Never Forgotten



  Never Forgotten

  by Robert Martin

  Copywrite 2012 by Robert Martin

  

  Winter always seemed to come early to Everwood, a bustling town of five thousand in northern Vermont. The snow would invariably fall there first and sometimes, only there. Anytime after the beginning of November, it could be raining over the whole state, but in Everwood, it would be snowing. It was weird, uncanny, and even a little bit creepy. However, the town had always been somewhat different. It was a good different though, because Everwood wasn't caught up in the usual small town syndrome of gossip and friction. Everyone got along great; always lending a hand to whoever needed it. No one felt alone or isolated; no one lacked of any need. People smiled a lot. Everwood was cozy, friendly, perfect. Creepy!

  Jack Granger first came to Everwood twenty-five years ago by way of the Vermont Department of Social Services. He spent two short years at the Everwood Children's Home, just outside of town, that forever changed his life. He went from a bitter, uncaring, little thief to a loving, happy boy in that short time and he wanted to know why. There was no memory of his stay at the home. All he had was a picture of him and a pretty little girl, standing close and holding his hand, by a sign saying "Everwood Home for Children" that was supposedly taken the day he left with his new adoptive parents. The girl was not his sister so his assumption was she also resided at the home. He later learned that his adoption was not an exception but rather, the rule. Every girl and boy who came to Everwood left with new families. The adoption rate was one hundred percent! The other unusual thing was that, being a private home, their stipulated entry age was seven years, exclusively, and all children found new families by age nine. People came from all over the world to adopt a child from Everwood Children's Home. The attraction seemed to be that each child was a perfect match with the prospective family and the follow up data indicated all parties involved were totally satisfied. Jack loved his parents and sister with no reservations even though he remembered the days before Everwood and how he felt he would never know what love was. His two years at the home changed all that and he didn't even know why. The others he had talked with, who were alumni of the home, had no idea either. However, all of them were happy, well adjusted members of society. No misfits, no mal-contents, no criminals. To Jack, that was unusual, and the idea that he was the only one who thought it was unusual among the former residents, was creepy! But for some strange, inexplicable reason, he was being drawn back to Everwood. He knew not why nor how, but it was a feeling he could not shake, a force he could not resist. Why did this happen and, apparently, continue to happen? Who was the girl in the picture? He had to know.

  Fourteen inches of snow had fallen two days before Jack arrived in Everwood so construction of the snow village was, quite possibly, close to being finished. Every year, without fail since the day it opened over a hundred years ago, the children of Everwood Children's Home built a beautiful, one-forth scale, turn of the century village from the first snowfall of over one foot. It was always the same, built under the watchful eye of the director of the home. The detail was intricate, with miniature wood doors and windows, stone chimneys, working fireplaces, and wooden people dressed in winter clothing. There were streets lined with candle lamp posts, small trees covered with ornaments, and even an ice skating rink right in the center of the village with a large, decorated Christmas tree. A post office, bakery, and glass factory were some of the structures built with meticulous detail, as if they were meant for actual use. Visitors were able to walk around the village but not through it and a short fence surrounded the whole village with a gate at the entrance that had the name "Dreamwood" displayed in an arch over the opening.

  Perhaps, most amazingly, was that the village was built in two days; no more, no less, with exactly fifty boys and fifty girls, the precise capacity of the home. It was then open to the public for viewing from 1 PM to 9 PM every day until December 23rd. The small admission fee collected for those seven weeks or so plus the adoption fees were apparently enough to keep the home running from year to year. It was said by many that if one comes to see the village one day, and then returns the next, the small figures change their position and, sometimes, their garments. The children obviously came out each morning and maintained the village before visitors arrived, though the director claimed that was not the case. But Jack remembered none of this though he, most likely, participated in building the village for two years. Now, after twenty-five years, he was back to find out why. And why did it take that long to even wonder? So many questions, so few answers. That, in itself, bothered him more than anything.

  It was five in the afternoon when he arrived at the home. The parking lot looked full but he managed to find a spot at the very edge. A line of people could be seen wrapping around the right side of the building that apparently went back to the village. Families, couples, teens, the elderly; all lined up to spend some time looking into a fantasy world, perhaps dreaming of being there. The attraction was as old as the home, taking one back to a time of simplicity and youth.

  The door was open and Jack stepped inside. A security guard sat at a desk, looking at several monitors.

  "May I help you, sir?" he asked politely.

  "Yes, I was hoping to speak with the director." Jack replied.

  "I'm sorry, sir, business hours were over at five. Would you like to leave a message?"

  "Sure. My name is Jack Granger. I'm a former resident and I would like to talk with the director sometime if that would be alright. My cell number is --"

  "Excuse me, sir," the guard cut in, "Did you say Granger?"

  "Yeah, Jack Granger." he repeated.

  "Mister Granger, would you excuse me for a moment?" the guard asked as he picked up the phone.

  "Sure." Jack nodded, standing back a few steps. "What now?" he thought.

  "Mr. Montgomery, there is a Jack Granger here that would like to speak to you." the guard said.

  After a slight pause, he hung up the phone and said to Jack, "The director will be right with you, Mr. Granger."

  "Okay." Jack replied, somewhat bewildered.

  His wait was less than a minute as an elderly gentleman with gray hair and eyeglasses emerged from a side door.

  "Jack, it is so good to see you again." he said, extending his hand towards Jack.

  "Hello." Jack replied, confused. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

  "Perhaps you do not remember." he replied. "I'm Arthur Montgomery. I've been the director here for the past forty years. You were one of my students twenty-five years ago."

  Jack was stunned. Why could he not remember this man? And how could this man remember him after twenty-five years?

  "I'm sorry, Mr. Montgomery, I don't remember much about my time here. It's all a little foggy." he lied. The fact was, Jack didn't remember a thing.

  "Why don't you come into my office and we will talk." he offered, gesturing towards the door.

  "Okay." Jack replied, moving slowly towards the door, still confused.

  They moved down a carpeted hallway, past several empty offices on both sides. The staff had gone home for the day and the place was eerily quiet. Jack could hear music playing softly over an intercom system. At the end of the hall, Mr. Montgomery entered an office that smelled of fresh pine and coffee. Jack followed and, for some reason, closed the door behind him.

  "Would you like some coffee, Jack?" Arthur asked and then grinned, "Perhaps Irish style?"

  "That would be good." Jack replied, sitting in a padded armchair in front of a desk.

  "I'm sure you have many questions, Jack, but perhaps I can answer most of them by saying it is normal for you not to remember your time he
re. None of the children, past, present, or future remember their time here. It is one of the special qualities of this place. Children come with various problems and fears and leave as part of a family who loves and cares about them. How that happens is not what is important. The fact that it does, is."

  He handed Jack the coffee on a saucer that rattled as his hand shook, spilling it slightly.

  "Forgive me." he apologized, "One of the unfortunate results of age."

  "That's quite alright." Jack said, taking a sip of the spiked drink. "Mm, that's good."

  "You have returned to Everwood, Jack, because you have been called back to become director." Arthur began. "It is time I turn the reins over to the next generation."

  Jack swallowed the coffee quickly, burning his throat and bringing tears to his eyes.

  "Wait a minute! What are you talking about?" he inquired.

  "The answer to why you have been drawn back here after all these years. That was one of your questions, was it not? You are here to take over as director of the home."

  "Excuse me sir, but no, I am not!" Jack protested, setting his coffee on the edge of the desk. "I am here because I --," he hesitated, thinking, "Because I --"

  "Because you had an inexplicable desire to come here." Arthur took over. "You were drawn by a force you could not resist."

  Jack sat back in amazement. "How does this old guy know so much?" he thought to himself.

  "Mr Montgomery, who the hell are you?" he asked bluntly.

  "My dear Jack, the same thing happened to me forty years ago. I, too, am a former resident of this place who "lost" two years of my life. I was running a small furniture business, doing quite well as a matter of fact, when, one morning, I woke up with this strange feeling that I really did not know who I was. As I was leaving for work, I checked my wallet to see if I needed to stop at the bank, and a picture I had carried around for twenty-five years caught my attention. You see, the day I left Everwood, someone took a photo of me standing beside the sign in front of the home. At that moment, I knew I had to come back. The rest, as they say, is history."

  Jack sat in his chair, stunned. His heart was pounding, his face pale.

  "Does that sound about right, Jack?" Arthur smiled.

  Jack reached into his inside breast pocket where he had put his picture earlier and produced it slowly for Arthur to see. Arthur nodded, approvingly and came to Jack's side, placing a hand on his shoulder.

  "I took that picture, Jack, just as my director took my picture. I chose you twenty-five years ago to take my place when the time came. And here you are."

  Jack reached for his coffee and took a drink with hand shaking, swallowing hard. He sheepishly looked at Arthur, intimidated by the moment.

  "I don't know how to run a children's home. I run an event center in Albany. I know nothing about kids, I'm not even married. I'm sorry, Mr Montgomery," Jack began to stand, "But you have made a serious mistake. I'm not your man. Thank you for the coffee."

  He turned toward the door, grabbing his coat and gloves. "Good day, sir."

  As he proceeded out the door, Arthur asked, "Would you like to know who the young lady in your picture is?"

  Jacked stopped, took a deep breath, and turned around, determined not to be swayed to reconsider.

  "I assume she was just another resident of the home." he said dryly.

  "Oh, my dear boy, she is much more than that. She is the reason you are here."

  The one thing Montgomery could have said to keep him there, he said. The identity of that girl was perhaps the one piece of the puzzle Jack wanted to solve more than anything else and Arthur had him hooked. He stepped back into the room, tossing his coat and gloves into the chair.

  "Okay, I'm listening." he sighed.

  Arthur clasped his hands in front of him and pointed both towards Jack.

  "There is so much to show and tell you, Jack, and it is getting late. Why don't you get some dinner and rest and we will begin in the morning?"

  Now Jack was upset. Montgomery had dangled the carrot and then took it away.

  "Wait a minute, sir. I don't know what kind of game you are playing here but it's beginning to piss me off. Excuse my language. This is not cute anymore. You're talking a lot but saying nothing, beating around the bush, and now, telling me to wait? I don't think so, Mr. Montgomery! I'm out of here!"

  Jack grabbed his coat and walked out, slamming the door behind him. He moved quickly down the hall, past the guard, toward the front exit.

  "See you tomorrow." the guard stated as fact.

  "In your dreams." Jack quipped as he went outside.

  He looked at his watch and sighed. Montgomery was right about it being late. It seemed like only a few minutes, but he had been in there for three hours! He felt fatigued so he decided to get something to eat and then find a room for the night. Tomorrow, he would head back. Or so he thought.

  -----------------------------------------------------

  Jack was out the door almost as soon as the five o'clock whistle sounded at the glass factory. It had been a long day, but now it was quitting time and he was on his way to see his girl, Holly. He had planned this evening for quite some time and was eager for it to begin. A light snow began to fall as he headed towards the bakery that Holly's father owned. The air was crisp as the sun began to set and he danced a little shuffle as he navigated the busy sidewalk. In the distance, he saw Holly standing outside the shop with a large basket and quickened his pace.

  "How is my best girlfriend this fine afternoon?" he asked as he walked up to her.

  "I had better be your only girlfriend!" she scolded with a smile.

  Jack took her free hand and gave her a warm, passionate kiss.

  "Hello there." he said quietly.

  She smiled as she giggled slightly and rubbed her nose to his.

  "Did you get the wine?" she asked.

  "Thought we would stop on the way." he responded.

  She took his arm and they started towards the frozen pond where the community Christmas tree was to be lit up after dark. Jack had saved a spot on the far side of the pond to build a fire and have dinner under the stars. The general store was a block away and they took a slight detour in for a bottle of red wine. It would go perfect with the fresh bread and hot beef and juice Holly had in the basket. Earlier, during his lunch break, Jack had brought firewood and their ice skates to the spot, so everything was set. With wine in hand, they headed towards the pond.

  "What a beautiful night!" Holly said with a sigh of satisfaction. "It's perfect for the tree lighting."

  "Yeah, it's perfect." Jack smiled.

  The street lighters were out trimming the candles in the light poles and small groups of people began to gather around the pubs for drinks and supper. It would be a couple of hours before the ceremony so there was plenty of time for some merry-making. The laughter was beginning already.

  Jack found his spot and began to set up as Holly sat on a wooden bench. He had a tote bag hidden with some blankets, a lantern, and two covered pots inside. He arranged some wood and started the fire. The flames grew slowly higher, casting an orange glow surrounded by the falling snow. It was dead calm and serene.

  "This is really wonderful, Jack." Holly said. "It is so beautiful tonight."

  "Beautiful night for a beautiful lady." Jack added.

  "Okay, Jack Granger, what is going on?" she asked.

  "How long have we known each other?" he started, filling one of the pots with the beef and broth.

  "Twenty-five years." she answered, playing along.

  "And how long have we been courting?" he continued, putting the bread in another pot and setting both next to the fire.

  "Almost five years." she answered, giggling with excitement.

  "Do you think, perhaps, that we should take our long relationship to the next level?"

  "Why Jack, whatever are you talking about?" Holly teased, barely restraining her
self.

  He reached into his coat pocket and produced a small box. Holly gasped loudly, covering her mouth.

  "Oh, Jack!" she squeaked, beginning to tear up.

  "I talked to Mr. Carson and he is willing to sell me the old Johnson place for a good price. I've been saving like crazy and I think --"

  "Shut up and ask me, Jack." she cut in.

  He looked her in the eyes for a moment and then opened the box, revealing a small diamond ring.

  "It's not much Holly, but would you consider being my wife?"

  "Well, I don't know. This is a very big step and there is a lot to consider." she responded, thoughtfully. "There are some things we need to dis--."

  "Shut up and say yes." he interrupted.

  She put both arms around his neck and answered, "Okay, Mr. Granger. Yes, I'll be your wife." and kissed him long and deeply.

  They lost themselves in each other's embrace and did not notice the shadowy figure approach from behind them.

  "Since you're not going to put that ring on her finger, I'll be taking it off your hands." the figure stated.

  Startled, Jack and Holly pulled back to see a large knife thrust between their heads.

  "Come on buddy. Give it up." he said, flicking the knife towards Holly's ear.

  She whimpered slightly as Jack slowly raised his hand with the box. As the man reached for it, they heard a loud "thump" and the thief staggered back a couple of steps. He shook his head, blinking hard. Another "thump" knocked his hat off and he fell to his knees and then to the ground, unconscious.

  "Is he out?" came a voice from behind Jack.

  He turned around to see a boy holding an ice ball in his hand. Jack looked back at the man lying on the ground, motionless.

  "Yeah, I think so." he replied and then turned to Holly. "You okay?"

  She nodded in the affirmative, unable to speak at the moment.

  "I'll go get a cop." the boy shouted, running off.

  "Hey, wait!" Jack yelled, "What is your name?"

  "Roger." the boy replied, fading off as he ran toward the village.

  They both stood up; Holly moving to the other side of the fire and Jack grabbing the knife to stand guard. Two police officers quickly arrived and drug the man off, still unconscious. The boy never returned.

  "That kid had quite an arm on him." Jack said.

  "Yep." Holly began to laugh. "Our life together starts with a mean fastball."

  They fell into each other's arms, laughing hysterically, nuzzling, and kissing.

  The rest of the evening went off with no further surprises. Several people, including Jack