Date: Tue, 3 Jul 2007 11:29:09 -0700 (PDT)
From: crispin emrys <crispinemrys@yahoo.com>
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.