you don't need to anymore. It's like that; somethin' wants to pop out like a sneeze but I can't quite reach it an' I know it's a good thing so I want it to come out. Maybe I'm just workin' too hard at it." Athena re-entered the room carrying a tray with three glasses. The tall sweaty glass of sweet tea with a slice of lemon was placed before Sean and a thick tumbler of clear liquid sustained by two large ice-cubes was handed to me as our hostess sat down with a glass that was a complete duplicate of mine. She raised her glass towards us and with a smile; softly said "Welcome." "So, Athena...Sean and I were here about two years ago but, he didn't want to visit and felt he had no memories here. Since then though, he's begun to have memories of his Grandma and I thought that our imposition upon you today might help him bring some of them forward." She smiled softly and nodded her head. "They were only just a little less than three years but they were happy years. By the grace of god, Sean was only about one year old when his wonderful parents were murdered in Uganda and he had no memory of that horror. He was a beautiful chuckling little boy when Karen and I picked him up and brought him home. Karen Harris and I had always been the best of friends (like only southern woman can) be and I'd moved in to be her housemate shortly after Sean and his parents left for Africa. Unfortunately, I was visiting friends in California when Karen died and even though I rushed home, the little boy was already gone and I was informed that I had no legal right to enquire about his location or to search for Sean. I was only `related' to him in my mind not in the eyes of the law. This house is mine for life but then, it's legally held in trust for Sean as per Karen's will. If he should choose not to live in it, it's to go to the Historical Society." She gently urged Sean up from his chair and guided us down the hall and up the beautifully carved heart pine staircase. "This room was your bedroom Sean. We kept you here so that you could hear the nighttime sounds of the city and the music that often came floating over the square. You loved music from the very beginning and even before you could talk, you would imitate the tunes that you heard and you'd often go to sleep humming or copying a song. She would never leave you at night without singing a song back to you; usually some crazy Irish folksong and then, she'd plant a kiss on your forehead and whisper; `Goodnight Bunny baby.' And like magic, you almost always fell right to sleep." I looked over at him and he was shaking with tears flooding from his eyes. "I remember. I-I remember you...you are `Annietheena' isn't that right?" She smiled and wrapped him in her arms. "Yes Darling, that's right. You never could get your little lips around saying; `Auntie Athena' so it just settled into `Annietheena' and I can't tell you how wonderful it is to hear that again." She hugged him tightly. He sighed and took her hand and he walked through the French doors out to the garden on the terrace. "I ran around here butt naked all the time didn't I?" "Oh yes indeed Sean." She chuckled as she answered. "Your grandmother believed that being out and exposed to the sun was very healthy and she enjoyed sketching and painting you out here among the flowers and plants." "We've got one of her paintings an' I'm sittin' right over there holdin' a yellow flower." "I know that one and it's among my favorites. I'm so glad that you have it. Now sweet boy, come with me into the kitchen because I have something for you." She offered her hand and he took it without hesitation. I followed because I was most certainly the third wheel in this journey. She approached the large heavy oak table in the middle of the room and lifted a marbled stationary box. "I went through these last night after I'd talked to your father and I suspect you might like some of them Sean. Keep the ones you like but please return the others. They all mean a lot to me." I of course understood what she was saying. "Thank you Athena for loaning us this precious collection. We'll have the ones we want to keep duplicated and then have the entire set returned to you. You are very kind." She stood and smiled. "I wish I had more time to spend with you but the Historical Society meets in thirty minutes and I'm the recording secretary. Sean, I never thought to see you again. I can't even explain what a joy this has been. Eric, thank you for making this happen. It's a re-union that I never imagined could or would occur." She kissed her index finger and placed it upon his forehead. "Til next time bunny baby...til next time." Sean kissed his index finger and placed it against her forehead. "Till next time bunny Aunty...till next time." ************************************* As we were walking around the square, I looked at my watch. "Let's head back to the car. Hopefully, Doctor Mohamed will be there and we three can grab some lunch." I wanted for him to absorb his memories and new experiences but not to be captured in them. They were intended to expand not restrict his development. As we got to the bottom of the concrete stairway, I noticed that Doctor Mohamed was sitting on a bench overlooking the river. He had a sketchpad on his lap and he was quickly but meticulously drawing a small one mast sail boat that was anchored just off shore. I looked over his shoulder. "My goodness Mo, you're quite accomplished." He smiled without looking up. "No, Eric, it's just a hobby but I enjoy it. I've been able to make about five sketches during this little walk through the city and between them; I'll be able to create a decent painting when I get home. However, my next vacation, I'm coming back here to spend more time. This city is enchanting." I smiled as he stood up and we walked to the car. "Could I see your drawins' Doctor Mohamad?" "Of course you may Sean." He smiled as he offered his pad to the boy who turned the pages slowly and looked upon them in awed appreciation. "Doctor, these are wonderful. I feel like I'm lookin' through your eyes. Do you have others at home?" "Oh, lots and lots and I've also got a few paintings. Daniel kindly found me a well-lit space in the attic of one of the little wings in the mansion and I've set up a studio. I'll show you some of them when we get back." I shook my head and smiled silently. Lord! I loved Daniel. He knew every square inch of the house and discreetly allocated space without bothering me with having to worry about it. "You should also show them to Brian. I don't think he's as good as you; he's only thirteen, but he's pretty good." "Absolutely, Sean. We'll do that when we get home." I unlocked the car and Doctor Mo placed his sketch pad on the back seat and after relocking the car, we headed down the river walk. "So, what do we think about lunch? Mo, I've never given much thought to Islamic dietary restrictions. I know that you are forbidden to eat pork just as are the Jews but what else is forbidden to you?" He smiled. "Allah was gentler to us than he was with the children of Israel. His restrictions were simpler and easier to follow especially if you are...as I am, a more modern and less orthodox practitioner of the faith. The Islamic rules of food are determined by what is called; `Halāl'. That is essentially the same to us a `Kosher' is to the Jews. It essentially means; `allowed'. Pork is totally forbidden. All other beasts of the land and sky are allowed so long as they are killed mercifully and blessed in the name of god before they are slaughtered and their bodies are drained of blood. Blood is prohibited to us. None of the fruit of the land is forbidden, therefore, I am a lover of potatoes, carrots, green beans and black beans as well. Unlike the Jews, the meat of the sea is all Halāl to us and so, I am enjoying this little adventure in Georgia. The fish is exquisite and the shrimp and crab are extraordinary so...as to lunch, I'd say anything but a pulled pork barbeque would be fine." I smiled. "Well then since our young Sean here has never met a sea food that he didn't like, let's trudge over to the `Pirate's House'. It's the oldest continually operating public house in Savannah. It was once the congregating place for unscrupulous scallywags and marauders. Even Blackbeard himself was a regular frequenter of the place." I'd lowered down and sort of draped myself over Sean's shoulder and instinctively, my voice had drifted into a very hokey `pirate' accent and tone. He giggled as he looked up at me. "Dad, that's not true and your pirate bit is so lame." I hugged him tight. "Actually smart boy, my `pirate bit' IS lame but the rest is very true as you'll see when we get there. All of that stuff really happened it's not just made up stories and besides we'll pig out on a very halāl lunch there." ********************** We sat at a table overlooking the river and I thought to myself what a perfect spot for pirates and other scrofulous people to take note of what ships were entering or leaving the river. Sean had recovered from his morning melancholy. He joined us in enjoying lunch with great vigor. We'd wound up ordering three `Fisherman's Baskets' each of which were filled with shrimp, crab, oysters and scallops. All fresh from the sea and since this was the Deep South, all were breaded and deep-fried; unhealthy as hell, but tasting like heaven. Taking a quick break from the consumption, I wiped my greasy mouth and spoke; "So guys, here's some news; tomorrow, Henry and I are going out to look at some trucks. I've got to get that old heap of his off the island before I start getting fined...trouble is, he loves that old truck of his so, this might be a problem. Sean the boys don't start school yet so you, Todd, and Luke are free to get into whatever adventures you wish to. Doctor Mo, the same for you but, both of you just keep in mind that early the next morning, we're flying out." That got both of their attentions. "We're making a quick stop in Washington DC so that my little `Bird Man' can see the Aero-Space Museum in the Smithsonian. After that, well, I'd been thinking about New York City, but I've decided that would not be recuperative for me and so, we're going to New England...history, nature and seafood." They both smiled. "When we get to New England, I'm buying the lobsters." Doctor Mohamed smiled. "Nope Doc. This is a business trip and the company pays for everything and we don't get to have lobsters until or unless we get to Maine so we'll just have to wait and see what happens." ********************************** We'd decided that rather than take the interstate back to Sea Island, we'd drive south using the smaller Route 17 that more or less hugged the coast. That was a good choice because it was far more scenic. It ran along what where once little country roads passing houses, small stores and even entire little towns. This detour probably added a half hour to our trip but we made it back in reasonable time. After announcing our new itinerary, I took Henry aside to explain what our project for tomorrow was and Sean got together with Luke and Todd planning what mischief they could get into. Shortly though, we were all summoned into the dining room and Julia tortured the poor table with three platters overladen with fried chicken. She was grinning. "I know Doctor Mohamed can't eat no barbeque pork but he can't leave without some good southern fried chicken in his belly." Doc Mo smiled. "Thank you Julia I was hoping for this." The meal was delightful and after a long and interesting discussion, which included the revelation that little Luke, had decided that he wanted to become a doctor. The Tarltons eventually moved across the property and into their house and we three wandered into our rooms. Sean's room was of course, my room. He gleamed an impish smile as he slipped his clothing off and climbed onto the bed. I followed him quickly. I wrapped him in my arms and then kissed him passionately. The love I had for this boy was almost more than I could understand...more than I could control. I pulled him close, kissed his forehead, and held him until he fell asleep. It was a beautiful Savannah morning when we woke up still embracing and touching. We laughed and enjoyed the feel of each other in the shower while nothing was said, because nothing needed to be. It was instinctive between us. As we almost always did, I wrapped him into a towel and dried him off. Once we were dry and dressed, our day began with another kiss and then, we headed down for breakfast. Julia was gleaming as we entered the dining room. "Morning Mr. Eric, morning Sean. Doctor Mo is already seated workin' on his coffee and some toast. Go on inside and we'll get this show on the road." We complied and soon things began to almost explode. First came the coffee and she knew just how we both liked it. Then came a half grapefruit followed by soft fried eggs on a bed of grits. With a sweet smile she walked in and slid another plate to each of us. "I know that Doctor Mo loves his fish so, these little fillets will begin your day with joy." "Julia, you are aptly named because you are a jewel." Doctor Mohamed said with a smile as he cut into his fish. As we were finishing I looked across the table. "Well, today I'm going to attempt to talk Henry out of that dumpy old truck. Julia, you've got the day to yourself and Doc Mo, I suspect you'll be sketching. What's up with you three bad boys?" "Dad, we're goin' out for shrimp, crab and oysters and Miz Julia says she'll get some corn on the cob an' other things an' we'll have what they call a `low country boil'. When that's over, we want to take a ride in Henry's new truck so it better be a four door...you know...with a front and back seat." I grinned at him and Julia. "That may take more power of persuasion than I've got but, I'll give it a try." ************************* Newspaper was spread triple thick upon the pick nick table out on the patio and the steaming goodness of shellfish, corn and small potatoes was spilled out across its surface in splendid bounty. Julia explained that a traditional `low country boil' also contained sausage but in deference to Doctor Mo, that had been eliminated. Smiling, we all sat down with glasses, plates and napkins and dug in. "Well I must say that you boys are great providers." It was little Luke who looked at me with a huge smile. "Yes Mister Eric. Our Daddy taught us when we were very little so, we know what we're doing. Ain't never been a time that me an' Todd have come home with empty sacks. My Daddy is a good teacher." I looked across the table at Henry who was beaming at his son with a face filled with love. "Luke, your Daddy is a good teacher but much more than that, your Daddy is a very good man. Remember and imitate that all of your life and you'll never go wrong." Henry took a long sip of his sweet tea and never said a word. ************************************* Earlier that day, Henry and I had left Sea Island in two vehicles because he'd insisted upon leaving his beat up old F150 with a friend. As he parked and locked the truck, he walked up and hung his keys upon the porch pole. "Portman said that so long as he can use it, `Isabella' can stay here." I'd quickly realize that `Isabella' was the name he'd given to the old grey truck that he loved so well. "I'd say that was a good situation Henry." He nodded his head in agreement but also with solemnity and no lack of obvious sadness. The rest of the afternoon was spent visiting car dealerships. We looked at and drove Dodges, Chevys, GMCs and Toyotas but, as I already knew; many people had tremendous brand loyalty so it was no real surprise to me when we ended up back at the Ford dealer. I quickly realized that the salesperson was walking Henry around looking at the lower end models and while that didn't seem to bother Henry (his beloved `Isabella' was a low-end F150 after all), it made me privately angry that the dealership employee had automatically made the decision as to what this man could afford. I walked over to them trying very hard to be non-confrontational to the salesman. "These are all good trucks but I need you driving something much more high-end Henry or else your neighbors on Sea Island will think you don't have any class." The mention of `Sea Island' opened the door to a whole new collection of lovely yet luxurious trucks. Just as his taste in manufacturer and specific models were more less written in stone, so was his taste in color. `Isabella' was a faded grey however, once she may have been silver. Henry found himself drawn to one particular truck and his taste was exquisite because it was a top of the line f150 platinum super crew with all of the bells and whistles. After looking at the sticker price he drew away from it in embarrassment. I noticed and realized this was the one. "I signaled to the salesman; "This is the one. Come back to us with an out the door price and you guys be very careful because you only get one chance. There's another Ford dealer twenty minutes down the road. Don't be too long, I don't like waiting." He actually returned in fifteen minutes and offered me a slip of paper. I studied it and smiled. It was slightly inflated but not an unfair offer. "No deal goes one-way." I subtracted five hundred dollars from his number and then wrote; "One Ford ball cap." He read it and smiled. "I'm not gonna lose a deal like this for five hundred bucks and a ball cap. Let's go see the finance manager." "Why do we have to do that?" "W-why, to set up your financing of course." "Who said anything about financing? In an hour or less, we're going to own this truck out right. Let's go see this man and set him straight." We entered the little office and a portly smiling man rose from behind the desk and offered his hand. "Good afternoon gentlemen, I'm Jarvis Skoggins. Please have a seat." He was holding the slip of paper with my amended purchase suggestion. Smiling he looked at us and said; "We can even come down as low as two Ford ball caps. I'm told that you wish to purchase this truck outright. That's not unheard of but it's unusual so the process may take a couple of days." "No sir Mr., Skoggins, it will take less than an hour. My name is Eric A. Tucker Jr. Does that mean anything to you?" "Well, it certainly does if you're the Eric Tucker I'm thinking about." "I suspect that I am. Now, I'm going to call my senior financial advisor and he's going to walk you through how to make this simple." My cell phone rang three times before uncle Phil was on the line and I told him what was going on. After a few moments he asked to speak to Mr. Skoggins and that man's face turned almost white with awe and surprise. He almost choked as he hung up the phone." "I-it would seem that all I have to do is enter the final sale price and all you need to do is swipe your credit card." "Well then, let's get it done Mister Skoggins." He punched some numbers into his computer and a multipart form soon spit out. He handed it to me for my review. I chuckled as I read it. "It seems you've managed to sneak some car dealer tricks into this document Mr. Skoggins. I'm ok with most of them but not this extended warranty that you stuck in without my permission. Take it out, print it again and let's get this done. Actually, he looked embarrassed as he worked upon his computer. The revised document was much more to my liking and I nodded. "OK, let's buy a truck." He entered the numbers and smiled with approval. "Your Phillip Regent had this all set up so that the tax was properly withdrawn from the numbers and excluded properly. Now if you'll insert a card." I withdrew one of my cards (I think it was a Master Card) and swiped it...this was not a chip reader. Rather quickly it asked for my PIN which I entered. It continued for what seemed like a rather long time and I noticed that Skoggins was looking very nervous. Suddenly the screen read; enter ultsec PIN. I'd been expecting this because it was something set up for men or companies wishing to make a high end purchase. The PIN could be from four to ten digits and we'd settled on `noli timere' the family motto. I typed in the words, pressed enter and settled back with a smile. In just about a minute, the screen flashed `accepted' and the tape emerged from the machine. "A sixty thousand dollar truck bought with the swipe of a credit card! I've never seen the like Mister Tucker." After the deal was done, Henry and I left for a quick lunch. Since Doc Mo wasn't with us we headed for the `Copper Pig' for some great pulled pork sandwiches and local brewed beer. It was wonderful and we giggled and shared stories. "Before we go though, this place has a moonshine bar. Let my get you one good shot since you're leaving tomorrow." "OK Henry, one good shot." He smiled as he walked to the bar. ************************************* Dinner was finished and we'd all heard several little burps and there were large smiles on everyone's faces. The boys got up from the table, collected the plates and silverware, and carried them into the kitchen. Then they wadded up the newspaper and hauled it off to the large trash dumpster out back. "Come on Daddy, we want to ride in the truck!" Henry looked at me and I smiled. "I think that's a good idea. The Tarltons should all take a ride in their new truck." "An Sean too Daddy. He should come." "Oh Todd, I think your family should enjoy this first ride together." I replied. "Well Mister Eric, it ain't like there's no room. Sean's skinny little white butt will fit very well in the back seat with Luke and Todd. We wouldn't be going far, just down to the end of the causeway for ice-cream." Henry said. Sean's eyes were pleading. "OK with me if it's OK with you, go have fun." With decibel breaking little boy whoops the three boys jumped into the back of the cab and Julia actually hooted as she climbed into the front passenger seat.. I sat down onto the patio with a scotch in my hand and watched the ocean with Doctor Mo. Very shortly, the truck pulled into the driveway. As the doors opened up I heard little boy hoots and Julia proclaiming; "Any boy who has messed up Dad's new truck with ice-cream is gonna get it on his butt!" The air was filled with laughter as they piled out of the truck. I gathered Sean against me. "OK, we're leaving very early in the morning so we've got to hit bed now. Boys, you'll see each other again soon but in the meantime, do very well in school. I'm counting on you." I kissed both boys on the cheek and Julia upon the forehead. As I shook Henry's hand, I noticed that the three boys were embracing warmly. "See ya next time we're out here." Sean said with a slight sniffle. Then, we walked up to bed. He removed his clothes and spread across the covers. I figured that it was long past time and I plunged hungrily down upon his little groin. His soft moans were all of the encouragement I needed. ************************************** Next stop is Washington DC. Thank you for all of your encouraging feedback. Eff