Chapter 5: The Tale of the Tamrins

The Christmas season is in full bloom! If you're a San Diego native, you're probably familiar with the OB Christmas tree, if not, every year, the Ocean Beach community puts up a Charlie Brown tree to mark the season. Below is an image of the OB Christmas tree:

I watched the OB Christmas Parade and I strolled the roads of Balboa Park's December Nights (also known as Christmas on the Prado). And now I'm ready to curl up with my cup of coco to read a lovely story.

Chapter 5: The Man Named Brian Higley

Whilst the reverend and the school teacher shared a humble meal the man named Brian Higley dressed for what he knew was sure to be a night of success. He slicked back his fluffy sand colored hair and straightened his white color. His large round blue eyes took their time to evaluate whether or not the white shirt looked well against his skin tanned by the frequent touches of the summer sun. With a nod of his head, the man named Brian Higley confirmed his own initial suspicion that his good looks and charming straight-toothed smile were sure to knock anyone dead.

Mr. Higley tended to be distracted, but tonight he made absolutely every precaution to ensure that he would be ready for his date. The fine young woman he had his shimmering eyes settled upon was sure to realize that she belonged with him the moment he stepped over her threshold tonight. She simply had to, he reasoned. She was an erudite – surely she would know a prince charming when he came to sweep her off her feet.

Stepping out onto the stoop of the only inn in town that his grandparents had built, Mr. Higley figured that he fancied himself a walk before he abated his lonely nights. Mr. Higley headed off on this refreshingly cool evening. His shined black shoes made their way casually down the main artery of Providence. The walk took him past the town hall where the town-accountant’s daughter did not fail to see the young man. Mr. Higley was too pompously high on his cloud of hope to have seen the wanting eyes of the girl as he passed and as she pressed her hands to the window for a better look at the lad. However, the girl was unfortunately too transparent with her heart, so Mr. Higley failed to see her or to care. Mr. Higley was the type who saw only those who averted their eyes from his brimming confidence and dashing good looks. It was the challenge to change this aversion which brought passion to his deeds. And it was for this reason that Mr. Higley found tonight to be the fortuitous date on which that dark haired vixen Ms. Grace would bow from her aversions to forever be his bride.

However, Ms. Grace’s current passions formed a bastion that left her blind to the intentions of any other men. In fact, if Mr. Higley had only seen the way she smiled and laughed with the town’s reverend he would surely have turned green with envy. Lord knows what his young, bellicose heart would have done. Whatever the consequences of that encounter would be the reverend and the school teacher were blissfully ignorant to the possibilities.

Ms. Grace shared with Mr. Tamrin the trials of her day, not excluding the impossible bickering between the Davis’ and the Thomas’ and her being completely covered in chalk. Mr. Tamrin listened intently with a softly delighted expression on his face. He loved to hear Ms. Grace speak. The stress and the anxiety he had remaining from the earlier chat with the vampires vanished because of the sudden and unexpected appearance of the earth-bound angel at his door.

“What would you do about this, Mr. Tamrin?” Ms. Grace asked in reference to the habitual issues of the dairy families that were hacked-out in her classroom. “I mean, what can I do? Should I even try?”

Mr. Tamrin sighed as he leaned back more comfortably in the soft padded backrest of his kitchen table’s bench. He shrugged then said, “I think that you did the best thing possible by threatening to bar the reentrance to your schoolhouse if they do not behave, but you will have to stand by that threat if they become rambunctious again.” Mr. Tamrin shifted again then added, “I’ll talk to their parents. And maybe I’ll promise to sick Mrs. Huff on them as a messenger from heaven if they dare to disobey you.”

“Oh lord, a fate worse than death, Reverend,” Ms. Grace retorted. Thanks to the alcohol her tongue was rolling smoothly, her cheeks felt warm and she could not be more comfortable speaking to the man she cared for very much. “Let’s refrain from unleashing the hounds until those families wage war in church or something like that...” she scoffed to think that Mrs. Huff could be referred to as something sent directly from heaven.

For the umpteenth time that evening the reverend and the school teacher exchanged a look of bashful admiring. Ms. Grace sighed reverentially and her eyes fell upon the empty plate of her company. The meal had been very good, humble, but filling and tasty. “Did you like it?” Ms. Grace asked Mr. Tamrin, “The dinner, I mean.”

“Yep, you are a very good cook, Ms. Grace. I especially liked those sweet potato muffins you made for last week’s gathering after church. I could have eaten the whole basket myself.” His complement made Ms. Grace blush – now that she knew this, she would certainly make more for him. Even though the meal left his stomach a tad on the hungry side, it had been very tasty. The meal was perfectly sized for the small body of Ms. Grace, but Mr. Tamrin was a very tall man and were he not a reverend sworn against gluttony he could easily have eaten another three or four of the pockets Ms. Grace brought. The reverend looked to the bowl of fruit on the window sill of the nook. “I bought a couple apples yesterday and I’m not sure that I can eat them all before they spoil. So if you’d like please, help yourself.” Truly though the reverend knew that he could easily eat the fruit before noon tomorrow. However, he was so nervous from Ms. Grace’s presence that he was having a bit of a difficult time speaking calmly or keeping himself from babbling. He already felt small for rambling on the queerest tangents tonight.

Ms. Grace stared at the beautiful, vibrant red skins of the apples– they were rather tempting. “Oh, why not?” she said with a smile, temporarily forgetting that very soon she would have a class to teach.

At that very schoolhouse where in no less than seven minutes, Ms. Grace would be expected to commence her class for the adults, the man named Brian Higley and a circle of others gathered. Beneath the glow of two hanging lanterns several members of Ms. Grace’s class chatted about the day, mostly about the potential expansions their class was rumored to take.

It was not at all like Ms. Grace to be late and nor was it like her to not be in her small home before class, so her tardiness and absence was rather unusual. The majority of the students waited patiently for Ms. Grace to return from wherever it was she was presently held, but the man named Brian Higley anxiously kept his eye on the light-less window of the teacher’s home, hoping that he would be the first to catch a glimpse of her shadow.

“My, aren’t you the snazzy walker tonight, Mr. Higley,” Mr. Dawning from the common store said as he came to Mr. Higley’s side.

Mr. Higley smiled, his perfectly straight teeth lit up the immediate area from their reflection in the lanterns. “Thank you, good sir,” Mr. Higley shook Mr. Dawning’s calloused hand. “Just thought I’d look sharp for such an evening.”

“Oh, aye, sir, indeed, it is fine out,” Mr. Dawning agreed with a look to the star filled sky above. “Such a relief from the day, eh? And those stars! That’s the brightest I’ve seen ‘em all summer.”

“Don’t be so sure, Mr. Dawning,” Mrs. Quintort said as she joined the men in their conversation. “August had some gorgeous nights.”

“Indeed, ma’am, that it did,” Mr. Higley agreed as he gave the woman a polite bow of his head. “But tonight seems to have a bit more magic to its glow.” The charmer gave the woman a wink of his eye which she received with a delighted chuckle.

“Magic is a good word for it,” Mrs. Quintort agreed. She had always been impressed by Mr. Higley’s romanticism and darling face. However, the lad was about twelve years too young for her, but then of course there was also that husband-thing that bound her from indulging in his company. For her for now like so many others in this town the man named Brian Higley was a nice thing to look at, but nothing more. Mrs. Quintort cleared her throat to ask, “Where do you think Ms. Grace could be? Rather odd of her to not already be in there waiting for us, isn’t it?”

“Aye, she’s surely deliberately tyrin’ to mess with our minds before our exam,” Mr. Dawning postulated, rubbing his hands together to stay off the cool night air from his fingers. “It’s a wonder where she could be?”

Mr. Higley had forgotten all about the exam tonight. He failed to study the material from the past two weeks due to his business in other more pressing matters, such as finding excuses to not help his mum run the inn. He knew that he was doomed to fail this test tonight and that his mother would kill him because of so bad a grade, but with a second thought, Mr. Higley excused the worry. He rationalized that his good looks and charming countenance would undoubtedly win him over a good enough grade to satisfy the overbearing whims of his overly controlling mother.

At that precise moment Ms. Grace was finishing her last bites from the delectable apple while still sitting in the kitchen of the beekeeper.

“That was superb,” Ms. Grace announced, complimenting the reverend’s choice in fruits. “I cannot remember another summer that has consistently produced such marvelous fruits.”

Nodding to agree, the reverend confirmed, “Yes, it has been some time.”

“Time? Oh, my lord, time!” Ms. Grace panicked, popping up from the table as the singular word reminded her of her duties. “What time do you have?”

But Mr. Tamrin was not one to carry a pocket watch and nor was he a man who had a clock readily available in his home. The man felt awful for not being able to report to his company the information that she desired. However, Ms. Grace was so scattered that she had forgotten the pocket watch in her own pocket. Shaking her head at her own misguided thoughts, the school teacher removed the shining piece only to see that she was already a full six minutes past due in her class.

“Forgive me, reverend, that I must rush out like this, I am terribly late and I am never late, so I’m sure my students probably think I died or something,” Ms. Grace quickly muttered as she ran to the kitchen’s door.

“And we certainly can’t have that rumor out in the town by break of dawn tomorrow, can we?” Mr. Tamrin asked, his simple sentiment soothing Ms. Grace in an instant.

“No, we can’t,” Ms. Grace distantly replied, lost from a look to his eyes that she could only see as a handsome blur. 

The charming reverend walked to the side of Ms. Grace and he kindly pushed the door open for her. A minute more of maintaining the intimate stare passed before Mr. Tamrin nervously cleared his throat to say, “If it is alright with you, Ms. Grace, perhaps I could come by after your class so that we may actually discuss our plans, seeing as how we seemed to have skipped that tonight. I’ll also bring by a couple of books I have that you may enjoy for the purposes of this class.”

“That’s fine with me,” Ms. Grace replied. “I suppose I’ll see you then.” With a silent nod from the reverend, Ms. Grace partially floated through the garden and out onto the path. However, once she passed the sanctuary of the bees and once she was sure that the reverend could no longer see her, Ms. Grace took off running towards her schoolhouse.

The vampires still hiding in the garden exchanged a confused look, for neither could understand why their dear reverend took no effort to chase her. But then of course they also had no idea why she left, so they were entirely and literally in the dark.

Out of breath and exhausted from her run Ms. Grace arrived at her schoolhouse to be greeted with numerous questions from her worried students.

“I’m fine, really, I’m fine,” she persisted as she walked past Brian Higley without specifically noticing him. “I was at the reverend’s plotting the course that I am sure you all have heard of already. I simply lost track of time.” Something she had never done before.

Class then proceeded normally enough for everyone save for Ms. Grace and the man named Brian Higley. While her students diligently worked on their multi-subject quiz Ms. Grace stared absently over her class as in her mind she reenacted dinner with the reverend. While his classmates scratched the tips of their quills into their journals, scribbling out brief essays on history or science, Mr. Higley kept his eyes ever focused on the lovely teacher sitting behind her desk. Sure, he should have been jotting out answers to the questions written in chalk on the blackboard behind Ms. Grace, but no. He simply found her too interesting tonight. He was entrapped with the glow she wore so finely– he wrongly assumed that she could instinctively sense the fate-filled magic that soon would forever bind them as one. Oh, the very thought made his heart double its speed. Ms. Grace was such a good catch – she was of good breeding, intelligent, and though somewhat short, her dark eyes and dark hair simply captured Mr. Higley past conceivably normal levels of distraction. From his seat in the back Mr. Higley went so far with his distractions to trace his eyes past the point on Ms. Grace’s person where no true gentleman of Providence would dare look prior to wedlock. But how could he help himself? He was attracted to the delightful promise that Ms. Grace’s well shaped body provided. And that bun she always kept so tight at the back of her head! He wanted nothing more than to help let down her hair.
The time allotted for the quizzes ended. Ms. Grace’s students all turned in their booklets to the front of class. She thanked each one of her students as they did as told. Her sprightly mood at the moment and the “good behavior” of her students during class, warranted in her heart reason to excuse the class a whole ten minutes earlier than usual. Being simply thrilled from this expedited class meeting, the students all quickly filed out into the night.

Save one.

Ms. Grace was too busy erasing the blackboard of the questions for the quiz to have noticed that Mr. Higley remained. He watched the long sweeping strokes of her arm holding the chalk eraser and how her entire body moved with the sweeps. He watched her ever so greedily.

Finding her chores to be satisfactorily complete, Ms. Grace patted her hands clean of the chalk. She turned, subconsciously expecting to find no one in her classroom. To her start, there leaning on the front center desk was Mr. Higley looking as arrogant to her as ever. “Is there something I may help you with, Mr. Higley?” Ms. Grace asked. She absolutely did not want to have any involvement with this man. Clearing her throat Ms. Grace awkwardly continued in attempt to break Mr. Higley’s awkwardly intensive stare, “I could not help to notice that your journal’s section for tonight is entirely blank, Mr. Higley. Is there something that you wish to tell me?”

The man named Brian Higley smirked a smile that some would regard as charming, but Ms. Grace found it to be unnerving. She started to slip off her cloud that the reverend founded in her heart. Mr. Higley removed himself from his post and he approached Ms. Grace. The teacher felt mildly intimidated. She sat at her desk, hoping that the security of the table would serve as a bulwark for whatever Mr. Higley and his creepily large eyes had in store.

Mr. Higley partially sat on Ms. Grace’s desk, leaning his whole body so heavily on the table that he actually managed to push the desk slightly into the teacher’s stomach. Ms. Grace refrained from scooting her wooden chair back for comfort’s sake because she wanted to hold her ground.

“Ms. Grace,” Mr. Higley started, using what he believed to be his most suave tone. (However, Ms. Grace thought that it made him sound like a prat.) “Do you realize that there are only three and a half weeks until the Fall Festival?” he asked rhetorically. “How time flies. Anyway, you know how there is always the Apple March? Well, I could not help to think that it would be kind of nice if you and I were partners at the event.”

Ms. Grace stared with a critical indifference at Mr. Higley. Her memory was running back to last October's Fall Festival in order to recount the rules of the game he took such effort recount. From what she could recall the Apple March was an intimate sort of game that was usually done with the town’s newest couples as a bonding ceremony. “Isn’t that for couples?” Ms. Grace asked semi-naively, hoping that was not the arena to which she was being led.

Mr. Higley did not answer her question. He only gave Ms. Grace a devilish smile. The rather pompous prat twiddled his thumbs with annoyingly well-kept finger nails. “Ms. Grace, it’s been a while since I noticed the potentiality for something great between us. When we were kids, I always thought very highly of you.” (Ms. Grace doubted this; she could very distinctly remember Mr. Higley shoving her over a tree root when they were seven-years-old, only then for him to lie to the teacher about what happened when asked.) “And then when your parents died, I don’t know if you know this, but I asked my mother if she would take you into our home.” (Ms. Grace also doubted this because Mr. Higley had always been a very selfish, self-centered individual as long as she could remember and Mrs. Higley hated her very being. Ms. Grace also did not appreciate his bringing up the fact that her parents were gone, which still brought her great pain.) “I just thought that you would like to know that for many years I have had an eye for you.”

The school teacher continued to stare at this bloke, fearing that this would become a very long winded and rather useless speech.

Mr. Higley stood from the desk and he slowly began to pace the length of the front of the class. He held his hands behind him and he leaned slightly forward as though he was teaching a class. “Ms. Grace,” he eventually continued, though admittedly Ms. Grace was paying very little attention. “There comes a time in everyone’s life when they realize that what they have simply is not enough. Even kings, even our recently coroneted King Darneīl surely will someday come to the conclusion that something is missing in his life. Now, some men may look for years and years until they find what they are looking for and others, after their search, may decide that they are better off in wanting.” Mr. Higley stopped his pacing and returned to the desk. “Can you guess which one of these men I am?”

Ms. Grace could only hope that Mr. Higley was the former case, but she knew that under the present circumstance this probably would not be the appropriate fit. “The first?” she uneasily dared to answer.

Mr. Higley smiled as though he was withholding a great and ridiculous secret. “No, he answered, “I am neither.” (Ms. Grace began to wonder if she could sneak out without Mr. Higley noticing, but she doubted the abilities of her furtive prowess.) “I have only just realized what I am missing, but with my revelation the answer came like lightning to thunder.” (Ms. Grace could not understand the incorrect lightning-thunder simile, but she wasted no energy with any false attempts to rationalize his nonsense.) “I brought up that example because, Ms. Grace, you are the first model.”

“Oh, really?” Ms. Grace asked, quite surprised that Mr. Higley managed to turn this back to her. “I had no idea that I was ‘searching’ at all.” Truth be told, Ms. Grace had actually already found and had been found, she just did not know the full truth of the matter yet.

“Yes, that’s my point,” Mr. Higley continued. He removed himself from the desk, circling around it to corner Ms. Grace in her chair. Mr. Higley latched onto the arm rests of her seat and turned the chair so that she directly faced him. The school teacher was looking nervous. She shifted herself as far back in the seat as possible even with Mr. Higley narrowing downward for her. “Ms. Grace, you have been looking for a man to bring you out from your cave of lonely ignorance and into the bright world of knowing.”

“Excuse me?” Ms. Grace sharply asked, for she was no longer entertained.

“You know what I mean, Ms. Grace,” Mr. Higley said suggestively, slowly lowering himself ever forward. “You’ve been waiting to take a mate because you’ve been waiting for the right man to come along.” He was a mere inches away from her face. The back rest of the seat would permit Ms. Grace to sink back no more. “You’ve come to that first incredible step, Ms. Grace,” he whispered, honing in on her lips. Mr. Higley was but a breath away. Ms. Grace could feel the heat of his face burning against hers. “And when you reach the next peak, what man’s name are you going to call?”

“THANE!” Ms. Grace shouted as she shoved Mr. Higley away the second she saw the reverend enter the classroom.

Though he did not show it the reverend was absolutely devastated, regardless that for the first time in his life, Ms. Grace had said his first name. “I-I can come back later,” Mr. Tamrin quickly stuttered hoping at least to have one moment to recover himself after so shocking a scene. He immediately began to leave.

“NO! No, no, that will not be necessary. Mr. Higley was just leaving,” Ms. Grace firmly commanded as she leapt from her chair to shove Mr. Higley out of her schoolhouse.

Mr. Higley was nearly literally carried out by Ms. Grace. The arrogant man gave the reverend a look so smug and so full of himself that Mr. Tamrin wished to throttle the fool. Mr. Higley did not notice the burning eyes of jealousy the reverend glared at him, for the thrill of almost claiming Ms. Grace was blindingly invigorating. Besides, Mr. Higley knew this town; with the reverend as his witness, surely by vespers tomorrow the whole town would be talking about what he perceived to be Ms. Grace’s agreement to his proposal.

~*~*~

Whatever will happen between Ms. Grace and Mr. Tamrin? Guess you'll have to tune in next week to see if anything comes of the plot by Mr. Higley!

Until then, your humble author,

S. Faxon