Chapter XII
Things hadn’t been quite right between Jamie and Helen since after they went through Clarence’s package. Jamie couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it was like they were being awkward with each other. Formal. When they met at the library, they didn’t crowd into the same carrel, they worked quietly at a table. He didn’t know how to ask her what was up, and she hadn’t brought up anything to him. So he kept running over in his mind everything they said and did when they created the time line. He was drawing a blank. This week was particularly miserable. While Helen was off meeting with her fellow Mathletes discussing strategy for an upcoming regional math competition, Jamie was stuck trying to cobble something together for his journalism assignment - which was now approaching the deadline of the extension.
Jamie had a meeting with Ms. Kincaid after last period. He had everything they’d gathered - from Paul’s initial response to their query, the newspaper clippings of the discovery of the soviet sub, articles about the Chilean earthquake. He had, not only the really cool stuff that Clarence had sent them, he had a book by George Dyson, son of one of the early project scientists Freeman Dyson, called Project Orion: The True Story of the Atomic Space Ship. He hadn’t been able to read the book, it was quite dense. But it had some pictures of team members, and other versions of the mock-up photos Clarence had sent, and some interesting facts about Ted Taylor.
He entered Ms. Kincaid classroom through the back door and waited while she finished up a conversation with Mr. B, the AP lit teacher. Mr. B nodded to him on his way out. Ms. Kincaid motioned him forward. Half of the classroom was taken up by large tables where the students could lay out their copy, and get everything in order. Jamie set his backpack down on an empty table.
“Ms. Kincaid, I think I’m. Ahem, I am I um” he started to stammer. His parents always encouraged him to step up and own up. He and Helen had put in so much work and yet he had so little to show for their efforts. He didn’t want another extension. Truth be told he wanted to get the Journalism Assignment turned in so he could turn all his attention to actually cracking the mystery of his uncle.
“Let’s see what you’ve got.” Ms. Kincaid said.
Jamie started laying out everything, telling the whole story, or the entirety of the story as he knew it.
“I just don’t know where to go from here. I’m stuck, and all we have are more questions:
Where are my uncle’s remains?; What happened to the plans they recovered? Closer to home - why did my grandfather not even acknowledge his brother? Did the government, or whomever, notify him when they found his brother’s body? And then there’s How did my uncle end up on that sub? Are they sure it was my uncle? Ms. Kincaid, all I’ve got is questions, and no answers and no direction. I’m at an impasse. I even started researching my original DNA tests and privacy to see if I could make that work. It’s not working.”
He didn’t realize just how overwhelmed he’d felt until all the words cam tumbling out.
“First of all, I’m really impressed. This is a lot of materials. But you’re right, this amount of material is too much for the assignment. So let’s take a step back and see if there’s a smaller portion that you could fit into an investigative report.”
The teacher sorted through some of the findings, looked at the time line. Pulled in the articles about the Chilean earthquake and the discovery of the submarine.
“How about this answer these questions, and provide your sources 1. Could a soviet submarine make it to the waters off of San Diego? 2. Could the Chilean earthquake trapped the soviet sub? 3. Could the Easter Sunday 2010 earthquake uncover the sub? I can put you in touch with a friend at at the Seismological Laboratory at Caltech. But I want you to come up with a list of questions, run them past me, and then we’ll set up an interview with Dr. Stuart. Then come up with the questions you’d like to ask a naval commander about the discovery. Run those past me. Do these and I think we’ll be able to pass you on the assignment.”
The relief Jamie felt was only diminished by the fact that he wasn’t sure when he’d be able to share his good fortune with Helen.
“But Jamie, I want you to see this other project through. I want to know what happened to your uncle. I want to know more about this nuclear powered spaceship. I’m interested. And I’m happy to help.”
Jamie wandered if Helen was still interested. They made such a good team, or so he thought, had he done something to push her away? Another question he needed to answer.
Chapter XIII
Tuesday morning and George was still fuming. Feeling angry and sad and betrayed. How could Clare have kept those letters. And now all of this with his grandson. Clare thought he should give Jamie the letters for his research. Oh, that woman. After 45 years, no one could infuriate him faster, or more thoroughly than *that* woman.
He hurrumphed into the kitchen where Clare was making breakfast. He almost turned around and went back to the bedroom, until he noticed she was going to the trouble of making oven pancakes. She had coffee already poured but still steaming. Darned woman must have poured the coffee as soon as she heard the floor boards squeak. He wasn’t done being mad. He had a habit of holding onto his anger, even if it divided the house. Clare, on the other hand got over her mad and moved on.
“OK Mr. Grumpypants” Clare said as she set his coffee at the breakfast table. “Let’s talk this out.”
Clare did not appreciate it when they were on opposite sides of an argument. They could hold opposite opinions - that kept things interesting after 45 years, but opposite sides of a fight, with mean and mad between them, that had to end.
“What harm could come from Jamie reading your brother’s letters?”
“I don’t know what’s in them, so I can’t tell you that”
“Do you want to read them first”
“I most certainly do not!”
“Well if Jamie read them he could tell you…”
George cut her off: “No, If I wanted to know what was in the letters I’d read them. I don’t want to know. As far as I’m concerned, my brother died in 1958, when he dropped me at the train station to come back here. Oh I wish I’d never taken that trip with him.”
“Let me see if I understand. You don’t want to read the letters because it will bring your brother back to life in your mind. You’ve kept him buried for over 50 years, and this, what could this actually do? Make you think worse of your brother? Is that even possible? Could it make you think better of your brother? That would make it had to let go of the last 50 years of resentment, and betrayal.”
“God save me from a logical woman!” George grumbled as he took a sip of coffee.
— Lkai
Things hadn’t been quite right between Jamie and Helen since after they went through Clarence’s package. Jamie couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it was like they were being awkward with each other. Formal. When they met at the library, they didn’t crowd into the same carrel, they worked quietly at a table. He didn’t know how to ask her what was up, and she hadn’t brought up anything to him. So he kept running over in his mind everything they said and did when they created the time line. He was drawing a blank. This week was particularly miserable. While Helen was off meeting with her fellow Mathletes discussing strategy for an upcoming regional math competition, Jamie was stuck trying to cobble something together for his journalism assignment - which was now approaching the deadline of the extension.
Jamie had a meeting with Ms. Kincaid after last period. He had everything they’d gathered - from Paul’s initial response to their query, the newspaper clippings of the discovery of the soviet sub, articles about the Chilean earthquake. He had, not only the really cool stuff that Clarence had sent them, he had a book by George Dyson, son of one of the early project scientists Freeman Dyson, called Project Orion: The True Story of the Atomic Space Ship. He hadn’t been able to read the book, it was quite dense. But it had some pictures of team members, and other versions of the mock-up photos Clarence had sent, and some interesting facts about Ted Taylor.
He entered Ms. Kincaid classroom through the back door and waited while she finished up a conversation with Mr. B, the AP lit teacher. Mr. B nodded to him on his way out. Ms. Kincaid motioned him forward. Half of the classroom was taken up by large tables where the students could lay out their copy, and get everything in order. Jamie set his backpack down on an empty table.
“Ms. Kincaid, I think I’m. Ahem, I am I um” he started to stammer. His parents always encouraged him to step up and own up. He and Helen had put in so much work and yet he had so little to show for their efforts. He didn’t want another extension. Truth be told he wanted to get the Journalism Assignment turned in so he could turn all his attention to actually cracking the mystery of his uncle.
“Let’s see what you’ve got.” Ms. Kincaid said.
Jamie started laying out everything, telling the whole story, or the entirety of the story as he knew it.
“I just don’t know where to go from here. I’m stuck, and all we have are more questions:
Where are my uncle’s remains?; What happened to the plans they recovered? Closer to home - why did my grandfather not even acknowledge his brother? Did the government, or whomever, notify him when they found his brother’s body? And then there’s How did my uncle end up on that sub? Are they sure it was my uncle? Ms. Kincaid, all I’ve got is questions, and no answers and no direction. I’m at an impasse. I even started researching my original DNA tests and privacy to see if I could make that work. It’s not working.”
He didn’t realize just how overwhelmed he’d felt until all the words cam tumbling out.
“First of all, I’m really impressed. This is a lot of materials. But you’re right, this amount of material is too much for the assignment. So let’s take a step back and see if there’s a smaller portion that you could fit into an investigative report.”
The teacher sorted through some of the findings, looked at the time line. Pulled in the articles about the Chilean earthquake and the discovery of the submarine.
“How about this answer these questions, and provide your sources 1. Could a soviet submarine make it to the waters off of San Diego? 2. Could the Chilean earthquake trapped the soviet sub? 3. Could the Easter Sunday 2010 earthquake uncover the sub? I can put you in touch with a friend at at the Seismological Laboratory at Caltech. But I want you to come up with a list of questions, run them past me, and then we’ll set up an interview with Dr. Stuart. Then come up with the questions you’d like to ask a naval commander about the discovery. Run those past me. Do these and I think we’ll be able to pass you on the assignment.”
The relief Jamie felt was only diminished by the fact that he wasn’t sure when he’d be able to share his good fortune with Helen.
“But Jamie, I want you to see this other project through. I want to know what happened to your uncle. I want to know more about this nuclear powered spaceship. I’m interested. And I’m happy to help.”
Jamie wandered if Helen was still interested. They made such a good team, or so he thought, had he done something to push her away? Another question he needed to answer.
Chapter XIII
Tuesday morning and George was still fuming. Feeling angry and sad and betrayed. How could Clare have kept those letters. And now all of this with his grandson. Clare thought he should give Jamie the letters for his research. Oh, that woman. After 45 years, no one could infuriate him faster, or more thoroughly than *that* woman.
He hurrumphed into the kitchen where Clare was making breakfast. He almost turned around and went back to the bedroom, until he noticed she was going to the trouble of making oven pancakes. She had coffee already poured but still steaming. Darned woman must have poured the coffee as soon as she heard the floor boards squeak. He wasn’t done being mad. He had a habit of holding onto his anger, even if it divided the house. Clare, on the other hand got over her mad and moved on.
“OK Mr. Grumpypants” Clare said as she set his coffee at the breakfast table. “Let’s talk this out.”
Clare did not appreciate it when they were on opposite sides of an argument. They could hold opposite opinions - that kept things interesting after 45 years, but opposite sides of a fight, with mean and mad between them, that had to end.
“What harm could come from Jamie reading your brother’s letters?”
“I don’t know what’s in them, so I can’t tell you that”
“Do you want to read them first”
“I most certainly do not!”
“Well if Jamie read them he could tell you…”
George cut her off: “No, If I wanted to know what was in the letters I’d read them. I don’t want to know. As far as I’m concerned, my brother died in 1958, when he dropped me at the train station to come back here. Oh I wish I’d never taken that trip with him.”
“Let me see if I understand. You don’t want to read the letters because it will bring your brother back to life in your mind. You’ve kept him buried for over 50 years, and this, what could this actually do? Make you think worse of your brother? Is that even possible? Could it make you think better of your brother? That would make it had to let go of the last 50 years of resentment, and betrayal.”
“God save me from a logical woman!” George grumbled as he took a sip of coffee.
— Lkai
Perfect chapters in this story. And the Helen - Jamie awkwardness is so well described and will resonate with anyone who a high school crush whose foundation was respect and friendship. I absolutely love this: “God save me from a logical woman!” George grumbled as he took a sip of coffee.
ReplyDeleteOh. And I really like the teacher and her role.
ReplyDelete