Addy's smile disappeared when she saw Raymond carry a bazooka into the kitchen, she pointed a finger at the canon and ordered Raymond to explain himself.
'I found this, literally found this lying around in one of the storerooms. Can you believe it? This thing can probably take down even the president's car with one hit.' Raymond cradled the bazooka with two arms, with pure delight written all across his face.
'It can also blow us all up if it goes off,' Addy said through the telecommunicator, 'You better take it outside. Is it loaded?'
'I found the missiles, but I couldn't carry them all up in one load, I'm going to go find a burlap sack to bring the ammo upstairs too.' Raymond made a move to go looking for the burlap sack.
'You better leave them, you're not an explosives expert.' Addy replied.
'So? I've studied weapons development, I know all about a bazooka.' Raymond turned to Dennis and said, 'I'm the only one in this family who had been to university, remember this fact.'
'You're also the only one to drop out of it.' Addy said.
'That's because I am a genius, and geniuses of my breed do not need diplomas or honours, I am above and beyond those items of insignificance, I am-'
'Stupid.' Addy finished the sentence for him.
'That only proves your jealousy. Tell me, which monumental genius of human history was recognised in his own time by his own people to the fullest extent? None. They all were misunderstood by their lesser peers and ostracised for their accomplishments. It's not a easy world for geniuses.'
Addy sighed and refused to rekindle this argument which they've had many times before. She turned back to Dennis and began typing, more words came out of the telecommunicator, 'So you've heard my plan, what do you think?'
During the time Addy and Raymond sparred, Dennis got up back onto his stool and sat there silently and politely waiting for the conversation to conclude. He thought Raymond's short paragraph about geniuses was very well spoken, and he was thinking about Raymond's question: which monumental genius of human history was recognised in his own time by his own people to the fullest extent? and trying to come up with an answer when Addy turned her attention back on him and asked him what he thought about her plan.
'Aristotle.' He said.
'What?' Addy typed.
'Aristotle, he was a recognised philosopher in his time and he was very popular.' Dennis said.
Raymond understood his response first, he said, 'But it wasn't until centuries later that greater geniuses discovered how wrong his doctrines were. That damaged rather than elevated his reputation.'
'That is not important,' Addy said frustratedly, 'How do you like my plan, Ray doesn't have the brains to give a credible opinion, I hope you do.'
'Will it work?' Dennis asked. He was still very full and the fall from the stool made his want to barf.
'It will, studies show that the best type of person to reunite an estranged family is an outsider.' Addy said.
'But that's not the only reason why we want you here,' Raymond added quickly, 'I always wanted a brother to follow in my footsteps and you are perfect for that.' He patted Dennis on the shoulder. 'Not to mention, if you do get the job done and us Wyatts become a pack again, I'll be able to collect a few more medals at the Music Olympics this coming year, and you can be our equipment manager during the trip, and we'll be able to do gigs, get invited to the philharmonics and the symphonics, and tour like we used to.'
'Dream on, I'm never playing in the same orchestra with you again.' Addy typed, 'You always second me to principal.' Even through the microphone, Addy's simulated voice had a tang of annoyance to it.
'You are musicians?' Dennis asked.
'The best in the world.' Raymond replied.
'Keep dreaming, you haven't even taken practicing seriously for the past two years.' Addy said.
'I'm a prodigy, I don't need to practice.' Raymond said, he shrugged.
'That's how prodigies sink to mediocrity.'
'Fine, but which one of us two here can play all of Paganini's Caprices?' Dennis knew that Niccolo Paganini was a violinist, so Addy and Raymond must both be violinists.
'You couldn't do his 24th.' Addy pointed out.
'I did so.'
'You used steroids.'
'Only once, just to see how it sounds once I get it up to speed.'
'And you didn't get it.'
'I did, only I didn't tell you, it would have hurt your feelings...and now I am doing just what I promised myself I wouldn't do.' Raymond sighed dramatically.
'Prove it.' Addy typed and crossed her arms, there was a scowl on her face.
'I'll get my violin.' Raymond said and walked out the kitchen door with the bazooka still in his hand.
'My brother's the biggest violin hot shot in the world, but not the best violinist, I can tell you that.'Addy typed. Dennis was having a slight trouble keeping up to speed himself, it was the rapidly shifting topic of the siblings' debates that were feeding him too much information he didn't understand.
'But that's the other thing I want to do too, the one Raymond brought up, we can compete in the Music Olympics as a quintet again if you get us back together.' Addy typed.
'You are renowned musicians?' Dennis asked with awe.
'Musicians yes, not renowned, I'm only twelve, that's too early to be renowned...but we were indeed very good.' Addy smiled, pleased about the subject. 'We, meaning Raymond and I and two of our other siblings, we formed a strings quartet, and my older sister accompanies us sometimes. That was three years ago. The most unbelievable thing about it is what Raymond chose to call the group, he came up with 'The Nuts Quartet', and that became our official title.' Dennis couldn't say anything.
'It's a reason for the Wyatt siblings to get back together,' Addy typed, 'We're a musical team, after all.'
Dennis thought of something; it was irrelevant to the topic at the time, but he blurted out anyway, 'So I'm kind of like Nanny McPhee...I mean about what you adopted me to do.'
Addy laughed, 'Kenny would have loved that reference.' She typed.
'Who's Kenny.' Dennis asked.
'He's-' Addy began but she was interrupted by Raymond, who once again burst into the kitchen carrying both a violin case and the bazooka, shouting, 'The storm is coming! The storm is coming! Oh take shelter, the storm is coming!'
Sunday 29 July 2012
Friday 27 July 2012
Chapter 7
Raymond woke up and exhaled deeply before Dennis, who sat on a stool thinking all this time he was unconscious. It was eight o'clock in the morning and the rhythmic beats of the pouring rain continued to tap against the window glasses of the Wyatt mansion, the sound of the water droplets echoed within the vast halls and chambers of the deserted house, for no other sounds exist to penetrate the deep silence.
'Well, isn't that a nice way to spend morning, being injected drugs by a member of my own family,' He rubbed his eyes and stood up. 'You know Dennis, I'm usually good with names, unlike this morning. I think it's the sedatives that's doing the damage, I'm going to tell Addy to stop doing it to me arguing on this very case, because without me, her already lackluster public relations are all flushing down the toilet.' Raymond gave a wink at Dennis and set about collecting a pan, a spatula, and bread and eggs and butter from one of the refrigerators.
'Would you like bacon, or potatoes?' Raymond asked, looking up from his bent position with all the breakfast supplies gathered in his arms.
'Bacon please.' Dennis replied.
'No need for please, no sir.' Raymond chuckled and asked, 'Crisp or chewy?'
'I don't know.' Dennis said.
'I'll fry a batch of each so you can make up your mind for next time.' Raymond took out a package of bacon too from the fridge and went over the one of the ovens and dumped everything onto the stove surface.
'Now the grand chef will prepare for you, Mr. Dennis Raveley, the best french toast and bacon you shall ever taste, it shall satisfy you to no end and have you salivating for more until your stomach retches, then you shall recommence feasting these tender delicacies all over again.' Raymond said in an exaggerated and convincing Italian accent as he set the pan on a burner and set about preparing breakfast.
There came a knock on the frame of the kitchen door and Dennis and Raymond saw that Addy had returned. She spoke to Raymond in a string of sign language, and Raymond replied speaking and he laid the bacon strips on the pan.
'What? What do you mean you don't want bacon? And no french toast? What are you, on a diet?' He said incredulously. Dennis found it a strange situation that seemed Raymond was talking to himself.
Addy made more gestures including to herself, and also to Dennis, and Raymond laughed, he said, 'Did nobody ever tell you that you're the skinniest of everyone in this family? Oh right, you never let anyone see you, that's right, you're a bit socially handicapped too. Three major shortcomings and they all fell on you, between us I think you're the unluckiest person of this generation.'
Addy held up her middle finger at Raymond.
'Be warned,' Raymond said to Dennis, still joking with vigor, 'The kid sister is about to strike hell upon us!'
Addy opened her mouth and screamed. Raymond covered his ears. Dennis wasn't so quick to a reaction and he was knocked off his stool and lay dazed on the floor. When Addy saw that Dennis was on the floor, she stopped screaming. Dennis got back up and rubbed his forehead. Raymond uncovered his ears and said, 'While she can't torment us verbally, she packs a heavy punch in this other median, one that you just witnessed.' Raymond said to Dennis apologetically.
Addy rolled her chair to Dennis and said, 'I'm sorry, I lost my temper,' in sign language.
'That's fine, I emerge undamaged.' Raymond said. Addy gave him a dirty look.
'I'm okay.' Dennis said, he forgot that Addy could not hear him.
Addy nodded and smiled, she pulled him up to his feet. She made some gestures towards Raymond, who said, 'She said she can lip read, and she understands what you said.'
Addy gestured about something else, and Raymond held his palms up and said, 'Hey, I'm not acting translator here, Dennis, you better learn how to sign fast, because if you don't, I can't help anymore than I already am.' Addy slapped her forehead in frustration.
Dennis must have looked very surprised, because both Raymond and Addy grinned and Addy made some more gestures, Raymond translated, 'She said being deaf doesn't stop her from communicating,' Raymond lowered his voice to a whisper, 'But she's already such a hermit it would have made practically no difference whatsoever if it had been other-' he didn't finish his sentence because Addy picked up a rolling pin from the cutting table and hurled it at Raymond, who dodged at the last second to avoid a head shot, he fried the bacon, and then the french toast in silence, having had his fun teasing for the day. He wore a grin all this time and ducked two more utensils hurled with accuracy at his head by Addy during the remainder of his cooking time. He served the breakfast dishes in twenty minutes flat.
When Dennis tasted Raymond's cooking, true to Raymond's words, he stuffed himself silly. Dennis never had a strong appetite, and he surprised himself by finishing two full plates of food, plus a glass of mango puree. Addy ate relatively little, and Raymond continued his gibing by trying to spoon-feed her. She took out another syringe and Raymond jumped away like when a deer hears a twig snap. Raymond excused himself when he finished his meal ahead of Addy and Dennis and declared he was going down to the dungeons to scavenge for forgotten goods.
Addy again used her laptop to speak to Dennis, once they have both finished their meals and Dennis was having trouble getting up from his chair.
'Now that we're alone again, I want to clear up some loose ends, you only got to ask one question while we were outside, I imagine you still have a lot you want to know about.' She typed and the telecommunicator was turned on again.
'I can't think of anything,' Dennis said, breathing heavily, 'I'm too full.'
'Okay then,' Addy smiled, 'I will place myself in your shoes and answer all your questions that way. So, the first question you might be wondering about is why we adopted you.'
Dennis nodded, he didn't know who the 'we' stood for.
'It might seem shocking, but as you might have guessed we, that is Raymond and I, we don't live with our parents.' Addy began, 'That is the truth, we, the Wyatt siblings were brought up to look after ourselves, and there's nothing more to it. I said earlier that the people who would have lived in this house had circumstances occurred differently are currently estranged, that is also the truth.
'There are seven Wyatt siblings, I am the seventh youngest, Raymond is the fourth. One of them lives on the other side of this country, two live abroad, and I don't know where the eldest twins are. And that is the current state of my, should we say dysfunctional family. My ancestor amassed a large fortune and the later generations built upon that foundation, that is why as you can see we are quite wealthy.
'This is where you come in, Dennis. My family had drifted apart, and I want to bring them back together; to make this house feel like a large home once more. To do that, I need someone to bring the pieces together, and that's where you come in.'
Dennis took in and processed this odd information, he said, 'I'm going to be a social worker?'
Addy giggled, 'Jerry would have loved that comment.'
'Who's Jerry?' Dennis asked.
'Raymond's first younger brother; Karla can't stand him.'
'Who's Karla?'
'My cousin, she visits here often and on short notice.'
'So am I going to be a social worker?' Dennis asked, amused with a bulging stomach.
'Someone like that, you are going to draw my siblings back into this family.' Addy concluded.
Dennis thought about what he should say; he didn't feel he fits the criteria for a social worker, he was too young for that. He also didn't feel like an expert on family, he never had one. 'I don't know a lot about family.' He finally said.
'You don't have to, you just have to come with me and Raymond to visit our estranged siblings and get to know them, and then report what you find out to me, so I can come up with a bonding solution.' Addy broke down laughing after finishing off this sentence, interrupted by giggles, she said, 'It sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?'
'Ah-ha! Even the brain of the house admits it! What did I tell you!' Raymond entered the kitchen in a sudden and surprised Dennis (who sat facing the doorway) to the extend that he fell off his stool again. Raymond was carrying a bazooka.
'Well, isn't that a nice way to spend morning, being injected drugs by a member of my own family,' He rubbed his eyes and stood up. 'You know Dennis, I'm usually good with names, unlike this morning. I think it's the sedatives that's doing the damage, I'm going to tell Addy to stop doing it to me arguing on this very case, because without me, her already lackluster public relations are all flushing down the toilet.' Raymond gave a wink at Dennis and set about collecting a pan, a spatula, and bread and eggs and butter from one of the refrigerators.
'Would you like bacon, or potatoes?' Raymond asked, looking up from his bent position with all the breakfast supplies gathered in his arms.
'Bacon please.' Dennis replied.
'No need for please, no sir.' Raymond chuckled and asked, 'Crisp or chewy?'
'I don't know.' Dennis said.
'I'll fry a batch of each so you can make up your mind for next time.' Raymond took out a package of bacon too from the fridge and went over the one of the ovens and dumped everything onto the stove surface.
'Now the grand chef will prepare for you, Mr. Dennis Raveley, the best french toast and bacon you shall ever taste, it shall satisfy you to no end and have you salivating for more until your stomach retches, then you shall recommence feasting these tender delicacies all over again.' Raymond said in an exaggerated and convincing Italian accent as he set the pan on a burner and set about preparing breakfast.
There came a knock on the frame of the kitchen door and Dennis and Raymond saw that Addy had returned. She spoke to Raymond in a string of sign language, and Raymond replied speaking and he laid the bacon strips on the pan.
'What? What do you mean you don't want bacon? And no french toast? What are you, on a diet?' He said incredulously. Dennis found it a strange situation that seemed Raymond was talking to himself.
Addy made more gestures including to herself, and also to Dennis, and Raymond laughed, he said, 'Did nobody ever tell you that you're the skinniest of everyone in this family? Oh right, you never let anyone see you, that's right, you're a bit socially handicapped too. Three major shortcomings and they all fell on you, between us I think you're the unluckiest person of this generation.'
Addy held up her middle finger at Raymond.
'Be warned,' Raymond said to Dennis, still joking with vigor, 'The kid sister is about to strike hell upon us!'
Addy opened her mouth and screamed. Raymond covered his ears. Dennis wasn't so quick to a reaction and he was knocked off his stool and lay dazed on the floor. When Addy saw that Dennis was on the floor, she stopped screaming. Dennis got back up and rubbed his forehead. Raymond uncovered his ears and said, 'While she can't torment us verbally, she packs a heavy punch in this other median, one that you just witnessed.' Raymond said to Dennis apologetically.
Addy rolled her chair to Dennis and said, 'I'm sorry, I lost my temper,' in sign language.
'That's fine, I emerge undamaged.' Raymond said. Addy gave him a dirty look.
'I'm okay.' Dennis said, he forgot that Addy could not hear him.
Addy nodded and smiled, she pulled him up to his feet. She made some gestures towards Raymond, who said, 'She said she can lip read, and she understands what you said.'
Addy gestured about something else, and Raymond held his palms up and said, 'Hey, I'm not acting translator here, Dennis, you better learn how to sign fast, because if you don't, I can't help anymore than I already am.' Addy slapped her forehead in frustration.
Dennis must have looked very surprised, because both Raymond and Addy grinned and Addy made some more gestures, Raymond translated, 'She said being deaf doesn't stop her from communicating,' Raymond lowered his voice to a whisper, 'But she's already such a hermit it would have made practically no difference whatsoever if it had been other-' he didn't finish his sentence because Addy picked up a rolling pin from the cutting table and hurled it at Raymond, who dodged at the last second to avoid a head shot, he fried the bacon, and then the french toast in silence, having had his fun teasing for the day. He wore a grin all this time and ducked two more utensils hurled with accuracy at his head by Addy during the remainder of his cooking time. He served the breakfast dishes in twenty minutes flat.
When Dennis tasted Raymond's cooking, true to Raymond's words, he stuffed himself silly. Dennis never had a strong appetite, and he surprised himself by finishing two full plates of food, plus a glass of mango puree. Addy ate relatively little, and Raymond continued his gibing by trying to spoon-feed her. She took out another syringe and Raymond jumped away like when a deer hears a twig snap. Raymond excused himself when he finished his meal ahead of Addy and Dennis and declared he was going down to the dungeons to scavenge for forgotten goods.
Addy again used her laptop to speak to Dennis, once they have both finished their meals and Dennis was having trouble getting up from his chair.
'Now that we're alone again, I want to clear up some loose ends, you only got to ask one question while we were outside, I imagine you still have a lot you want to know about.' She typed and the telecommunicator was turned on again.
'I can't think of anything,' Dennis said, breathing heavily, 'I'm too full.'
'Okay then,' Addy smiled, 'I will place myself in your shoes and answer all your questions that way. So, the first question you might be wondering about is why we adopted you.'
Dennis nodded, he didn't know who the 'we' stood for.
'It might seem shocking, but as you might have guessed we, that is Raymond and I, we don't live with our parents.' Addy began, 'That is the truth, we, the Wyatt siblings were brought up to look after ourselves, and there's nothing more to it. I said earlier that the people who would have lived in this house had circumstances occurred differently are currently estranged, that is also the truth.
'There are seven Wyatt siblings, I am the seventh youngest, Raymond is the fourth. One of them lives on the other side of this country, two live abroad, and I don't know where the eldest twins are. And that is the current state of my, should we say dysfunctional family. My ancestor amassed a large fortune and the later generations built upon that foundation, that is why as you can see we are quite wealthy.
'This is where you come in, Dennis. My family had drifted apart, and I want to bring them back together; to make this house feel like a large home once more. To do that, I need someone to bring the pieces together, and that's where you come in.'
Dennis took in and processed this odd information, he said, 'I'm going to be a social worker?'
Addy giggled, 'Jerry would have loved that comment.'
'Who's Jerry?' Dennis asked.
'Raymond's first younger brother; Karla can't stand him.'
'Who's Karla?'
'My cousin, she visits here often and on short notice.'
'So am I going to be a social worker?' Dennis asked, amused with a bulging stomach.
'Someone like that, you are going to draw my siblings back into this family.' Addy concluded.
Dennis thought about what he should say; he didn't feel he fits the criteria for a social worker, he was too young for that. He also didn't feel like an expert on family, he never had one. 'I don't know a lot about family.' He finally said.
'You don't have to, you just have to come with me and Raymond to visit our estranged siblings and get to know them, and then report what you find out to me, so I can come up with a bonding solution.' Addy broke down laughing after finishing off this sentence, interrupted by giggles, she said, 'It sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?'
'Ah-ha! Even the brain of the house admits it! What did I tell you!' Raymond entered the kitchen in a sudden and surprised Dennis (who sat facing the doorway) to the extend that he fell off his stool again. Raymond was carrying a bazooka.
Wednesday 25 July 2012
Chapter 6
Addy led Dennis down several darkened halls into a brightly lit chamber, the main kitchen. It was an impressive and monstrous room, an enormous cutting board lay in the middle of the wooden floor, two refrigerators, two stove top ovens and two basin sinks line the far wall with the windows overlooking the patio, a smaller sink and the majority of the cupboards took up the adjacent wall, and the opposite wall was made up of a dumbwaiter, a door to the wine cellar, another door to the basements, broom closets, a fireplace and cooking pots and pans hung by hooks on the whitewashed wall surface. The fourth wall was where Addy came in through the main sliding doors into the kitchen with Dennis in toll, pushing her chair along. A dining table was also backed on this wall. Beside this table table lay a young man in his twenties, he was unconscious prior and was just waking up. There was a small syringe jutting from his chest.
The young man came to a moment after Addy and Dennis entered. He sat up, rubbing his forehead and said while looking at Addy and the new arrival sleepily, 'Whoa, my little sister got a boyfriend.'
Addy tried to pay little attention to him but she was clearly amused and annoyed also by the young man's remark; Dennis was puzzled. 'Just in time.' Addy typed to Dennis, 'Meet my brother, a half-wit who is a decade older than me and a decade less mature than me.'
'Correction there, I happen to be a decade older, a decade wiser and a decade more handsome than my sister here.' Raymond grinned, motioning a thumb in Addy's direction, 'Mr. Raveley, I am the right honorable Raymond Wyatt.' Raymond extended a hand for Dennis to shake, he made no attempt to get up from his semi-risen position on the ground or take the syringe out of his chest, 'You may address me as Mister Raymond Harold Albert Frederick Timothy Wyatt, Esquire.'
Dennis didn't know how to reply to that, so Raymond continued, 'And you are to bow in my presence on one knee, order in effect this moment.' Addy barely suppressed a giggle, Dennis still didn't know how to respond, his mouth was open, Raymond grinned again and said, 'Just kidding, you can call me Raymond or just Ray, now help me up.'
Dennis pulled Raymond up to his feet and Raymond extracted the needle of the syringe from his body, wincing in the process, and held it up to Addy, 'If you keep injecting sedatives into me everything I attempt to aid your work, I just might become an addict.'
'You were distracting me.' Addy typed, looking at him maliciously.
'Only to correct what I thought was incorrect information on your part. Every host needs a fact-checker.' Raymond maintained.
'Not someone with an inferior intelligence such as yourself.' Addy typed. 'Put that transmitter on the table, so you don't have to carry it around.' said Addy to Dennis, who complied. She cranked up the volume of the transmitter using one of the many nobs on it, with another nob, she turned up the audio-reception range, so she could see what Raymond and Dennis were both saying.
Raymond didn't say anything, he smiled giddily and with buried affection. Raymond's age was twenty-one years old, but his expression spoke of a much younger, careless and naive self he had not grown out of. Dennis decided that he liked Raymond Wyatt too.
Now,' Raymond turned back to Dennis and said, 'Since you are new to the humble home of the Wyatts, I welcome your residence with uttermost zest, Mr. Raveley, and I must request your first name which has thus far eluded me.' Addy laughed and let her face sink into her hands.
'I'm Dennis.' Dennis said.
'Ah, so that's it, I remember it now! Mr. Dennis Raveley, welcome, I say, welcome to your home,' Raymond lowered his voice to a whisper, 'I know you are adopted into this family because my lonely sister wants a play date, but do not let that come between us, I always wanted another brother.' He patted Dennis on the back and then sank to the ground, unconscious. There was a syringe in his back.
'Don't worry about him, the sedative has no side-effects.' Addy said, rolling her chair away from behind where Raymond had collapsed. 'You look very surprised.'
'I thought he's an younger brother.' Dennis said.
'Many have, always after meeting me before Raymond.' Addy replied. 'When they find out I'm the younger sibling, they could never guess how old I am. Take a guess, how old do you think I am?'
Dennis, like many before him, found guessing Addy's age a strangely challenging feat, he couldn't guess by her appearance, which seemed completely off-par with her worldliness and radiating intellect. 'Are you fifteen?' He said with the most uncertainty possible in a sentence short of stammering.
Addy laughed, she was barely able to type out what she wanted to say, 'No! I'm eleven. Can't you tell?'
'You don't look...I mean appear eleven.'
'And you don't appear thirteen either.'
'I don't?' Dennis did not have time to think about how Addy came to know his age spot-on.
'You appear ten or eleven, like me.'
Dennis could think of nothing to say, his mouth fell open and stayed open. Addy covered her mouth again, her eyes bemused. 'I have to go find Mr. Quincy, stay here and when Raymond wakes up tell him to prepare breakfast, that's one thing he's ever good at, cooking. In the meantime, by all means, look around, this is where Raymond and I spend much of our time, you'll become used to it in no time.' Addy left, leaving the telecommunicator and her closed laptop on the table.
Dennis sat down on a stool and looked around. He liked the kitchen setting very much. It began to rain outside and his thoughts were just like the raindrops splattering against the window glass, he didn't know where to begin a thread of thought about this strange new environment he was thrust into. The thing he was puzzled about most now was the circumstances of his adoption, which he didn't understand at all now that he was able to put thought into it, the question was: who adopted him? It couldn't possibly be Addy or Raymond, because from what he had learned from spending all those years in orphanages, no one adopts children but parents, and where he was at the moment, he saw no parents anywhere.
The young man came to a moment after Addy and Dennis entered. He sat up, rubbing his forehead and said while looking at Addy and the new arrival sleepily, 'Whoa, my little sister got a boyfriend.'
Addy tried to pay little attention to him but she was clearly amused and annoyed also by the young man's remark; Dennis was puzzled. 'Just in time.' Addy typed to Dennis, 'Meet my brother, a half-wit who is a decade older than me and a decade less mature than me.'
'Correction there, I happen to be a decade older, a decade wiser and a decade more handsome than my sister here.' Raymond grinned, motioning a thumb in Addy's direction, 'Mr. Raveley, I am the right honorable Raymond Wyatt.' Raymond extended a hand for Dennis to shake, he made no attempt to get up from his semi-risen position on the ground or take the syringe out of his chest, 'You may address me as Mister Raymond Harold Albert Frederick Timothy Wyatt, Esquire.'
Dennis didn't know how to reply to that, so Raymond continued, 'And you are to bow in my presence on one knee, order in effect this moment.' Addy barely suppressed a giggle, Dennis still didn't know how to respond, his mouth was open, Raymond grinned again and said, 'Just kidding, you can call me Raymond or just Ray, now help me up.'
Dennis pulled Raymond up to his feet and Raymond extracted the needle of the syringe from his body, wincing in the process, and held it up to Addy, 'If you keep injecting sedatives into me everything I attempt to aid your work, I just might become an addict.'
'You were distracting me.' Addy typed, looking at him maliciously.
'Only to correct what I thought was incorrect information on your part. Every host needs a fact-checker.' Raymond maintained.
'Not someone with an inferior intelligence such as yourself.' Addy typed. 'Put that transmitter on the table, so you don't have to carry it around.' said Addy to Dennis, who complied. She cranked up the volume of the transmitter using one of the many nobs on it, with another nob, she turned up the audio-reception range, so she could see what Raymond and Dennis were both saying.
Raymond didn't say anything, he smiled giddily and with buried affection. Raymond's age was twenty-one years old, but his expression spoke of a much younger, careless and naive self he had not grown out of. Dennis decided that he liked Raymond Wyatt too.
Now,' Raymond turned back to Dennis and said, 'Since you are new to the humble home of the Wyatts, I welcome your residence with uttermost zest, Mr. Raveley, and I must request your first name which has thus far eluded me.' Addy laughed and let her face sink into her hands.
'I'm Dennis.' Dennis said.
'Ah, so that's it, I remember it now! Mr. Dennis Raveley, welcome, I say, welcome to your home,' Raymond lowered his voice to a whisper, 'I know you are adopted into this family because my lonely sister wants a play date, but do not let that come between us, I always wanted another brother.' He patted Dennis on the back and then sank to the ground, unconscious. There was a syringe in his back.
'Don't worry about him, the sedative has no side-effects.' Addy said, rolling her chair away from behind where Raymond had collapsed. 'You look very surprised.'
'I thought he's an younger brother.' Dennis said.
'Many have, always after meeting me before Raymond.' Addy replied. 'When they find out I'm the younger sibling, they could never guess how old I am. Take a guess, how old do you think I am?'
Dennis, like many before him, found guessing Addy's age a strangely challenging feat, he couldn't guess by her appearance, which seemed completely off-par with her worldliness and radiating intellect. 'Are you fifteen?' He said with the most uncertainty possible in a sentence short of stammering.
Addy laughed, she was barely able to type out what she wanted to say, 'No! I'm eleven. Can't you tell?'
'You don't look...I mean appear eleven.'
'And you don't appear thirteen either.'
'I don't?' Dennis did not have time to think about how Addy came to know his age spot-on.
'You appear ten or eleven, like me.'
Dennis could think of nothing to say, his mouth fell open and stayed open. Addy covered her mouth again, her eyes bemused. 'I have to go find Mr. Quincy, stay here and when Raymond wakes up tell him to prepare breakfast, that's one thing he's ever good at, cooking. In the meantime, by all means, look around, this is where Raymond and I spend much of our time, you'll become used to it in no time.' Addy left, leaving the telecommunicator and her closed laptop on the table.
Dennis sat down on a stool and looked around. He liked the kitchen setting very much. It began to rain outside and his thoughts were just like the raindrops splattering against the window glass, he didn't know where to begin a thread of thought about this strange new environment he was thrust into. The thing he was puzzled about most now was the circumstances of his adoption, which he didn't understand at all now that he was able to put thought into it, the question was: who adopted him? It couldn't possibly be Addy or Raymond, because from what he had learned from spending all those years in orphanages, no one adopts children but parents, and where he was at the moment, he saw no parents anywhere.
Chapter 5
Situated some five paces away from Dennis was a girl of about eleven or twelve years of age, she sat in a collapsible wheelchair, a laptop balanced on her legs. Her hair was richly black and slightly curled, they came down to shoulder length and obscured a portion of her face, her skin color was milky white; a shade healthier looking than Dennis' colors. It could be assumed that they were related.
You must have many questions,' The voice said, coming from the telecommunicator, 'Now that I'm here, I will answer them.'
'Um...' Dennis thought, he looked at the device in his hand and then at the girl, 'What-I mean-is this you talking...um...in here?' He pointed at the microphone in the telecommunicator, raising it with the hand he was holding it with.
'It is, but I am not speaking, I am typing into my laptop.' The girl typed into her computer at an incredible speed and the voice from the telecommunicator said simultaneously. 'It's all technicalities, the words I type into my laptop are transcribed into an audio voice mode and sent wireless to the device in your hand, where you receive it. That is why the device is called a Verbal-Linguistic Transmitter.'
'The voice, it's the computer's voice.' Dennis said, he found it very difficult to match this person speaking to him with the monotonous voice of the telecommunicator, 'So how do you hear me?' He asked.
'Vice versa, the device transcribes your audio voice into words which I can read.' The girl said, 'Just more technicalities.'
'You do not speak-I mean, with your own voice?' Dennis asked.
The girl did not type out a response, she raised her left hand and rapidly spelled out a succession of gestures that Dennis did not understand, and then she typed, and the voice spoke, 'Do you know what those gestures mean?'
'They're in sign language.' Dennis said, recalling a book on non-verbal linguistics he had read in the library once and found really dull.
'Just then I had said: I am deaf.' The girl typed, 'I do have a voice that I can use, but I prefer this method with the laptop, it suits me better.' She looked up at Dennis and smiled. 'You look uncomfortable.'
'I'm...to me...the voice you are speaking with is strange.' Dennis said, a little embarrassed.
'I can change it for you, that's what I'll do,' She typed into her laptop and then typed some more, 'There, how does that sound?' The robotic male voice coming out of the telecommunicator transformed into a high-pitched girl's voice.
'It sounds better.' Dennis said.
'Don't you mean more suitable?' The girl said, smiling.
'Uh-hm, that's what I meant.' Dennis smiled too, but he did not meet her eye.
'I don't mind whichever voice I use, since I can't hear them myself, I could, but I like the silence. When you can't hear everything like most people, you can be a little selective on what you want to hear.' The girl typed, 'I believe we forgot our formal introductions, you are Dennis Raveley, and I am pleased to meet you,' She typed with one hand and manoeuvred her wheelchair towards Dennis, lifted his hand and shook it, 'I am Adelaide Wyatt, but that given name makes me feel like an old maid, call me Addy.'
'Good to meet you, Addy Wyatt.' Dennis said, their eyes met.
'You have very unique eyes, Dennis.' Addy said, 'They look nice.'
'Thank you, you have very nice hair,' Dennis said, 'It's unique.' Addy laughed, she did not need to type this instruction into her laptop, it came naturally.
Dennis did not remember the last time he had said something clever intentionally, he felt surprised as if discovering something on himself that he ever noticed before, like a birthmark (he still had not actually discovered a birth mark on himself). On that first day arriving at the Wyatt Mansion, Dennis formulated the opinion that he likes Addy Wyatt, despite knowing very little about her, and unknowingly to him, she felt the same way, despite already knowing all she could about him.
'Another rain is coming,' Addy typed, looking at the gray clouds rolling across the sky right above them. 'We should go inside and I'll introduce you to my brother, he will be delighted to see you, and remember what I've told you during the tour of our house, do not agree to his offers to take you on any sort of an 'adventure'. Can you push me?' Addy asked.
'Sure,' Dennis said and got behind the handles of Addy's wheelchair and together they headed back in the direction of the mansion.
'Can I ask a small question?' Dennis asked.
'Of course.'
'You have a large house, so a lot of people must live here, but I haven't seen anyone except you and Mr. Quincy, where are everyone else?'
'They're estranged and living elsewhere, right now, there's me, my brother, Mr. Quincy and you, and that's where you come in, you are going to help me make this house seem like a large house again.'
You must have many questions,' The voice said, coming from the telecommunicator, 'Now that I'm here, I will answer them.'
'Um...' Dennis thought, he looked at the device in his hand and then at the girl, 'What-I mean-is this you talking...um...in here?' He pointed at the microphone in the telecommunicator, raising it with the hand he was holding it with.
'It is, but I am not speaking, I am typing into my laptop.' The girl typed into her computer at an incredible speed and the voice from the telecommunicator said simultaneously. 'It's all technicalities, the words I type into my laptop are transcribed into an audio voice mode and sent wireless to the device in your hand, where you receive it. That is why the device is called a Verbal-Linguistic Transmitter.'
'The voice, it's the computer's voice.' Dennis said, he found it very difficult to match this person speaking to him with the monotonous voice of the telecommunicator, 'So how do you hear me?' He asked.
'Vice versa, the device transcribes your audio voice into words which I can read.' The girl said, 'Just more technicalities.'
'You do not speak-I mean, with your own voice?' Dennis asked.
The girl did not type out a response, she raised her left hand and rapidly spelled out a succession of gestures that Dennis did not understand, and then she typed, and the voice spoke, 'Do you know what those gestures mean?'
'They're in sign language.' Dennis said, recalling a book on non-verbal linguistics he had read in the library once and found really dull.
'Just then I had said: I am deaf.' The girl typed, 'I do have a voice that I can use, but I prefer this method with the laptop, it suits me better.' She looked up at Dennis and smiled. 'You look uncomfortable.'
'I'm...to me...the voice you are speaking with is strange.' Dennis said, a little embarrassed.
'I can change it for you, that's what I'll do,' She typed into her laptop and then typed some more, 'There, how does that sound?' The robotic male voice coming out of the telecommunicator transformed into a high-pitched girl's voice.
'It sounds better.' Dennis said.
'Don't you mean more suitable?' The girl said, smiling.
'Uh-hm, that's what I meant.' Dennis smiled too, but he did not meet her eye.
'I don't mind whichever voice I use, since I can't hear them myself, I could, but I like the silence. When you can't hear everything like most people, you can be a little selective on what you want to hear.' The girl typed, 'I believe we forgot our formal introductions, you are Dennis Raveley, and I am pleased to meet you,' She typed with one hand and manoeuvred her wheelchair towards Dennis, lifted his hand and shook it, 'I am Adelaide Wyatt, but that given name makes me feel like an old maid, call me Addy.'
'Good to meet you, Addy Wyatt.' Dennis said, their eyes met.
'You have very unique eyes, Dennis.' Addy said, 'They look nice.'
'Thank you, you have very nice hair,' Dennis said, 'It's unique.' Addy laughed, she did not need to type this instruction into her laptop, it came naturally.
Dennis did not remember the last time he had said something clever intentionally, he felt surprised as if discovering something on himself that he ever noticed before, like a birthmark (he still had not actually discovered a birth mark on himself). On that first day arriving at the Wyatt Mansion, Dennis formulated the opinion that he likes Addy Wyatt, despite knowing very little about her, and unknowingly to him, she felt the same way, despite already knowing all she could about him.
'Another rain is coming,' Addy typed, looking at the gray clouds rolling across the sky right above them. 'We should go inside and I'll introduce you to my brother, he will be delighted to see you, and remember what I've told you during the tour of our house, do not agree to his offers to take you on any sort of an 'adventure'. Can you push me?' Addy asked.
'Sure,' Dennis said and got behind the handles of Addy's wheelchair and together they headed back in the direction of the mansion.
'Can I ask a small question?' Dennis asked.
'Of course.'
'You have a large house, so a lot of people must live here, but I haven't seen anyone except you and Mr. Quincy, where are everyone else?'
'They're estranged and living elsewhere, right now, there's me, my brother, Mr. Quincy and you, and that's where you come in, you are going to help me make this house seem like a large house again.'
Monday 23 July 2012
Chapter 4
Dennis stared at the walkie-talkie, or whatever it may be, for quite some time. He scratched his head and didn't touch the thing. He was thoroughly confused, as he rarely was.
'Hello? Are you still there? You are still there, aren't you?' The voice sprang from the walkie-talkie, causing Dennis to jump back. 'Don't be silent, it can't be that surprising to you, could it?' The voice said.
Dennis tried to say something, the words did not form at his throat as they were not conceived in his mind. He took a deep breath and tried again, 'Wh-o are you?' He asked, rolling out the words slowly.
'I'm glad you asked, but I can't answer your question just yet, you will have your answer shortly.' There was a pause, 'Are you still capable of following instructions?'
'What instructions?' Dennis asked.
'Good, so you're not as confused as I thought. Here's what you must do: pick up the Verbal-Linguistic Transmitter.' The voice spoke monotonously.
'What's the Verbal-Linguistic Transmitter?' Dennis asked.
'Oh right, I didn't tell you, it's the thing sitting in the armchair that looks like a telecommunicator.'
'A telecommunicator? You mean the walkie-talkie?'
'The walkie-talkie? Is that what people call them these days?'
'I read it in a book.' Dennis said.
The telecommunicator/walkie-talkie/Verbal-Linguistic Transmitter was silent for a while, and this time Dennis picked it up and whispered, 'Hello?' into what he thought was the receiver, a bulge in the metal surface of the small device that looked like half a microphone. The device was only the size of a pocket dictionary.
'Hello? Sorry about the static, I was interrupted. I'm still here, so have you picked up the device in which my voice is emitting from?'
'Yes, and it's called a telecommunicator?' Dennis asked, feeling the need to get some facts straight.
'Let's not worry about names of communications devices for now, so you've picked up the device, now exit the room by the door.'
'Okay.' Dennis walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. He remembered something, 'Hello? I left my suitcase in the car I came by, can I go get it?'
'It's been delivered to your room,' Said the voice, 'There's no need to retrieve it now, right now I will take you on a tour of the mansion that is your new home. You just have to hand on to this device in your hand and I will tell you where to go.'
'Okay.' Said Dennis, looking down both ways of the hallway he was in, a narrow aisle extending to the front and back of the mansion. One end of the hall was completely covered in darkness, the other end was met with a wider hallway more brightly lit.
'And after that you will meet me in person, flesh and blood this time.' The voice said, 'Turn left and walk to the end of the hall, you will arrive in a wide hallway.' Dennis obeyed and walked to the wide hallway, it was decoratively carpeted and lit by dim lanterns on both sides of the red wood walls, there were other doors in the hallway and the ceiling was twelve feet from the ground, it was fashioned with mosaic tiles and arched upward towards the middle.
'Now turn left again, and keep walking.' Dennis did as the voice said, which spoke again to narrate the building's history; an omnipresent tour guide, 'This mansion was built around three centuries ago by the ancestor of my family, and the surrounding ten square kilometers of land are mine too, it explains why it took so long to drive you here. If you walked at a normal pace, you should now have arrived at the theater, immediately to your left.' Dennis looked to his left and found the double door with the plaque 'theater' embedded into the wood, the handles were padlocked. 'If you are wise, you will never attempt to enter there uninvited, I assure you there are booby traps in there that will injure you gravely. The theater belongs to my brother, whose obsession I will elaborate further at another time. Now keep walking and you will reach the second grand staircase, take a moment to gawk if you must, and through the doors to the right of the staircase is the library. The hallway should be about ended now, and you will come to an even wider hallway, this is the main hall spanning the width of the mansion. Avoid this hallway, today is an exception, there are other ways to get around the house, use those ways which I will show later show you, I repeat, stay out of the main hallway if you want to avoid getting struck by a motorcycle driven by my other brother who is mentally challenged-' The voice was suddenly cut off and static ensued, then it came on again, 'Sorry about that disconnection, there's a glaring error in the information just given, I am not mentally challenged! I repeat, I am not-' The voice became disconnected again, though the tone did not change, it appeared to Dennis that the person on the other end of the telecommunicator was experiencing an episode of split personality, and then it resumed just as suddenly, 'Okay, as I was saying, do not venture into the main hallway on a regular day, now, there are many other places to see, let's start in the basements, you will find the stairs leading there at the grand staircase, and directly opposite is the main entrance by which you came in with Mr. Quincy.'
'Is Mr. Quincy the chauffeur?' Dennis asked.
'He is.' The voice replied.
'Why doesn't he speak?' Dennis asked, remembering how the chauffeur did not say a single word to him during the trip here.
'People such as Mr. Quincy are paid to drive, not to speak.' The voice said, 'Moving on, down one flight of stairs is the main exit to the basements...' The voice guided Dennis to the places of interest in the mansion, including the wine cellar that was stocked with sodas, the ball room, the gym, the test-bunker (the voice said it is another place that Dennis should never enter uninvited, and even when he is, he should be wise to decline the offer), the toys storage (with enough objects to fill two toy stores), the main dining hall, kitchen and den, and then the voice guided Dennis to the outdoor pool on the large patio at the back of the mansion that overlooked a valley of pine and spruce.
Dennis stood by the railing of the patio for a while, the gusty wind blowing in his face and the lingering rainclouds rumbling overhead. The voice told him a bit about the surrounding lowland, which it referred to as the 'backyard' of the mansion. Apparently having concluded explaining the geographic features of its family's land, the voice fell silent. Dennis looked towards the pool, twenty-five meters in length, and recalled that he couldn't swim. He turned his sight away from the mansion, built of pale stone and cement and resembling a palace for a monarch. He looked once again out into the open of the valley beyond the patio; he liked the scenery.
'Hello? Are you there?' The voice said.
'I am, is the tour finished?' Dennis asked, his gaze remained fixed on the valley.
'It is, we are going back to the house for some breakfast, turn around.' The voice said.
Dennis turned around and nearly tripped over his leg in surprise.
'Hello, I am pleased to meet you.' Came the voice from the telecommunicator still clutched in his hand, while the person who had come up behind Dennis typed into a laptop with one hand, and raised the other hand to greet him.
'Hello? Are you still there? You are still there, aren't you?' The voice sprang from the walkie-talkie, causing Dennis to jump back. 'Don't be silent, it can't be that surprising to you, could it?' The voice said.
Dennis tried to say something, the words did not form at his throat as they were not conceived in his mind. He took a deep breath and tried again, 'Wh-o are you?' He asked, rolling out the words slowly.
'I'm glad you asked, but I can't answer your question just yet, you will have your answer shortly.' There was a pause, 'Are you still capable of following instructions?'
'What instructions?' Dennis asked.
'Good, so you're not as confused as I thought. Here's what you must do: pick up the Verbal-Linguistic Transmitter.' The voice spoke monotonously.
'What's the Verbal-Linguistic Transmitter?' Dennis asked.
'Oh right, I didn't tell you, it's the thing sitting in the armchair that looks like a telecommunicator.'
'A telecommunicator? You mean the walkie-talkie?'
'The walkie-talkie? Is that what people call them these days?'
'I read it in a book.' Dennis said.
The telecommunicator/walkie-talkie/Verbal-Linguistic Transmitter was silent for a while, and this time Dennis picked it up and whispered, 'Hello?' into what he thought was the receiver, a bulge in the metal surface of the small device that looked like half a microphone. The device was only the size of a pocket dictionary.
'Hello? Sorry about the static, I was interrupted. I'm still here, so have you picked up the device in which my voice is emitting from?'
'Yes, and it's called a telecommunicator?' Dennis asked, feeling the need to get some facts straight.
'Let's not worry about names of communications devices for now, so you've picked up the device, now exit the room by the door.'
'Okay.' Dennis walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. He remembered something, 'Hello? I left my suitcase in the car I came by, can I go get it?'
'It's been delivered to your room,' Said the voice, 'There's no need to retrieve it now, right now I will take you on a tour of the mansion that is your new home. You just have to hand on to this device in your hand and I will tell you where to go.'
'Okay.' Said Dennis, looking down both ways of the hallway he was in, a narrow aisle extending to the front and back of the mansion. One end of the hall was completely covered in darkness, the other end was met with a wider hallway more brightly lit.
'And after that you will meet me in person, flesh and blood this time.' The voice said, 'Turn left and walk to the end of the hall, you will arrive in a wide hallway.' Dennis obeyed and walked to the wide hallway, it was decoratively carpeted and lit by dim lanterns on both sides of the red wood walls, there were other doors in the hallway and the ceiling was twelve feet from the ground, it was fashioned with mosaic tiles and arched upward towards the middle.
'Now turn left again, and keep walking.' Dennis did as the voice said, which spoke again to narrate the building's history; an omnipresent tour guide, 'This mansion was built around three centuries ago by the ancestor of my family, and the surrounding ten square kilometers of land are mine too, it explains why it took so long to drive you here. If you walked at a normal pace, you should now have arrived at the theater, immediately to your left.' Dennis looked to his left and found the double door with the plaque 'theater' embedded into the wood, the handles were padlocked. 'If you are wise, you will never attempt to enter there uninvited, I assure you there are booby traps in there that will injure you gravely. The theater belongs to my brother, whose obsession I will elaborate further at another time. Now keep walking and you will reach the second grand staircase, take a moment to gawk if you must, and through the doors to the right of the staircase is the library. The hallway should be about ended now, and you will come to an even wider hallway, this is the main hall spanning the width of the mansion. Avoid this hallway, today is an exception, there are other ways to get around the house, use those ways which I will show later show you, I repeat, stay out of the main hallway if you want to avoid getting struck by a motorcycle driven by my other brother who is mentally challenged-' The voice was suddenly cut off and static ensued, then it came on again, 'Sorry about that disconnection, there's a glaring error in the information just given, I am not mentally challenged! I repeat, I am not-' The voice became disconnected again, though the tone did not change, it appeared to Dennis that the person on the other end of the telecommunicator was experiencing an episode of split personality, and then it resumed just as suddenly, 'Okay, as I was saying, do not venture into the main hallway on a regular day, now, there are many other places to see, let's start in the basements, you will find the stairs leading there at the grand staircase, and directly opposite is the main entrance by which you came in with Mr. Quincy.'
'Is Mr. Quincy the chauffeur?' Dennis asked.
'He is.' The voice replied.
'Why doesn't he speak?' Dennis asked, remembering how the chauffeur did not say a single word to him during the trip here.
'People such as Mr. Quincy are paid to drive, not to speak.' The voice said, 'Moving on, down one flight of stairs is the main exit to the basements...' The voice guided Dennis to the places of interest in the mansion, including the wine cellar that was stocked with sodas, the ball room, the gym, the test-bunker (the voice said it is another place that Dennis should never enter uninvited, and even when he is, he should be wise to decline the offer), the toys storage (with enough objects to fill two toy stores), the main dining hall, kitchen and den, and then the voice guided Dennis to the outdoor pool on the large patio at the back of the mansion that overlooked a valley of pine and spruce.
Dennis stood by the railing of the patio for a while, the gusty wind blowing in his face and the lingering rainclouds rumbling overhead. The voice told him a bit about the surrounding lowland, which it referred to as the 'backyard' of the mansion. Apparently having concluded explaining the geographic features of its family's land, the voice fell silent. Dennis looked towards the pool, twenty-five meters in length, and recalled that he couldn't swim. He turned his sight away from the mansion, built of pale stone and cement and resembling a palace for a monarch. He looked once again out into the open of the valley beyond the patio; he liked the scenery.
'Hello? Are you there?' The voice said.
'I am, is the tour finished?' Dennis asked, his gaze remained fixed on the valley.
'It is, we are going back to the house for some breakfast, turn around.' The voice said.
Dennis turned around and nearly tripped over his leg in surprise.
'Hello, I am pleased to meet you.' Came the voice from the telecommunicator still clutched in his hand, while the person who had come up behind Dennis typed into a laptop with one hand, and raised the other hand to greet him.
Saturday 21 July 2012
Chapter 3
The train took Dennis across three counties, and he stared out the window for the entire trip, except for meal times, when he was served by a waiter. The train did not pass through another city, and Dennis observed much rural land of the same appearance for the trip. Just before dinner time on the train, the thunderstorm stopped as the sky darkened for the night.
The train pulled into the fourth county station at twelve o'clock midnight, he was the only passenger to get off at the deserted station. The station platform was lit by a single line of streetlights, surrounded by seemingly solid and impenetrable blackness. Dennis watched the train pull out of the station after a five minute stop and into the darkness of the tracks beyond. He exited the station and found a car waiting for him.
The car was a shiny black vehicle, a four-wheel drive. It was parked just outside the entrance to the little station, where it would be the first thing anyone coming out of the station will see. The pebbled country road, not illuminated by streetlamps, stretched parallel to the train tracks, it disappeared into the darkness also.
The driver of the black car noticed Dennis before Dennis noticed him, he got out from the driver's seat and walked around to open the back door for Dennis. He held up a handwritten sign that read: 'Mr. Dennis Raveley'. Seeing the sign, Dennis nodded and the driver motioned with an arm for him to enter the vehicle.
The interior of the black car was equally polished as its exterior. The seats were leather, the space smelled of air fresheners, and the surfaces were dusted and clean. The driver started the engines, which made a low hum, and pulled out of the driveway of the train station and onto the country road.
For some time Dennis saw himself reflected in the rear mirror of the slick black car gliding silently in the night, and he looked at himself in that mirror, feeling sleepy. The driver gave him a pillow that was on the right side seat next to his, Dennis took it and laid down horizontally across the back seats, the pillow under his head. He thought about the mute driver, or perhaps a chauffeur was the profession of the man, and decided that he liked the stillness and silence of the ride, and was soon asleep.
When Dennis woke up, he found the chauffeur still driving unfatigued, and a look outside told him that it was now early morning. He had not dreamed during his sleep on the backseat of the car; Dennis rarely dreamed. The windows of the car were blurred by recent rain, which had started again during the night, and outside nothing could be made visible except for shades of indigo, light blue and flashes of yellow. A misty downpour covered the silent countryside like a thick blanket, accompanied by fog.
Dennis sat up and looked outside the windshield of the front of the car. The road stretched onwards into dense fog, there were few cars on the road with them. The chauffeur drove hunched over the steering wheel, most of his head concealed under a brown fedora, the same color of his trench coat. His face was unreadable. The windshield wipers swung back and forth at a rhythmic pace, clearing gathering raindrops and refreshing the same road scenery every few seconds. The stillness of the country before sunrise remained undisturbed.
Dennis saw that it was just after five o'clock in the morning. The car stopped.
Dennis looked around to see if they've arrived at the destination, all around him he saw forests. There was no sign of a house in sight. The chauffeur exited the car as swiftly as a light wind, he opened the back door at Dennis' side and motioned for him to exit too. Dennis hesitated and got out of the car. When he did and was standing, the chauffeur took out a band of cloth and wrapped it around Dennis' head, covering his vision. The chauffeur did this in a matter of seconds and tied the knot at the back. He put one hand then on Dennis' shoulder, who was by this point very puzzled, and Dennis assumed it was a gesture to indicate comfort.
The chauffeur helped Dennis back into his seat inside the car and resumed driving. Dennis stroked the blindfold covering his vision; he was unfamiliar with the knot, and it seemed to be fastened to his head with something other than the knot, something like glue.
Dennis had read a book shortly before about how to tie different types of knots, ironically he found no instruction in the book on how to undo the knots which were shown with precise directions and diagram. Dennis thought it was quite humorous. The rain beats against the windshields quickened and Dennis fell back into a sleep listening to the quite and serene tap of water drops against glass, which happened in this case to be bullet proof, though Dennis did not notice that. He slept sitting up.
Dennis was shaken awake after some time. The car had stopped again and the chauffeur helped Dennis out of the car. Dennis still had the blindfold across his eyes. The chauffeur led Dennis with a hand on his shoulder from pebbled ground onto tiled, and then carpeted flooring. They turned left, then right, then right and right again. Before the final right, Dennis was stopped and heard a door open, he was led into the doorway and finally seated on a cushioned chair. He heard the chauffeur leave without a word. The door was closed.
'Hello.' A toneless, suspiciously mechanical voice said.
'Hello?' Dennis said. He turned his head this way and that, and tried to take the blindfold off, it slid off his head effortlessly. Surprised, Dennis examined the piece of cloth in his hand, it seemed to have nothing special to it. Dennis blinked to adjust to the dim lighting of the room he was in, and found himself in a private office of some kind, the room was a square and lit by a single chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the floor was covered by a simple brown carpet, and the only significant piece of furniture was a wide mahogany desk with nothing on it. Behind the desk rests a swivel armchair, the huge backrest facing Dennis, obstructing whoever seated in the chair.
'Hello, welcome.' The voice began, 'Welcome to the mansion, have you taken off your blindfold?'
'Yes,' Dennis said, wondering if he was being watched.
'Great, now, come over here and meet me in person.' The voice said.
Dennis stood up and walked over to the armchair, he reached out a hand and turned the backrest around. There was no one in the chair. He looked down and found a device that resembles a walkie-talkie.
The train pulled into the fourth county station at twelve o'clock midnight, he was the only passenger to get off at the deserted station. The station platform was lit by a single line of streetlights, surrounded by seemingly solid and impenetrable blackness. Dennis watched the train pull out of the station after a five minute stop and into the darkness of the tracks beyond. He exited the station and found a car waiting for him.
The car was a shiny black vehicle, a four-wheel drive. It was parked just outside the entrance to the little station, where it would be the first thing anyone coming out of the station will see. The pebbled country road, not illuminated by streetlamps, stretched parallel to the train tracks, it disappeared into the darkness also.
The driver of the black car noticed Dennis before Dennis noticed him, he got out from the driver's seat and walked around to open the back door for Dennis. He held up a handwritten sign that read: 'Mr. Dennis Raveley'. Seeing the sign, Dennis nodded and the driver motioned with an arm for him to enter the vehicle.
The interior of the black car was equally polished as its exterior. The seats were leather, the space smelled of air fresheners, and the surfaces were dusted and clean. The driver started the engines, which made a low hum, and pulled out of the driveway of the train station and onto the country road.
For some time Dennis saw himself reflected in the rear mirror of the slick black car gliding silently in the night, and he looked at himself in that mirror, feeling sleepy. The driver gave him a pillow that was on the right side seat next to his, Dennis took it and laid down horizontally across the back seats, the pillow under his head. He thought about the mute driver, or perhaps a chauffeur was the profession of the man, and decided that he liked the stillness and silence of the ride, and was soon asleep.
When Dennis woke up, he found the chauffeur still driving unfatigued, and a look outside told him that it was now early morning. He had not dreamed during his sleep on the backseat of the car; Dennis rarely dreamed. The windows of the car were blurred by recent rain, which had started again during the night, and outside nothing could be made visible except for shades of indigo, light blue and flashes of yellow. A misty downpour covered the silent countryside like a thick blanket, accompanied by fog.
Dennis sat up and looked outside the windshield of the front of the car. The road stretched onwards into dense fog, there were few cars on the road with them. The chauffeur drove hunched over the steering wheel, most of his head concealed under a brown fedora, the same color of his trench coat. His face was unreadable. The windshield wipers swung back and forth at a rhythmic pace, clearing gathering raindrops and refreshing the same road scenery every few seconds. The stillness of the country before sunrise remained undisturbed.
Dennis saw that it was just after five o'clock in the morning. The car stopped.
Dennis looked around to see if they've arrived at the destination, all around him he saw forests. There was no sign of a house in sight. The chauffeur exited the car as swiftly as a light wind, he opened the back door at Dennis' side and motioned for him to exit too. Dennis hesitated and got out of the car. When he did and was standing, the chauffeur took out a band of cloth and wrapped it around Dennis' head, covering his vision. The chauffeur did this in a matter of seconds and tied the knot at the back. He put one hand then on Dennis' shoulder, who was by this point very puzzled, and Dennis assumed it was a gesture to indicate comfort.
The chauffeur helped Dennis back into his seat inside the car and resumed driving. Dennis stroked the blindfold covering his vision; he was unfamiliar with the knot, and it seemed to be fastened to his head with something other than the knot, something like glue.
Dennis had read a book shortly before about how to tie different types of knots, ironically he found no instruction in the book on how to undo the knots which were shown with precise directions and diagram. Dennis thought it was quite humorous. The rain beats against the windshields quickened and Dennis fell back into a sleep listening to the quite and serene tap of water drops against glass, which happened in this case to be bullet proof, though Dennis did not notice that. He slept sitting up.
Dennis was shaken awake after some time. The car had stopped again and the chauffeur helped Dennis out of the car. Dennis still had the blindfold across his eyes. The chauffeur led Dennis with a hand on his shoulder from pebbled ground onto tiled, and then carpeted flooring. They turned left, then right, then right and right again. Before the final right, Dennis was stopped and heard a door open, he was led into the doorway and finally seated on a cushioned chair. He heard the chauffeur leave without a word. The door was closed.
'Hello.' A toneless, suspiciously mechanical voice said.
'Hello?' Dennis said. He turned his head this way and that, and tried to take the blindfold off, it slid off his head effortlessly. Surprised, Dennis examined the piece of cloth in his hand, it seemed to have nothing special to it. Dennis blinked to adjust to the dim lighting of the room he was in, and found himself in a private office of some kind, the room was a square and lit by a single chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the floor was covered by a simple brown carpet, and the only significant piece of furniture was a wide mahogany desk with nothing on it. Behind the desk rests a swivel armchair, the huge backrest facing Dennis, obstructing whoever seated in the chair.
'Hello, welcome.' The voice began, 'Welcome to the mansion, have you taken off your blindfold?'
'Yes,' Dennis said, wondering if he was being watched.
'Great, now, come over here and meet me in person.' The voice said.
Dennis stood up and walked over to the armchair, he reached out a hand and turned the backrest around. There was no one in the chair. He looked down and found a device that resembles a walkie-talkie.
Chapter 2
During the taxi ride to the train station, Dennis took a short nap; he didn't dream.
When he woke up, the taxi was parked on the side of the road of the grand entrance of the central train station, a large, cement structure with fifty feet columns and floor to ceiling windows. People went to and fro about the plaza in front of the station like water in a rapid. Dennis had been to the downtown a few times, but he had never been inside the train station, and had never taken a train. He felt a little excitement about what he was about to embark on, and then he was interrupted by the taxi driver, who knocked on the glass separating the front and back seats of the cab.
'Hey, are you going to give me a tip or not?' The driver inquired.
'I don't know.' Dennis snapped his attention back to the driver and said.
'Well, you've been sitting back there for two minutes now, that's two extra minutes of charge.'
'How much do you want?' Dennis asked, still looking outside.
'How much do you got?'
Dennis checked his wallet, he found three quarters he had picked up off the street in the past five months. There were also many pennies and dimes and nickels in there. 'Do you accept loose change?' Dennis asked.
'What do you think?' The driver said, annoyed.
'Here.' Dennis dumped the coins from his wallet into his palm and then gave them over to the driver through a hole in the glass panel separating the front and back seats. The driver caught most of the coins, while some others slipped through his fingers.
'Are you kidding me?' The driver said, looking at the coins in his palm.
'Some of the pennies are collectables, I don't collect coins, maybe you do, or you can start a collection with these.' Dennis said.
'Okay buddy, listen-' The driver had to crank his neck sideways to see Dennis eye to eye and express his displeasure that Dennis was wasting him time, when he did, he stopped and said nothing mid-sentence.
Dennis looked at the large clock above the train station's grand entrance, the hour hand was five spaces before ten o'clock. 'I have to catch my train, thank you for the ride.' He said and exited the taxi.
With his suitcase, Dennis mounted the stairs and past the doors into the grand lobby of the station among a huge crowd. He looked for the entrance to platform nine, found it, and descended the stairs to the platform corridor, joining a line of people waiting to have their tickets checked at the booth near the end of the hallway. After being admitted past the last gate, Dennis walked onto the platform and saw the long shiny train, he tool a moment to take in the image of the large locomotive, and then boarded.
He found out that his seat was in first class near the front of the train, and it was a window seat. He sat alone in one of two seats facing each other with a small table between them. Dennis put his suitcase in the other seat and looked outside without shifting his gaze, his head pressed against the window glass panel, all the way until the train pulled out of the station and he was interrupted of his concentration.
'Hi.' A high pitched voice said, nearby. Dennis did not pay attention the first time.
'Hi, are you listening?' The same voice asked.
Dennis turned around and said, 'Hello.' There was a little girl of about five years old leaning on the small table next to his seat. She was wearing a coat, like him, and it was brown, like his.
'What are you looking at?' She asked.
'Nothing in particular.' Dennis replied.
'You look sad.' She said.
'I do?' Dennis kept his gaze focused on the carpeted floor all this time, so he reasoned it must look to someone else that he is sullen.
'You look bored too.'
'I could be, I don't know.'
'I'm bored too, I don't have anything to do.'
'Okay.' Dennis said.
'Are you sad? I think you are.'
'Actually,' Dennis lifted his head and looked at her, 'Not really, I feel fine.' He smiled slightly.
'Your eyes are weird.' The girl said, her face puzzled.
'They are?'
'Uh-hm, your eyes are too big.'
'You mean the pupils?' Dennis had answered this question before to less judgmental people who did not immediately dislike him for his eyes.
'What are pupils?' The girl asked.
'They're the circles at the center of your eyes that lets you see things, they're black, but I guess you don't see any black circles in my eyes, right?'
'Yep, does that mean you don't have pupils?'
'No I have them alright, but mine are hard to see because they are the same color as my irises.'
'What are irises?'
'It's hard to explain if you can't see for yourself.'
'Show me.'
'Okay,' Dennis got up and said, 'There's a mirror in the washrooms, I can show you there.'
The girl followed Dennis to the washroom and the end of the compartment. The washroom was small, so Dennis went in after the girl and they leaned against the sink counter to look in the mirror.
'See the black circles at the center of your eyes?' Dennis asked, the girl nodded, and he continued, 'The brown loop around those black circles on your eyes, those are the irises, and you have brown irises. Now look at my eyes, my irises are gray-'
'Why?' The girl asked.
'Different people have different colored irises, yours are brown, mine are gray, and someone else can be green. It's like skin color, there's a lot of variety.' Dennis explained, 'Now, my irises are gray, and my pupils are also gray, if I don't have pupils I won't be able to see, but since I do see and can see you and everything around us, I do have them. My pupils are the same color as my irises, that's why you can't see the difference, and that's why you think my eyes look weird.'
The girl looked in the mirror at her eyes, and then at Dennis' eyes for a few more moments, and then she said, 'Most people have pupils that are easy to see, so why don't you?'
'I'm a special case.' Dennis said.
'Why?' She asked.
'I don't know.' Dennis shrugged and said, 'I haven't found out-' He was interrupted by a woman, who flung open the door to the washroom. When she saw the girl and then Dennis, her face was flushed with anger with a hint of confusion.
'What do you think you are doing with my daughter!' The woman shouted furiously. This exclamation caught the attention of everyone in the compartment and the next one.
The girl turned around and said, 'Hi mommy!' Her face broke into a grin.
Dennis said, 'I was showing her what irises are in the mirror.' He did not look around.
The woman was not convinced one bit, she grabbed Dennis by the arms and pulled him to her face, 'Listen you-' She stopped suddenly when their eyes met. She backed away, her hand reached up to cover her mouth, and she quickly ushered the little girl away without another word.
Dennis looked back at the mirror reflection of himself. He left the washroom and walked down the aisle the in the other direction back to his seat, the passengers stared at him, but he stared at the ground the whole way. When he returned to his seat, he sat and continued to stare outside. The train was reaching the county line and stretches of farmland composed a majority of the green scenery. It began to rain and there was thunder after a time as the raindrops gathered momentum.
Dennis thought it would be nice to have a camera, he wanted to take a picture of a lightning strike.
When he woke up, the taxi was parked on the side of the road of the grand entrance of the central train station, a large, cement structure with fifty feet columns and floor to ceiling windows. People went to and fro about the plaza in front of the station like water in a rapid. Dennis had been to the downtown a few times, but he had never been inside the train station, and had never taken a train. He felt a little excitement about what he was about to embark on, and then he was interrupted by the taxi driver, who knocked on the glass separating the front and back seats of the cab.
'Hey, are you going to give me a tip or not?' The driver inquired.
'I don't know.' Dennis snapped his attention back to the driver and said.
'Well, you've been sitting back there for two minutes now, that's two extra minutes of charge.'
'How much do you want?' Dennis asked, still looking outside.
'How much do you got?'
Dennis checked his wallet, he found three quarters he had picked up off the street in the past five months. There were also many pennies and dimes and nickels in there. 'Do you accept loose change?' Dennis asked.
'What do you think?' The driver said, annoyed.
'Here.' Dennis dumped the coins from his wallet into his palm and then gave them over to the driver through a hole in the glass panel separating the front and back seats. The driver caught most of the coins, while some others slipped through his fingers.
'Are you kidding me?' The driver said, looking at the coins in his palm.
'Some of the pennies are collectables, I don't collect coins, maybe you do, or you can start a collection with these.' Dennis said.
'Okay buddy, listen-' The driver had to crank his neck sideways to see Dennis eye to eye and express his displeasure that Dennis was wasting him time, when he did, he stopped and said nothing mid-sentence.
Dennis looked at the large clock above the train station's grand entrance, the hour hand was five spaces before ten o'clock. 'I have to catch my train, thank you for the ride.' He said and exited the taxi.
With his suitcase, Dennis mounted the stairs and past the doors into the grand lobby of the station among a huge crowd. He looked for the entrance to platform nine, found it, and descended the stairs to the platform corridor, joining a line of people waiting to have their tickets checked at the booth near the end of the hallway. After being admitted past the last gate, Dennis walked onto the platform and saw the long shiny train, he tool a moment to take in the image of the large locomotive, and then boarded.
He found out that his seat was in first class near the front of the train, and it was a window seat. He sat alone in one of two seats facing each other with a small table between them. Dennis put his suitcase in the other seat and looked outside without shifting his gaze, his head pressed against the window glass panel, all the way until the train pulled out of the station and he was interrupted of his concentration.
'Hi.' A high pitched voice said, nearby. Dennis did not pay attention the first time.
'Hi, are you listening?' The same voice asked.
Dennis turned around and said, 'Hello.' There was a little girl of about five years old leaning on the small table next to his seat. She was wearing a coat, like him, and it was brown, like his.
'What are you looking at?' She asked.
'Nothing in particular.' Dennis replied.
'You look sad.' She said.
'I do?' Dennis kept his gaze focused on the carpeted floor all this time, so he reasoned it must look to someone else that he is sullen.
'You look bored too.'
'I could be, I don't know.'
'I'm bored too, I don't have anything to do.'
'Okay.' Dennis said.
'Are you sad? I think you are.'
'Actually,' Dennis lifted his head and looked at her, 'Not really, I feel fine.' He smiled slightly.
'Your eyes are weird.' The girl said, her face puzzled.
'They are?'
'Uh-hm, your eyes are too big.'
'You mean the pupils?' Dennis had answered this question before to less judgmental people who did not immediately dislike him for his eyes.
'What are pupils?' The girl asked.
'They're the circles at the center of your eyes that lets you see things, they're black, but I guess you don't see any black circles in my eyes, right?'
'Yep, does that mean you don't have pupils?'
'No I have them alright, but mine are hard to see because they are the same color as my irises.'
'What are irises?'
'It's hard to explain if you can't see for yourself.'
'Show me.'
'Okay,' Dennis got up and said, 'There's a mirror in the washrooms, I can show you there.'
The girl followed Dennis to the washroom and the end of the compartment. The washroom was small, so Dennis went in after the girl and they leaned against the sink counter to look in the mirror.
'See the black circles at the center of your eyes?' Dennis asked, the girl nodded, and he continued, 'The brown loop around those black circles on your eyes, those are the irises, and you have brown irises. Now look at my eyes, my irises are gray-'
'Why?' The girl asked.
'Different people have different colored irises, yours are brown, mine are gray, and someone else can be green. It's like skin color, there's a lot of variety.' Dennis explained, 'Now, my irises are gray, and my pupils are also gray, if I don't have pupils I won't be able to see, but since I do see and can see you and everything around us, I do have them. My pupils are the same color as my irises, that's why you can't see the difference, and that's why you think my eyes look weird.'
The girl looked in the mirror at her eyes, and then at Dennis' eyes for a few more moments, and then she said, 'Most people have pupils that are easy to see, so why don't you?'
'I'm a special case.' Dennis said.
'Why?' She asked.
'I don't know.' Dennis shrugged and said, 'I haven't found out-' He was interrupted by a woman, who flung open the door to the washroom. When she saw the girl and then Dennis, her face was flushed with anger with a hint of confusion.
'What do you think you are doing with my daughter!' The woman shouted furiously. This exclamation caught the attention of everyone in the compartment and the next one.
The girl turned around and said, 'Hi mommy!' Her face broke into a grin.
Dennis said, 'I was showing her what irises are in the mirror.' He did not look around.
The woman was not convinced one bit, she grabbed Dennis by the arms and pulled him to her face, 'Listen you-' She stopped suddenly when their eyes met. She backed away, her hand reached up to cover her mouth, and she quickly ushered the little girl away without another word.
Dennis looked back at the mirror reflection of himself. He left the washroom and walked down the aisle the in the other direction back to his seat, the passengers stared at him, but he stared at the ground the whole way. When he returned to his seat, he sat and continued to stare outside. The train was reaching the county line and stretches of farmland composed a majority of the green scenery. It began to rain and there was thunder after a time as the raindrops gathered momentum.
Dennis thought it would be nice to have a camera, he wanted to take a picture of a lightning strike.
Thursday 19 July 2012
Chapter 1
Dennis Raveley had unique eyes; not many people liked those eyes when they first met him, and thus not many people came to like him, after first disliking those eyes of his.
His eyes were a dark grayish color that suited his extremely pale face. So pale was this face that should he lay down inside a coffin and remained still, an observer could have mistaken him for dead. This appearance caused people to believe he is sick and call him 'a sickly boy'. Dennis did not mind this, because in a strange way he was pleased about how he looked and always possessed a fair reservoir of self-esteem as the result of such positive self image, all in spite of his loveless upbringing.
Dennis was neglected since the very beginning of his life and developed no strong attachment to any thing or any person, he was rarely bothered during much of his youth, and fairly early he had decided to be content with the lonely existence he was bestowed with. Dennis liked to read; there was a bookshelf filled with small volumes in the first orphanage he had lived in and he went there often in pass-time, reading found him something to do, because the matrons in the first orphanage he lived in took little notice of him and life in the orphanage was uneventful. In the orphanages he lived in that didn't have books, he walked and even when the library was beyond typical walking distance. He liked to read non-fiction, including the dictionary, because he had the persisting curiosity of wanting to know what everything is, and how everything works. It started when he was taken to the hospital to get a vaccination for a flu, and noticed the little sticks with cotton wrapped around the ends which the doctor used to dab iodine onto his skin before administering the needle, he didn't know what they were called then, and found out (they were called cotton swabs), though he didn't remember when this event took place that provoked his ultimate hobby of collection small pieces of facts and vocabulary. The more he read, the more he realized that he knew less, so he read more and felt great when he acquired new information. He always liked libraries and enjoyed stocking his own mind like one. Dennis led a solitary, almost robotic life.
Dennis changed orphanages once every one or two years, each time being handed to orphanages that accept older children, it was like outgrowing his clothes and getting new pairs, and he switched orphanages often because no one had wanted to adopt him; he was too old and too terrible looking, largely due to those eyes of him that people took immediate dislike to. His irises are dark gray, not unlike other people, but in his gray irises it was difficult to determine where his pupils are, for they were dark gray too, not black. This peculiarity was the reason why people disliked him for his eyes, those dark gray circles disturbed and unsettled them, and gave the impression that there are no eyes at all, only emptiness. The cornea of his eyes also contributed to the unsettling appearance; they did not reflect light. Although he was very much alive and quite healthy if not slightly without malnutrition, one look into his eyes seemed to dissuade that belief. People rarely looked Dennis in the eyes even when they spoke to him.
On a cloudy day in November that forecasted rain, Dennis was called to the matron's office on the early morning. He was shook awake and went in his pajamas to the office on the first floor. His bedroom in the second floor dorms was not shared by anyone, for he was the oldest yet again at his latest orphanage and the matron did not trust him with a roommate. Dennis yawned and entered the office of the matron, and did not meet the matron's eyes. He sat down on the single chair facing the matron's desk, though he wasn't directed to, he didn't mind.
'I never said you could sit down, Dennis.' The matron said and tapped her fingers upon the broad desk she sat behind. Dennis nodded, he stood back up.
'Now, say, Ms, may I sit?' The matron directed him.
'No thank you, I'll stand.' Dennis said politely.
The matron pursed her lips and remained silent for a moment. Then she said, 'I don't suppose you want to know why I called you down here at this time of the morning.'
'Probably.' Said Dennis.
'Probably?'
'Probably.' Dennis replied.
'What's that supposed to mean?' The matron challenged.
'I don't know whether I want to know why you called me down at this time of the morning, so probably is the best answer since it can mean the affirmative or the negative.'
The matron did not say anything again, she only continued after realizing that Dennis would say nothing more, 'You are arranged to leave this place.' The matron said plainly.
'Okay.' Dennis said, it had only been five months at the orphanage he was lodging in, it was his shortest stay yet.
'A family has adopted you.' The matron said, realizing she would not have any success to provoke some excitement out of this child resident of the orphanage, who was no longer even a child; Dennis was thirteen years old. 'They have sent by mail the instructions you are to follow. I have called a taxi to take you to the train station, where you are to take the ten o'clock train to the 4th country stop on the gray line, a car will pick you up there to take you to your new home.' She gave him a slip of paper on which the directions were written in neat handwriting. There was also one train ticket.
The matron opened a thick portfolio containing the records of all the children of the orphanage, this was to be Dennis' farewell address. She came to a sheet of records belonging to Dennis, she read over it and said, 'You've only been with us five months, and you've stayed at nine homes prior to this, I hope you are grateful a family has agreed to look after you, children your age don't have much luck left getting adoption, you are very fortunate. You should be very grateful.'
'Okay.' Dennis said and smiled, 'I enjoyed staying here too, there is a library nearby.'
The matron did not know what to say to this statement. She continued, 'Yes, the family that has adopted you is very wealthy, you are very fortunate indeed, do you know that?'
'I think I do.' Dennis said.
'Then you will behave accordingly, cause no trouble for your new guardians, and I do not wish to see you again, understood?'
'Understood.' Dennis replied.
'You may go. Your things have been packed by Maddy, remember to thank her before you go, and change out of your nightwear, there is a change of clothes for you in your room, your suitcase is there too.' The matron dismissed him with a wave of her hands. Dennis turned around to leave.
'Dennis Raveley,' the Matron said, wanting to finish something she had in her mind that she had saved for the entire duration of Dennis' stay at her institution, ever since the first she's laid eyes on him and decided she didn't like him one bit, 'I simply can not imagine what this family was thinking when they decided to adopt you, because quite frankly I can't imagine one thing they might have found likable about you, I myself can not think of one such reason, because I don't like you, and at the other institutions they said the same things, and I agree completely. You are very, very fortunate someone even gave the thought of taking you in as their own.' Dennis turned around to face the matron as she expressed her first and final thoughts about him, and waited patiently for her to finish, as he had always done. The matron then said, 'The family did not even come here to see him for themselves, they must be a blind bunch.' This she said mostly to herself, but Dennis still stayed to listen.
'Now why are you still here? You are discharged, remember to behave yourself, and I do not want to see you again, understood?' The matron gestured with a wave of her hand for Dennis to remove himself from her presence.
'Good bye, Ms. Craven.' Dennis said, and his stare met that of the matron's. The matron Ms. Craven froze, she sat befuddled and stunned in her armchair as Dennis turned and left forever.
The early morning chill sharpened Dennis' senses and made him fully awake as he stepped outside from the main entrance of the orphanage, his last one, and entered the taxi waiting there on the curb for him, holding a small suitcase in one hand. He thanked Maddy the dean before he left, but did not look at her in the eye.
Dennis had on a brown coat, one blue shirt, one pair of faded jeans that was gray and loose and old brogues two sizes too large for his feet. He wore no hat and his dark hair fluttered in the breeze. He put his other hand into the pocket of his jacket, and was surprised to find something within its depth, an earring. He took out the pin-sized jewellery and wondered where he had obtained it, he put it back into his coat pocket. The sun was rising pale and distant over the skyline, the skyscrapers of downtown stood like black pillars extending into space from his angle in the little quiet street where the Victorian style orphanage was built. Dennis looked around the street within his vicinity, looked back at the front steps of his tenth and final orphanage, admired the vintage oak doors one last time, and got into the yellow taxi.
His eyes were a dark grayish color that suited his extremely pale face. So pale was this face that should he lay down inside a coffin and remained still, an observer could have mistaken him for dead. This appearance caused people to believe he is sick and call him 'a sickly boy'. Dennis did not mind this, because in a strange way he was pleased about how he looked and always possessed a fair reservoir of self-esteem as the result of such positive self image, all in spite of his loveless upbringing.
Dennis was neglected since the very beginning of his life and developed no strong attachment to any thing or any person, he was rarely bothered during much of his youth, and fairly early he had decided to be content with the lonely existence he was bestowed with. Dennis liked to read; there was a bookshelf filled with small volumes in the first orphanage he had lived in and he went there often in pass-time, reading found him something to do, because the matrons in the first orphanage he lived in took little notice of him and life in the orphanage was uneventful. In the orphanages he lived in that didn't have books, he walked and even when the library was beyond typical walking distance. He liked to read non-fiction, including the dictionary, because he had the persisting curiosity of wanting to know what everything is, and how everything works. It started when he was taken to the hospital to get a vaccination for a flu, and noticed the little sticks with cotton wrapped around the ends which the doctor used to dab iodine onto his skin before administering the needle, he didn't know what they were called then, and found out (they were called cotton swabs), though he didn't remember when this event took place that provoked his ultimate hobby of collection small pieces of facts and vocabulary. The more he read, the more he realized that he knew less, so he read more and felt great when he acquired new information. He always liked libraries and enjoyed stocking his own mind like one. Dennis led a solitary, almost robotic life.
Dennis changed orphanages once every one or two years, each time being handed to orphanages that accept older children, it was like outgrowing his clothes and getting new pairs, and he switched orphanages often because no one had wanted to adopt him; he was too old and too terrible looking, largely due to those eyes of him that people took immediate dislike to. His irises are dark gray, not unlike other people, but in his gray irises it was difficult to determine where his pupils are, for they were dark gray too, not black. This peculiarity was the reason why people disliked him for his eyes, those dark gray circles disturbed and unsettled them, and gave the impression that there are no eyes at all, only emptiness. The cornea of his eyes also contributed to the unsettling appearance; they did not reflect light. Although he was very much alive and quite healthy if not slightly without malnutrition, one look into his eyes seemed to dissuade that belief. People rarely looked Dennis in the eyes even when they spoke to him.
On a cloudy day in November that forecasted rain, Dennis was called to the matron's office on the early morning. He was shook awake and went in his pajamas to the office on the first floor. His bedroom in the second floor dorms was not shared by anyone, for he was the oldest yet again at his latest orphanage and the matron did not trust him with a roommate. Dennis yawned and entered the office of the matron, and did not meet the matron's eyes. He sat down on the single chair facing the matron's desk, though he wasn't directed to, he didn't mind.
'I never said you could sit down, Dennis.' The matron said and tapped her fingers upon the broad desk she sat behind. Dennis nodded, he stood back up.
'Now, say, Ms, may I sit?' The matron directed him.
'No thank you, I'll stand.' Dennis said politely.
The matron pursed her lips and remained silent for a moment. Then she said, 'I don't suppose you want to know why I called you down here at this time of the morning.'
'Probably.' Said Dennis.
'Probably?'
'Probably.' Dennis replied.
'What's that supposed to mean?' The matron challenged.
'I don't know whether I want to know why you called me down at this time of the morning, so probably is the best answer since it can mean the affirmative or the negative.'
The matron did not say anything again, she only continued after realizing that Dennis would say nothing more, 'You are arranged to leave this place.' The matron said plainly.
'Okay.' Dennis said, it had only been five months at the orphanage he was lodging in, it was his shortest stay yet.
'A family has adopted you.' The matron said, realizing she would not have any success to provoke some excitement out of this child resident of the orphanage, who was no longer even a child; Dennis was thirteen years old. 'They have sent by mail the instructions you are to follow. I have called a taxi to take you to the train station, where you are to take the ten o'clock train to the 4th country stop on the gray line, a car will pick you up there to take you to your new home.' She gave him a slip of paper on which the directions were written in neat handwriting. There was also one train ticket.
The matron opened a thick portfolio containing the records of all the children of the orphanage, this was to be Dennis' farewell address. She came to a sheet of records belonging to Dennis, she read over it and said, 'You've only been with us five months, and you've stayed at nine homes prior to this, I hope you are grateful a family has agreed to look after you, children your age don't have much luck left getting adoption, you are very fortunate. You should be very grateful.'
'Okay.' Dennis said and smiled, 'I enjoyed staying here too, there is a library nearby.'
The matron did not know what to say to this statement. She continued, 'Yes, the family that has adopted you is very wealthy, you are very fortunate indeed, do you know that?'
'I think I do.' Dennis said.
'Then you will behave accordingly, cause no trouble for your new guardians, and I do not wish to see you again, understood?'
'Understood.' Dennis replied.
'You may go. Your things have been packed by Maddy, remember to thank her before you go, and change out of your nightwear, there is a change of clothes for you in your room, your suitcase is there too.' The matron dismissed him with a wave of her hands. Dennis turned around to leave.
'Dennis Raveley,' the Matron said, wanting to finish something she had in her mind that she had saved for the entire duration of Dennis' stay at her institution, ever since the first she's laid eyes on him and decided she didn't like him one bit, 'I simply can not imagine what this family was thinking when they decided to adopt you, because quite frankly I can't imagine one thing they might have found likable about you, I myself can not think of one such reason, because I don't like you, and at the other institutions they said the same things, and I agree completely. You are very, very fortunate someone even gave the thought of taking you in as their own.' Dennis turned around to face the matron as she expressed her first and final thoughts about him, and waited patiently for her to finish, as he had always done. The matron then said, 'The family did not even come here to see him for themselves, they must be a blind bunch.' This she said mostly to herself, but Dennis still stayed to listen.
'Now why are you still here? You are discharged, remember to behave yourself, and I do not want to see you again, understood?' The matron gestured with a wave of her hand for Dennis to remove himself from her presence.
'Good bye, Ms. Craven.' Dennis said, and his stare met that of the matron's. The matron Ms. Craven froze, she sat befuddled and stunned in her armchair as Dennis turned and left forever.
The early morning chill sharpened Dennis' senses and made him fully awake as he stepped outside from the main entrance of the orphanage, his last one, and entered the taxi waiting there on the curb for him, holding a small suitcase in one hand. He thanked Maddy the dean before he left, but did not look at her in the eye.
Dennis had on a brown coat, one blue shirt, one pair of faded jeans that was gray and loose and old brogues two sizes too large for his feet. He wore no hat and his dark hair fluttered in the breeze. He put his other hand into the pocket of his jacket, and was surprised to find something within its depth, an earring. He took out the pin-sized jewellery and wondered where he had obtained it, he put it back into his coat pocket. The sun was rising pale and distant over the skyline, the skyscrapers of downtown stood like black pillars extending into space from his angle in the little quiet street where the Victorian style orphanage was built. Dennis looked around the street within his vicinity, looked back at the front steps of his tenth and final orphanage, admired the vintage oak doors one last time, and got into the yellow taxi.
Wednesday 18 July 2012
The Introduction (Just so I don't have to start writing chapter 1 immediately)
This is the story of Dennis Raveley, but the focus of the story will not be on him, he is a part of a greater story that he plays a minor part in, that story is the story of a large family with plenty of secrets, like top-secret secrets, classified secrets, dangerous secrets, embarrassing secrets, secrets that can unleash violence, emotional-luggage secrets, etc.
So far it certainly looks like a thriller novel of some kind, I can only say it's heading in that direction, because nothing is certain in Dennis Raveley's story (he said so himself during an intermission).
This novel was originally started on the blog 'woodysmoody', since that draft, there have been some modifications made to the story, characters, etc. The version of Dennis Raveley on that draft is now discontinued (it does have 18 chapters, you are free to read it if you like), this version here, I hope, is the final say (this storyline to me is like a rubik's cube, I've been twiddling with it for quite some time. It might even undergo more modifications!)
G!
So far it certainly looks like a thriller novel of some kind, I can only say it's heading in that direction, because nothing is certain in Dennis Raveley's story (he said so himself during an intermission).
This novel was originally started on the blog 'woodysmoody', since that draft, there have been some modifications made to the story, characters, etc. The version of Dennis Raveley on that draft is now discontinued (it does have 18 chapters, you are free to read it if you like), this version here, I hope, is the final say (this storyline to me is like a rubik's cube, I've been twiddling with it for quite some time. It might even undergo more modifications!)
G!
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