Sweet Passage!
by Sharon Holtz
Art by Sharon Holtz
Chapter 2

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       Returning home from his wonderful evening with Catherine,  his thoughts traced back to their earlier conversation - their sweet exchange of I love you, still resonated within him.  Their promises of future intimacies made his heart pound so wildly that the cadence seemed to be immeasurable! The things that they said to each other excited him and gave him hope for a real future with Catherine. Then his thoughts switched painfully to the missed opportunity of kissing her. They were so close, and their lips were so near to each others that he could feel her sweet breath upon his skin. He knew that she wanted him to kiss her, and yet . . .  he could not.  He couldn’t take that step…  not yet!
     As Vincent walked through the tunnels, heading for his chamber, he passed by his Father’s library and saw  candles were still burning through the entrance.   He paused in the archway and softly called, “Father?”
    Jacob looked up from the map he was studying.  “Ah Vincent, come here my boy.  I'm so glad  you're here.  I've been trying to make heads-or-tails out of this old map!   Now,  show me exactly where the renovating will be taking place,  because if it's here," he said, pointing to a place on the map,  "like I fear, there's an old electric ventricle just behind it.”
    Vincent walked over to his Father’s side, and looked down to where he is pointing.   He sighed softly.  “Father,  here,  let me . . .   There you go, Father.”  Vincent, with much subtlety,  turned the map around.
    “Ah!  Oh Vincent, that does make a difference!" Father exclaimed, his face turning red.   "Good then, very good.  We shall proceed as planned.”     He continued to looking at the map because he was too embarrassed to look at his son.  He needn’t have been concerned!  Vincent had something else on his mind.
     Vincent sat down, with a heavy sigh, resting his chin in his hand.   Realizing something was on his mind, Father asked, “Was there anything you wished to discuss Vincent?”
     He raised only his eyes to look at his father, and contemplated discussing this delicate issue with him.  He really needed some advice though, and while Father might not be the best person to ask in this instance, he was the only one available just now.  “Father, Mary gave Catherine and I an invitation to the celebration, on Wednesday night.”
     Smiling, Father nodded and said, “Ah yes, The Sweetheart’s Dance.  Mary gave me an invitation as well!”
     Vincent noticed a slight blush spread across Father’s face.  He tilted his head in a questioning fashion.  “Father, Mary has asked you to accompany her to the celebration?”
     Jacob cleared his throat, and with a small chuckle escaping with his answer said, “Why yes, I suppose that she has Vincent.” And he once again turned his attention to the map.
       Vincent waited for him to continue, and when he didn't, he asked,  “And? . . . What was your reply, Father?”
         A slight smile played across the old man's face.  Trying to downplay the fact that he and Mary would be there as a couple,  he answered, “I’ll be attending with Mary.”
        Vincent stifling his own smile.  “Well Father, that's wonderful.”
         Father licked his thin dry lips, looking over the top of his glasses, he pretended to study the map once again.  Remembering  Vincent’s dilemma he asked, “And so Vincent,  what of The Sweetheart’s Dance?   Will you be taking …ahem…Catherine?”
        Vincent had often noticed his Father’s nervous habit of clearing his throat whenever Catherine was being discussed. What was this barrier between them? They were both warm, wonderful, caring people. It was true, Father could be a bit stuffy at times, but still, he was a kind man.  Suddenly longing to get it out into the open, Vincent asked,  “Father, may I ask you why you don’t seem to be comfortable around Catherine?”
       Father hesitate, then placed his arm around Vincent's shoulder. “You know Vincent, I know …ahem…Catherine is a wonderful person.”
      “Yes Father, I know that, but still you seem to have an uneasiness around her?”
       Father answered honestly.  “I…I don’t know why that is, Vincent.   I do try, but for some reason I…   Is it that noticeable?”
       “To me,  yes,  it is,  Father.  It's so uncharacteristic of you.   You're always so gracious to everyone around you,  but you hold back when you are with Catherine.”
        Jacob searched his heart for an answer.  “Catherine does deserve better, Vincent.   I promise you that I will try.”
       “Father that would mean so much to me, thank you.” Vincent hesitated before continuing.  “Father,  I wish to give Catherine something special for Valentine’s Day.  I know her so well, yet  . . . I'm at a loss.”
       Father thought back on past Valentine’s Day gifts, remembering one year when Vincent was seven, or perhaps eight, and he had made him a card.  A smile spread across Father's’s face as he recalled that wild-haired little boy who'd approached him and handed him the card that he had made  himself.  Vincent had been so proud to present this hand-made greeting to his father.  It was his original artwork and his own original verse as well!
       Noticing Father’s faraway look, and wondering why the smile, Vincent softly asked, “Father, is something amusing?”
       Jacob turned and walked into his private sleeping chamber, returning momentarily.  “Ah Vincent your quandary has brought back memorie.  Let me show you a card that you made me when you were a small boy.” Placing a carved wooden box on the table, he sacredly lifted the lid. The contents consisted of special items from Vincent‘s childhood.  Jacob shuffled  through them a bit before he found the hidden gem!  “Ah,  here it is my boy.” he exclaimed,  opening up a card that had remained closed for nearly twenty-seven years!   A few tears form in his eyes as he inspected the craftsmanship.  In his hands he held a folded piece of black construction paper, with hearts of red, purple and pink pasted on the front.  The verse was written in a white crayon, and Father read it aloud.
 

To my Father I love you with my heart I think you are nice And also very smart!

     “Vincent, I knew way back then that you had a flair for the written word, my boy!  Ah, . . ."  he sighed,  " where have the days gone?”
      Vincent placed his a hand on top of his father's.  “To memories, Father, where they can remain, cherished, and untarnished.”
      Father looked back at his loving son, and nodded in agreement.
      Curious now,   Vincent reached into the box himself to see what was all in there. “Father,  I have never seen this before.” He pulled out a baby-book that Father had kept, chronicling Vincent’s development as a small boy.  Opening the book,  Vincent began to  read about himself as a budding child, and turning a page he found a lock of hair from his first haircut.
       Jacob looked at the long golden curl. “Oh, how you hated haircuts Vincent! I remember that day so clearly.  Lou was in charge of haircuts here in the tunnels even back then.  He put a covering about your shoulders, and sat you in this big old barber chair!  It's the same one that we use to this day that is down in the Grooming Chamber.  Not that you would be aware of it, Vincent.  I can’t remember the last time you occupied it!  At any rate, you sat in that chair with such a pout on your little face, and when that very lock of hair that you are holding now was cut from your head, you screamed, and cried! It was the only one removed that day!  I just never wanted to put you through it after that.”
       Vincent held the lock up, looking at it and thinking.  He thought about how Catherine often had told him how much she loved his hair.   He thought,   Perhaps she might find this a very special gift indeed. “Father,  may I?  I would like to give this to Catherine.”
       “Of course,  my boy! Yes, yes, Catherine would like that! Oh Vincent, women seem to love things such as a lock of hair, a single rose, hand-written poetry, you know . . .  something from the heart.”
        “Yes, those were Catherine’s words tonight, Father . . .  nothing fancy,  just something from the heart.” Standing up, happy in the knowledge that he now had the perfect gift, he took his Father’s face in his hands, and gave him a kiss on his forehead. “Father,  you have been a great help.  Thank you!”
         “Any time, Vincent.”
           Vincent dashed out of his Father’s chamber, leaving him alone with his sweet memories of the days gone by.