Chapter 5

Virgil and Father got into a routine. They talked and ate in the library, sometimes joined by Harry, who had decided he did not want to miss his literary diversion, and occasionally Vincent. Then on alternate days, the two men soaked together in the hot pool, both seeming to get as much enjoyment from talking as from the heated water. Kanin joined them there once to learn about Virgil’s rock-carving methods. It was a discussion Vincent was glad he missed, when he heard about it.

More often, Vincent sat with Irena in the Library and waited for the two patriarchs to signal they were ready to re-join society. One day he took Irena to visit William, after she expressed delight at the soups and stews the cook produced for their meals. They discovered they had much in common when Irena told the story of her "cornucopia" pot. William pointed to an enormous stew pot on a back burner as his equivalent. The secret, they both agreed, as Vincent listened in amazement, was to have soups that were complimentary, so there were no conflicting flavours on subsequent days as the pot was "recharged." William also showed Irena his pantry, where the cold temperature allowed him to keep large crocks of stock from the roasts he made. Nothing was wasted. His scraps went into a composter. Irena hugged William afterwards and Vincent saw genuine affection on the big man’s face. Irena, he had learned, could make anyone feel good. She never judged anyone.

Sometimes Catherine joined them in the library and gradually Irena learned their story and told her own. Vincent was again saddened that his family had been so isolated, but Irena had nothing but happy memories of her years with Virgil and the children. They had been blessed, she insisted.

Vian and Ilona joined the work roster for the tunnel community. Peter had been sorry to lose his partner, but was assured it would not be permanent. For these critical weeks, she had not wanted to be far from her father or her family. Peter visited often, checking on Virgil and discussing ways to relieve his pain with Father. It soon became obvious that Irena was the best medicine for him.

Every evening when Vincent wheeled his father back to the family chambers, Irena would take him in hand and read to him, until she felt his fatigue. Then she led him to their bedchamber and joined him in their bed. She sensed his happiness and snuggled into his arms, her heart full of love for him. She was happy too, but it was of a different nature. All her family were together again at last – but she knew it was only for a short while. Often they made quiet and careful love and Irena tried to pour her strength into Virgil, knew that he felt it and appreciated it.

Then one night they lay together, both tired after a day of visitors, then a dinner with Vincent and Catherine and an evening of music in Father’s library. The concert had amazed them both. Music had never had a role in their lives because neither Virgil nor Irena had known even the rudiments or had a musical instrument. Exposed to such extraordinary talent among the tunnel children, they were a little sad to realize what they had missed.

"Oh Love," whispered Virgil, sensing Irena’s regret. "We have had such a wonderful life together. There is nothing more I could have wished for, even had I known."

Irena looked at him and rubbed her hand over his chest, stroking the soft fur there.

"I know, Virgil. I have been blessed beyond any dreams. With you beside me, what more could I want?"

Irena felt his love pouring down their bond and suddenly came to a decision. With that, the tension around her heart melted away and she felt light headed and happy. Then she felt Virgil’s realization and understood, belatedly, that he had been afraid for her, had held on because he could not leave her alone. She felt him relax and he pulled her to him. They made passionate and furious love, something neither had thought possible again. Afterwards, Virgil’s purr seemed to make the bed vibrate and Irena felt his uninhibited peace and happiness.

Not much later, they lay side by side, holding hands. Virgil let go the strings of his life, all but one, and drifted towards the veil that awaited. That one string was Irena and she held his hand tightly and wrapped her soul around his so they could pass on together, through the veil and into a place where there was no pain and their love was all that mattered, all that remained.

Ilona and Vian felt their parents part from them, before the sun rose in the world Above. The joy of their release, their happiness in leaving together made the two children get out of bed and hug each other in consolation. A little later when they saw Irena and Virgil in their bed, holding hands, absolute peace on their faces, there were tears, but the comfort of their bond, which was now stronger, a last gift from their parents.

Shortly afterwards, Vincent arrived breathless. He looked down at Irena and Virgil and immediately understood. They would not be parted, even in death. It was what he hoped for himself and Catherine in his deepest heart. Seeing their contentment, he realized it was not a selfish wish, but quite the opposite. Leaving one or the other alone would have been akin to torture, impossible. He looked at his brother and sister with tears in his eyes and they joined in a hug. They stood there a long time, unable to break it or speak, their tears mingling silently.

Then Catherine arrived carrying little Jacob. She added herself to the hug and somehow, her love for them all made it possible for them to separate. Vincent gathered her to him, then looked at Ilona and Vian. His voice was quiet.

"They were special people and we will never forget them. We have a special ceremony here, for those who leave us. We write letters and burn them by the Mirror Pool, so that their messages may float into the heavens. If you wish, we will bury Virgil and Irena in our catacombs."

Ilona spoke. "That would be wonderful, Vincent. I don’t think there is anywhere they would rather rest than here. These last weeks have been so wonderful for them. We owe you so much for the joy they felt and the love you gave them."

Vincent hung his head. "You owe me nothing. They were an inspiration to me and a pleasure to us all. We will miss them. Now I must go to the pipe chamber and inform Pascal. This is one message I want to deliver in person."

Vincent left and Catherine looked at Ilona and Vian. They looked a little stunned and she realized that they probably felt a little empty since the empathic bond with their parents was gone. She herself felt Vincent always. If that should leave her, she knew she would rather be dead. She understood Irena’s reasoning perfectly. It was also her own. She suspected Vincent felt the same way.

"Come," she said softly. "Vincent will arrange with Mary to prepare them for burial. There is time for breakfast. We all need that now, I think. We need people around us, friends and family. Come."

Later that day, the community stood in the catacombs and watched as Irena and Virgil, wrapped in a single shroud, were slid on a plank into a large wall nook prepared for them. They wore, as they had always worn, their gifts to each other. That had made Vincent’s throat close in grief. The locket had held some of Virgil’s golden hair – so like his own.

"Together they lived in joy, together let them rest in peace," intoned Father in conclusion.

There were several minutes of silence and a few sniffles, before candles were lit to mark their grave and they all walked slowly up to the Mirror Pool. There a brazier received the letters and flung the messages up the stone chimney to the sky. The ashes were carefully laid on the pool, where they drifted into a hidden recess and disappeared.

…

Within a week of the funeral, Ilona and Vian moved into the chamber closer to the hub and Ilona returned to Peter’s medical clinic. Vian continued to join work parties, but it soon became obvious that he was restless. One day, he and Vincent sat in the den of the brownstone drinking a mug of William’s excellent ale. It was a day in early spring and the sunlight was streaming in the window. Vian thought he had never seen anything so wonderful, but was as aware as Vincent that he would never be able to wander in it. He had joined his brother in the brownstone’s garden, though, and looked forward to seeing it in the summer. He sighed.

Vincent looked at his brother. They were not quite identical, despite all Irena’s – and Catherine’s - fears. Their different lives had marked them in ways that could not be erased or concealed.

Vian had led a carefully constricted life but it had been rich with family. Vincent could envy him that. Vian was a scholar first, and although he did his share of the hard labour in the community, he did not enjoy it. In a sense, he was the most isolated of the family. He had inherited all of Virgil’s passion for books and learning and nothing else really mattered to him. To date, he had been celibate as well, despite considerable interest among some of the community’s women.

Vincent suddenly had an idea. The old family chamber was still unused. Perhaps Vian would like to organize retreats for the teens in the community, themselves always restless and eager to escape work parties. He knew Vian would like to learn music. That could be arranged also.

Vincent made the suggestion and saw Vian’s eyes light up. He smiled and Vincent could sense his joy and gratitude. Why hadn’t he thought of that before, Vincent asked himself. Well, perhaps the time wasn’t right until now.

Vian’s voiced his happiness.

"Vincent, that’s a wonderful idea. I can take the kids on excursions, teach them orienteering – many things. In exchange, some of the musicians can teach me and others. I’ll take them for two or three days at a time and bring them back. That will make the tunnels here a lot quieter. In between, I’ll ask Ilona to suggest ideas for the retreats and we’ll plan them. She has a practical head on her shoulders, which she inherited from our mother. My father and I were more interested in books than bread."

The reminder about books made Vincent think of Virgil’s journals. He hadn’t yet read them. That would be a project he must undertake soon.

"I just had a thought, Vian. Where are Virgil’s journals? I’d like to read them."

"I think they’re still in that little trunk, Vincent. He didn’t write in them much after we came here. Of course, you should read them – we all should. You take them first and then Ilona and I will read them. I understand you write journals as well."

Vincent smiled at the irony. "Yes, and I suspect some of mine will be as painful to my child as Virgil’s will be to us. I had dark periods in my life – even after I met Catherine. Now, the entries are almost banal." He laughed.

"Oh, I’m sure they are never that, Vincent," Vian remarked. "Would you allow me to read them?"

Vincent started. Some of his journals were intensely personal. However, Vian was his brother. Who else would understand them as well?

"Yes, of course you may read them, although you’ll find some entries disturbing."

Vian looked at this brother, conscious that he may have overstepped a boundary. Vincent was so used to keeping his thoughts to himself. He’d had no one to confide in, unlike himself.

"Vincent, I don’t have to read your journals if you are not comfortable with the idea. It’s just my curiosity showing. But I can promise that I will never let anyone else see them, most especially Ilona. She, I suspect, would not want to intrude anyway."

Vincent gave a sigh of relief. "Thank you Vian. I would appreciate your discretion. Even Catherine has not read my journals. One day, Jacob will read them I expect, but probably not until I’m dead."

"So be it," intoned Vian, raising his mug in salute. "But you know, I think it would be nice if we could read my father’s journals aloud to each other, here in the den. I suspect that they too will be somewhat emotional at times."

"Vian, that’s an inspired idea. Yes, let’s do that. It’ll give us good reason to keep some of William’s excellent beer on hand – strictly to lubricate our vocal chords, of course."

"Of course," Vian agreed with a laugh.

Over the following months, the brothers followed through on their plan and Vincent and Vian both learned more about their father. There were indeed emotional entries and some that drove the brothers to tears and hugs. They discussed what they read and Vincent began to feel a part of his family, at last. They all had so much in common.

Catherine and Ilona became friends and often took little Jacob with them on shopping and sightseeing trips. For Catherine the experience was a novel one. No one else from the tunnels was remotely interested in the world Above. They had left it by choice and had no desire to return to it. Ilona, though, had no such reticence. She helped Catherine see New York with new eyes and the stories she told of her impressions thrilled both Vian and Vincent.

Vincent’s family, Catherine realized, had enriched their lives in ways she could not have imagined when they had first been introduced. Her one remaining concern was that Ilona and Vian find partners and experience the joy she and Vincent shared. But, she reflected, look how long it had taken Vincent to accept her as a permanent presence in his life.

Virgil and Irena had been perfect parents. While no life was without limits, love had none – and it always found a way. There was still time for their other two children to find that truth.

As it happened, Vian found love in an unexpected place. He occasionally taught the children’s history class, aided by Brooke. She had mentioned, once, that the Tunnels had history too and taken him to see Elizabeth and her painted walls. Brooke had been upset when Michael left to attend university, and soon realized that her schoolgirl crush would not bring him back. Word reached her that he had a girlfriend Above. She refused to talk about him and concentrated on teaching. Vian, unaware of her sorrow, had treated her with real friendship and she began to see him as something more than a fellow teacher. She realized he knew almost nothing about anyone in the community - a bonus. Too many others looked at her with pity.

Elizabeth, meanwhile, showed no signs of flagging in her painting project. Damage done by the blasting for Burch Tower had been repaired as best it could with cement.

The historian in Vian was fascinated with the paintings. Elizabeth, for her part, treated Vian much as she did Vincent. She was flattered at the attention and told him the stories behind the paintings. Vian then began to make notes and then take photographs of the various paintings, with the intention of writing a book of Tunnel history, with related references to events in the World Above, some of which were also portrayed on the walls. He began to feel as if he had missed something critical and found the knowledge he gained addictive.

Brooke, now intrigued herself, helped him to light the wall areas with a large battery-powered flashlight, so that he could take good quality photographs. The two worked long hours in the painted tunnels, well aware that Elizabeth, for all her energy, would not live forever. Catherine supplied him with some portable darkroom equipment and he and Brooke developed the film and discussed the design and content of the book. By the time the rough draft was ready, the two were inseparable. Brooke moved into the big chamber he shared with Ilona and Ilona moved back into the family’s former quarters near the brownstone. Soon Vian and Brook expanded their photography into the deeper tunnels and areas disovered by both Irena and Virgil, as well as Vincent, Mouse and others. They often camped out in the Gilchrist family’s cavern to do this work. Their record become an important part of the community's archives. When they had their first child, a little boy who was a carbon copy of Vian, they rejoiced.

Ilona, meanwhile, had become a fine doctor and when Peter retired, just after Catherine gave birth to the twins, he offered her his practice. However, Ilona declined and decided that she preferred outreach medical services. She ran the tunnel community’s clinic, which had been moved to the brownstone adjoining that of Cartherine and Vincent. There she helped to train students and used a legacy from Peter and the Foundation to send them to medical school. She continued to live in her chamber Below, using the entrance in the brownstone.

Despite Catherine’s best efforts, Ilona did not find a soul mate. Like Jacob her son, Ilona never felt completely comfortable with topsiders, Peter being the sole exception. She and Jacob became good friends, though, despite their age difference. To Jacob, Ilona was the only one in the Tunnels who could understand his conundrum. Both agreed that being ‘different’ like Vian, Vincent or the twins, would have been easier. Their restrictions would have obvious and uncomplicated. As it was, neither wished to start a relationship that meant introducing an outsider to the tunnel community – and neither wanted to live Above. They, more than any other of the special children, the children and grandchildren of Virgil and Irena, felt caught between two worlds. They did not feel deprived, though. The love of the tunnel community and their family was always there – and they both had work they cared deeply about.

Nothing else was so important. That too was a legacy to those two special people.

END