Hope's Imperfection

Chapter 2: Mission

“This isn’t my guitar, Grandma,” I pronounced.

“Of course not, dear. It belonged to your grandfather and now it is yours,” she replied.

“Thank you,” I said. “Where are Frances and Olivia?”

“Your mother and sister have gone back home to Baltimore,” Grandma Stanhope replied. “However, I need to ask you for a favor before you return home.”

“Okay, shhh…ure grandma, no problem.”

“Sit down boy….it’s a bit of a story,” Grandma Stanhope proclaimed.

“Your forefather, George Stanhope, came to New York from Scotland in 1784, just after the revolutionary war. George did not stay long in the United States; instead he moved to Montreal where he became involved in the fur trade.  George worked with the Hudson Bay Company, a corporation that still exists in Canada today! He married Alicia, and their first child was a son named Richard. George and Alicia would go on to have five more children, all daughters. The Stanhope family has had its roots on the East Coast for the past century, so we are not really sure how the family moved from Montreal back to the United States. I’m sorry dear; I don’t mean to bore you with the story.” Grandma paused.

“It’s fascinating, Grandma, but I’m not sure what you would like me to do . . . ”

“Richard, George’s son, was your grandfather James’ great- great- great-grandfather. James knew very little about the man. We believe his children eventually settled in Virginia.  Two months ago your Grandfather James received a letter from the McCord museum in Montreal.  Apparently Richard Stanhope’s diary arrived to their door by post. We had been so busy we were not able to make arrangements to collect the item.  I received a call last week that said that if it was not claimed by this coming Friday the item would be sold at auction in Montreal. The book must have some historical significance as I understand that there are some groups that are already very interested in the diary. Your grandfather insisted that it belonged to you so I am asking you to fly to Montreal tonight, meet the staff at the museum, and collect the diary for our family. Your mother has packed some of your clothes for the trip. Please take your grandfather’s guitar to amuse yourself with on the journey; he wanted you to have it.  Your flight leaves Dulles airport in two hours. I have a taxi coming to pick you up shortly. Your mother left me your passport. Please don’t lose it. This is a debit card that will help you on your journey, assuming that you will need to stay in Montreal for a few days to sort out the issue before you return.”

There was no time at all to ponder the offer. In fact it wasn’t really an offer at all. I was being ordered to report to a foreign country on a very strange mission.

“Should I call my mother before I leave?” I asked.

“You shouldn’t worry. I told your mother all about this little trip of yours so she knows not to expect you home. Perhaps call her from the airport once you start your journey,” Grandma suggested.

“Okay, Grandma, but are you sure I am the best person for this project?” I asked honestly.