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