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 7 By Jonah
452A
Rayners
Lane
Harrow
HA2 5JX Dear Fergus 17 September 2020
Thank you for your kind letter. We are all struggling to come to terms with what has happened, but it helps being here for each other. I'm sure nobody here expects you to travel all that way, but we appreciate your prayers.
Thank you also for telling me about Peter. In fact, he told me himself a few days ago, and he has known for a long time, but has said nothing. Apparently, at one stage he considered harming himself, but he believes that his Mother's spirit talked him out of it. He assures me that since then he has been fairly positive about it, and I cannot but believe him. I don't know how much Simon knows. With all that is going on at the moment there hasn't been the opportunity to talk to him about it. I didn't believe I could feel more proud of the boys than I already did, but I was wrong.
Before the accident happened I promised the boys that I would write to ask you if you would allow us to visit with you during the Autumn half-term holiday. I would be happy to bring them up provided you don't think it would be too much of an imposition. It would be good for the boys to have something to look forward to (it would be good for me too). Please don't feel obliged to say yes, but it would be lovely to see you again.
Yours
Jonah
"So, what do you want to talk to me about?"
I hadn't heard Simon come downstairs. I had been using the computer downstairs to avoid disturbing any of the people in my bed.
"How much did you read?"
"Enough to know that it's about Pete, and you want to talk to me."
"Are you just about to start breakfast?"
"It's time."
"Never mind. Sit down a minute."
He sat on the sofa, so I moved over and sat next to him.
"Simon, you might not want to talk about this right now. If you don't, I'll understand."
He said nothing so I carried on.
"How much do you remember about when your mum died?"
"It wasn't Pete's fault."
"Sssshhhh! Keep your voice down. Nobody's talking about fault. It wasn't anybody's fault."
"I blamed God, but my father talked to me about that."
"But you didn't blame Peter?"
"I never realised he had anything to do with it until a long time after."
"when did you find out that Peter knew?"
"Last week when I went into your room to look for Ben, and he was talking to you and Ben about it."
"He was trying to help Ben."
He nodded.
"I know," he said. "I love my little brother."
"I love you all," I told him. "I think I have good reason. Now do you want me to make the tea while you start breakfast?"
"Jonah!"
The American boy was halfway down the stairs.
"I suppose I'm not going to be allowed to," I said, sitting back down again.
I roused the rest of the household whilst the dynamic duo took over the kitchen.
"What are we doing today?" Peter wanted to know.
"Well, I was thinking that Cecilly, Joe, Miriam and Jacob have been having it too peaceful," I told him, "and I reckon there are enough of us to put a stop to that. If you lot stay round there, I need to have a word with Simon's headmaster. I'm going to need to chat to yours sometime too."
"Why?"
"Because, if I don't you'll run out of things to ask me questions about," I replied. "Now are you coming round Mo....er .....to see Jacob, or do you plan to spend the day in bed?
I had only just stopped myself from saying, "round Monica's". It was going to take some getting used to that.
"Jonah, when people die, they don't really stop being .... " he was stumped for a word..."you know..."
"They don't stop existing?" I tried.
"Yes.... that." he replied. "My Mummy told me she still loves me, and she was dead. I still think my Daddy loves me too."
"I know he does Peter." I told him. "That's why I love it when Luke calls me 'Dad', but I never expect you and Simon to call me anything but Jonah. I'm not your dad - my friend Vijay is. Now, are you getting up or what?"
"YES!" said Peter rolling out of bed and deliberately taking the duvet with him.
"Heyyyy!" grumbled a sleepy American.
Luke just grinned. Forty minutes later, three Americans, four Brits and a dog, headed for Pinner. The conversation was lively, and you wouldn't have thought these were the same boys who got off the aeroplane yesterday. I'm not sure what had changed. A good night's sleep might have done it, or maybe Cecilly had shaken them up. Probably a combination of the two. Anyway, by the time we knocked on the door of the bungalow, everybody seemed excited.
Miriam let us in and within minutes Jacob was on his Godfather's lap. He had plenty that he wanted to tell Jake, and Jake listened attentively. The boy's English wasn't very lucid yet, and he repeated most things that he said several times to make himself understood, but Jake was entranced. I realised that he had never known either of his boys at this age. This was probably the first time Jake had the opportunity to watch a small baby develop into a small child. Well that didn't seem to spoil his enjoyment of it any.
"He can't talk very well yet," said Peter, quite un-necessarily. "It's hard to understand him sometimes."
"Oh, that's alright," said Kori. "We're used to having to talk to Englishers."
With the hand that wasn't currently holding Jacob, Jake delivered a light four-fingered tap to the back of Kori's head.
"What?" said the boy, though he couldn't have been ignorant of the reason.
"You'll have to excuse my friend," said Jake, to all assembled. "You try to bring them up right, but sometimes it seems they don't have the manners of a pig."
"Oh, Kori's got the manners of a pig alright," said Simon.
"SIMON!" Kori exclaimed.
"What?" Simon said, completely unruffled. "I was just sticking up for you."
I left them to amuse themselves while I walked round to Simon's school. It was break-time when I arrived, and the playground was full of screaming humans. As soon as I stepped into the foyer, it was like going deaf. I knocked on the office door.
"Come in Jonah," said Sylvia Kemp, the school secretary. "Ian was saying he hoped you'd call round."
"He did say to call anytime", I said. "If it's not convenient....."
"Of course, it's convenient," she replied. "He'll be glad to see you. Go straight in."
Ian Timmins BSc was, at thirty-six, young for a headmaster, but was highly thought of locally. I already knew him before Simon came here, since he was a member of Cannon Lane Methodist Church, though he seldom worshipped there, being a local preacher. He had indeed told me to call round any time when I phoned him the day after the accident. Now he rose from his desk to shake my hand.
"It's good to see you Jonah, " he said. "How are things?"
"I'll be glad when all this is over to be honest," I replied. "It has really hit the boys hard. Especially young Ben. He's going through all kinds of trauma at once."
"Yes, Dave said that. Did you know that he's started coming to Church?"
That was a shock.
"Has he?"
"Yes, I was at North Harrow last Sunday and he and Rob were there. Dave says they were there the Sunday before too."
"That's good," I said. "Let's hope they can find the support they need."
"Now, Simon," he said, deliberately changing the subject.
"Yes Simon," I replied, then waited.
"I'm assuming, " he said, "that we're not going to see him back here before the funeral."
"I was tempted to send him," I replied. "I'm almost sure he'd be alright, but then is 'almost' good enough? Besides, our American friends are over for the funeral, which would definitely be a complication, but I don't want Simon to miss out on his schooling."
"Do you want me to ask around his subject teachers to see if there's any work he can get on with at home?"
"That's what I was hoping you could do."
"Then I will. There's one other thing, if you thought Simon would be up for it."
"What's that?"
"You say that your American friends are here. Well one of those Americans is Kori. We all know what he's like."
I thought back to Kori's cheeky remark back at the bungalow.
"We certainly do," I said with a smile.
"Well on Monday, Simon's group have English and geography in the morning and humanities and citizenship in the afternoon. I think those are all subjects where an American boy could give the group a new, and very different perspective. Why don't you send Simon on Monday, and Kori can come with him? "
"I can certainly ask them about it. I'm sure Simon would be OK with it. I don't know if I can speak for Kori."
"Oh, I think I can," Ian replied. "I've only met Kori twice - once at Cannon Lane and once at a party at the Catholic church, but he isn't a difficult boy to get to know. What you see is very much what you get. I'm pretty sure he'd enjoy the exercise, and he'd definitely be good at it."
the primary school came next. I was shown into Mr. Enfield's office.
"Mr. Enfield....."
"Don."
"Don.... Monica's funeral is fixed for next Wednesday. Is it a problem if I keep them off school till then?
"Jonah..... that is still alright isn't it?"
"Please"
"Jonah, Peter is a very sensitive boy. If he needs time off to grieve, or to come to terms with what has happened then he needs it. I wouldn't feel right insisting on his coming to school. As for Luke, well, I think you could probably do with having him around. Luke is a delightful boy to know, and I'm sure you find him so too."
"Thank you. Is there work that you want them to do while they're off?"
He shook his head.
"They wouldn't be able to concentrate on it anyway. Take as long as you need and send them back here when you're ready. Give me a ring when he's coming back, and I'll make sure there are people to keep an eye on Peter if he gets upset. I'm sure Luke will be alright."
Back at the bungalow all Hell was breaking loose. With the exception of Miriam and Jacob the entire assemblage was on their hands and knees as Cecilly led a barking competition. Jacob thought this hilarious and was delivering a running commentary, which it mattered not a jot that nobody understood.
Now you'd have thought that the obvious winner would be Howard, and I'll not venture to say that he wasn't. You'll note I did not venture to say it. To my dying day I shall insist that I didn't, but somebody did.
It was Cecilly who, at the last minute insisted on declaring Peter the winner since Howard had to be disqualified. The puppy had not been on his hands and knees, and that was most definitely in the rules.
TO BE CONTINUED