Gatekeeper II - The Leaving: Gatekeeper Trilogy, #2

BOOK 3 IN THE TRILOGY

Find out how the story ends...

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I dedicate this book to Liz & Doc,

for causing me unbelievable amounts of stress –

and, thereby, doing your job right.

Thank you for being professors.

The Gatekeeper Trilogy:

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Gatekeeper I

The Finding

Gatekeeper II

The Leaving

Gatekeeper III

The Keeping

"I sat a long time, unwilling to go,

but my unfinished story urged me on.

I must act and wander."

~ George MacDonald, Phantastes

~ Chapter 1 ~

Dear Eddie,

Well, here I am, back in that upstart colony of rebellious, grammatically-challenged cultural miscreants, as you so charmingly referred to my homeland in your letter. Not only back States-side, but back in my own dear dorm room (heartbreakingly smaller than my luxurious English digs) at my own dear college (that’s uni to you). The last semester of my own dear undergraduate career begins tomorrow.

And I am terrified.

Life up to this point has been fairly well planned for me, you know? You go to elementary school, you go to middle school, you go to high school, you go to college, you graduate college...and then what? Suddenly, the chauffeured car of life comes to a screeching halt, the driver gets out, and you find yourself left with the keys and a running engine. No one’s going to be waiting as I come off the stage at graduation, ready to tell me what to do with this diploma for which I have worked my whole life. And it’s a degree in English – which just adds a whole other delicious element of vagueness on top of it all. Sometimes I wonder if Mr. Diggs was right about the usefulness of my discipline in particular and my existence in general...

And then I remember you pulling me in out of the rain and slamming the gate in Mr. Diggs’ face, and I tell myself I’m being a first-class ninny and move on with life.

But I miss England, Eddie. Truly. You have no idea how envious I am of you right now. I want to be back there so badly it hurts sometimes. It’s like a knot in the pit of my stomach – and no, it’s not because I stuffed myself on chips with cheese and gravy. I haven’t been able to find any fast food equivalent here of the dear kebab cuisine of Oxford. You can mourn for me later.

Well, ’tis now the dinner hour here, so I’d best toddle off to the dining hall and drown my sorrows in a bowl of cereal – that’s about all that’s fit to eat here on the weekends. Maybe I’ll even have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (I still can’t believe that’s a foreign concept to you; how do British kids make it through childhood without PB&J?) – got to get my strength up for the start of classes.

I have decided to dub this semester the final push. I’m expecting you to draw various historical connotations, from Waterloo to the Battle of the Bulge – and you might add in the Battle of Yorktown if you’re hungry for some humble pie, nationalistically speaking. Though comparing it to Napoleon and Hitler’s misguided attempts to slog ’cross Russia may prove more accurate analogies. We shall see.

Take care, Eddie, and say hi to your dad and uncle and Dr. Barney for me. And tell your dad that I gave you permission to make a kebab trip in my honor.

Stranded on the wrong side of the Atlantic,

Anna

P.S. How is Nicholas?

Anna Merritt stared out the window of her cozy dorm room, watching the rain pound against the glass, and considered deleting that last question.

There’s no harm in asking, she decided.

Mr. Truman had told her that she and Nicholas had moved past the point in their friendship where they could help each other, and that they needed to rebuild on their own; he hadn’t said anything about one inquiring after the other’s progress. After all, Nicholas had been her best friend in Oxford – him and Eddie both. Nearly all of her memories from her precious time abroad were bound up with him, somehow. They couldn’t expect her to stop caring about him completely.

But, then again, they had put her through one of the most trying periods of her life and then shipped her off back home with very little ceremony or explanation, so there was no telling what they expected.

Anna shook her head and stood up, pushing her chair back with more force than necessary and mentally berating herself. She knew that the Truman brothers and Dr. Barney valued her. Their farewell had been firm, but kind and regretful. In her saner moments, she could even understand their reasoning and approve of their decision to send her back home rather than finding some use for her in Oxford. Still, in moments like these, when a sensation more hopeless than homesickness wrapped itself around her heart and began to squeeze, she practically writhed at the unfairness of it all.

And it’s raining, she thought, fueling her inward fuming. Everyone warned me against the rain in England, but the weather there was pretty consistently gorgeous. The sky was always so much bluer than I’ve ever seen it here. And now, my first day back at ‘sunny Hope College,’ the heavens open up. Nice touch.

Anna? You ready?

The door leading into the bathroom – and then her suitemates’ room beyond – opened, and the suitemates themselves came bouncing in. Anna turned from the window, smiling in spite of herself. They were an adorable pair: Abi and Phoebe, roommates and best friends since freshman year, dubbed Abs and Phoebs by Anna during a late-night milkshake run their second week at Hope. Their disparate appearances – Abs was tall and skinny as a rake, while Phoebs was not an inch over five feet and described herself as plumpish – belied the identical souls underneath. With Anna, they constituted the invincible English major trio, determined to restore respectability and professional relevance to the discussion of literature, one all-night paper-writing session at a time.

You awake, Anna? Abs flopped unceremoniously onto Anna’s bed.

Bet you’re happy about the rain, Phoebs commented, perching at the foot of the bed. Does it make you feel you’re back ‘over there?’

Anna sighed, trying to shake off her reverie.

Not really. I was just thinking about that, actually.

We knew it! Abs crowed, poking Phoebs conspiratorially in the side. I said, ‘Phoebs, it’s awfully quiet in that room. What do you think Miss Anna is doing right now?’

"And I said, ‘I bet you a peanut butter fudge milkshake she’s staring morosely out the window, pining for that other place and all her other friends over there.’"

Anna laughed. You said those exact words? Even ‘morosely?’

I spent Christmas break reading the dictionary, Phoebs said serenely. Girding my loins for Stingler’s grammar class. Why? Was I right?

Ten points.

"Only ten? For morosely?"

Well, that’s enough moroseness for now, Abs cut in. Time for dinner!

Anna gestured to the neatly made-up bed on the other side of the room. Shouldn’t we wait for what’s-her-face?

Christine. She’s probably in the library.

She’s always in the library, Abs said carelessly. I don’t think you’ll have too much trouble with her, Anna. She’s really sweet, and she’s never here. She studies constantly.

Business major, Phoebs whispered.

Why are you whispering? Anna whispered back.

This suite is an English major haven, Phoebs said solemnly, her round eyes even wider than usual. A last stronghold for the delightful impracticability of a liberal arts education. Don’t want to muddy the air.

She can’t help being a business major, Anna laughed.

Well, nobody’s perfect. Abs glanced at the impeccably neat desk. Really sweet girl, though. It’s been nice having her around – when she’s not in the library, which is never. You ready?

I guess.

Oh, come on, Anna, Abs admonished. Your first meal safely back within the hallowed halls of Hope College! A bit more enthusiasm, please.

Anna paused, looking at the framed picture on her desk: herself, Nicholas, and Eddie, on top of the Reichstag. Taken by Trench Coat Man, the mysterious goon who had followed them halfway around Europe. Anna smiled privately at the irony of it, then sighed. She wasn’t even going to begin trying to explain Trench Coat Man to Abs and Phoebs – or to anyone at Hope College, for that matter. The Truman brothers, Mr. Diggs, Nicholas’ rescue...she hadn’t even mentioned any of the whole adventure to her family. What was the point? She had been there herself, and she could hardly believe it. She couldn’t expect anyone else to.

Besides, she didn’t want to belittle it with attempted explanations. She was coming to the realization – shattering for an English major – that too many words can sometimes kill the potency of the subject discussed.

Her eyes moved from the picture to the window, then back again.

I just miss it, you know?

Well, we missed you, Miss Anna, so I’m afraid they’re not getting you back ‘over there’ any time soon. Abs launched herself off the bed and linked arms with Phoebs. C’mon – we get to try out our new rain boots!

Anna looked at the bright, cheery patterns and thought longingly of the unlovely wellies she had borrowed from her homestay mom so many months before, allowing her to go wandering through the charming English countryside, soaking up the inimitable wonder of it all...

Enough of that.

She didn’t want to start bawling outright. Life had to go on.

At least, Mr. Truman had told her so, and she wanted to think he was trustworthy.

Yeah. Let’s go.

~ Chapter 2 ~

Merritt,

By now, I’m guessing you’ve already had your first week of ‘classes,’ as you call them. We, on the other hand, do not return to uni for another week. I imagine there are certain words about American superiority you’d like to eat right about now – but not as much as you’d like to eat some chips with cheese ’n‘ gravy. I wanted to enclose some in this letter, but Dad nixed that idea posthaste. I tried, Merritt. He simply does not understand a student’s need for the kebab van. They are akin to the oases of desert lore, except more reliable. They don’t go about disappearing on a chap just as he comes dashing up to them. At least, except for that one the other day...but, as I’ve always said, Queen’s Lane is a tricksy place.

Dad and I took a mini-break to Wales. Fascinating country: castles, tumultuous history, an ancient language, and...sheep. Scads and scads of them. I believe my favorite bit was Caerphilly Castle – Dad and I picked out rooms for ourselves. Found one for you too. We plan on moving in as soon as they renovate the place, so pack your bags. We are one tussle with the historical society moguls away from accomplishing your dream of living in a castle.

Travelling just isn’t the same without you, Merritt. There is considerably less time spent shopping, for one thing. I had to drag Dad through two castle gift shops and several kitschy tourist booths in Cardiff just to feel like things were being done properly. Oh! I almost forgot. We went down into an old coal mine – wore the helmets with light bulbs and everything. It’s not functioning anymore – they really hate Margaret Thatcher for that. Even now, years later. One thing I will say for the Welsh: they know how to bear a grudge.

I’m just trying to make you feel properly chagrined for missing this weekend. Rain, sheep, irate miners, drafty castles, and a tour bus guide-man who did not draw breath for forty-eight solid hours. Wales is smashing.

I know you want to come back to the Motherland, Merritt – and quite right, too – but remember that you still have a semester to go. You might want to focus on where you are, since you have to be there. After all, it’s not like you’re dead. You’re just in America. Though I could understand the confusion.

’Til next time, Merritt. Chin up.

Cheers,

Eddie

What’re you reading?

Anna looked up, startled by Jenny’s sudden return to the table. She quickly refolded Eddie’s letter and placed it carefully in her purse.

Nothing. From a friend in England.

Jennifer, a pale, thin girl with luminous eyes, whom Anna insisted upon calling Jenny while everyone else opted for the more trendy – but more common – Jen, settled herself in the seat across from Anna.

You had to bring reading material? Am I that boring?

Of course not. I brought it as a means of comforting my desolation if you had to make a trip to the loo and deprive me of your presence for even a moment.

Jenny raised her eyebrows.

The loo?

Sorry. Just slipped out.

You don’t have to apologize, Anna, Jenny said, smiling and shaking her head. Everyone who studies abroad comes back a little different. I was scared to death when Jason was gone for that whole semester last year. Thought he’d meet some exotic Spanish model and forget all about me, or at least come back so changed that we wouldn’t fit together anymore. She looked down at the table and smiled a private smile. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case.

Indeed. The ease with which Anna was slipping back into all her old roles in her American friendships was surprising her. In some ways, it felt like nothing had changed. At least, the dynamic of the relationships she had left behind was more or less intact in most cases.

Is this more of a comforting or a stifling revelation?

That was a question best contemplated while lying awake tonight; she hadn’t been sleeping well since she got back. Returning her full attention to the situation at hand, she summoned an inquiring smile.

So, how is Jason?

Well, that’s partly why I wanted to have this welcome-back dinner with you, Jenny said slyly. She lifted her left hand from its hiding place under the table, revealing a rock of no mean size displayed prominently – yet tastefully, Anna noticed with relief – on the ring finger.

Anna squealed. When did this happen?

Over Christmas!

You’re engaged!

I know!

Congratulations!

Thank you!

Their orders had been taken and their meal had arrived before the gushing showed any sign of easing. Anna participated obligingly – and genuinely, she assured herself. It was natural to be truly happy for Jenny and Jason; Anna had been what she liked to describe as a helpfully active bystander in their relationship from the beginning. She had served as a dry shoulder during the squalls and a co-gusher in the joys; and, being friends with both of them, she felt she could afford to take some credit for their current happiness.

So, when’s the wedding? she asked, trying to decide whether she wanted to eat her personal pesto pizza – the mere alliteration of which made it fun to order – using her hands or submit to utensils.

Right after graduation, Jenny sighed, pouring a small dose of vinaigrette dressing over her spinach salad. Anna had forgotten why she didn’t like to eat out with Jenny: she was one of those girls who made you wonder if she was a size two because she ate like a bird or ate like a bird because she was a size two. Simply being in her presence made one feel like a giant; consuming anything other than fruits and vegetables around her relegated one to the status of a curly-tailed farm animal, at least in one’s own eyes. Anna knew Jenny would eventually push away her plate with at least a fourth of the salad still on it, complaining about being full.

It truly isn’t fair, Anna thought as she decided that hands still made the best utensils and proceeded to dig in, licking gooey cheese off her fingers after the first delectable bite. But, she consoled herself, there are guys out there who prefer a girl who will really eat with them.

She thought of Nicholas and Eddie. The three of them had bonded through trips to the kebab van after eating full – but less than satisfactory – meals in the dining commons. As Eddie had said...

Enough, Anna.

Back to reality.

How soon is ‘right after’? she asked, switching back into gush-mode with, again, surprising ease. Are you just going to wear your wedding dress under your cap and gown and get right to it as long as everyone’s still there?

Jenny laughed. Anna—

Because that could be easier, you know, in the long run, than having to plan a whole other ceremony and getting everyone back in the same place—

Well, as much as I love efficiency, I think I’m going to say no to that idea – though I’m proud of you for being so practical.

For once.

I wasn’t going to say—

Hey, I’m the first to admit that common sense is not my strongest point, Anna said, tearing off another piece of pizza. That’s why I have you.

That’s right.

But seriously, how soon after graduation?

Jenny concentrated on cutting a grape tomato in half. Two weeks.