The Tyro Installment #7 - Uncle Oliver

It was a beautiful, sunny day when Oliver began his trip to his sister’s home in Columbus. Sunlit, fluffy clouds dotted the bright blue sky, and Oliver smiled with satisfaction.

“What a day,” he said to himself, gazing at the scenery. “What…a…day!”

It was about a two-hour drive to his sister’s house. He pulled into her subdivision a little before eleven o’clock. The entrance had long, curved, stone walls on either side with the words “Wellington Woods” fastened to the face in stylish gold letters. The houses were all very large, the lawns very manicured, and the cars very expensive. Oliver’s late model truck would stand out even if it were spotlessly clean, which it wasn’t.

He pulled into his sister’s drive, got out of the truck, and slowly made his way to the front door, admiring the beauty of the neighborhood as a man does who is satisfied and content with his own life. He reached his destination and raised his hand to push the doorbell, but withdrew it when he heard screaming from inside the house. He cocked his ear and discerned the voice of Preston and his mother, but could not decipher the words. He listened to the screaming for several seconds, then looked at his truck as if it were a getaway vehicle, but eventually sighed and rang the doorbell. Her words became clearer as she approached the door, and he heard the last part of her sentence before the door opened.

“…and this is your uncle right now, so you better start getting ready!” The door opened and instantly, the screeching of the young boy behind her assaulted Oliver.

“I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” Oliver winced with each screech, and the boy turned and ran into the house and away from his mother.

She sighed, gave Oliver a light hug and a peck on the cheek, and said, “Hi, Oliver. We’re having a little difficulty.”

Oliver stepped into the house and said, “It appears so.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll have him calmed down by the time you leave.”

“I hope so.” She closed the door and Oliver followed her into the kitchen.

She walked over to a coffeemaker sitting on the counter and placed her hand on the handle of the half-full pot. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Thank you. That’d be good.”

“Just a little cream, right?”

“Right.”

As she filled a cup and added some cream, he said, “Not keen on going, is he?”

She poured a cup for herself. “Well…you know…he’s getting to that age of rebelliousness…he’ll be okay. Don’t worry.”

“Jess…did you ever consider that maybe he has a good reason to rebel?”

“Wha-at? Like what?”

“Maybe he doesn’t like the idea of you leaving him. Maybe he wants to be with his mom and dad. Did you ever consider that?”

She sighed. “Oliver, we already discussed this. We can’t take him, and everything’s all set. Besides, he’s got to grow up sometime, and it might as well be now. He’s a little old to want mommy and daddy, don’t you think? So let’s just drop it.”

Oliver sat silent for moment, then said, “Okay, I’ll drop it, but let me ask you a question…are you telling me that even though mom and dad are dead and gone, you never wish from time to time that you could sit down and have a good talk with them? Because Jess, I do. That thought comes into my mind at least a couple times a month.” Oliver took a sip of his coffee as she stared at the floor.

“You’re never too old to want your mommy and daddy, Jess.”

Preston’s father entered the front door and broke the uncomfortable silence.

“OK, Jess! Everything’s set! Are you ready?”

She looked bewildered. “Ready for what?”

“Well, to go…go to the airport. Hi, Oliver. We really appreciate what you’re doing for us.” He stuck his hand out to him, and Oliver shook it.

“Airport? Aren’t we going out to lunch with Oliver?”

“No time. Sorry about that, Oliver. All this security at the airports…we have to be there hours before our departure to make it through on time. Is Preston ready?”

“Well, he’s all packed, and so are we. I guess we’re all ready. I just wasn’t expecting…”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just these stupid terrorists making life miserable for everyone. We really have to get going, though. Let’s get Preston’s bags into Oliver’s truck. Can you help, Oliver?”

They all trooped upstairs to Preston’s room. Preston’s father tried the door, but it was locked.

“Preston! Open up!”

There was no response.

“Preston! Open up this door right now!”

Still no response.

“Preston…we got no time for this! Open up!”

No response.

Preston’s father went into his bedroom and returned with a small screwdriver. He inserted it into a hole in the doorknob collar and turned the release screw until he heard a small click. They all went into Preston’s room to find the boy sitting on the edge of his bed scowling at them.

“What’s wrong with you? Come on! We gotta get going! Grab a suitcase and bring it down to Uncle Oliver’s truck,” said Preston’s father. On the floor of the boy’s room were seven large suitcases and two large boxes. Oliver’s eyes widened at the load.

“He’s bringing all this?” asked Oliver

“Well, it is for the whole summer,” said Preston’s mother.

Preston’s mother approached him slowly and stood near to him by the bedside.

“Preston?”

He glared at her in response.

“Preston…you understand why we can’t take you along with us, don’t you?”

His glare grew a shade angrier, and he lowered his head.

“You know that if it was possible, we’d take you with us, don’t you? But it’s just not possible. There’s just no way to work it out.”

He sat in stony silence.

“We’ll take lots of pictures and bring you back presents, and we’ll be calling you from time to time at your Uncle Oliver’s to check up on you. You’ll see…it’ll work out all right.”

The boy turned his head away from his mother. She raised her hand to touch him gently in some way, but then thought better of it and withdrew her hand as the men came back into the bedroom.

“Hey, whatever happened to women’s equality and all?” said Preston’s father with a smile, gesturing toward the luggage.

She smiled weakly, and muttered “right”, as she grasped the handle of one of the large suitcases with both hands and lugged it out the door and downstairs. Preston’s father grabbed the last two suitcases and Oliver picked up one of the boxes. For a few moments, the boy was all alone. A single tear streamed down his face, but he quickly wiped it away before the adults returned. Preston’s father entered the room first and picked up the remaining box.

“Welp, looks like this’ll do it. Honey, can you start loading our stuff into the car?”

Preston’s mother left Oliver alone with the boy. He walked over and stood beside the boy.

“You don’t like this idea very much, do you?”

The boy shook his head almost imperceptibly.

“Well, I don’t blame you. I’d feel the same way if I were you. I wish there were some way I could talk your parents out of it, but everything’s all set in their minds.” He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and said, “I guess we’ll just have to make the best of it.”

The boy stood, angrily pushed Oliver’s hand away from him with his arm, and hissed out the words, “Get away from me, you freak!” He stomped out of the room and downstairs.

After a few moments of slack-jawed amazement, Oliver muttered, “What in the world have I stepped into here?” He went downstairs to see if he could be of help loading more luggage.

In short order, all the luggage was loaded and the three adults stood outside the house, bidding each other farewell. Preston’s father shook Oliver’s hand firmly.

“We really appreciate you letting Preston stay with you for the summer, Oliver. You’ve really made this whole ordeal easier for us and eased our minds.”

“Don’t mention it. My pleasure.”

Preston’s mother handed Oliver a key. “Here’s a key to our house, just in case you should need to get in for some reason, and there’s keys to everything else on the little key rack in the kitchen. I think that’s everything…where’s Preston?” Her head swiveled about in search of him.

“He must still be in the house,” said Oliver.

“Well, he has to say goodbye to us…Prestoooon!” She went into the house calling for him. After a short time, she came out of the house with Preston slunking behind her. She bent down and kissed him on his cheeks, cupping his face in her hands.

“Now, you be a good boy at Uncle Oliver’s. Don’t give him any trouble. We’ll be calling very soon to check up on you.”

Preston’s father rubbed the boy’s head vigorously. “Seeya, champ. We’ll be back when school starts. You have a good time at Uncle Oliver’s. Let’s go, Jess.”

Then, with little fuss or ceremony, Preston’s parents hopped into their car and roared away, waving goodbye to Oliver and Preston. Oliver waved back, but Preston stood with his hands in his pockets and his head lowered.

They stood for a few moments in silence, then Oliver went to make sure the house was locked. When he came back, he said, “Welp, I guess we may as well go. Are you hungry? We’ll stop somewhere along the way.”

Oliver got into his truck. Preston shuffled slowly to the passenger side, opened the door, slumped into the truck beside Oliver, and slammed the door. They drove out of the tidy little community and headed for the highway.