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LIGHT OF THE ATMA – THE SPARK WITHIN
en years had elapsed in this fashion and Michael had spent most of that time in foreign lands employing his alluring charms. There was little doubt that his dynamic statesman like qualities were known far and wide; for his precious gifts always preceded him wherever he went; and generously give he would, in some cases extravagantly so; for often, the greater the gift he bestowed, the sweeter his piece of the pie in return. But sad it was – of all who knew him, and of all whom he knew, he did not even know his own wife and son, much less himself.
on Voyage
The year was 1895. The snow had disappeared from the Great Lakes and they were once again navigable. After being home for two years, the drudgery of business and the desire to leave rose within Michael once again.
Michael was well aware of Margaret’s discontented mind. The parties he threw, the endless business meetings he held, his aloofness and sometimes his harsh and uncaring nature, all caused her to experience unnecessary anxiety and upset. He really wanted to make it up to her, while making things better for himself at the same time
“Margaret,” he said, “come with me this time. Let’s put this place behind us for a while and go where the world isn’t. Then I’ll show you the great parts of Europe.”
In one of her forgiving moods she expressed, “Oh Michael, you’ve provided me with a beautiful mansion; you’ve allowed me to make it into a home, and you have given Peter and me the best of everything…”
“Perhaps so,” he replied, “but the world is a beautiful place to see, and I want to share it with you. After all, if I can’t do that, from where will my happiness come? Am I no more than a plain man who can only put food on the table, a roof over your head and clothes on your back?”
She responded, “As much as I hate to see you go Michael, I strangely understand your need. You do not have to justify your absences from me,” she excused. “I married you knowing what your career was; and although it has been lonely and unhappy for me at times being away from you, your letters gave me comfort.”
“It’s not like that this time,” he replied. “I want you and Peter to be with me. I’ve missed so many years with my son. These last couple of years, I’ve been so busy, I feel as though I have a lot to make up for, including making up for the wrong I’ve done to you.”
“My mind is made up. I have to shake this place from me, and I don’t want to go without you and Peter.” Margaret sat there looking at him, her thoughts going deeper into the situation trying to understand it.
The next day, Michael heavily indebted his wife with obligation to accompany him until guilt finally made her consent; but he remembered that Peter was involved with the commitments of school politics. He had just been elected class president and new responsibilities and obligations were being pressed upon him from every direction.
When Michael went to see the dean to sign out his son, the dean impressed upon him that to dislodge Peter from his new responsibility would make him think that he could run away from his obligations and responsibilities whenever he wanted to. ”I know I don’t need to remind you Mr. Smith, that manhood means facing disappointments as well as encouragement,” the dean emphasized. “Wasn’t that part of the opening ceremonies speech you yourself gave?”
Michael was obviously in no position to disagree. It was also his own influential powers that secured Peter the status he now had. “To pull your son out of school now would definitely be a terrible mistake. As far as Peter goes, we can board him here while you go on your excursion, and I might add, he’d be the better for it. Women, you know, have a tendency to soften hearts instead of harden them.”
Michael listened as the dean continued his dissertation. “This world is an aggressive battlefield, and here your son is learning the soldiering techniques for the battles he will have to face in life. Here, he will learn how to control the people who will try to do nothing more than take advantage of him. He has to be at his wits, and he must be sharp. And if he cries here, the sissy will be driven out of him!” Michael could not concur more, and agreed to board Peter at the school instead of bring him on the trip.
When Margaret learned of his decision to leave Peter home, she decided not to go, arguing that the original purpose was not being met. “You miss time with me and your son, so how will leaving him behind make up for that?” She had no desire to go in the first place and now she was firmly resolved against it. But Michael would not hear of it! His mind was made up. He inflicted upon her every manly argument he could. It wasn’t as if Margaret didn’t know that Peter had to learn the skills it took to survive in the world. She knew! But not in this cold manner. She dreaded this moment, and never expected that Michael would cause it to come so soon.
Michael’s original regret was completely overridden by his pride and the image of what he wanted his son to become. He drove away at Margaret day and night and tried his worst to make her feel that she was holding Peter back from manhood; not to mention the guilt he imposed upon her for denying him his happiness, the time he deserved to spend with her and show her all he desired. Giving way under his pressure, she relented, but with a heavy heart and only under the condition that Peter would be allowed to live at home under the supervision of a governess to oversee his needs. Michael gave in to those slight terms, but only because no skin was coming off his nose….
Why Michael disagreed with every selection of nannies Margaret chose, was some mystery. But time after time, he found fault with something about each one of them until it frustrated Margaret to tears. “No nanny, no trip,” she rebuffed putting her foot down. Still, she knew he was determined to have everything his way. So she resolved to find somebody that Michael could not disagree with. She sent for the daughter of a long-time neighbor and friend by the name of Allison Hamilton, who still lived with her parents, next door to her Margaret’s parents, Tom and Martha Wellington in Boston.
Allison was close to the end of her seventeenth year and already a full-honors graduate of one of Boston’s most elite private schools. She welcomed the opportunity to act as governess to Peter while Michael and Margaret were away.
Allison had extraordinarily good qualities and was extremely conscientious. She appeared hard-bitten to those who had an eye on the lax and lenient life, especially those who did not respect rules of order. But for those who followed a sound regimen, she appeared as soft and gentle as a petal from the most beautiful flower.
She accepted the job of caring for Peter with a serious-minded attitude. In truth, there was no one more responsible than Allison, for she had a depth of indomitable confidence that was secured from her upbringing. But Michael was cagey. If he could not put the pieces where he wanted them, he would find ways to disrupt the pieces other people put in place.
In silent retaliation, Michael hired a governor by the name of Grover, to an administrative position in a pretense of authority to oversee the entire estate and all its functions, while Charles was the real authority behind the scenes. Grover’s real job was to be a constant source of aggravation to the new governess, and if possible, to run her off, then board Peter in school; going directly against the promise to Margaret.
Grover was a prickly fellow, more petty-minded in most instances than conscientious, and his disposition was as hard-nosed as any small mind would be, following suit with the majority of Peter’s teachers…one more in a long line of narrow-minded authoritarians impacting Peter’s life.
THE LOOK SPELLED – NO!
ith everything settled, the departure day could be scheduled – and so it was. With all the propriety of Boston etiquette, Peter and his governess, Allison accompanied his parents to the docks for a fond farewell.
Allison was not a girl who could be easily fooled. She read the deceptive look in Michael’s eyes very well, and sensed the sadness that was pouring from Margaret’s heart in a quiet weep. She could also tell that Peter’s heart was wrenching in agony. It was clear he wanted to be with his mother and his mother wanted to be with him, but a glance from his father’s stern eye spelled: ‘No!’
Margaret was full of regret and remorse, and her feelings tugged at her to take Peter along at the last minute, but her attempts were quashed by Michael’s staunch objections.
As the clipper sailed out, Margaret’s heart suddenly filled up with terrible desperation. An overpowering surge of agony seized her as she watched her son slip from sight. As tears fell from her eyes, tears also rolled down Peter’s cheeks and dropped from his face.
As brave as Peter was in trying to endure the painful emotions from being separated for the first time from the one true and loving person in his life, he could not control the quiver in his lip. Even still, he courageously smiled and waved good-bye to his mother until she disappeared from view.
Allison and he stood there silently as the ship sailed out of sight. Suddenly, the sorrow he was containing within him broke loose, sending an uncontrollable flow of tears down his face.
Allison took him close and hugged him to comfort him as he cried. She stared off at the empty horizon line and wondered what had gone on to cause this hapless situation.
Margaret, sobbing with grief, ran to her cabin to cry her heart out. But Michael was not a man who allowed emotions to interrupt his fun. The ‘Bon Voyage’ party aboard was a splashing success in spite of Margaret’s emotional condition.
As the carriage that was bringing Allison and Peter back to the mansion rolled down the road, Allison spoke. “Before you know it Peter, your parents will be back. A year is not very long at all.” But Peter felt betrayed and stayed in a mood of despondency. Allison knew that with the proper loving care, he wouldn’t stay in that shell for long.
When they reached the mansion Peter jumped out of the carriage, and as fast as he could go, ran inside and up the stairs into his room crying and yelling at his father all the way: “I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!” He threw himself onto his bed and violently punched his pillow. “I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!” he screamed as he flew into a convulsion of crying. Allison followed him upstairs, stood at his doorway and silently watched on.
Peter stayed in his room the rest of that day and part of the next. That afternoon he finally came down to the dining room where he and Allison sat alone. He took his seat and stared at her distrustfully. “I am not going back to school!” His throat was raw from all the yelling and crying. “My father did all of this just so I would face responsibilities in school he invented for his own pride! We’ll see how he likes it when he returns to learn all of his schemes went nowhere, because I will not go back there!” He glared at her with conviction. “Nothing you can say or do will make me go back!”
“You will not have to,” Allison announced. “I have a document from your mother which makes me your tutor as well as your governess. You will be learning right here at home.”
Peter never expected her to be so agreeable and sincere. “But what about my father’s desires?
Allison shrugged. “Your mother’s wish is that you be taught at home, and those are my orders. Your father gave me none, and said nothing to the contrary.”
“Do you really mean to say, I don’t have to go back to that stupid place?”
“No. Not as I see it,” she reassured.
Peter’s appetite suddenly emerged and he reached for some food. He leaned over the table and whispered to her, “What about the servants?”
“As far as that goes, if you wish, I will see to most of your needs myself; as for your personal needs, I am sure you can handle those on your own?” she elicited.
“No servants?!” he exclaimed with delight.
“None, except for the usual chore-doers,” she explained. “Your mother wants you to have as much independence as necessary, and that means no pushy servants to hover over you.”
Peter’s heart suddenly expanded as though he had been released from the confines of a prison. A big smile came over his face which pleased Allison; she in turn, smiled back.
Allison and Grover, from the very first instance, did not see eye-to-eye on anything. As the months passed, Grover represented himself as a top-notch aggravator and meddler, traits which Allison found particularly revolting, and made her all the more determined to oppose him. He was forced to keep his distance from Peter when she threatened to pop him one if he dared to interfere with her duties and Peter’s freedom any further.
From that day on Grover kept himself out of the same room in which she or Peter was. “Good!” she declared. “That’s just the way I like it. One less pushy man to contend with!”
ONE YEAR HAD PASSED AND…
Michael’s textile business was spinning like a top. One partner, Elmer Crogg, had every little operation in synchronization, ticking like a fine Swiss-crafted clock. He was as suave and crafty in his way, as Michael was in his. He was the picture of congeniality when everything pleased him. “Looks like we get the big boss back tomorrow,” Crogg announced to the employees on the open floor of the factory. “Keep fit – keep productive – and keep in line! That’s what keeps a fine ship in the race.” Every worker forced out an obligatory smile and grumbled under his breath when Crogg went back into his office.
On arrival day, Crogg made all the preparations to welcome Michael home with a gala event that would light up the Chicago night sky; and everyone who was anyone, was invited to the celebration. From early in the day Michael’s and Margaret’s mansion began to swell with people which put Allison at odds. “What does that man think he’s doing?” she complained. “The nerve of him disrupting our peace!”
Peter chuckled at her response. “This is how my father lives. I should have warned you ahead of time.”
Early on, Crogg himself joined the other guests at the mansion. Entering with a theatrical flair and armed with the cuties of the stage on each side, he caused a stir amongst all the men.
When Allison found the chance, she sought him out and pulled him aside. “Have you no consideration? There are people everywhere! There’s no place where Peter and I can go. Even our bedrooms are filled with strangers coming and going!”
Crogg, who seemed half tanked-up on liquor, pretended to beg forgiveness. “I am so-o-o so sorry,” he slobbered with his words dribbling from his mouth, “but I thought you knew,” and he turned to one of the showgirls and winked. “You see,” he whispered to Allison, “this one here is one of Michael’s favorites.”
Allison, repulsed by his ill humor, glared at him with anger and disgust. “Can you at least ask your guests to keep out of our bedrooms, so we can get dressed? We at least, are going to the docks when the ship arrives!”
“Why – certainly,” he replied with an unrestrained belch. Then turning to the group of people around him he announced: “Now hear this everyone! Let’s exercise some…” and he looked at Allison to see what kind of word he should use next. After seeing her stern face he continued “…consideration for the lady, and don’t invade their personal privacy. After all, there’ll be time enough to do that tonight!” and he laughed at his own joke which sent his cohorts into fits of sympathetic laughter just to please him.
In spite of Crogg’s announcement, Allison and Peter still had to force people from their rooms, then bolt the doors for privacy. ‘Those barbarians!’ she thought to herself as the people kept rudely knocking at her door and yelling all sorts of uncalled-for remarks to her from the hall. ‘What sort of place do they think this is? And who do they think they are?!’ Her anger began to brew.
Finally, she and Peter were ready to go to the harbor to welcome Peter’s parents’ home. As they were leaving, they had to push their way down the stairs and out of the mansion; all the while, Allison had to bear some flippant remarks, including a few pinches from some of the more uncouth guests. But her personality was not one to take a disrespectful advance without an accidental reflex elbow or slap back.
Once she was free from the foul group inside, she remarked: “How does your mother put up with all of this?” and she looked back at all of the men standing in the doorway lifting their eyebrows in invitation. Peter laughed just politely enough to ease the tension she was feeling, and helped her into the carriage.
After they were down the road, she spouted off, “Disgusting lot!”
Peter, watching her expressions, commented, “That’s their mild side.”
“Their mild side?! Does your father have no decency?” Suddenly she realized she should have never said that. “Umm, I mean…” she sighed and bent her head, shaking it in regret.
“That’s all right,” he assured. “I know what you mean; I’ve heard Mother speak her mind in words similar to yours.” He let a few moments go by as Allison stared off out the window, and then explained, “Father is a strangely dominating man. He has certain ways about him that motivate people into doing the proper and right things, but then allows this type of behavior… rather encourages it… as with Mr. Crogg back there allowing him and others to carry on in any way he wishes with no consideration for others. Besides, who has the power to tell anyone of them they can’t behave this way? They’re a law unto themselves.”
“No,” Allison contended in a huff. “That behavior Peter is an absence of law… of moral law.”
“Father loves a good time Allison. And Mother, well, she simply retreats or retires to her bed chambers up on the third floor where no one is allowed when she is home. She has had to resort to stationing body guards everywhere when she is there and these parties are going on. Sometimes she goes out to the cottage in the back gardens which is guarded and gated. Absolutely restricted from guests!”
“I can understand her position. No woman likes to be molested,” and she stared off at the scenery all the way to the harbor. The dock was not filled with carriages and people waiting for the ship as she expected. “Is it always this empty when one of your father’s ships comes in?” she asked with perplexity on her face.
“I don’t know,” he answered. “This is the first time I’ve ever come down here to greet him home!”
Allison glanced at him thinking that was odd, then gazed out at the lake. As the carriage came to a stop, she stepped from the coach, and with her parasol opened over her shoulders, walked straight toward the shipping office.
Her long, light yellow, summer-style dress reflected a soft glow like the sun itself shining off yellow daisies. Her fluffy white sleeves seemed as delicate and airy as the puffy clouds that floated through the morning sky.
As she walked across the carriageway to the station house, some young men working in the area couldn’t help but stop and stare. One such young man, who was standing close by, graciously opened the door for her. She thanked him with a pleasant nod, and closing her parasol, she entered.
The office was quiet. Allison walked up to the counter and placed her parasol upon it. Her eyes spoke to the clerk hoping he would attend to her. Instead, a lady who had been shuffling through some papers in the back room came to her assistance. The square-box-figured woman walked with a troubled gait. She pressed herself against the counter and leaned upon it for support. She asked if she could help, then turned her head to better hear Allison’s words as though she was somewhat hard of hearing.
“I am Miss Hamilton, Peter Smith’s governess,” she explained with a raised voice. “Both of us have come to welcome his parents home. What time can we expect their ship to arrive?”
The lady gave her a strange look, then leaned much closer to her and spoke loudly. “The ship is missing. Has no one told you?”
Allison clasped her hands over her mouth. Feeling shocked by what she was just told her face went nearly as pale as the white of the gloves she wore. Her eyes filled with bewilderment. “What do you mean, missing? No one told me anything. As a matter of fact, there’s a ‘welcome home’ party in progress at the Smith’s mansion right this very minute.”
The woman leaned back and squinted strangely at Allison. She took a deep breath and pushed her shirt back into her skirt, then in a most peculiar manner, shrugged off the problem and retreated to a back room to avoid dealing with the situation any further.
“What?! What”! Allison protested as she looked around. “Is that it? No details, no other information?” But the woman ignored her. Perplexed with the woman’s peculiar behavior, she tried to speak to the clerk sitting at a desk in the back of the room. But he didn’t respond.
He had a small stack of little note cards in his hand and was going through them one by one, taking the front card and putting it in the back so fast, that Allison could hardly understand how he could read what he was seeing. He wore a funny little cap on his head and a bow tie around his collar. He glanced up and took regard of her and she spoke again. “Is it true that the ship, Liberty Bell is missing?” she asked with a more determined voice.
The man nodded. “I am afraid so Miss.” His voice barely made it across the room to be heard. “We got word ah – let’s see…” he raised his eyes upward to recall, “a week ago.”
“A week ago?!” Allison exclaimed with surprise. “But at this very moment Mr. Smith’s associates are throwing a big ‘welcome home’ celebration for him, just as we stand here and talk!”
“I am sorry Miss,” the man responded apologetically. “I can’t account for that. Our offices received notification a few months back that the Liberty Bell would be returning sooner than planned. Something to do with the missus’ desire to end her vacation early, but as it worked out, things did not go in that direction and we later got word that their plans were to carry on and the ship would be returning on schedule. But like I said, since then, we got word that the ship is missing,” and he raised his eyebrows as though to say, ‘There’s nothing I can do.’
“It seems to me,” she stated as she stared into his eyes, “that someone here should have at least notified me! And… why hasn’t the report of its disappearance been in the papers?” The man raised his shoulders and turned his hands palms up, then went right back to ignoring her again.
She found the gate to the back office and opening it, walked through and across the dingy office to where the man sat and stood determinedly before him. “Let’s say I march right back to the Smith’s mansion and find someone there and tell him you’ve been very rude to me. Do you think that someone would enjoy having to leave the party just to come all the way down here to teach you a lesson in manners?”
“A-l-l right Miss. What more do you want to know?”
“I want all the details you have at your disposal, and I want them sufficiently enough to satisfy my every question.”
“O-o-okay Miss. But I did notify Mr. Crogg when word came in, as I was supposed to. We have a strict rule around here that says, ‘If anything goes on, Mr. Crogg is to be informed.’ T-That rule came from Mr. Crogg himself.” And the clerk placed his hands palms down on his desk and looked up at her not knowing what else to say.
With this, Allison knew she could expect nothing more from him, so she turned and left the building. She heavy-heartedly walked toward where Peter was watching the lake from atop some large boulders. Feeling he would need her strength, she looked up at him as she approached, and waved him down.
“Looks like the clipper has been delayed.” As he jumped down, she added, “We shall keep posted by telephone this time,” and they walked to the carriage. Peter stepped in and then helped her in by taking hold of her hands.
“Clemmons,” she addressed the driver, “please take us back home.” Not wanting to worry Peter, she tried to keep a cheery mood, although she could not conceal her disappointment.
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