Date: Sat, 10 Aug 2002 02:50:03 -0400
From: C. E. Jordan <c.e._Jordan@mailandnews.com>
Subject: The VILLAGE BOY 12

The Village Boy
c.e._jordan@mailandnews.com


     A small note to the great number of concerned friends who have written
to me asking..(and demanding :-)) that VB to be continued. Thanks so
much for caring and for your patience; it's just that some things in life
simply cannot be avoided. But despite any necessary pauses, you can be
assured that I'll continue with this story as long as necessary...and as
long as you still care about it.....

     Thanks a bunch.

______________________

Copyright c.e. Jordan


>From last episode:

     I sighed, "All I can say, Eliza, is if I can let my love for him...rather
than
my *desire* for him dictate my actions, then perhaps I'll always make
correct decisions...well, at least most of the time...I hope.

     She stared at me again, "If you were over-confident, I would have begun
to have real doubts about you." She smiled, softly, and continued,
"Anyway, watching you and Jer together makes me think that things may
turn out alright. I pray that neither of you gets hurt.

     I went over to Eliza and kissed her on the cheek. This time she didn't
blush.

____________________________________________________________

                    THE VILLAGE BOY - Part 12


     The big black automobile eases its way northward on Sixth Avenue,
smoothly negotiating New York's early morning traffic. A battered yellow
taxicab pulls up alongside us. I don't know what we've done to annoy him,
but mouthing an obscenity, the driver makes a rude stabbing gesture with
his middle finger just before peeling off into a side street. Our chauffeur
this morning, is Rafael, a cool young latino, who just smiles to himself.
It's such  an odd day. Light rain drizzles down steadily, even though the
sunlight is bright as ever. I remember as a child, whenever this
happened, the kids would say, **`the devil and his wife are fighting'**. I
smile ruefully. Yes, there certainly is a fight going on and I silently pray
that
the winner is going to be Eliza.

     Inside the car Jeremy and Eliza are sitting across from me. The boy
slides down his seat to lean against his mother. He rests his head on her
shoulder and looks at me. Behind his eyes there is a distance that resists
probing. I want to say to him **Wherever you are I'll be there...I'll always
be
there with you **. But those eyes narrow to slits, then close.

     Eliza appears to be already asleep. She looks angelic, a childlike
madonna embracing a child of her own.

     I think of all the important tasks that has to be done today and take out
my cell phone. For the next twenty minutes or so, I make a number of
quick calls to my lawyers and a few other authorities. Events have finally
been set in motion for Jeremy to become my legal ward. The slight young
woman across from me and her son haven't moved.  They are a contrast
in light and dark^×life and death. But I don't want to think about that right
now and close my own eyes.

****************************************************************************
     I'm somewhere else, a child again...maybe eleven years of age. A
dusky dimpled boy from the neighborhood runs into my yard to play. His
name is Paul. And his greeting, as usual, is to jump on me. He wrestles
me to the ground. I'm smaller and weaker. We roll around in the soft
grass of my mother's sun-dappled garden. I yield. My nostrils are invaded
by the persistent scent of crushed green things and roses. Hibiscus
blossoms hang just above my head. They are such a shocking red it
causes me to blink.

     Our bodies have come to rest amidst heavy breathing and a sprinkle of
yellow daisies. Paul's weight pressing down on me makes me think of
suffocation and I begin to thrash about in panic. But another sensation,
one of growing excitement, pulses through my body and I become less
anxious.

     Paul's hands grasp both my wrists. He slowly stretches out his body
atop mine, nose to nose, belly to belly. When, for a moment, I look into his
face, I sense in his triumphant eyes, a mystery, deep, green, and alive as
the garden....

******************************************************************************
*

     "Hey....Charles we're here..." I've come alert to Jeremy poking me in the
ribs. Eliza's awake and looking on with an amused expression on her
wan face. I feel a little foolish and smile sheepishly. "Geeze...I guess I
didn't get much sleep last night.


                              ******

     Just as Dr Bob had planned we are the only ones present at this very
early time of the day. After the usual paperwork and a few preliminaries
with his assistant, it isn't long before the Doctor himself appears at the
door to his office and waves us in. The three of us rise as one and head
for his office. Jeremy sputters in frustration when the doctor asks him to
remain right there in the waiting-room.

     "But...but...she's my mom!

     "I know you're worried son, but you won't have very long to wait, okay?

     "It's alright honey," adds Eliza, "Just stay here for a few minutes...

     Jer still looks miserable, so I don't say anything, but I give him a
brief
hug for consolation.

     In his office Dr. Bob moves swiftly. I'm surprised that he doesn't ask
many questions. There is no nurse attending and he doesn't make Eliza
undress completely.  He listens to her heart and lungs with his
stethescope, and touches her here and there with his long
fingers^×including her stomach. Then he checks that tender area at the
confluence of her neck and jaw. That done, he begins silently scribbling
notes.

     Finally, he sits back and looks at us, deep compassion evident in his
eyes. "Well," he says, addressing me, "I'd like to admit Ms. Bell
immediately.

     Eliza stares down at her tightly clasped fingers, her face a mask of
resignation. He addresses her directly this time, "Ms. Bell...Eliza...I want
to
run a few more tests to see exactly what else is involved here...especially
the lymphatic system...understand?

     She nods. He doesn't have to say it. It was certain now, she has
cancer.

     Dr. Bob stands and adjusts his red-framed glasses, "I'll need to talk to
my assistant for a moment...we need to fill out some forms and make
arrangements for your transportation to hospital.

     Eliza sighs audibly, "Could Jeremy come in for a moment?

     "Of course. I'll get him." Dr. Bob leaves the room and in a second
Jeremy is bursting in. He quickly scans our faces and hesitates, "Mom's
not coming home is she?" I notice how we all have begun talking around
Eliza as if she were already an absence. I make a mental note never to do
that to her again. But this time she answers for herself, "No baby, I'm not
coming home. I've got to go to the hospital for more tests...

     Jeremy's expression darkens and I think he might cry, but he simply
sits down next to his mother. I notice how his fingers tangle and struggle
together in his lap, just like Eliza's often does.

     The ambulette arrives for her soon after. Outside, we pile into the back
of the small vehicle after Eliza is taken aboard. The rain has stopped. Only
bright sun rules the cerulean skies. This is a perfectly beautiful day...for
someone, somewhere...

...to be continued...