Castle Juliet

by Brandon Berntson

  It would be fun, Alice thought, to ride Sue to school everyday. Her mother, of course, said it wasn’t a good idea, and it wouldn’t fair well with the other kids who still had to walk.

  So, school started in early January, and the snow was still piled high. Alice and Jack trekked together every morning, Jack meeting Alice at her house, and together, they walked the rest of the way. Jack, like his father, wore his new scarf, gloves, and hat. He was proud of them, and in even in the classroom, he wore the scarf proudly around his neck. Alice wondered if Jack’s father was doing the same thing in his shop downtown.

  A new boy was in school when the second semester began. He sat at the back corner of the classroom, two seats to the right of Alice. His name was Lance Holcolm, and he looked every inch the renegade, a parody of Tork McGuckin and his Randy Band of Rebel Survivors. No doubt, Lance would be initiated into that group soon enough, if he hadn’t been already. The boy was tall, thick, and stolid, three times the size of Jack and Alice. He had a military cut and, like Tork and his Randy Band of Survivors, Lance wore dirty, baggy jeans, black boots, and a white T-shirt under a denim vest with the sleeves cut off. When Jack and Alice saw him outside, he wore no other clothes, despite the low temperatures. The brute was a polar bear. Jack and Alice wondered if he’d been held back a year or two, because he seemed far older and obviously larger than any other kid. Lance’s face was virtually diabolical and bullish. He had beady eyes, a pug nose, and a perpetual snarl. His glare bordered on soulless. He wore black bracelets, a chain connecting his wallet to his belt loop.

  Mrs. Dermott had already called on him once during a reading assignment. In defiance, Lance folded his arms, cocked his head and glared at Mrs. Dermott for several minutes. Mrs. Dermott looked afraid. She called on Sally McBiel (the best reader in the classroom), but Sally stumbled over almost every word as she tried to read. Sally felt Lance’s eyes boring into the back of her brain, as though her reading were a deliberate attack against him. Sally was in tears by the time she finally finished.

  Despite all this, it wasn’t a bad beginning to the second semester. Jack did everything he could to focus on school, and Alice continued to instruct him patiently along the way. He grew quicker and quicker in his adaptations, and sometimes, he even taught Alice a few things, or Gerald and Jane, which continued to warrant a round of laughter around the dinner table.

  Alice congratulated Jack on all this, and his grades continued to improve. There was great pleasure in watching Jack succeed, because Jack’s success—in a way, Alice thought—was her own. Alice was a great teacher, and Jack was a fine student, if not easily frustrated. What would he do, he once told her, if they weren’t in the same class, or in the same school?

  Things continued at their normal pace as January moved into February. The Christmas lights, trees, and decorations were taken down. Fred stopped by Alice’s house regularly to check on Sue. He was happy to see Alice taking her out as often as possible. Sue, Fred told her, seemed genuinely happy in her new home, much to the relief of Fred.

  The snow came and went, melted, and came again. February brought a dormant, even deeper, biting cold. Sometimes, Jack’s lessons were postponed due to the dramatic drop in temperature, and Jack would stay home helping his dad around the house, doing homework, or finding new ways to concoct meals for his dad. This all happened because Alice’s sandwiches had been so successful. No matter how these meals turned out (not all of them were such a hit), Phillip wolfed them down eagerly.

  At night, the clouds cleared, making the stars bright over Storyville. The snow turned hard, like crust, and the temperature continued to drop.

  Alice grew worried for Sue and mentioned running a space heater out to the shed, but Fred reassured Alice that Sue was just fine. Horses have stood the test of times, and they adjust easily, he’d said. Still, despite the cold, she wanted to ride Sue all the time, and didn’t like leaving her alone. Boxer barked from the window, starved for attention, and she waved, and took Sue out, bundled up, determined to ride, keep her cowboy hat on, and Sue from getting lonely. She hated thinking of Sue out here by herself in the freezing weather, thought maybe she was spoiling her. Every morning, before school, she went outside, stood on the chair, and hugged and kissed Sue before Jack showed up. Everyday when she came home, she did the same thing, saying how nice it was to see her after being at school. Her mother watched all this from the kitchen window, smiling proudly. Sue understood Alice was her protector, it seemed, her guardian and friend, and she perked up whenever Alice was near. Sue would snort, flick her ears, toss her head, excited to see her, and Alice would laugh in reply. Sometimes, Sue would whinny or neigh, much to the delight of Alice.

  The invitations for dinner grew frequent as well, and Phillip and Jack stopped by as often as once or twice a week to have supper with the Skylar’s. Fred, too, became part of these get-together’s, and the house—during these winter nights—grew warm and loud with laughter. Phillip, Gerald, and Fred all got along astoundingly well, sometimes acting like children, playing juvenile games for everyone else’s amusement. Boxer, too, was excited as the house warmed with company. It was busier now than it had been at the Skylar residence, even if there were no more holidays to celebrate. Fred, especially, was always extremely grateful and sincere to be stopping by, kissing Jane’s palm or bowing like an eccentric gentleman from long ago. Boxer took a particular liking to Fred, and often curled up in his lap, while Fred absent-mindedly stroked the dog behind its ears.

  Alice thought back to her life a year ago, to Christmas a year ago, and how simple and quiet it had been then. Now, it was anything but quiet. She couldn’t believe it. Strange, how there were all these people in the house now, yet it still seemed like family. Fred talked about a sister he had in California, how much he missed her, how his father had been a man who loved horses ever since he could remember. She started to think of Fred as Uncle Fred, and Phillip as Uncle Phillip. Maybe it was a lingering effect from the holidays, making the rounds, carried over from year to year, anxious to see what the next would bring.

  Alice grew amazed and pleasantly surprised by all this. Jack continued to blow invisible smoke rings at the ceiling.

  What a strange world, Alice thought. What a strange, wonderful, and beautiful world.

  *

  “So, what do you think, Jack?”

  Alice and Jack were sitting at the back of class; Lance was sitting two desks to their right and up a row. They were carefully watching Lance, and how he hadn’t said anything it seemed, in the time he’d been here. He’d scowled several times at Jack and Alice, because Jack and Alice were best friends, which, for some reason, was difficult for Lance to understand. Once, while standing in the lunch line, Lance had caught Jack looking at him.

  “What’s got you so marveled, pipsqueak?” Lance asked, eyes like boiling pitch.

  “Uh…” Jack stammered, suddenly breaking into a cold sweat. Alice looked on, eyes going wide. Even her freckles paled. “Uh…I was just…uh….thinking that if you and the Incredible Hulk got in a fight, the Incredible Hulk wouldn’t stand a chance. Right, Alice?”

  “Uh huh,” Alice said, nodding her head.

  Lance shook his head, glared balefully at Jack for a few seconds, then looked elsewhere.

  Jack also steered away from Lance, looking at everything except Lance, telling himself the bully was like a No Trespassing Zone, and if he looked in that direction, he’d be electrocuted.

  Now, they were sitting in class, and Lance was sitting where he was, and Alice and Jack, unwisely, were talking about him. Alice was scared Lance would overhear, and that would be the end of it. Lance would take Jack outside by the scruff of his neck, rub his face in the dirt, and no amount of ear-biting would calm the pressure cooker Lance was.

  “I’m surprised he hasn’t asked for our lunch money, yet,” Jack said.

  “I don’t think anyone dares talk to him,” Alice said. “He scares everybody.”

  “Maybe he just needs a fr
iend,” Jack said, looking at Lance.

  “Oh, Jack,” Alice said, shaking her head. “That’s just the kind of thing you would do. Please don’t. Just leave him alone.”

  “I heard his father is an alcoholic and beats him,” Jack said.

  “I don’t believe that,” Alice said. “People just like to spread rumors.”

  Lance sat doodling onto his notebook: the names of rock- and-roll bands, scary faces, graveyards, and all the merciless, malicious things bullies doodled on their notebooks across the globe.

  “Just promise me something, Jack,” Alice said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Just don’t start anything. Leave him alone, and don’t get yourself in any trouble.”

  “Okay, Alice. I promise.”

  Outside, the snow continued to fall. February was approaching its end, and March was right around the corner. Soon, things would be warming up again, and the world would be coming to life, turning green. It was something to look forward to, because once spring arrived, that meant summer was on its way, and Jack would be free to explore the glory of his imagination, and all the places it could take him without the pressures of school. What adventures would the summer bring, Alice thought? As long as Jack could stay away from Tork McGuckin, and now, apparently, Lance, everything would be okay.

  Alice sat and listened to Mrs. Dermott. She watched the snow fall in huge flakes outside the window with her chin on her hand, suddenly dreamy herself.

  *

  The storm arrived in Storyville on March 3rd. Christmas had brought with it plenty of snow, but it had been nothing compared to this. School closed along with some of the neighborhood stores. Four feet of snow fell on Storyville, and the storm lasted four days. Telephone lines were down. Sue was barely visible from the shed. Boxer yelped and played, loving every minute of it, and everything that hadn’t already been buried in white was buried now. Alice and Jack had never seen a snowstorm quite like it, and they couldn’t contact each other because of the telephone lines. Alice had no idea how Jack and his father were. It seemed useless to pull out the shovels. Better to just wait and see how much more snow the storm would bring. Alice couldn’t help being enamored, breathless at the sight, all that pure white powder, the lazy way it fell—unconcerned with anything at all.

  “Good thing we got plenty of wood,” Gerald said. He was putting more logs on the fire. Boxer lay sleeping, completely content in his warm bed. Jane had the house smelling savory as usual. Alice sat on the couch and gazed out the window.

  “Alice, are you all right?” her mother asked.

  Alice nodded. “Just watching the snow, Mom.”

  “Do you want to watch television of something?” Jane asked.

  Alice shook her head. “I just want to watch the snow. I have a feeling this will be the last one we’ll see for a while. Spring is almost here.”

  “Alice, I thought you hated winter,” Gerald said. “You never really liked it before.”

  “It was the best winter, the best Christmas ever,” Alice said. “I guess, in some way, I just don’t want it to end. Everything about it was perfect. I think maybe winter might be my favorite season now.”

  “Well, maybe spring will bring some surprises of its own.” Jane said. “Each season has its own special magic, Alice.”

  Alice turned to her mother and smiled. “You always know when to say the perfect things, Mom, you know that?”

  “That’s what Mother’s are for, dear,” Jane said. “Why don’t you help me with dinner while your father warms the house.”

  *

  The quiet of winter slipped away easily, and though there was sadness at its parting, it proved to make way for spring. There was a special magic here in Storyville, because Storyville was a world all its own.

  As Alice watched the snow fall, Jack and his father were in the cottage doing the same thing. The radio said everyone should remain indoors. All the curtains were open. A fire blazed in the fireplace, a warm, pleasant sound of crackling, popping logs.

  “What are you thinking about, Jacky-boy?” Phillip asked. He stood by his son in that early afternoon and placed a hand on his shoulder. Jack was standing by the large front window where the Christmas tree had been, watching the snow fall in a magical, white wonderland.

  “Do you think Mom misses us, Dad?”

  Phillip looked down at Jack and squeezed his shoulder. “Do you miss your mom a lot still, Jack?”

  “Yeah,” Jack said. “But I don’t know. It’s weird. It’s like I don’t worry about it or anything anymore, because I think she’s really happy now, and that she loves us no matter what. That she doesn’t worry about us, and we don’t worry about her.”

  “I get that feeling a lot, too, Jacky-boy,” Phillip said. “I guess you can’t change things, and life doesn’t always go the way you want it to, but no matter what—no matter how bad—you and I still got it better than most. And we’re very lucky. We have each other, Jacky-boy. And that’s all I really want. But to answer your question, yes. I know your mother misses us, as much as we miss her.”

  “She was cool,” Jack said.

  Phillip laughed. “Yes she was. She was very cool.”

  They stood for a while and watched the snow fall.

  “Jack?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Would you ever want me to remarry?”

  “Did you meet a…a….lady, Pop?” Jack smiled playfully at his father.

  “No, son. I just think sometimes you should have a woman’s influence on you. I think it’s good for a boy to have his mother. I was just wondering. No one could replace your mother, you know, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t still be friends with them.”

  “I have, Alice, Dad,” Jack said. “And she’s more woman than I can handle. I mean, she creates pink lasers and stuff for the bad guys that chase us through outer space. Bad guy ships shouldn’t have pink lasers.”

  “I guess not. And Alice does seem to watch over you a bit. You still doing well in school?”

  Jack nodded. “Pretty darn good, Dad. I don’t know what I’d do if it weren’t for Alice.”

  “She’s a very special young lady. You’re lucky to have her for a friend.”

  “I agree whole-heartedly, Pop,” Jack said.

  Again, they were silent for a moment.

  “The snow is pretty, isn’t it Jack?”

  “I love winter, sir. This was the best one ever.”

  “I agree.”

  “Dad?”

  “Yes, Jacky?”

  “If you wanted to get married again, I would be okay with that. I mean, you shouldn’t be without someone, either. You do a lot as it is. I know you’d always love Mom anyway, no matter what. And I know you’d meet a nice lady, because that’s just the kind of guy you are.”

  Phillip laughed and sniffled, wiped his nose, and claimed he was going to sneeze. “Well, if that moment ever comes, Jacky-boy, I’ll keep it in mind, okay?”

  “Okay, Pop.”

  “For now, I like things the way they are. We have a lot of new friends, and we live in a very special place.”

  “I think so, too, Dad.”

  “So let’s just enjoy things for a while, and we’ll see how it goes.”

  “Sounds, good to me, Dad,” Jack said.

  Storyville was a town buried in white, and it was as Alice said: the last snowfall for a while, and it paved the way for spring…

  PART IV

  SPRING IS FULL OF SURPRISES

  CHAPTER XIII

  FRIENDSHIP AND THE ROUND TABLE

  The weather warmed near February’s end, and once March arrived, the temperature increased to the mid-forties and fifties. The falling snow turned to rain. Winter clothes had been replaced with lighter garments. The holidays had come and gone, but the forecast proved bright and hopeful. A noticeable shift hung in the air with the passing of winter. Gazes stared out classroom windows at the bright blue sky, dreaming of summer. Attention spans dropped, and rear ends shi
fted with anticipation in their seats.

  In town, Storyville bustled with anxious, smiling faces, and warm hellos. They tipped their hats to one another. Spring was certainly in the air, and everybody was excited for change and warmer weather.

  Jack was grasping formulas and explanations to equations in ways he hadn’t before. Sometimes, it was routine to pay attention, to listen, and take notes in class, as though he were imagining a more volatile way of explaining the answers to himself. Once, he looked over and said, “You know, Alice? It’s kinda cool being on top of grades and homework and stuff. I feel like a scholar. Like I should wet my hair, have a mustache or something, some spectacles, like what your father has. What do you think of that?”

  Alice looked at Jack, and her heart went out to him. Retreating and isolating himself hadn’t been that long ago, but now, with Alice’s help, he enjoyed school more than ever, and this was not like Jack at all. When the teacher handed him his homework, he looked at the grade at the top, smiled, showed Alice, and did a drum roll on his desk. Once, he’d even scored higher than Alice in a writing assignment.

  “Mrs. Dermott,” Jack said.

  “Yes, Jack?”

  “There must be some mistake.”

  “Why is that, Jack?”

  “Because Alice only got an eighty-eight. And I got a ninety-one. You must have got the scores mixed up because we sit together.”

  “I’m afraid not, Jack. Those are the correct scores.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Quite sure, Jack.”

  Jack waited until Mrs. Dermott handed out the rest of the papers before leaning over and saying. “Don’t worry, Alice. I won’t let her get away with it. We’ll see who gets the better grades.”