Covenant With Earth
― Gertrude Stein
It was sad. We never reconciled. It was both of us really—our stubbornness.
Mother demanded I take my place in the family which meant managing the family business and living on the estate.
But I was determined to make it on my own and I did—made millions in Internet marketing before the credit crisis and the economic downturn that followed.
I wasn't expecting the registered letter I received from Thomas Gunn her solicitor and now the executor of her estate.
Mother had died, and already her remains had been disposed of, and now I was being summoned to attend the reading of the will.
It both shocked and saddened me to see how far we had drifted apart.
So, here we both were—interred in our separate limbos—she, possibly at peace, and I pondering whether to rebuild the ancient ruins and restore places long devastated.
As for the legacy of our relationship—well, that boat sailed and burned, and yet, I hope she’s found her own Valhalla.
She chose to be cremated and it sickened me, but I had no say in the matter.
It was Mother’s final wish—as was her hand-written will leaving the run-down estate to me, on condition I agreed, ‘to reside therein a fortnight.’
“What the hell is a fortnight?” I asked Thomas Gunn her executor.
“A two week period, Jonas—literally, fourteen nights.”
“That’s a fine expression—a fortnight,” I blustered, “I’d like to see you spend fourteen bloody nights in a dilapidated ruin.”
“I’d hardly call The Ashes a ruin, Jonas—the estate’s valued at over three million.”
“I ought to bulldoze the entire thing, or sell it off to the highest bidder.”
Gunn tried to be patient—but I could see his eyes had gone hard and his jaw muscles were flexing.
“The estate has been in your family for two hundred years,” he sighed. "I wouldn’t act too hastily. If you need cash, you can take back a mortgage against the equity. The house is fully paid off.”
I glowered at him. “You don’t get it do you? It’s not about money—the place is cursed. It turns everyone to ashes.”
He gave me a tired shrug. “Well Jonas, death levels everything. We are born unequal; we die equal.”
My jaw dropped. His remark took me totally off guard and disarmed me. I wasn’t expecting even a hint of rebuff from him.
He coloured slightly and muttered, “It’s Seneca—my motto you might say—a plumb line to keep things in perspective. A reminder of mortality, I suppose.”
“Ah yes, memento mori—but nevertheless, well said, Mr. Gunn.”
He gave me a kindly smile and clapped me on the back in a fatherly way.
“Whatever you decide, Jonas, just let me know. I’ll be glad to assist."
He looked at me compassionately as if to forgive my youth.
"You can begin your residency whenever you choose, but remember—it must be a continuous, uninterrupted two-week stay, and when completed, the property is yours to administer as you see fit.”
I hated pondering the fate of Mother’s ashes and mused about the problem for a week.
In the end, I decided to have the undertakers inter the urn in a portion of a low field stone wall overlooking the path leading down to the pond. I instructed them to affix a bronze plaque with the inscription:
Alexandra Lennox
Died May 23, 2019. Age: Eighty Years
May she be given beauty for ashes.
I know—it went against all my hurt feelings and bitter sense of entitlement, but as Mother said, I’d always end up doing the right thing—whatever that meant.
The fact was, I hadn’t decided what to do with the property, but until I did, her remains would rest on her beloved estate with a view overlooking the pond.
Lucky her.
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I know you are only being polite - but they never read ANY of the replies. They do not even visit their own account to see what is posted there (they are supposed to, as they tell you on their site that if you do not want them to post this comment of theirs, just write STOP and they will). Since they never read anything, it does not work. Which is why this is the only account on Steemit that I keep flagging/downvoting whenever they post in my posts.
I have never used the new downvote function - I listen occasionally - I think it's a good feature but it has bugs - AI still has a ways to go. Hey, I'm happy to get any response - I'm a writer, lol
I respect the right of everyone to choose for themselves. I do not like it and I should have the right to stop them. On their site, they offer those who do not want it the choice, saying, "make a comment with just the word STOP and we will stop posting in all your posts." I used STOP on all 3 of my accounts and they ignore it, continuing. After asking them to stop a third time, I decided to flag them (if it affects the money-wise, maybe that will make them re-think).
Otherwise, I am against flagging and only do so on a tit-for-tat basis (and reverse mine as soon as I get an apology or they reverse theirs).
As the author, aren't you responsible for your characters? Shouldn't you advise him not to stay there or else he will be ensnared...
Since it has been in the family for so many years, I guess he will not meet a ghostly girl and fall in love...
Be fun to see which way it twists and turns
:)
Did anyone ever tell you, Arthur, that you rub the gilt off the gingerbread? Ha ha...you think you know me and all my limitations...Actually, my wife said something similar today...I always aspired to be a man of mystery and not predictable. I'm such a failure. This writing thing - you never know what you're going to do and you only hope somehow it's new :)
Yes, I did let my enjoyment of letting my imagination go wild dictate what I wrote.
I actually felt , after posting my comment, that I had crossed the line. I would hate it if someone did it to me - so my sincere apologies.
I usually use the standard, that if I feel I am being 'clever' it means I am not and I resist the urge. This time it seems I ignored the signals until it was too late. My only excuse is that I had just come out of a root canal without a narcotic injection and was not listening to my own inner voice.
Now I am looking forward to seeing how you handled the story.
btw - as to your aspirations, it is very much how I see myself. I only want to be predictable in how I respond to ethical/moral situations. If I remain true to myself, then I cannot avoid becoming predictable to those who know me well.
No, no, My friend, I was teasing you - you said nothing wrong -btw, I sympathize with your oral surgery - can be very painful and all those meds...Ugh!!!
I often adopt the persona of the misunderstood, conflicted victim and most of my heroes behave the same way - surprise? LOL!! My wife constantly points this out because of course it's true, but it's also part of my voice and comes out in my poetry and I might add in the narrative of how I see myself in my personal life - I'm being very honest here because I often use a style of language that can make it seem as if I'm pontificating - Hate when I do that - it's an affectation I picked up at university and it still persists which is no doubt why I can write so realistically about the campus scene and the angst of various professors, lol.
I was actually complimenting you as usual on your unfailing instincts for grasping the locus of the narrative and predicting its eventual outcome. And I do appreciate it also when you spot a typo or ( horrors) an elliptical thought or grammatical error - @creatr used to do that and I appreciated it very much because I'm writing without another set of eyes reviewing my work. Mind you, I found it interesting when working on my first novel that an editor made so few corrections - I actually went back and reviewed what I wrote knowing that I tend to hurry through occasionally and not take enough time.
Such a long explanation for such a wee comment :) Phew!
Actually, your comment was brave - and it helped me realise that in the ways you described, we are similar.
The one thing I am, which I do not usually mention, is quick to anger, but also quick to regret it and apologise...if I was even a little wrong in my own eyes.
The major difference between us, is that you found someone to love you...for a long time.
It is a strange fact that if you read the story of my life, you would say 'this guy is weird and surely even half of it cannot be true' and I've had some say I have lived an interesting life. I have, for I never went along with the attitude that I must be the same as everyone else...and I think I can create some stories that are weird or interesting, and yet, basically, I am a very boring person....which is why women tend to want me as a friend, not as a lover (or at least, not for long). It is why all my characters hate being told they are 'nice'.
I think honesty is so important to being authentic but I struggle with it. One of my friends was totally honest - he was an admirer of Albert Camus and identified with Mersault in The Outsider (L'Etranger). I made stabs at following his rigid code but could never quite do it - if ever. I like things to run smoothly - even if insulted, I try to smooth it over until unfortunately I arrive at the end of my patience and then, watch out! I think I arrived at the end of my patience so many times in my life that my family probably thinks of me like a bully-tough guy - yeah, I kind of identify with Robert DeNiro, lol. But when my better angels are in control I'm embarrassingly sensitive and vulnerable and since I have no control at that point, I feel socially awkward. Sometimes it's easier to punch out someone than to empathize - makes me wonder how I write anything at all, to be honest, but somewhere inside a real person's hiding ...I suppose.
BTW, I forgot to respond to your other part about relationships. I hear you re women, and my pet peeve is hearing someone refer to me as 'a good man'. I don't know why but it seems so patronizing and dismissive but I'm sure that's just me. As for long relationships, I think it's simple - don't leave. Yeah...simple, basic and probably trite, but that's all I've got, Arthur on that :)