Crown Of Beauty


 
Father is feeling old and worthless and the tunnel folk decide to prove how much they love and value him


‘Gray-headedness is a crown of beauty when it is found in the way of righteousness’
Proverbs ch. 16. v31

 

Crown Of Beauty

Drawing in a deep breath and exhaling it slowly Father sighed. These days just getting through each day was more than enough for him and he picked up one of the books lying upon the table with an absentminded air.
Usually he could lose himself in poetry, but just lately he had found that each verse had only emphasised to him the length of time he had lived beneath the city streets, far away from the wonders of nature. It was the colours.
The colours that he missed the most.
Autumn leaves vibrant with colour, falling and rustling underfoot. How he had loved to hear them crunch beneath his feet as he had walked through forest pathways, filling his lungs with the heady scent of autumn musk.
Or to see the great expanse of ocean beneath a storm clad sky.
Darkening waves crashing white upon a rocky shore; a sea gull soaring overhead picked out brilliant white by one ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds. Or a rainbow arcing across the sky. Father well knew now that the treasure chest promised at its end was nothing in comparison to the treasure that God had created when he had created the rainbow itself.
In his mind’s eye, and through his books he could lose himself, pretend if only for a few hours each day that he was still above delighting in everything that mother nature had to offer. But he always had to come back to reality at some point.
As he closed the book and looked up he was brought back to sharp reality of hard cold grey rock, and a winter’s chill which pervaded the tunnels at any time of year.
He hadn’t minded once. Now it seemed in his old age, every bone, joint and sinew groaned in tune to the wind that cried relentlessly through the tunnels. Yet in stark contrast those same tunnels provided his safe haven, the only home he had known for decades, they were his sanctuary, a place of warmth from love and good companionship, the type of warmth that prevented any type of cold from seeping in.
Yet now as he stared out across his chamber, Father once again felt imprisoned by the cold grey walls. The ever-flickering candles were in no way a consolation for the brightness of the sunlight upon a meadow of golden corn ripe for harvesting. Neither did the dancing shadows represent in any way the long shadows of a winter evening as the sun disappeared over the horizon, flaming red and gold and orange.
Father exhaled another sigh, wiping away a lonely tear that fell silently from his eye.
Perhaps it was his age perhaps that was it. Or perhaps it was the fact that nobody seemed to need him these days.
Once he had been caught up in so many people’s lives that he had little time to stop and think about what he himself was missing.
People would come and go their lives repaired by the love shown from those below, healed enough to face the world again. In helping those ones, he had believed that he had helped himself, but now, now their stories came back to haunt him, as he remembered the things they had told him of their life above.
So many tragic stories, so many brave people healed enough to face life above once again.
Even Vincent, the son he had adopted from out of the cold. A sapling that had grown to the mightiest oak, even he it would seem no longer needed his father.
That was the biggest thing of all really, the fact that Vincent no longer needed him. Of all of his days below, having Vincent was the one person he could depend upon to fill the hours and help him feel wanted, needed, and Father had thrived on that.
His own son, Devin had departed long ago, had gone out into the wide world and for twenty years no one had known where he had gone. Now he visited a few times a year, breezing in and spinning yarns of his life above, before going again, as quickly as he had come. But Vincent could not leave, and Father had somehow clung to that knowledge, believing that even if he did forsake his life above, then it was worth it for Vincent needed him, as no one else could.
And then had come Catherine.
Dear sweet Catherine, offering Vincent a life he had never imagined. And Father was happy for them. He really was. Their fairy tale romance had blossomed and Catherine had given up her life above to share a happy life with Vincent below. And they had their children now, and Vincent would never be alone again.
Yet because of that neither did he need Father anymore.
Jamie and Mouse had married, and they too had children of their own. Jeffrey had gone above, likewise Kipper, Eric and all of the young children. Even Lena’s child Cathy had gone with her mother back to the world above.
Mary had gone too.
Father didn’t think he would ever get over that at the time, but he had. Now years later though she was still sadly missed. Father was happy for her that she had met and married a man from the world above, one of the helpers, so that below did not have to be a secret to keep, And from time to time she and her husband would visit.
Maybe it was something someone had said. Admittedly in anger, but said nonetheless. This hole in the ground was nothing but a living grave, and why spend life below the ground when you’re a long time dead and will end up there anyway.
Father had thought about those words. He had really given consideration to them, and they returned to haunt him now. That man’s conceptions had been right. Living below was nothing more than a rocky grave and Father had had enough of it.
He let the silent tears fall now, wrapping himself in his self-pity and the book slid from his fingers to the floor. He looked at the broken spine of the book for some moments, before pushing it roughly aside and out of sight with his foot. He felt just like that book.
Broken and crushed.

*** *** ***


“This is beautiful Vincent, I never tire of coming here.” Catherine drank in the beauty of the great waterfall watching spellbound as the white water fell over the rocks to drop into a swirling mass of foaming water below. “I’m surprised that the density of water never subsides. In all the years I have been coming here, it is never either more or less in volume. It’s simply stunning.”
Vincent looked at his wife for many moments before replying, stunned as always by her perception of the world below, his heart gladdened by her joy. “Yes, when Devin and I used to come here as boys, we were always afraid that one day we would come and see it resorted to a mere trickle, but it never was. Great dreams have been dreamt here Catherine, not least my own.”
They were silent for a moment each remembering some of those times.
“Your world has so much to offer Vincent. It is always so full of surprises. All the world in an oyster.”
“A nice expression Catherine, one I have never thought of before. And you are right. What we have here below, one could never find all in one place above. Least of all a great waterfall as this in the middle of New York.”
“Just imagine if you could.” Catherine chuckled, “If the city were shrouded by great mountains, just think what a difference life would be up there.”
“Have you never missed being above Catherine?” It had been one of Vincent’s fears that one day his wife would wish to return to all that she had forsaken to be with him.
“And go without you? Never, Vincent you are my life, you know that, and nowhere holds any appeal if you are not there to see it with me.”
Vincent gathered her close; “I’m so happy Catherine, to have you here with me. You have enriched my life, given me things I never dreamt I’d have, I owe everything to you my love.” He kissed the top of her head.
“At least my being here alleviated some of Father’s fears. If I had never come below, you would have been forced to continue to take risks in coming to me, and we both know how Father worried about that.”
Vincent was quiet for some moments following Catherine’s remark and she waited patiently for his response. Eventually prompting him when some minutes had lapsed.
“What is it Vincent?”
“Nothing I can put my finger on really. It’s just that I have noticed that Father seems different just lately. Almost depressed.”
“Yes. I too have noticed this. I didn’t want to say anything to worry you, but Vincent you’re right he does seem depressed. His eyes have lost their lustre and he seems to do nothing more but sit and dream all day.”
“I’m worried about him Catherine.”
“A child’s prerogative Vincent. Life starts out with parents worrying about their children and ends the other way around, nonetheless I do wonder if it is just a phase he is going through or if it goes deeper than that. Do you think we should speak to him about it?”
“Perhaps. Let’s just watch him for a few days shall we? Maybe there is something worrying him and it will resolve itself.”
Catherine nodded, though she wasn’t so sure. Father’s inability to communicate just lately worried her immensely; it was almost as if he had given up the will to live. But she said nothing to Vincent. At least now they were both aware of it, they might be able to do something about it.

*** *** ***


There was something pricking at father’s memory, something he had started to read a few days ago that seemed right now to suit his mood. Where was that book?
Casting his mind back, he remembered and felt guilty. Of course he had pushed the book beneath his chair with his foot that day it had slipped from his lap to the floor. Father glanced in that direction sure enough there lay the book just as he’d left it. He stooped now to pick it up, and flicked through the pages until he found the poem he was looking for, and begun to read in an undertone;

My days among the Dead are past;
Around me I behold,
Where’er these casual eyes are cast,
The mighty minds of old:
My never failing friends are they,
With whom I converse day by day.

With them I take delight in weal
And seek relief of woe;
And while I understand and feel
How much to them I owe,
My cheeks have often been bedewed
with tears of thoughtful gratitude.

My thoughts are with the Dead; with them
I live in long past years,
Their virtues love, their faults condemn,
And from their lessons seek and find
instruction with a humble mind.

My hopes are with the Dead; anon
My place with them will be,
And I with them shall travel on
Through all Futurity;
Yet leaving here a name, I trust,
That will not perish in the dust.



(Among His Books by Robert Southey 1774 – 1843)


Father closed the book with a nod of approval. Yes the poet was right. Books were good friends. Within their pages one could learn, could travel, could venture with the dead, could read about times past, times yet future, could lose oneself in the realms of fantasy, fact and fiction. And within the minds eye one could ‘see’ beyond the words and through the picture that they painted.
Nonetheless though, at the close of the last page, one was brought back into sharp reality and the cold hard depression bit back with a vengeance.
The approach of footsteps had Father raising his eyes, but he did not move from his chair, neither did a smile of welcome grace his lips. Vincent followed by Catherine and one of their son’s came down the steps to his chamber, their eyes filled with concern.
“Father are you well, we missed you at dinner?” Vincent swept low and placed a kiss upon his father’s brow.
“I wasn’t hungry.”
He missed the look that passed from husband to wife.
“Were there many there?” Father asked not really caring either way.
“ A few, no one new. It seems that a lot of the tunnel dwellers are preferring to partake of their meals in their own chamber these days.” Father looked up somewhat startled by that fact.
“They miss you Father.” Catherine ventured wondering if she should.
“Miss me?” Father's voice rose in surprise.
“Yes. When the patriarch of the tunnels refrains from eating among his friends, those friends soon go their separate ways. Father something is happening down here. You seem to be withdrawn and people are noticing.” She’d said it gently, and though she had promised Vincent she would not say anything, the moment seemed right.
Father’s eyes flashed blue with anger, “And that’s my fault I suppose!”
“Not at all.” Vincent hastened to reassure his parent. “We just miss you that’s all, everybody does. Somehow mealtimes are no longer enjoyable without you there.”
“There was a time when everyone would have preferred my absence.” Father grumbled, “Especially when you were all plotting something unfavourable that you knew I would not approve of.”
That much was true and Vincent could not argue with that. He changed the subject; “People miss the chance to speak with you. We are all so busy with our lives below, things are not as they used to be, the community we once knew is changing, and many seldom have the chance to visit. Mealtimes create the only chance for us to be together.”
“Once there would have been social gatherings Father. You would invite people here for music recitals or poetry readings. It has been a long time since any of us have partaken of anything so entertaining.” Catherine spoke softly.
Father glared at her. “Nothing is the same anymore Catherine, because most of the people have gone above. There are strangers in our midst now. I do not know these ones.”
“And you do not try to get to know them Father. Even your standing within the council has slackened. It is seldom that you turn up for a meeting to access the plight of someone wishing sanctuary below. If you did, at least then you would know who is new down here. Why some of the new tunnel dwellers only know of you by name, and many have lived here for quite sometime.”
“Then they should go for meals whenever I do grace the kitchen” Father snapped. “Its not all my fault. You’re forgetting Vincent that my chamber is before your own, yet people have no difficulty visiting you and Catherine. They could come to see me too, if it meant all that much to them.”
“They don’t know you Father.”
“And obviously they don’t want to do either. Vincent, Catherine, I understand your concern but it is unjustified. I only want to be left alone. At least these new tunnel dwellers pay me that courtesy.”
A growl issued from Vincent’s chest, “That was un-called for Father. You have never prevented us from coming here as we have pleased. If you don’t want our company, then just say so.”
Father stared up at his son, “I thought I had just done so.” His eyes held Vincent’s defying him to reply.
Catherine felt rather than saw the tears rise to Vincent’s eyes. Her husband turned away lest Father see what he had done. The stinging bite to his words had cut through his son’s heart deeper than a two edged sword.
Taking his arm, Catherine turned Vincent away, “Come David,” she called to their youngest son, “Grandfather needs his rest.” The child took her hand, and together the three left the chamber without another word.

*** *** ***


Those of old that remained of the council were concerned, “It’s so unlike him.” Elizabeth stated. “Oh I know he misses the old way. But we have had to move on. Modernisation hasn’t just hit the world above. We’re in the nineties now. Another eight years and we’ll enter a new century. I never thought I would see the day when Father refused to go ahead. He used to be such fun, such a pillar of support.”
“I know his legs play him up quite a lot these days,” Pascal stated flatly, “But there is still so much he could get involved in. Why he doesn’t even invite anyone to play chess anymore.”
“The chess set is covered in an inch of dust, that shows how long it is since he last played it.” Catherine told them all.
Each looked from one to the other gravely. “It’s more serious than I thought then.” William told no one in particular. “Chess was his life.”
“We have to do something. He’s slipping away from us. Even books aren’t occupying his time like they used to do. He just sits and dreams, staring into the flickering fire of the stove all day, I think he could be going senile.”
Everyone looked at Cullen wide eyed, no one had thought about this possibility.
“No.” Vincent shook his head; “it’s not that. When he does chose to speak, it’s with his usual intelligence. It’s just that the spark has gone. His devilment for fun and teasing is missing. I’ve been on the end of his merciless taunts more times than I can count, but I’d go through every embarrassing moment again in the space of a day, if only to have him throw something else at me just the once now.”
“What do you think he needs Vincent?” Catherine asked.
“I’m not one hundred percent sure. But the books he has read just lately are ones that highlight the earth above. I’ve noticed them in little piles around his table. Books about nature and travel brochures piles of those, though where he got them I do not know.”
“He’s missing life above.” Elizabeth mused.
“No, I don’t think so, not exactly. Perhaps that is what he tells himself, but something took him to that stage. It’s not the root cause. I think he feels unwanted. Let’s face it, everyone from the old days has someone now. I’m married, Pascal is, Cullen, William, Mouse, even you Elizabeth.”
“I love the way he says it, even you…” Elizabeth’s voice trailed away on a hint of laughter and everyone joined her.
Sheepishly Vincent grinned.
“Its all right Vincent do go on. I understand, thousands wouldn’t.” she smiled and patted his hand.
Vincent continued, “Things altered for Father the day that Mary went above. I do believe that he had begun to look around him and see that everyone was pairing off except him, and for the first time he noticed that there was he and Mary. Then no sooner had he thought it, and before he could do anything about it, she had gone.”
“Well she’s not coming back just to make the old guy happy.” William’s voice boomed, “Mary is happy with George.”
“I know that, but who is there for Father?”
“He had his chance Vincent. Mary spent decades hankering after that man. He just kept her waiting too long.”
“I know that William, and as you say that situation can’t be altered, neither would it do any good to set him up with someone else, no that’s not the answer at all. I don’t think romance is the answer, I think we are. Together we have to make him feel needed, even when he snaps our heads off. And he will, because right now he is like a bear with a sore head. We’ll just have to ignore that.”
“That won’t be easy. But if you think it’ll work Vincent?”
“I do.”
“If I might make a suggestion?” Everyone turned to Catherine. “If Father is looking at travel brochures, then he is obviously missing the places above. Even if he could go and see them, there would be endless questions to answer. Like where he lives for the passport office. Then he will need money to go and his age is against him. Not only that but with his disability he couldn’t travel far. Sitting cramped in a bus for hours on end while he travels around America would do him no good at all. Exploring the world above is not what he needs, not while there are more than enough sights below to enchant him.”
“I agree with that Catherine.” Vincent replied softly, “But the same applies. If he is missing the sights above, then there are sights to behold below that are equally as stunning, but his disability would still hinder him from seeing them. Travelling to the great waterfall is just about far enough for him these days.”
“I know.” Catherine bit her lip. “But if he were to undertake a trip above there would be people trained to take care of his every need and see that he got what he paid for no matter what. Therefore couldn’t we try, couldn’t we work out a way to take him on some of the trips to the subterranean levels. Has he ever been down that far?”
“No doubt when he first arrived here he did. But I shouldn’t think he has ever seen anything like the crystal cavern.” Vincent told them.
“Arh yes the crystal cavern.” Catherine’s eyes sparkled just like those gemstones, “with its bounty of dazzling lights. How Father would love to see those colours.”
All eyes turned to her.
“Catherine it is a long and perilous journey.” Vincent began as through the bond he caught her excitement.
“And such an adventure too.” She laughed gaily. “Vincent it would be perfect if we could all go. If we took it slow and rigged up some kind of stretcher for the tough parts. We could take the children and go at their pace or if we took some more of the older ones, and carried them the same way, even if they only pretended to need it, Father wouldn’t feel so useless and he would enjoy it Vincent, you know he would.”
“He would grumble mercilessly.”
“Yes he would.”
“He’d drive us mad.”
“Yes he would.”
Vincent smiled, “You could put up with that?”
“To see him come back to us. Yes Vincent I could cope with that. And just see what he would get from it at the journey’s end. Come to that all of us. I have only been to the crystal cavern once and the children have never seen it. It would be a great adventure Vincent. What do you say?”
Catherine looked to each person sat around the table. Openly they grinned one after the other their eyes bright with excitement. “I’ve never seen it either.” Many remarked, “I’d like to do. I think the idea could work.”
Vincent’s eyes were bright with a growing excitement, “Cullen, can you make something that we could carry people on. It needs to be not only a stretcher but something capable of lowering people down shafts, and waterproof too.”
“I can make anything Vincent you know that. It might take me a couple of weeks, but no doubt the whole trip will take that to organise anyway.”
Vincent nodded, “Yes, and I think we should tell Father about it as soon as possible. No surprises or secrets, and whether he agrees to come or not, he’s going, even if we have to strap him gagged and bound to a stretcher to take him there.”
Everyone giggled at the sight that thought presented, knowing that the possibility of it occurring was more than probable.

*** *** ***


Vincent’s perception of father could not have been nearer the mark if he had wanted it. From the moment Father was told of the planned adventure he found everything he could to dissuade everyone from going, and most of all for expecting him to be a party to it.
“Over forty years I have lived here, and you think I haven’t explored every nook and cranny in that time!” he shouted at Vincent after the plan was put to him.
“There are places you couldn’t possibly have seen Father. Some were not discovered while you were capable of exploring the lower levels. There are sights to behold Father, and we would very much like to have you share them with us.”
“I’m not going. And that’s final.” Father crossed his arms, as if in defence, “And you can’t make me.”
“I shouldn’t bank on it.” Vincent whispered beneath his breath.
“What was that?” Father’s angry eyes glared at his son.
“We want you to come.”
“I’m not going.”
But everyone is going, Father please, it won’t be the same without you.”
“I don’t want to go.”
“Then you’ll be here all alone.”
“Good. Maybe then I’ll get some peace and quiet. Yes quiet, is Pascal going?”
“Yes.”
“Good no bloody tapping for five days, perfect. You lot go, leave me here, I will have a wonderful time all by myself.”
“No Father we will not go and leave you by yourself. William aims to come, if he does who will cook your meals.”
“For five days! Vincent I can surely survive on cake and biscuits, cups of tea for five days. Besides are you taking the helpers too?” He snapped.
“The helpers?”
“Yes the helpers Vincent, or have you forgotten the supplies that they bring us. If I needed anything someone would bring it to me.” Father sneered.
“And who would pass on your message?”
For a moment Father paled, “Everyone is going?”
“Yes Father everyone. It is a mass exodus to the lower levels. We are going to enjoy ourselves and have the biggest adventure ever known here below all at once.”
For a moment Father felt himself relenting, then stubbornness kicked in again; “Well I’m not going Vincent.”
Vincent tried another line of reasoning, “Why not?”
Father glared at him, steely blue eyes clashing with china blue eyes. “Because I don’t want to go off on some godforsaken adventure to the lower levels. They are cold, perilous and tiring, and I am an old man in need of home comforts that’s why.” He snapped.
Vincent shook his head, “you’re wrong.” He told his father, but before Father could reply, Vincent had exited from the chamber.

*** *** ***


Just a little over two weeks later, the final preparations were complete, and everyone was ready to embark upon their big adventure.
The children had spoken of nothing else for the whole of that time, the tunnels buzzing with it, and reluctantly Father had found himself caught up with odd snatches of the adventure, and had been peeved that no one had insisted on his going anymore. After that first and last conversation with Vincent about it, his going with them all seemed to have been forgotten.
And if father had found no consolation in his books before, he certainly got no peace from them during that two weeks of preparations. Try as he might to become absorbed, something would always be within the printed page to remind him, and so Father’s annoyance grew.

When the day of departure arrived, the excited chatter filled the tunnels to overflowing, and Father’s wrath increased, until he found himself shouting at anyone that dared to come near his chamber, until word passed to give him a wide berth. That too ruffled him somewhat. When there had been excited chatter to annoy him, he had been able to let everyone know in no uncertain terms how stupid this adventure was, and now everyone was avoiding the area of Vincent’s chamber where they had to pass by Father’s first, he found that equally annoying.
Hobbling along to the main hub with fury his only friend, Father approached the large group of tunnel dwellers assembling there at the start of their journey, with the intention of giving them all another lecture. When suddenly he felt his feet slip from under him, but instead of the crashing blow he had anticipated as he hit the floor, firm arms held him flat. And in less than the blink of an eye, he found himself harnessed to a stretcher like contraption with no way out.
“What the….” Father swore, surprising everyone that he could or would, as slowly stifled giggles erupted from the large group of adventurers.
“I demand that you set me free at once!” he rasped.
“Sorry Father.” Catherine’s face appeared from out of the crowd, “I am afraid to tell you that you are being kidnapped.”
“Kidnapped!” Father bellowed, “Let me go at once.”
“No.” a firm voice he recognised at once silenced him. And Father turned his head to the voice, not surprised to see Vincent glowering down at him. “You are coming with us Father. Like it or not.Everything is packed that you need, or will soon be now that you are out of your chamber. And you are damn well going to enjoy yourself.”
Everyone gasped, to hear Father swear something unprintable was one thing, but to hear Vincent enforce his authority in such a way was also quite astounding.
“Or what?” Father sneered. “Hum tell me that. What are you going to do with me if I refuse to come, eh?” he replied with sarcasm. Vincent stared at him, as a soft growl issued forth, “Or I’ll eat you.” He told him unflinching.
Father and son stared at one another, defying each other to look away or comment further.
“You wouldn’t?” Father knew Vincent would never do such a thing, but there was no denying those deadly fangs when his son was angry, perhaps angry enough to do something he’d regret? Father wasn’t so certain about that anymore, as Vincent’s eyes bore down on him, and utter silence had befallen the crowd.
Father looked around him. He was held fast to the contraption, there was no escape. Every person was loaded down with some rucksack of some kind filled with everything needed, “Have you got the medical supplies?” he murmured.
Everyone nodded and their eyes brightened.
“First aid kit?” Again everyone nodded again.
Father drew in a deep breath, “Then let’s go shall we?” the huge sigh of relief that swept through the crowd made Father smile. Perhaps the whole affair wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Besides as he stole a glance in Vincent’s direction, Father grinned, it beat being eaten he thought. And Vincent stared blankly at him for long moments before grinning back.

*** *** ***


They walked for half a day, this happy group of men women and children, before Vincent felt that everyone needed a well-earned rest. Finding a suitable spot, one he had entertained before, he helped the elderly with their packs before settling down himself to partake of some of William’s excellent tea, that had been brewed while he was busy.
Holding her own cup of steaming tea, Catherine leaned against Vincent’s thigh, his hand resting lightly upon her shoulder, with just enough firmness to make her feel protected. Not that there was any fear in the company they were with, far from it, but because he knew that she needed his closeness. Together or apart, each felt the need to be a part of the other, so much so that they would sit close whenever a situation allowed for it.
To the onlookers, this proved a source of joy. The happiness that was emanating from the pair provided delight to one and all.

For the most of the journey Father had grudgingly allowed himself to be carried on the contraption, although he had been freed from bondage at the onset of the journey, when it was presumed that he would no longer take to flight. And Father had in fact been grateful to those that had shared the burden of taking his weight. Now as he alighted from his harness, he stood and stretched, grateful that the cavern Vincent had chosen had headroom to do so.
Soon the aroma of William’s fresh bread was filling the cavern as he warmed pre-baked loaves over the fire he had built, and Father was beginning to feel rather jolly, though he wasn’t about to say so. Looking around him, he recognised the cavern. It had been years since he had sat down within it, but he could remember it clearly.
Together he and Vincent had gone there when Vincent was a teenager not long after the Lisa incident, and the pair had spent a couple of days there in conversation and healing. As Father remembered this, he stole a look in Vincent’s direction, and caught his son watching him sombrely. Vincent’s eyes were unreadable, but Father could tell by his expression that Vincent was remembering the time every bit as he was. Father decided not to mention it.
As the fire took hold and crackled loudly, William placed a large cooking pot filled with vegetables and diced meat over it, and very soon everyone was reaching for a plate to fill with hot stew and warm soft bread.
More tea was to follow, after which everybody dutifully fed and sleepy reached for their bedrolls and smoothed them out upon the floor, one alongside the other for warmth, and Catherine busied herself placing the bedding of her children alongside the bedding of her own and Vincent’s.
Most of the other children, unused to camping out were also bringing their bedrolls closer to Vincent’s much to the chagrin of their own parents.
“It’s easy to see who figures as the tunnels protector, even in young minds.” William laughed. Vincent grinned, “they are very welcome, the closer they all get to me, the warmer I’ll be.”
Everybody laughed, but was more than happy to see Vincent place Father’s bedroll right alongside his own, as was Father. It made him feel warm and cherished inside, and as Vincent helped him over to his place, the pair caught one another’s expressions, and Father could not help remarking, “You wouldn’t really have eaten me would you Vincent?”
Vincent stifled a grin, and tried to look serious, “That’s for me to know and you to worry about.” He told his father sternly, making everyone giggle again.

That first night, after the last candle had burned low, and its dying wick flickered no more, the darkness crept back over the huddled people upon the floor, outlined only by the withering embers of the log fire.
Though all of the children were fast asleep a few of the adults stared up at the roof of the cavern, their ears straining to pick out sounds that only the absolute darkness can bring, hearing things normally overridden by other sounds.
From somewhere distant, the gentle drip of water could be heard, and William listening intently to the sound found himself singing softly, much to the surprise of the others. “Drip, drip, drip little April showers. La lala la lala la lala la. Drip drip drip, little April showers, la lala la lala la lala la.”
“What’s with the la la?” Pascal nudged him in the side.
“I can’t remember the words.” William laughed softly, but you remember it surely.”
“Can’t say I do.”
“It’s from one of those Disney films.” Cullen murmured sleepily, though why Will’s suddenly thought of it beats me.”
“That’s why then, I’ve never watched a film in my life.” Pascal replied somewhat sadly.
“I’m sorry I never thought.” William ventured.
“That’s okay. But anyway, what brought on the song?”
“That trickle of water, can’t you hear it?”
“Not now. I could before you broke into song, it was edging me to sleep.”
“I didn’t feel tired before but I guess I do now!"
“You should sleep.” Came a soft voice from one side of the cavern, “We’ve a long way ahead tomorrow. You will need your rest.”
“Ever the pessimist Vincent.” William groaned good naturedly, “but I guess you’re right, sorry we woke you.”
“That’s all right. Good night.”
“Goodnight Vincent.” Each chorused. Nonetheless it was some time before William finally gave into the demands of his body, taking pleasure as he was in all the little precious sounds dancing around him that he had never really noticed before.

*** *** ***

The following day after breakfast and pack up, everyone was excited as they set off on the trail again. The night’s rest had refreshed them sufficiently to stride ahead in pairs following behind Vincent. Catherine fell some way behind, bringing up their three children. David was the youngest. His fair good looks and bright inquisitive blue/green eyes reminiscent of his father’s gazed everywhere. This magical journey was a delight to him.
He had been below before, but never so far, and never on such an expedition as this. His young heart was bursting with happiness. Holding onto his mother’s hand tightly, he scanned through the throng ahead, happy every time his sight rested upon the broad shoulders and tawny hair of his father, and a little bit apprehensive when Vincent was out of view. He knew the way ahead was perilous, and despite his father’s expertise of life in the subterranean world he feared for his safety.
He loved his father fiercely, and the one thing that always grieved him, was that he hadn’t inherited his father’s looks. In many respects this longing was at the root of the friction that occurred between himself and his brother Daniel who looked the image of his father.
Daniel just two years older than David bore those same striking features as their father, except that his eyes were green like their mother’s. David thought this was far better, for Daniel’s looks then represented the king of the jungle and sometimes David craved the awe and the glory shown to Daniel by all the other children below.
Only Jacob their older brother had inherited the same looks as their mother, save for his stunning blue eyes like that of their father and the tawny locks that signified him as his father’s son.
David wondered what a sister might look like, if they had one. He knew his mother longed for a daughter, and in David’s four-year old mind he conjured up all kinds of looks for his future sister.
Even now as they walked, he imagined her description. ‘She won’t have long hair like dad, ‘cos girl lions don’t have manes, and she won’t grow as big, ‘cos girl lions aren’t as big as boy lions, and she won’t have big teeth. I bet she’ll look like mom even and wear lipstick and paint her eyes and smell of roses.’ David giggled at the image represented itself, causing Catherine to look down and smile at him, “What gives?” she asked him merrily.
David giggled harder, “Just things.”
“Are you enjoying the trip?” His mother asked him.
“It’s great…”
“But?”
Why did parents do that? Why did they know what you were thinking? David asked himself. He smiled up at her, “Can I walk with dad?” he asked.
Catherine understood at once. A lump caught in her throat. Even at such a young age, David’s longing to walk alongside Vincent echoed her own. Right back here walking alongside people she had known for years felt good, but the pleasure would be intensified if it were Vincent who walked alongside her.
David’s longing mirrored her own, and she wasn’t a bit surprised when Vincent declared that they should rest, turning himself around to scan through the throng until his eyes met hers.
He had known, as he always knew the secret yearnings of her heart.
Even just lately when her body craved the feel of another life beneath her heart, Vincent had known ahead of her that she had wanted another child. A daughter this time, though her three healthy sons brought her great joy, Catherine longed for a daughter and her eyes told of her sadness and inability to conceive.
Threading his way through the crowd, taking time to help others loosen their packs, Vincent finally made it to her side. His eyes met hers, and she walked into his embrace as if she had been without him for months. There she had come home. He enfolded her against him, allowing her the pleasure to feel his strong heartbeat against her face giving her the comfort she so badly sought.
“I’ve missed you Catherine.” He told her softly, nuzzling into her hair. She knew what he meant.
Back home in their own cavern they enjoyed a constant sexual relationship. Every night was the norm and last night though they had slept side by side, that usual closeness had been missing due to the people around them.
“I don’t think I can bear five days without you.” Vincent whispered so that only Catherine could hear. Pressed close to him, she felt the first stirrings of his arousal pushing hard against the pit of her belly. Her emotions swam within her, a dizzying whirlpool swamping her mind. She pressed herself tighter against him, telling him of her need. The time was crucial. She had known yesterday that it was creeping up on her. That yearning for a daughter had reached every part of her body. She was ready, it would happen now if only they had the privacy to make it so. Within her Vincent detected a change, a shift of emotions. He knew the signs, recognised the situation as it was, and looked about him, seemingly for somewhere they could go.
Catherine needed this, her eyes begged it of him.
He almost laughed. Why now?
In all the four years since David’s birth, this aspect of emotions had been missing, yet now the need was overriding all else. He was pulled along by it, and could only answer the call.
He needed not to ask, but asked anyway, “Does it need to be now?” he nuzzled into her ear.
Catherine bright eyed with happiness and apprehension nodded, the words fused together in her throat, unable to voice them.
“Come, we will find someplace.”
He pulled his cloak tighter around him, and leading her with his arm around her waist, he stepped through the crowd back towards the front again.
“Dad where are you going?”
“You stay here David, we won’t be long.” The exasperation in his voice was apparent. Some of the older ones understood. “You stay with us David, your mom and dad are checking the trail.”
Their winks embarrassed Catherine, who looked shyly away.
“I want to go.” David wailed.
“We won’t be many minutes David, you stay with grandpa, and your brothers and have a rest, there is still a long way to go today. If you come with us, you will be tired before you get back here, and then what will you do?”
“I won’t come back here. You could stay there with me mom, while dad comes back and fetches everyone to meet us.”
Vincent chuckled, “The wiles of a four-year old. Such wisdom.” Father’s merry eyes caught that of his son’s, “Surely you can wait Vincent.” He whispered, causing a deep red blush to infuse both Catherine and Vincent’s cheeks. They looked from one to the other; all eyes were now seemingly upon them. The reason for their going obviously apparent to one and all.
“I’ll use the subtle approach.” Catherine whispered into her husband’s ear. “You’ll know.” With that she left his side and went back to her place, busying herself with her pack, extracting from it something to eat and drink, while Vincent continued to gaze down at her, his longing intensifying.
After long moments of watching her, he too went to his own pack, and in silence partook of something to eat and drink.

After a while the cavern was filled with happy chatter and Vincent’s eyes met Catherine’s through the crowd. Silently they spoke to one another, and Catherine packed up her things and made the pretence of pulling a plastic bag and tissue paper from her pack, something each and every one of them did at some time of the journey when excusing themselves for privacy. No one took any notice, knowing the embarrassment of doing so and when David watched his mother get up and leave the area, he thought no more of it. Besides Father had engaged him in some recital of his favourite story along with the other children, and he took no notice of her leaving.

Passing by Vincent some seconds later, their eyes met in acknowledgement, and no sooner had Catherine exited the chamber did Vincent rise, pack his own rucksack, and with a quick glance that no one noticed he followed his wife eagerly.

The next section of tunnels branched away into three directions, but Vincent’s connection with Catherine told him exactly which direction she had taken. In the darkness of another chamber they moulded together, their hungry lips and hands devouring the other as if they had been apart for a long time.
“We don’t have long.” Catherine whispered, “And you must suppress your roar.”
“I know.” Vincent answered huskily, as he unbuckled his belt. Catherine pulled off her jeans, laying them at her side where she could find them easily again in the dark, her boots beneath them, but kept on her socks, because the cavern was really cold.
“We must hurry Vincent, no time for foreplay.”
“Its too cold for that.” He chuckled, “If I don’t do it soon, I won’t be able to do.”
He lay over her, his weight as always a pleasure upon her, and entered her quickly.
“Do you think it will work this time?” Vincent whispered.
“Yes.”
“No doubts?”
“None. It’s different this time Vincent. It’s just like the time with David and Daniel. I haven’t felt this for five years, but I recognise the signs. Tonight would have been too late.”
“Catherine, this is the key. We should have known.” He panted thrusting deeply one last time, and buried his face in her throat to drown out the roar that rushed to escape from his mouth as he emptied himself within her.
Catching their breaths, Catherine murmured, “Should have known what my love?” They began dressing, as their teeth chattered against the cold.
“Each time you have conceived my child, we have been below, deep in the bowels of the earth. It must be the magic of being here that makes it happen.”
“Good job we haven’t spent the last ten years of our married life living down here then.” Catherine chuckled, as Vincent joined her, “What you wouldn’t want ten of my children.” He chuckled.
Catherine sobered. “Actually Vincent…” she began, but he knew, she didn’t have to continue and he silenced her words with a deep and passionate kiss. She was a remarkable woman and he loved her more than life. That she had given of herself so willingly to him he could never begin to understand, but he knew she loved him, and he knew she would have given him a whole tribe of children had it of been possible.
“Let’s just hope that our daughter will be born from this occasion.” He whispered as he guided her back towards their friends.
“I just know that she will Vincent.” Catherine told him happily, “I feel it here.” She guided his hand to the region of her heart, “Thank you Vincent.” She told him warmly, and Vincent had no further doubts. Hadn’t she told him exactly the same with all three of their sons? A daughter, a daughter to love, a daughter with honey blonde hair and dancing green eyes and a love of life that was breathtaking. Vincent felt so happy, he thought he might burst.

*** *** ***


The following two days travelling were relatively uneventful, but each evening provided a fine time of entertainment for one and all.
Because of the shortage of candles no books had been brought on the journey, yet sitting in the near darkness each person entertained the others with tales of life as they had known it, or stories that they loved and could almost recite word perfect.
In the darkness the stories came to life in every person’s imagination, and took on a new perspective, and a deeper impression for remembrance.
The night before they reached their final destination, a silence lapsed upon the group of happy people, each filled with a sense of well being that could not be stolen away.
“You know I didn’t want to come.” Father remarked to no one in particular, thus breaking the silence.
“That was obvious.” William’s jovial voice echoed around the stillness, amid the gentle crackle of the fire.
“I’m so pleased that you forced me.” Father went on. “I don’t think I have enjoyed myself so much in years.”
A rush of love and happiness filled Catherine as she listened, “You seem to have been sad about something for so long Father, we wanted to include you in our plans, in fact the idea was primarily because of your sadness.”
Father felt immediately contrite. But Vincent’s next words soothed that feeling. “As it turned out I think it was what we all needed. We have all been so caught up in our own lives that we failed to recognise what has been missing. The community spirit that once we shared had vanished, but we were all suffering from its absence nonetheless, these few days away have helped us recapture what we lost. We must take care never to lose sight of it again.”
“Here, here.” Several tunnel dwellers echoed.
“Remember the days of song and dance.” William told them, “It wasn’t so long ago, yet we have let it slip. I loved those days preparing food for so many, inviting our helpers to join in the festivities. Life has become boring without us being aware of it. Your sadness Father made us sit up and take note, and I for one am sorry that I have neglected you.”
“Me too.” Others murmured. Father smiled into the darkness. “I thought no one needed me anymore. I was beginning to feel old and useless.”
“There will never come a time when we won’t need you.” Olivia stated firmly.
“You are so much a part of us, and we missed you greatly, even though at some instances we weren’t aware of it, why even Mouse has been subdued of late. Seems he thrived on your tickings off.”
Father chuckled. “It’s a pity he couldn’t have come with us.”
“He and Jamie drew the short straw, someone had to remain behind. But they didn’t seem to mind, and we have brought their children with us, so perhaps they are seeing it as some kind of holiday.” Cullen told them happily.
“So long as Mouse doesn’t blow the place up in our absence.”
“Oh I think Jamie’s plans for Mouse would render him too tired for inventions.” Catherine giggled, causing more than one person to blush.
“And you’d know all about that wouldn’t you my dear.” Father’s voice rippled with humour as he thought about the pair of them two days hence. It was Catherine’s turn to blush and she was glad of the darkness, but Vincent’s firm squeeze of her thigh soon had her composed again.
A few others giggled, and a for a moment a silence lapsed once again.
“I was feeling unwanted.” Father spoke again as if to himself.
“You were never unwanted.” Vincent soft and sure firm voice whispered in the darkness. It had an instant soothing effect on one an all. Like being encased is soft cotton wool, warm and cosy. “You have such wisdom to impart Father surely you know that?”
“Yes, but the modern ways are leaving me behind. I begun to believe that you found me too old to know what I was talking about, that my views were outdated, no matter how kindly they were offered.”
“No. We might not always agree with you Father. But we go away and dwell on your words, and in time, if we are truthful we reluctantly agree with you.” Pascal answered from the heart, as everyone agreed in hushed undertones.
“You are never old to us.” Elizabeth told him, “Besides we love you, and the things you tell us are good things, they benefit us. You see all those books you have read have been absorbed into a kindly heart and mind, and we can only gain from your knowledge. It is the stubborn person that doesn’t see what is in front of his very eyes that fails from your counsel. We love you Father, never forget that.” Inside Father was glowing. He felt suddenly cherished; it was a good feeling.
“I don’t know what to say.” He told them meekly.
“You don’t have to say anything for now. That you are enjoying being here is good enough for us. That and the fact that you know how we want things to be as they once were, if you are willing to guide us as before.”
“Oh I think I’m far too old and grey for leadership nowadays.” Father told them somewhat sadly.
“Not at all.” Catherine corrected him, “Gray-headedness is a crown of beauty when found in the way of righteousness Father didn’t you know that?”
For long moments Father was speechless. He was deeply indebted to Catherine for her solemn words; they filled the very depths of his soul. The others were quiet also, taking her words to heart, until Pascal said quietly, “Spoken like a true prophet.”
“It’s from the Bible?” Father was stunned, he’d read the Bible for years, but hadn’t noticed or taken that particular scripture to heart, probably because he hadn’t found it applicable he supposed. “It fits the situation.” Catherine answered somewhat shyly.
“Yes it does.” Agreed Pascal
“And it’s also very true.” Vincent remarked his arm around her shoulders hugging Catherine close. “We, all of us, love you Father. Your wisdom is a source of joy to us, and we are privileged to have one such as you among us. Look at the knowledge you have built up over the years. None of us can argue that it is not beneficial to us. Look how often you have understood even me.”
Father chuckled, “It’s probably because of you, that I am as good as I am.”
Vincent understood and laughed heartily as did the others.
“Welcome back Father.” Vincent chuckled.
Father glowed, “It’s good to be back.” He told everyone sincerely, and he meant it. From now on things would change. The old ways would return, and he would never feel unwanted again. Happiness oozed out of Father, and he had never felt so loved and needed as he did at that moment. “Thank you, all of you.” He told them with a voice tight with emotion, “I might not have been very good company these past few years, but please forgive me for my bad temper. That’s all in the past now. And I suggest that the moment we return we have the biggest celebration in the Great Hall ever that surpasses even Winterfest.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Boomed William.
“You probably will since you’re the punch maker and taster.” Added Pascal dryly.
Everyone laughed they felt so happy, and for a certainty, they’d got their dear father back.

*** *** ***


Father’s first impression of the crystal cavern was one he’d never forget. Taking up his rightful place as patriarch of the tunnel community, he led the last few yards to the crystal cavern alongside his son at the front of the line of happy travellers.
The crystals gave off a natural light from an unknown source, and on their approach the tunnels grew lighter.
Catherine could sense Vincent’s excitement and apprehension, knowing how he hoped that Father and the others would find the journey worth the trouble. That same apprehension had filled him when first he had taken her there, at the time of David’s conception, and Catherine knew that his fears were groundless. Everyone would delight in what they saw, as had she.
Stepping through into the chamber, Father’s first words stuck in his throat, turning instead to a cry of exclamation at such beauty before him. “Oh Vincent!”
Catherine smiled; they had been her very first words too. The cavern was spellbinding.
As each person entered behind Father, Vincent’s joy increased especially when he witnessed the delight upon the faces of the children. They literally shone with joy.
Turning around and around, the children stared to take in as much as they could of the glittering crystals set before them.
The many facets of quartz shone with a natural brilliance, its colours enhanced by other minerals soaking through the rock behind them.
A delicate shade of pink highlighted traces of titanium, and the golden coloured quartz showed an iron content. The clear quartz was simply breathtaking. Just like ice, it twinkled fire from the carried lanterns, yet seemed to hold a fire all it’s own from deep within.
Father could clearly see why Vincent had chosen some of this crystal as a gift to Catherine. It was the most beautiful of all the crystals set before them. The chamber was huge, yet as far as the eye could see the crystals fairly dripped from the ceiling in huge stalactites, and Father was delighted to note that in a further corner large quantities of Amethyst had been forming for possibly centuries. The shades of purple, lilac and mauve a delight to the eye.
“Look at this!” were the only words echoing around the chamber.
Vincent was kept busy, helping the women and children chip off a keepsake to take back with them. “Mouse will be kept busy for years shaping all this into pendants.” He jokingly told them.
“We should mine this Vincent. There is such a lot of wealth here. We should take what we need to help pay for other things needed below. Do you think its possible?”
Vincent nodded, as he ran his hand over a collective assortment of jasper, bloodstone and agate. “I have considered this before Father. We could set up a work party to come down here a few times a year, and employ others to polish and shape the stones and turn them into pendants and rings, but I thought it were impossible since we haven’t the silver to make chains or rings with.”
“There’s no need Vincent. We could use leather. Forget the rings, just make pendants and attached them to leather strips. People would wear that, and if they didn’t like it they could always buy their own chains of gold or silver to put them on.”
Vincent nodded his eyes bright. “If we don’t mine it someone else will eventually, and there is so much here, and forming all the time, I think it would be a good idea, though we must find a helper willing to keep the secret of its location and not become greedy.”
“We will make the right choice, let the treasure chest be our guide.” Cullen solemnly agreed, as only he could, the experience of his find of the treasure chest and the consequent turn to greed still haunted him.
“It will benefit us in medical supplies and things we need for better living. I can’t believe it’s taken us so long to think of it.”
Father’s delight rubbed off on everybody, as all began to think of things to make. It was a wonderful prospect that lay before them. “In the meantime, let’s help ourselves to some of nature’s wonders shall we,” Olivia told them, “I for one could do with a new necklace.” Everyone nodded happily totally agreeing.

That evening, tired and happy, they left the stunning crystal cavern each promising to come again, and made their way to the stopover of the night before.
They ate in companionable silence filled with a tremendous sense of well being and love that it almost rendered each one to tears. Even after they had eaten, and cleared away, they rested against the rock wall, hardly feeling the biting stone as they had on previous nights, and the children though tired were feeling far too excited to sleep.
“Someone tell us a story.” Jacob asked to the darkness, lit only by the soft glow of the fire’s embers. A light that edged the darkness away, thinning from red gold to blackness in its wake.
“I don’t think I can.” William answered lazily.
“Me neither.” Pascal murmured his thoughts back in the crystal cavern. Other’s echoed their replies.
“Tell us a story Vincent.” One of Mouse and Jamie’s two children asked hopefully.
Vincent groaned, “I’ve told them all.” He smiled.
“Tell us a story Catherine.” Not to be put off, the children, now each as excited as the other were determined that someone should tell them something to get them off to sleep.
“I don’t know any.” She began, nudging Vincent when he started laughing.
“I don’t believe you. Sing us a song then.” Another child asked. Vincent really started laughing then, “ I doubt Catherine’s singing would render you sleepy.” He told them.
Father chuckled from his corner near the fireside.
“I’ll show you!” Catherine remarked indignantly.
“This should be good.” Father remarked with laughter in his tone.
“At least its so dark we won’t be sure its you.” Father joked, more like his old self now.
Catherine quietly fumed. “All right” she told them, “You asked for it.”
“Are you going to tell us a story?” David asked.
“No silly she’s gonna sing a song.” Daniel told him.
“Actually it’s both. And you must imagine the stories hidden within the words to benefit from it properly.” Only Vincent knew how nervous she was. It would be the first time she had performed in front of many people, though he had of course heard her sing lullabies to their children, and had annoyed her many times by asking were the children crying because she was singing to them or because of another reason.
“What’s it about. Animals?”
“Aliens?”
“A place?”
“Tell us what it’s about Catherine?” Each child asked in turn.
“Just listen, you’ll see.” She told them beginning to enjoy herself.
The suspense alone was exciting.
“Okay.” The children huddled closer, each tucking themselves down beneath their bedroll, ready for sleep, and waited for Catherine to begin as taking a deep breath and in as tuneful voice as she could muster Catherine started to sing slowly and softly;

‘Peaceful valleys, animals and children asking me
Tell the story that you told of sailors drinking tea
Tell the one about the man who saddled up the wind,
Pegasus and flying fish and woodmen made of tin

A kid knows what he wants to be before he’s nine or ten,
Cowboys, clowns and men of war or someone else’s friend
But nine grows into big boys pants and then to scars and pain,
Twenty’s fast and hard as nails and doesn’t come again.

There’s days to fall and days to rise and days for making haste
Days for seeking out yourself but no days you can waste
Night times filled with love so good it hurts to lay me down
Endless hallways dark with sleep and rivers dark with sound.

Peaceful valleys, animals and children asking me
Tell the story that you told of sailors drinking tea,
Tell the one about the man who saddled up the wind,
Pegasus and flying fish and wood men made of tin.

A large collective sigh drifted and echoed through the chamber, as each child took delight in his own imaginings and wove his own dreams to the words.
Catherine continued, happier now, her voice louder conscious of Vincent’s surprise.

Children climbing on my arms and pigeons on my head
Gee thee up my little man and dream a dream instead
Dream a dream of rocking chairs and flying through the night,
Then dream until the morning’s gone and turned the dark to light.

Then come and get your daddy if he hasn’t flown away
Rock him in your children’s hands and help him find his way
Take him to your hiding place and let him come inside
He’ll never tell your secret cross my heart and hope to die.

Peaceful valleys animals and children asking me
Tell the story that you told of sailors drinking tea,
Tell the one about the man who saddled up the wind,
Pegasus and flying fish and wood men made of tin,

Pegusus and flying fish and woodmen made of tin,
La la lala la, lala la la la.


The quiet after the last words sung was emphasised by the fact that no one spoke. There were no words. Enough had been said within the song to take each on a journey of his own, and most of the children had fallen fast asleep, and it wasn’t until Catherine had settled herself down in Vincent’s protective embrace, that she heard Father whisper softly, “That was lovely Catherine. Thank you my dear. Thank you for everything,” that she truly felt as though she floated on air.

And for the first time in a long time, the whole throng of tunnel dwellers slept safe and sound in the knowledge that they were as one happy family again. Their plan had worked. Father was returned to them, and the future of the tunnel community was brighter and more precious than any one of the beautiful crystals they had seen that day.
Catherine sighed as Vincent hugged her closer to his side, whispering in her ear, “I love you Catherine.”
“I love you Vincent.” She hugged him tightly against her, as deep within her his seed merged and grew with hers, and a new life was created, there deep in the bowels of the earth and Catherine sighed with happiness.
Yes this trip below had proved to be everything they had dreamed.
They had got Father back, and had proved to him that he was needed as much now as he ever was. And as she listened to Father softly talking and joking with William and Pascal, Catherine felt a rush of love for him. It surprised and gladdened her, and Catherine knew without a doubt that that crown of beauty she had placed upon him a few days earlier could never have been fitted upon a finer person.

Pegasus as sung by the late John Denver.

*** *** ***

                   

 


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The stories found within this website have been written by and for lovers of the American television series Beauty and the Beast and no infringement upon the rights held by Ron Koslow, CBS, Republic Entertainment, Witt-Thomas Productions or any other Copyright holder to Beauty and the Beast is intended.

Furthermore all the stories found on this website belong to Wendy Tunnard de-Veryard, are protected by copyright and none should be copied, added to or subtracted from or altered in any way, without the prior authorisation of the author.