Date: Mon, 2 Nov 2020 22:39:30 +0000
From: Jonah
Subject: Howard  Chapter 3

This is a work of fiction. It is a sequel to the other stories, beginning
with "A Letter from America" that have appeared in adult/youth, young pals,
and no sex.  Not one single character is , or is based on, a real person.
I have borrowed the names of places, and even of some buildings and
institutions in those places, but their personnel remain fictitious. They
do not represent real people. Not all characters were created by me.  There
are some that were created by another author -- Jacob Lion.  I am grateful
to Jacob for permission to use his characters.  I hope you enjoy this
story.  I'm grateful to Nifty for publishing it.  Nifty makes no charge,
neither for me to publish, nor for you to read these stories, but it does
cost money to publish them.  If you enjoy the stories, please consider
making a donation to Nifty at  http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html  so that
he can continue to bring these stories to you.


Howard     Chapter 3

Monday, being a Baker Day, probably could have seen us going off
trainspotting somewhere, while we still had the chance.

Well that wasn't going to happen - at least not for some of us.

At around half past ten we were visited by Joe, Miriam, Jacob and Ben.

Yes, Dr. Rankine had surgery, so Ben was at a loose end, since Dave Webber
was respecting the Baker day.

Howard was pleased to make a new friend.  It made up, at least in part, for
the departure of several of his old ones.

Yes, a departure took place.  Simon, Luke and Peter all accompanied Joe,
though we knew not whither.  No doubt we'd find out later.

Miriam and I were amusing ourselves for a while watching the two boys play
with Howard, when an interesting development took place. Ben looked me full
in the face.

"He wants the toilet," he said.

I stood and picked up the puppy and placed it in the litter tray.  Then I
turned to face Ben.

"How did you know that Ben?" I said carefully.

"He didn't say it, because he doesn't use language like we do," he replied,
"but he thought it."

Suddenly I was transported back many, many years.  I was a tiny child and
shared a double pram with my twin sister.  I caught the thought,

"This rattle is mine, but yours is going out of the pram."

Having caught that thought, I was just in time to snatch it before she
could act on the plan, but she instantly burst into tears and my mother
scolded me for upsetting Joanne.  This wasn't the first time that episode
had surfaced in my brain.  It was, however, the first time in my entire
life that I understood the significance of it.  It wasn't, as I had always
believed, that my mother worshipped Joanne and detested me.  Nor was it
that my twin sister, for the seven years that she lived, was a spoilt brat.
It was that, at the time that I caught that thought from my sister, NEITHER
SHE NOR I HAD LEARNED TO SPEAK.  I might have caught that thought, but I
could not have caught those words.  Ben had made sense of something that
had been covertly troubling me for years and I, in turn, had made sense of
what he had just said.  Thoughts are, or at least can be, independent of
language.

Of course, many people communicate with their pets like that, as well as
with other humans.  I've seen fire crews work together with nary a word
spoken, because each man knows the needs of his colleagues.  Men in
dangerous occupations often work like that because the time available to
initiate an action is often less than the time it would take to voice it.
Mostly those people don't realise that they are communicating
telepathically. They usually believe that they have merely become so used
to their colleagues' habits that they can predict them.  They are only
right up to a point.

"What do we want for lunch?" asked Miriam.

I thought for a moment.

"There's some chicken pies in the fridge," I said. "We could have those
with some bread and butter, then I've got some bananas."

Right, I'll get the pies warmed up if you can butter some bread. I'm sure
Jacob would like a banana"

"Does he need it mashed?"

"No, he's got teeth now.  If you can start the skin for him, he'll peel it
himself.  He likes doing that."

"Hard," said Jacob.

"What is?" I queried.

"Hard," he repeated.

He steadied himself against my kneecap, then lurched off in the direction
of the kitchen

  He reached for the puppy, still squatting in its litter tray.

"Not while he's in there," said Miriam, scooping up her son.

Jacob's smile vanished and his little face screwed itself into an
expression of devastation.  Tears formed.

"Hard!" he wailed forlornly." Oh hard!"

"Miriam, " I queried, "has Jacob ever said 'Mummy' yet?"

"Not yet," she said, "He makes interesting noises though."

"Not 'Daddy' either then?" I said.

She shook her head.

"Well you needn't compete with Joe for who he's going to learn first,
because it isn't either of you.  It's our dog."

Jacob had stopped crying.  Now he looked at me and solemnly pronounced,

"Mum!"

"Yes, Jacob, I know your Mum's holding you," I said.  "Well at least you
were second".

Didcot.  That's where the motley crew had got to.  It was 6pm when they got
back.

Joe had taken them to Paddington and had caught a Bristol-bound train to
Didcot.  That sort of explained how they had persuaded Simon to go.  Simon
is no trainspotter, so wouldn't usually have been interested, unless there
was some steam action in prospect.  So, they had made for the Great Western
Society's HQ at Didcot.  and I bet they were all looking out at Southall as
they passed.

There had been a plethora (and you don't see one of those everyday), of GWR
locomotives, and some of them were in steam.  They had all cabbed several
of them and Simon wouldn't shut up about the new firing methods he had
seen.

 "Well don't you go trying any of those tactics out on the North Norfolk",
said Joe.  "They only work on Great Western engines."

There was a knock on the door. I was nearest so i answered it.  In the
hallway stood David Cole, the shopkeeper from downstairs and our landlord.
In his arm was a very scared looking puppy.

"Does this belong to you Jonah?" he asked.

I took the dog from him.

"Thanks David, yes it does," I told him.  "That's not a problem I hope."

 "No, no, "he replied. "I just found him at the foot of the stairs looking
up them and whining.  He's obviously too little to get upstairs yet, but
not too little to get down them."

"Crumbs, he must have slipped out when the boys came in, and we were all
too busy to notice.  I'm really grateful David."

"That's all right, " he replied.  "He's a friendly little fellow - even
when he's terrified."

I couldn't deny that.

Joe had set himself to cooking dinner for us all.  I was certainly not
going to prevent an expert chef like Joe from doing that, but I did have
one reservation.

"Did I ought to phone Monica?  I mean, you usually cook her dinner.  It
isn't fair, for her to have to look after herself tonight just because
you're round here."

"You can phone if you like, " said Joe, "but she's not there.  Rob's taking
her out for dinner tonight."

Now that was a surprise.  I wondered if there was an ulterior motive but,
if there was, I couldn't think what it could be.

Monica was well into her eighties, but her pace of life had barely slowed
at all.  At this rate, who could say how much longer she could go on for.
She could make a century easily, but I couldn't imagine her being any
different from how she was now.

"So, what's Ben doing?" I inquired.

"He's coming back with us," Joe replied.  "Rob'll pick him up when he
brings Monica back."

"Well I hope Rob doesn't go thinking he can bring her home at all hours of
the day or night," I said stiffly.

Joe creased up with laughter.

"They could be planning an elopement," he chortled helplessly.

"Well I hope he can keep her in the manner to which she's accustomed", I
replied.  That creased him up even more.

"what's the matter with you two?" demanded Miriam.

We sobered up immediately.

"Nothing Dear," said Joe which, I am sorry to say, only started me off
again.

Miriam threw a disgusted look at each of us, then with a "Hmmmmff!"
returned to assisting the boys in entertaining her son and our dog.

Dinner was, I need hardly say, a tremendous success.  I was anxious that
the boys should get an early night, but it was difficult, since we had
guests.

Of course, they weren't the only ones who had school tomorrow, but Ben
couldn't really go home until Rob collected him.  We tried playing card
games but, it couldn't be denied, there was a marked lack of concentration
on the part of all five boys.

 Miriam finally prevailed upon Joe to lead his entourage back to Pinner at
around nine o' clock.  As soon as the door closed behind them, I pounced.

"Right, it's school in the morning so, upstairs now and get ready all your
things for school.  Get yourself showered and I'll sort out hot chocolate
for supper.  It'll be bedtime by then and I don't want to hear a single
note of dissention from any of you."

That last bit was because Simon appeared to be about to protest.  He
quickly changed his mind.

They disappeared.  I ignored the thunder of elephants charging about
upstairs, and the raised voices.  As I put the milk saucepan on, the
general cacophony gave way to the splatter of water and the occasional
childish laugh.  I took my hot chocolate and sat on the sofa immediately
being joined by a puppy who snuggled against me.  I was able to relax like
that until three naked boys came downstairs.  That put into my head a
thought that ought to have been there before.  I stood and left the dog on
the sofa.  Wordlessly I returned to the kitchen took three saucers from the
cupboard and placed one underneath each of the mugs.  I didn't want anybody
missing school tomorrow because they'd managed to scald themselves tonight.

Nobody did.  The nightcap was consumed without incident and all three boys
went up to bed - as did I.

I didn't trouble with trying to get Luke to sleep in his own bed.  I just
wrapped the dog's blanket around the other pillow and let him and Howard
sleep as they had the previous night.

Yes, I'm well aware that Luke should have been sleeping in his bed -
especially on a school night.  I was also aware that, if I forced him to do
that, and he subsequently relocated himself to my bed, he would get less
sleep than he would if I just let him sleep in my bed in the first place.
In any case, it worked, which any other arrangement most likely wouldn't
have.



TO BE CONTINUED