Finding Tom

by Simeon Harrar

  She wrapped two blankets around me and patted me gently on the head before scampering away to the kitchen. Dr. Emory helped me take my shoes and socks off and began to rub my feet to help them thaw. I slowly began to regain feeling in my feet, and my ears began to sting. Eventually, my teeth stopped trying to chatter their way out of my head, and my blue lips returned to a healthy pink.

  Mrs. Emory appeared with a tray of hot water and mugs. “Alright, Tom, this should fix you right up, my boy.” She poured me a glass, and I gripped it tightly, feeling the warmth seep through my fingers all the way up my arms and into my core. I continued to clutch at the cup, trying to soak up all of its heat.

  I smiled up at them hovering over me like two protective guardians. “Thank you. I should be fine.” Sarah seemed to relax and poured the two of them a cup of tea as they joined me in front of the fire.

  Dr. Emory took a sip of his tea and wrinkled his nose. “Sarah, it seems that you have forgotten the sugar, my dear.”

  “Oh yes, I believe I did. Would you mind fetching it from the kitchen?”

  “Not at all.” He gently he squeezed her shoulder as he passed by her chair. “Forty-five years and some things never change,” he said playfully. Forty-five years and I could see they were still in love.

  I ended up spending the next three days in bed with a nasty cold. Not exactly the ideal start to my stay. Mrs. Emory was an angel. She made sure I was taken care of with plenty of hot tea and steaming chicken soup. Dr. Emory stopped in from time to time to make sure I was all right, but I wasn’t much for conversation, so he let me be.

  The next three weeks were like a wonderful dream. Every night we had scrumptious home-cooked meals, and Dr. Emory and I spent hours discussing writing and literature. He was a mixture of a wise sage and a court jester. One moment he had me laughing, and the next he was setting forth pearls of wisdom. Between bouts of laughter, I snatched up as many pearls as I could and tucked them away. After supper, the three of us would retire to the den and sit around the fire, quietly reading. It was a season of perfection. I could have stayed there with them forever, but the towers of Locklear called.

  Before I left, the Emorys presented me with a small gift. I unwrapped its colorful paper and found a new set of gloves inside a small box. I felt tears well up in my eyes at their kindness and thanked them profusely. Mrs. Emory gave me a long hug and invited me to come stay with them any time. Dr. Emory and I shook hands, and with that, I was off. My mind shifted briefly to Father and our parting. There were no hugs, no smiles, and no regrets in leaving. I wanted to miss him, but I didn’t.

  CHAPTER 19

  It Begins

  CHARLES WAS ANXIOUSLY AWAITING MY arrival in the room. He leapt at me like a lion, nearly wrestling me to the ground. “Tom, you are never going to believe this!”

  “Believe what, Charles? What has come over you?”

  He took a deep breath as if trying to gather his thoughts in order to make an eloquent speech, but he couldn’t control himself; it all came bursting forth: “Tom, we’ve been invited to join the Secret Sevens! Who would have thought? There was a note slipped under the door when I came in earlier this morning, addressed to the two of us. After reading it, I nearly wet myself, I was so excited. I hid the note somewhere …” He jumped up and began to rummage around, cursing to himself. “Aha, here it is. It’s addressed to both of us.”

  I read over the note. We were to report to the chapel bell tower at midnight tonight for further instructions. I put the note down and looked at Charles, who, by the look of him, was about ready to explode with excitement. “Well, Charles, unless this is a cruel joke, it looks like you and I are about to have some fun!”

  We both laughed, and Charles broke out into a jig. “Nobody in my family has ever been a member of the Secret Sevens,” exulted Charles, “and I know just how much it irks them. Getting selected was one thing they did not have control over. Oh, I cannot wait to see their faces on graduation day when they find out. I will have achieved something none of them ever did, and oh, how I will lord it over them. I feared I never had a chance because of my family’s reputation. Amazing! I’d given up hope, to be honest.”

  I smiled. Charles had no idea that I’d specifically recommended him for membership in the Secret Sevens.

  Then Charles turned toward me, wild-eyed as if a light bulb had just lit up, and gushed, “I can’t believe they recruited you! I mean, you are the first person in your family to ever attend Locklear, aren’t you? How did you swing that?”

  I decided now that Charles was joining, he might as well know the full story. “That is an excellent question. Grab your coat and let’s go for a walk. There are a few things I need to tell you. Remember that night I came home with the bruised nose …”

  After the whole story had been spun, Charles just stared at me. “I’ll be darned. I didn’t know you had it in you, Tom. And to think all this time I had no idea. Now all that being said, there is another pressing matter at hand.”

  “And what might that be?” I asked.

  “Why, dinner, of course,” he announced. “Come on. We’re late enough already; there’ll probably only be scraps left.”

  I laughed. “I tell you that whole story, and all you can think about it how hungry you are?”

  “Well, maybe you should have been less verbose.”

  “Since when did you start using fancy words like verbose?”

  “Now, now, don’t be jealous. There are plenty of big words to go around. Let’s start with famished, ravenous, or even peckish.”

  “I get it. Let’s go. Did you know that you are little more than an oversized stomach?”

  “I will take that as a compliment. Now, chop-chop before you start looking like an oversized steak to me!”

  Off we went, with midnight ticking ever closer. Outside of Charles and myself, I did not know who the other two recruits were, or what sort of an initiation process we would be forced to endure. Just as it is for everyone else, the future was a complete mystery to me. At 11:50 p.m., we found ourselves inside the chapel heading for the old bell tower. The door was uncharacteristically open, so we made our way up the steps, spiraling higher and higher until we lifted the trap door and climbed through to the belfry. This place was strictly off-limits after a drunken student had fallen to his death from the tower. Since then, the tower was always locked, except on Sunday mornings when the bells were rung. Caught up here, students could be fined or possibly expelled. I looked around and saw all sorts of graffiti on the walls. Names of students, years, and initials carved into hearts were proof that plenty of folks used to come up here on a regular basis.

  Then, as if by magic, Patrick and the others materialized out of the darkness in front of us in complete silence. I snuck a peak at Charles and could see that his eyes were gleaming with anticipation. All of the Secret Sevens wore hoods so we could not see their faces. I had been specifically warned not to mention any of their names. This was in case an initiate was unable to pass the necessary testing or decided that he no longer wanted to join the society. I had specifically left out the names when retelling my story to Charles, even though I knew he would do whatever it took to become a member, including risking life and limb. The two others climbed through the trap door and stood beside us. I recognized them but did not know their names.

  Patrick stepped forward and began to speak. “Welcome, gentlemen. You four have been carefully chosen from among your peers to undergo an initiation process to join the legendary Secret Sevens. Should you at any point choose not to continue, you may walk away of your own accord without any consequences. If all of you agree to begin your initiation, please say, ‘I do.’”

  Four voices echoed into the night in unison.

  “Excellent!” Patrick continued. “Your first task will be to provide dear Dr. Groves with a belated Christmas present from us. You are to use every last scrap of toilet paper in the bag we give you to cover his house and yard. Be sure to decorate in such a way that he k
nows it was the Secret Sevens. Should you be caught or fail to use all of the paper, there will be a punishment, and you will be required to redo the task until you succeed. With each failure, there are harsher punishments. One of our members will accompany you to ensure that you adequately complete your task. Here is your bag of supplies. Get going.”

  Charles grabbed the large burlap sack filled to the brim with rolls of toilet paper, and the four of us took off. Stopping at the bottom of the stairs to catch our breath, we introduced ourselves to our new counterparts while our shadowy companion remained silent and unnamed. With a few handshakes and a brief exchange, we found out their names were Jack and David. For now, that was enough. The dean lived alone in a large two-story brick house in town. Not surprisingly, he was known to be a light sleeper and on more than one occasion had called the police on unsuspecting students attempting to prank his home.

  We found his house tucked away on a picturesque side street where it sat surrounded by enormous bare oak trees. By now, most of the lights in the houses on the block were off, and after scanning the dean’s property, we planned an escape route and a possible rendezvous point should we become separated. When we split up into pairs, Charles and I stuck together, choosing to tackle the more open front yard while Jack and David circled around back. Rolls of toilet paper in hand, others stuffed into pockets, we began to wrap the trees like mummies. Moving on to the house itself, we tested the front steps to the porch. They squeaked ever so slightly, but we pressed on, turning the porch into a giant spider web. With just a few rolls to go, we made large 7s all across the front lawn before checking on our partners. They, too, had been busy and were nearly finished when we saw a small light turn on in a second-story window. Not wanting to leave so close to our goal, we continued to work, but quickly and quietly. There was no time to lose. I looked up briefly and saw an unmistakable figure standing at the window. With a final heave, I launched the last roll up and over the house in a high arc, and we took off. But we had been spotted. I prayed Dr. Groves had not been able to identify us.

  We sat down inside the chapel, and I could feel the fatigue kicking in as the adrenaline began to wear off. Our escort advised us that we would soon receive instructions on our next task. We were free to go.

  As we approached the dorm, I noticed someone standing in the shadows by the ivy. “Keep walking; someone is watching the door,” I whispered to Charles.

  “We might have to make a break for it,” he whispered back. I felt the adrenaline begin to pump again.

  We tried to walk by the dorm as if on our way to another building, but as we drew close, the guard stepped out of the shadows and called to us, “Hey, you two! Stop right where you are!”

  That was our cue. We took off at top speed. The guard chased us for a while before giving up. When we returned to scope out the dorm, he was back at his post. It looked like there would be no getting back in tonight. We decided to head for the library. I let us in the back door, and we snuck downstairs to sleep. We would have to be more careful next time.

  At 8:00 the next morning, I dragged myself into American Lit with Dr. Remus. I could not think of a more terrible combination than Remus at eight o’clock in the morning three times a week. Remus entered looking far too peppy for this time of day and began to talk in his quiet, sensual manner that made his listeners feel like everything he said had some sort of hidden sexual undertones. Charles put his head down on his desk and groaned. I knew this was the last place he wanted to be. He’d barely passed Remus first semester with a D. I looked at the list of books for the course. Most of them I’d already read, and each title was more dull and depressing than the last. Faulkner in the morning was just cruel.

  The first week of classes was awful. It looked like our professors were really going to pour it on this semester. Our little grace period was over. The hard work had begun. Just when I thought my week could get no worse, I walked into World Civilizations and saw Julia Stines sitting there. I wondered if that whole evening at the dance had just been a game to her. It’s true, she never promised that she would meet me at the library, but she sure made it sound that way. I could still feel the sting of being stood up. Maybe she just forgot? Maybe the weather kept her in? Maybe she was waiting for me to take the next move, but most likely she’d just completely forgotten about me. I was a nobody. Just thinking about it made me angry. I needed to let it go, but I couldn’t. I would bide my time and try to find another opportunity to talk to her. I needed to know if there was any hope.

  Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into a month, and life continued to roll on. The days blurred together as Charles and I were up all hours of the night doing stunts with Jack and David. The four of us grew close through all of our adventures and punishments, which included all sorts of crazy things. Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to discuss the details. I was grateful to have Charles as my companion through everything. Somehow, we managed to drag one another out of bed every morning and keep each other sane. Both of us looked ragged all the time, but we stopped caring. I stopped writing, which was strange because writing had become such a part of life for me. But then, when I went to sit down to write, I had no energy to get started. There were no words, only fatigue’s drag creeping in at the corners of my thoughts. I didn’t have time to meet with Dr. Emory regularly, and I sorely missed our times together, especially after our wonderful time together over the holidays. I was afraid that if I had to put up with a few more weeks of this insanity, I might not make it. I knew Charles felt the same way, but neither of us expressed our doubts. Failure was not an option.

  All the while, I kept a close watch on who sat next to Julia Stine in class. There was a revolving group of hopeful boys who tried to win her attention, but thus far they had been completely unsuccessful. I waited in the wings, silently knowing that the right opportunity would present itself.

  Jumbled in with the exhaustion was a growing dichotomy between my relationship with Dr. Emory and my father. I recognized on one level that Dr. Emory had become a surrogate father figure for me. He was the father I’d always wanted. Intelligent, emotional, and talkative, he filled all of my expectations for a father, and yet he was not my father. My father was a sad, stiff man stuck in a dreary world with a broken will, and as much as I hated him for all of those things, I could not reject him. He was my father. The world had overpowered and crushed him. Fate had stolen my mother away from him, or, depending on your perspective, you could say God had abandoned him in his hour of need. But he needed to get up off the ground. He needed to stop crawling. He needed to re-group and start over, but for some reason, he was unable. I needed a father with whom to share my pain of the past and my hope for the future. Dr. Emory could not share that with me, and though his friendship filled a deep need and craving within me, there was a part of me that remained steadfast only to my father, that harbored a loyalty I could not give to anyone else and that could not be fulfilled any other way. So I found myself waiting once again—waiting for Father and for Julia. I could not wait forever.

  CHAPTER 20

  At Long Last

  FINALLY, AFTER WHAT SEEMED TO us an unending month of trying to prove our worthiness to be Secret Sevens, our last night of initiation arrived. Dropped off in the middle of the woods with only a compass and a map to guide us, Charles and I wound our way through the forest, heading toward an unknown destination with Jack and David right behind. Here, I was grateful for the years I had spent exploring the outdoors. I had a keen sense of direction, and as we traveled hour after hour, stopping now and then to drink and rest, I was sure we were heading the right way. The sun began to set, and the sky looked as if a painter had brushed the horizon with huge strokes of brilliant purple and orange and yellow. It was a breathtaking sight. There were no cars or buildings to get in the way, just nature at its finest. I stood in awe, amazed by the grandeur of what I beheld. There was a time when such a sight would have led me to worship, but now I tasted only bitterness. The God capable of s
uch raw beauty, whose existence seemed so tangible in moments like these, was equally cruel in his absence.

  I looked back at the map and the compass. It was time to move. We still had a long way to go according to my calculations, and I wanted to get there before dark if possible. I assumed that we must be somewhere in the mountains behind Locklear. Thankfully, there were a few markers here with 7s carved into trees to let us know that we were heading in the right direction. I remembered when I used to run through the woods all day and still not be tired; those days of endless energy were long gone. My nasty habit of smoking certainly hadn’t helped. My tar-coated lungs were wheezing and whining at me. Charles, however, seemed unfazed by all the hiking. He continued to be upbeat and peppy—too peppy, really. I wanted to make him shut his yapper, but I knew there was no point in trying.

  Then, as the light began to fade, we spotted an old cabin with what looked like a kerosene lantern blazing in the window. We figured this must be our final destination. As we drew closer, we could make out familiar voices. I knocked on the front door, and Patrick immediately opened it and greeted us.

  “Welcome, gentlemen. Glad you could join us. You made surprisingly good time. We didn’t expect you for at least another hour or two. The year I was initiated, our group got so turned around that we didn’t make it to the cabin until three or four o’clock in the morning. If they hadn’t made a large campfire outside to guide us in, we never would have found it, but that’s neither here nor there. Come on inside.”

  We stepped through the door, and all the Secret Sevens were seated playing cards. There were no more masks to wear or tasks to accomplish. We were a part of the family. I looked at Charles and realized for the first time that we were brothers. On the back wall of the cabin, the names of all the members who had come before us were carved into the logs, along with the year they joined the Secret Sevens. I scoured the wall, looking for a specific name. At last, there it was, tucked in among all the others: Dr. Emory. It was a special moment as we carved our own names beside all of theirs, joining in the history of this mysterious family reaching back in time.