| The newly cleaned and polished truck moseyed down the old, paved road. Its candy-apple red finish shined in the sunlight while the new black tires were ingratiated to the dusty crevices and cracks of the road. Two little phins shook and released their tears, despite the promise of a scoop of their favorite ice cream at the local mom-and-pop store. The little Dusky Dolphins could barely hold it in. Jerome, for all his efforts, had little success.
“Thaddeus, I am sorry ya’ had to go through all that; trust me, it won’t happen again, promise. All those feral dogs aren’t going to hurt…” the hybrid dolphin reassured from the driver side.
The little phin, overall coated with the red clay of the Mississippi earth, sobbed even harder as he grabbed hold of his equally upset friend. Jerome looked up. Thaddeus, a phin in local foster care and his little cousin Nate’s best friend, could not control himself. Some feral dogs went wild and got loose near his uncle’s soup plantation…
Nate just shook with fright; his dark skin almost turned a paler hue. As the car slid into the parking lot, a jolly, motherly gazelle waved from the store’s front steps. The cops had called in ahead. Both little survivors instantly smiled at ‘Ellie,’ the momma of cheerful.
“Now what’s wit all da’ fuss? Ain’t nuttin’ gonna happen to my youngins, and a’ youngins is my youngins, ain’t that right?”
“Yes’m Miss Ellie.”
“What in thunderation is talk like tat?” Ellie fussed in her usual comical fashion that only she was known for.
Thaddeus just hung his head unwilling to take a look at anyone. Nate, his mouthpiece, did what he did best – talk. “Miss Ellie, ma’am, we was pullin’ veggies’ like my Uncle Lowell told us to, and de’m ugly, bad mutts just scare us to pieces. Lowell got da’ gun…”
“WHAT?” the store owner snapped, “Good Lord of Hosts, sorry Father.” The gazelle looked up momentarily. “For goodness sakes, no wonder the police were called. Well, only one right proper thing to do…sundaes for you two! Now, c’mon.”
The two did not have to be told twice, speeding up the steps at breakneck speed; Miss Ellie’s homemade ice cream was some the best in the state, and every local knew it, even phins at the age of five. She would have to clean the seats when they left, but that was of little consequence. Half the area had heard by now that the feral dogs that were roaming around attacking pets and farm animals had been shot, with nary a complaint on people’s lips. People would hail Jerome’s uncle, Lowell, a hero.
“Oh, Jerome-baby,” the gazelle paused, “your ma called, she needs you to come right home after the boys stuff their beaks. Something about, ‘he’s on his way,’ or something thereabouts…”
“He is not supposed to be here until the 22nd.”
“Child, that’s today since the sun done rose up that way,” Ellie noted wisely while pointing in the wrong direction, as usual, “I do hope that ya’ get yourself ready n’ all….Ya’ll done picked ‘em flavors yet?”
Jerome Swimmer dropped his hand over his beak; in all the housework and repairs, he must have lost track of the time. He could just kick himself. Church was on Sunday, and then would have to leave by Tuesday for the coast. The hybrid phin looked up and rolled his eyes, completely oblivious to the happy laughter of two new heroes enjoying their victory. It was unreal. In a few hours, twenty-two years of waiting would come to an end. Jerome Nicholas Barnabas Swimmer grew still as a statue.
“Where have ya’ been, boy?” the middle aged phin called from the bowels of the house.
Jerome shrugged his shoulders, but was not slow in answering “Had to drop Nate back at Luke’s place and then I had to take Thaddeus…”
“Never you mind, boy. Get washed, company is a comin’. Now, get ‘em flippers in the tub, or mama gonna whup ya ‘til ya tail falls clean off.”
“Yes, pa.” Jerome sped down the hall lickety-split. Lowen lowered his gaze, looking up only for a second or two. Never had he wanted to avoid someone as badly as Cristobal Kyriakou; his wife loved them both, father and husband, yet that aging hourglass dolphin was demanding, and that was when he was agreeable. Something wanted to burn deep inside, but Lowen just couldn’t. ‘If one explosion happens,’ the dusky dolphin reminded himself, but he figured somehow nothing was going to happen. Lowen shuffled to the master bedroom; he too had to look his best.
The Swimmer males fidgeted on the new living room couch. Lowen and Kyrenia saved up a long time to bring the house to a more lively state, but still the old furniture had witnessed so many laughs and tears. Kyrenia, or mama to the boys, set the table while the duo shook in their seats, albeit for very different reasons.
The backdoor swung open as voices suddenly flooded the whole house. Gamama’s laughter filled the kitchen offsetting Kyrenia’s obvious displeasure. Her family was coming and the Swimmer clan, being Swimmers to the core, were not going to miss one bit of it.
“Luke, ‘et out.”
“Lowell, I almost think she means it.”
“Cristo...”
“Honey child, they’s comin’ to help.”
“But Gamama, this is a pe’sonal matter.”
“LOWEN! Get them out of here!”
The middle-aged dolphin knew not to be slow when she hit that one particular octave. Jerome swallowed hard. His tail seemed glued to the new reclining sofa. The hybrid dolphin just listened in, someone had to be there.
“I don’t care if they brought all this good food, I need to see father alone….Lowen!”
The garbled voices clamored and clashed out of sight, growing calmer as the minutes passed. Little Nate popped his head around the corner with a large small on his face. Jerome grinned weakly. He had never been such an emotional wreck in his life. Nate's eyes locked on the red book in his older cousin’s hand.
“What with the weird symbols?”
“It is the New Testament in Greek.”
“Why?”
“My grandpa is coming and he is a very proper, religious phin and I….”
“Can you read me somethin’?”
“Sure, I’ll give it a go,” Jerome replied, calming down for once, “Here we go. This one will be familiar. Ahem, En arche eyn ha logos kai ha logos eyn pros tawn theon, kai Theos eyn ha logos. Outos eyn en arche pros tawn theon. “
Nate looked on with large eyes. Jerome was unsure of his himself until his mother called from the other room, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and God was the Word. He was in the beginning with God.” Everyone stood silent for several moments as mother and son went back and forth, him reading and her translating. Nate just stared wide-eyed.
Clap! Clap! Clap!
Several pairs of loud hands came in together in a discordant cadence. Several hourglass dolphins stood on the porch just beyond the open doorway. Their plain, yet finely made suits meant only one thing. Kyrenia came around the corner only to stop right in her tracks. The hourglass dolphins tensed up, four total, with the oldest one walking ever so slowly forward.
His hazel eyes seemed unreadable. Kyrenia matched his gaze with equal focus. The odd duo drew closer like magnets. Their embrace silently imploded as every phin came from down the hall, every phin. Kyrenia could not stop crying into her father’s chest, neither of the two aware of anyone else.
Lowen looked down, sweeping his left foot from side to side.
“Shush, my daughter,” his deep voice resonated through the room, “I should’ve come back sooner. Forgive an old phin for his foolish pride.”
His pronunciation was flawless. Jerome froze like a statue, studying the older phin. His grandpa was taller than pa, but not taller than him. His face seemed smoothed for the most part except for his age starting to show on the show along the sides. His skin lacked the deep slick hue that younger hourglass dolphins are known for. Broad chest, straight form, Cristobal Kyriakou was a phin of dignity.
“Jerome,” his pa spoke softly, “where are your manners? Let them in, son.” Every eye immediately fixed on the living bridge between the two very different families. Cristobal’s eyes measured him up and down, his skin pattern, not too different from that of an orca, seem to exude strength. Jerome fumbled for a second, laying his book next to his seat, unsure of what to do.
“Son,” Kyrenia called softly, “Don’t be ‘ude. This is your grandfather, Cristobal. Shake his hand.”
Jerome shuffled his feet, as if fighting some lead weights, coming ever so closer. The well-dressed dolphin extended his hand, but the young phin ached for so much more. Lowen and Kyrenia’s son wrapped his arms around his grandfather, shaking uncontrollably.
“Yes, grandson,” was all that needed to be said. Jerome’s tears mingled with gut-wrenching sobs; twenty-two years completely poured out. The taunts, ridicule, the bullying, all the pain flowed. Cristobal, ever ready, just squeezed with him all that he had. No one else moved, until Nate, in the wisdom of a child, walked up and wrapped his small arms around one of Jerome’s legs.
One by one, everyone present huddled around the bridge, his tears infectious...Several minutes passed, nothing else mattered. Jerome could not stop, and no one was stopping him. Light poured through the open doorway shining brighter with each moment. Touching his melon, the warmth glided across Jerome’s body finally bringing a solemn quiet to the room. Gradually every phin pulled away.
The child of two cultures regained his composure. Little Nate still held on to his leg while he looked up with a smile. “It okay, all the family is here. You never cry alone.” Several chuckles rippled through the group. Cristobal closed his eyes and nodded affirmative. Children often possessed a pure approach to love, Nate was no exception.
Jerome swallowed hard. He stretched out his hand just like his ma told him too. Cristobal game him a hearty handshake in return. There was no small amount strength in the young phin. “A son like you is a credit any family. Oh, forgive me; these three are Kyrenia’s brothers. First, to my right is my oldest, Nicholas. Next to him, is my second oldest, Barnabas – his son is now a priest in the church.”
The comment did not mean much to the Swimmers, being old school Pentecostals, but they smiled and nodded nonetheless.
“And to my left, is Kyrenia’s younger brother, Petros.”
Jerome did a double-take to his parents pointing to the guests with his right thumb. “I thought I was named after the saints.”
Kyrenia simply rolled her eyes. “Did I miss something?” her father queried in return.
“Jerome,” his mother stated as-a-matter-of-factly, “They are, and so are you. They are common names on Cyprus….His name is Jerome Nicholas Barnabas Swimmer, father. Sorry, Petros, Lowen said his name was long enough, and unfortunately the priest agreed.”
“The priest?” Several Swimmers chimed in.
Kyrenia looked around instantly frustrated. One quick glance stopped every question in its tracks. Her scowled darkened. “While still on Malta, we took weekend leave to…”
"Baptize your son in Thessalonica at the Great Greek Orthodox Church. Archpriest Paul Philippi performed the ceremony…he is a friend of mine, & now a bishop.” It was Kyrenia’s turn. “You were…there?” she fumbled, her bottom jaw quivering.
“All of us were there, on the far side of the sanctuary,” Cristobal replied followed by three silent nods behind him.
“What?!” several voices blurted loudly.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Gamama stomped the bottom of her cane on the floor. She faced all with her cold hard stare, “It has been done. The boy is baptized twice, it ain’t done him no harm. The way some of you act, you need to be baptized three times a year!...Hush, Luke, just hush. Nate better not pick up your bad habits – don’t you act like I don’t know…I’m old, not dead. Now ya’ll get back to settin’ the table. The one ain’t proper respectin’ the Lord at His table will just do without. Hear me?”
Cristobal had just witnessed the resolute spirit of on the Swimmer clan’s matriarchs. They held the family together, and the Cypriot knew it.
“Come,” Gamama spoke with a new found smile, “two families are coming together under one roof. We have some words to speak.”
Jerome woke up early before the sunrise. Everyone had stayed up late telling stories around the supper table, Jerome being the topic of most of them. He silently escaped outside to the front porch leaving everyone asleep as usual. He greeted the rising sun as he did every morning. He never forgot the promise he made. A cough brought him back, his grandfather, in a simple undershirt and black pants was holding his little red book.“Every day?”
Jerome nodded.
“You may not believe me, but ever since you were born, I have done the exact same thing every morning, just praying for the chance…” he started, but trailed off.
They faced the sunrise together, hands clasped tightly together, raised high, and hands bowed. It had been so long in coming, and now it was here. Jerome had his grandfather…Ma, why don’t grandpa come visit? Kyrenia was would clench her mouth shut while tears poured out of the corner in her eyes. Why, mama?
The sun’s rays greeted their smiles. The odd duo stood miles away from anything and everyone else, yet right where they were supposed to be. The draft was mere days away, but this moment was something that could not be replaced. It was not true that the past did not matter, it most certainly did. Yet, it seemed finally in its right place, closed but forever a foundation. Cristobal stated sobbing.
“Please…forgive, forgive…forgi…”the old phin muttered sadly, unable to finish. Not a moment passed before Joden wrapped his arms around him once again. “I forgive.”
“Why? Why do you forgive?....I did it to you.. and you weren’t even born!...” His tears, pure crystals, little prisms filtering the sun’s rays, poured all the harder.
“I would rather forgive my grandfather then go to the grave resenting a mysterious stranger. You did wrong, but then again, nobody’s perfect. I get to have my grandfather back.”
“A prodigal grandfather for a grandson?”
“And they both came home to open arms.”
The two basked in the warm glow of the dawn. Across generations, across worlds, they were family, forever and always.
“Grandson, there is still one more person I must…” the hourglass dolphin started, but suddenly halted.
“Jerome, your grandpa and I need to have some words. Go start getting the table ready.”
The young phin closed his eyes and nodded, stopping only momentarily to take another look over his shoulders before heading inside. The two faced each other, both wearing undershirts, loose-hanging suspenders, and black pants. They stood looking out over the porch rail, watching the sunrise. Several moments went by with nothing more than measured breathing. Lowen finally looked down.
“It is great ya’ll come for my boy, Jerome…”
“But you wish me gone….”
Lowen just shook his head slowly, “Nope, I wants ya’ll here. I reckon I’ve punished my family as much as ya have. Jerome asked for you for a long time, never stopped even when I said ‘no.’” The old phin looked away determined to avoid his venomous gaze. His glance betrayed him; Lowen’s eyes were tired. There was no fight left within, just a willingness to talk.
“I just got me a promotion. Peh, with a raise that’s worth cot-spit! That boy of mine done earned himself a real future, but he ain’t ever going to forget, though sometimes I suppose I wish he would. It not right for him here, and I want better for your daughter, I really do. I suppose a man fights to keep his pride only to realize it do him no good. The Lord don’t like pride, cause, excuse my sayin, but it turns the proud one into a jackass.”
Cristobal Kyriakou, despite his remote residence, was a phin of upbringing and culture, but he heard himself speaking.
“I suppose we were determined to spite the other, only to spite ourselves.”
Lowen still gazed at the sunrise, but he heard him. “I reckon so.”
“There is something you need to know, something that I don’t want to tell Kyrenia, but I must…” the more elderly of the two paused, sensing his son-in-law’s concern, “It is not me, it was Petros, or as you say, Peter. Petros, has children, too. His oldest one is at the local university, but his youngest…The child died shortly after birth some years ago….I DON’T WANT TO LOSE ANOTHER!”
“You ain’t losing him, he’s right found and the Good Lord directs his steps. Tain’t a good feeling losing someone, but Jerome Nicholas Barnabas Swimmer is ours, and ours for keeps.”
Jerome poked his head around the screen door, fearing the worse. His pa simply waved him forward. Three generations peered across the world around them; three phins, very different, yet so much alike. The sun’s rays caressed their faces. Moments passed in silence, but all was said.
“Where are you?....Come inside ya three lumps on a log, “ Gamama snipped playfully from inside, “the grits ain’t good cold. We’s got plenty to do before church tomorrow. No come inside.”
The three shuffled inside, each imitating the other.
Sunday. A day of reverence, and also the most forbidden of topics in discussion, religion. Jerome never thought he would feel the way he did – exasperated. Nicholas and Barnabas came near to blows against the kings of stubborn, Luke and Lowell. The service went by smoothly, but one question led to another, until Jerome was the referee to Slam-mania 2014.
“SHUT UP RIGHT THIS INSTANT! NOBODY IS LISTENING, YA’LL FLIPPER FOR BRAINS”
Luke gasped, suddenly wounded, “Flipper for brains, ya’ll never spoke like that to me before.”
Stomp! Stomp! Stomp! Slam! Jerome did not say a word. He just marched off, slamming the door to his bedroom behind him.
Smack! Smack! “Nicholas, Barnabas…” Following a blow to their melons, their father ranted on in words that were completely new to the Swimmers, yet understood so well. Gamama just shook her head in disappointment.
“Luke, Lowen, I ain’t seen a need for a whoopin’ so bad in ages. I raised your father right, and he raised you two heathens just as well. Jerome has been enjoying himself until you two choose to play stupid when asked right honest and proper questions. Rev. Dr. Silas is goin to hear of this. I wash my hands of the both of you, get out!”
“What?!”
“Jerome needs love, and for you four to get along. He forgave, his ma and pa forgave, so what is your sorry excuse? Luke, I love you boy, but you frustrate the tar out of everyone in the family. Stop acting rotten, and do something right with your ways,” Gamama finished, supported by his brother Lowen’s nod.
Both Cristobal and the matriarch pointed down the hall. Their shuffle took them what seemed an eternity. As the door creaked open, four pairs of eyes a quiet body staring out the far window. They huddled around the doorway, yet their nephew did not stir. He never thought that the ugliest words would come out of anyone except his pa and grandpa. How wrong he was.
Jerome had far more patience than most, but still even he could not handle it anymore. Resenting his family making peace…well that certainly is what family there for, well, that was too far. It was not there decision, it was his and he made it.
“Boy, look here,” Lowell started, “You’re a part of this family, and people argue; you can’t stop people from arguing. It happens. You forgive and act like it didn’t happen…”
Jerome did not stir, even at the sound of a cane across Lowell’s backside.
“I ain’t ever going to hear that again, now am I?” the old voice snapped, “He deserves an apology and you ya’ll going to beat him further? Now ya’ll act proper, or so help me, I am going to be whippin’ with my cane.”
“He taken these two with him and not us…” the voice retorted, but stopped immediately.
“That is his decision. Second, these two here are paying their own way., and why would I let you go to Las Vegas? You would do just as bad as at Mardi Gras….Don’t you give me that look ever again, hear me boy?”
Smack!
<What was that for?> Barnabas yelped.
<The smirk is earned; you have no right to it. Do you want to fly back home alone?>
The duo looked at each other for a moment. He knew that his father meant it. The disgrace would be unbearable. His aunts still living would lecture him every night at dinner for a month, and give him a look forever. Jerome had prevailed in all that he had done, and had been a standard for all the other grandkids, whether he knew it or not, something he truly resented. Yet, his father knew that too.
<Kyrenia denounced the family, yet you greet this hybrid like treasure.>
Crstiobal glared at this son, breathing heavily to the point of almost heaving. Wrapping his hand around his son’s beak, he pulled the younger phin forward.
Jerome looked over his shoulder
“Thank you, you both shown me your meanin’. One well received, and the other, heartache. I suppose I should be grateful for the truth…”
Barnabas looked down, breathed once or twice, before speaking, <If you can understand me, know that I say a great deal of things out of anger that I do not mean. Kyrenia has been sending letters to Aunt Maria since you were born. Every one of your cousins…hung…on her every word; you were the banner of excellence. The American did well, so they would do too. Your cousin’s becoming a priest was all because of your avid church attendance. My own children wanted to be like you more than they did me. It is not your fault, you never knew until now. I guess I will go home alone then.>
<No,> Jerome answered quickly, <My uncle and a namesake is joining me in Las Vegas.>
All four realized, Jerome forgave, even when it hurt, and that was typical Jerome, but still, Gamama and Cristobal scowled. “You four aren’t off the hook, not by any means…”
Laughter came from the front door, a mob of people loaded with food, ready to celebrate. Even just as surprising, another group, though smaller, was coming through the kitchen. Then silence. Gamama hobbled down the hall not at all liking the lack of sound. Several minutes of mumbled voices went back and forth, until there was laughter once again, mostly by embarrassment.
“Well, land sakes,” the old matronly phin, “Now, I know the Good Lord has a sense of humor! You six in the back, get on out here right proper and quick. That means, you JB!”
To Jerome’s surprise, his mother’s priest and his pastor, Rev. Dr. Silas, were laughing and talking like friends.
“Ah, Jerome come here,” the laidback bull called while pointing to the leopard cleric, “Bartholomew and I have been teaching the Greek class together as his church for the last nine years, and low and behold, we’re both holding parties for different people in the same place!”
“Jerome, baby,” his mother called, “I wanted to surprise your grandfather with some help from my local church; your friends wanted to send you off before you go. So get some chairs from the backroom.”
“Ah, ah, ah,” the matriarch corrected, “You four brats ain’t gettin’ a thing until ya’ll talk to these two in private. I am not satisfied with your bad behavior.”
Two focused stares glared back at the four. Bartholomew led the four back down the now quiet hallway with the stern taur taking up the rear.
“Leave ‘em be,” Gamama noted, “This sort of thing is going to be nipped in the bud, and for good. Now what smells so divine?”
The five fins shuffled down the aisle. Business class looked so inviting, but of course, it was not for them, only economy plus on Unlimited Airlines. In several hours, the five phins would arrive at LAX, and spend at day or two relaxing before going to Las Vegas. The party Sunday evening went by smoothly, and since then, all four uncles behaved themselves. Jerome would have loved to be a fly on the wall listening to that conversation.
Seated in the center section of the large plane, the five phins were an odd sight, with the smallish orca-looking one in the center. The FBA 2014 Draft was coming, but now Jerome finally felt complete. His family on either side of him, the phin relaxed as the plane ascended upward. Cristobal looked the Avian Mall catalog, momentarily glancing at his grandson, who was already fast asleep, smiling.
Characters belong to gideonwebb
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