The Tromonian Revolution

chapter 10

Chapter 10
On the day Max met Elijah again he decided to call his sister, to apologise and ask if he and Elijah could come home but he received some tragic news. "Grandad Fred is in the hospital," she told him. "He's gonna die soon, Max."
"Oh," he replied and everything of the past was briefly forgotten. "You can come home if you want and we can talk about all of this stuff. I've thought a lot about you, what you've been through and what your issues are. You need to sort yourself out, Hope has been telling me about it. It's not good. You know, you can come home but I'm not gonna take this shit again. Mum and dad are pissed at you. you claim to be better over and over but you don't even know what's wrong with you.”
“I know now,” he said. “I met a guy… Marcus. He helped me. He's like a guru.”
“A guru?” Sam said in a judgemental tone.
“Alright not a guru, like a therapist,” Max corrected. “He's really helped me, I understand now. I feel happy.”
“Oh yeah you feel happy? It's all alright now?”
“Sam, just listen. Stop all this. I know, I've been such an idiot.” Max began to cry, though he didn't expect to. He held it in and continued, “I'm selfish but I won't be anymore.”
“Max, I just worried so much about you. Like, what the fuck were you thinking? Suddenly, you've just gone all crazy again!” She cried now too, embarrassed.
“I know. I'll come home okay? We will talk about it.” He said. “Okay,” she replied and hung up the call.
Marcus took him home and Elijah drove his own car. “What do I say to her man?” Max asked Marcus as they drove. “I just want to forget it all,” he sighed.
“Well,” Marcus began after thinking for a moment. “There's nothing really you can say, all you can do is demonstrate who you are trying to be. Just say sorry and be there for her. She will forgive you. Don't argue with her about it, don't try to defend yourself. She should be mad, imagine how much anxiety she got. How much pain she felt in her heart the night you left, as if suddenly everythings just stopped. You know that feeling. She probably felt like it was her fault but it was your fault. So, if she makes you feel that same pain just accept it. That's what has to happen man. I'm sorry, that's the way it is.”
Max listened intently and after a few seconds, let out a, “yeah…” and continued watching the road.
He knocked on her door a few hours later. “Hi,” he said to her. “Hi Max, who's this?” she asked and nodded at Marcus.
“This is um… Marcus.”
“Oh yeah? The guru?” she smirked.
“Good to meet you Sam,” Marcus held out his hand for a handshake. They shook hands and she asked, “you're the person who's been helping him?”
“Yeah, I am but I'm gonna leave you two alone for now i think. I'll wait for Elijah outside.”
“Oh? Elijahs coming back?” She wondered.
“Yeah he is,” Max said. “He was the one who found me.” Max and Sam sat down together on the sofa. Sam spoke first. “You need to come and see Fred,” She said. “It's not nice but… you've gotta say goodbye.”
“We will,” Max said. “I just first wanted to say sorry, Sam.” He started to cry again and felt a lump in his throat again as his hands shook. He carried on through it though, he was only slightly visibly nervous and upset. “I really want you to know, I feel so terrible for just completely forgetting about you. Just pushing past you and leaving, it was just awful. It should not have happened but it did. I don't blame anything but myself and I know it's gonna take so long to repair the damage but I'm gonna do it. You might not believe me now but I will.  It's over, from now on, that's my goal, to repair our relationship. To not be such a burden.”
Marcus stayed and talked through Maxs issues fully with her. In the morning, they visited their grandparents and then drove to the hospital to see their great grandad for presumably the last time. This is how it is, you go down and see them and that's it. You say hello that is all. You cry only if you are given permission by the tears of family members or friends less fortunate. At the hospital Fred sat in his bed. It was his birthday and so he had cards and all that around him. "Max, it's good to see you," he said to him when they walked in. For three days he had always asked, “where's Max?” And the comment would be ignored or perhaps dismissed, “he'll come by soon, don't worry,” he'd be told, which would bring a superficial smile to his withered face.
"What's this about you going away without a word, eh?" He wondered and his wondering began a wurlwind of shame and guilt in Max's mind. “It's alright,” Fred told him. “You've got a lot going on in that head of yours haven't you?” He said and Max nodded. “You're gonna be fine. Keep your mind clear now, you're so lucky. Do it all, Max, everything I've done. I'd love to do it again. I love you.”
“Thanks Fred, I love you too,” Max held in the tears but let out his appreciation. He didn't want to embarrass himself, crying after all that had happened. He already seemed crazy.
John, Fred's son, was reminiscent of old memories. "Do you remember when you used to have those parties when we were young with mum?" He said, laughing and cheering. "We used to sneak beers upstairs, me and Christine, didn't we?"
"Yeah, we did," Christine agreed. "We were only about 9," she exaggerated slightly. "You remember that Dad?"
"Yeah, I remember," he smiled and held her hand. The parties Max had experienced of the family were nothing compared to these. These were the moments that life led up to. The kinks or the who or the birds would play because they had come to like that sort of music. It was an interesting transition from the classical music that they had listened to in their youth. Their music taste actually mirrored that of the history of music itself. "How could you go from listening to classical music to the who and all that?" John joked to his father.
The family stayed with him for the whole day. Eventually they were told officially in a private room that he was going to die. The hospital was cold and the snow was heavy but it didn't concern them. When the doctor left they all cried.
Fred had finally died at 8pm, now the disorientation had seemingly disappeared. He found himself in an empty elevator with subtle piano music subsiding in the background. The emotion he had felt in his last moments with his loving family completed his life. They were the exact emotions you want to feel when you die. You would rather stay but your time has come to leave and you accept it. You've done everything right, you've raised your kids to be better than yourself and your reward is waiting. He had been a devout ignorant christian his entire life and the world was surely reaching out to pull him into eternal glory like a wave of golden sea reaching to engulf everything within its vicinity.
He sat down and looked at himself in the reflection of the elevator door, he could yet again bear the sight of his own face. It was the same as it had always been.
He took one breath and the metal doors opened, revealing a large hotel lobby. That was unexpected, right?
“Hello!” A young woman greeted him at the door as he pulled himself up.
“Hi,” he replied. “Is this heaven?”
“You're welcome to believe that sir,” she smiled. That was not a satisfying answer.
“Do you think it is?” He asked her, bewildered.
“It could be, I don't know.” Again, it didn't make much sense that this world had less definitive answers than the last.
The woman took his name, Fred Wilco, and the truth to his previous question became clear as she read through her list and then looked up from it to ask a question. “Are you related to Jilly Wilco?” The world became heaven as these words left her mouth. His eyes lit up and a crescendo of euphoric realisation hit him. “Yes! I am. Is she here?” His wife had died before him, leaving him to live without her, not doing much but watching television and hearing the clock tick.
“Yes,” he lit up. The only words that could escape from the grasp of his tongue were, “thank you,” as he shook her hand. She brought him to her room and he knocked on hesitantly. Suddenly, as much insecurity as he had when he was just a small boy filled his fragile mind. What if she had forgotten? What if she had fallen in love again?
He heard her unlocking the door and prepared himself for the best and the worst. He was a child again, knocking on for her hoping that she would come for an adventure with him. Pulling the door open, his heart racing like a train through every station in his body picking up as many passengers as it could, she looked at him. The receptionist stood behind, recognising the delicacy of this moment. And his teary eyes locked onto hers. “Fred? Oh my god, Fred!” She fell into his arms without him uttering a word. This really was heaven, it was perfectly manifested in this beautiful moment. “I love you, I always will,” she told him. “I love you too,” he said. And through their days in the afterlife they listened to all the songs he couldn't bear to hear in the end and watched all the black and white movies he couldn't bear to watch.
Hope apologised to ElIjah when they were alone but ElIjah stopped her and apologised to her. "I'm so sorry," he said. "I've manipulated you, took you on this stupid journey down here just for my own sake. I'm the one who should apologise. I'm just so glad you're back."
Max came over to their house later and Hope bantered with him about what did and didn't happen, telling stories to ElIjah. They were all friends again, no grudges held.
That was the 22nd of december. On the 23rd, Max planned a concert. Hope helped him to organise it, inviting the people she knew. They did it to afford christmas presents. It was at the same pub as the first, but this time fans paid just to get in. Not to mention drinks, which both Max and Hope had a small but not insignificant cut of. They were not missing any longer, everyone in the town knew where they were. It was awesome. Awesome is a great word and it was that. Everything that the word brings it was. And again but this time without Tromonia, they treaded along the right path drunkardly with all of their friends and family locked between their arms.
Elijah called his mum that night, while Max and Hope partied. “Hi,” he said to her. “Elijah?” She gasped.
“Hi mum. It's um… it's been a while.” He didn't know what to say.
“It has,” she replied.
“I'm so sorry.”
“It's okay son.”
“We missed you.”
“We missed you too.”
After a short pause she started with the small talk, at least that was Elijah's interpretation. “Where are you living? Do you have a job?” And eventually, “when are you coming back?”
“Soon,” he told her. “After christmas.”
“Oh yes, merry Christmas Elijah! Can I speak to Hope?” She stammered though Hope wasnt home. “Oh, well, happy christmas. I hope we can see you soon.”
“Yeah,” Elijah said.
“I love you,” she whispered to him.
“I love you too Mum,” he told her and she believed him.
“We made a lot of money,” Hope said to him when she got home. “Almost too much!” She giggled and cheered, clearly drunk, loving life.“That's good,” he said. “I'll be expecting some life changing christmas presents.”
“Oh, they will be,” She smiled and took a swig of wine left over. The wine was an awful taste to her but Sam liked it when topped up with a bit of lemonade. That reminds me of her great grandmothers, both of them, Jilly and Mildred. The both of them did not like to drink as much as Fred and Calvin. They would drink coffee instead or a light glass of wine each and carry their husbands home at the end of the night. Calvin was older than Fred but they both had children the same age who were dating, Max and Sams grandparents. They'd gone to Spain, Fred's first time abroad and Calvins seventh. They got along very well, with Calvin acting as a sort of guru of drinking and forign countries, telling him the best beer to drink and the best cigarettes to smoke. He had  children only after he had experienced all there was to experience in the world, passing much sooner than Fred.
On Christmas eve, Max and Sam spent time with Elijah and Hope in their apartment watching Christmas movies and listening to music. Hope put on a buffet as their parents used to do with sandwiches and hot dogs and a chocolate cake afterwards.
When Hope had gone to bed and Elijah sat with Sam opposite Max, they talked honestly of the Tromonia and their withdrawals from it, and managed to convince each other that they loved the real world and would never abandon it again. It would take courage and temperance, they agreed, but the good was worth fighting for. And Sam trusted both of them; they were a family again.
They would aim at Fred, embracing the world the way he did with Jilly. Happiness would not be something that they chased, sucking it out of the world wherever they could find it. Their life would be an expression of it.They would feel it in everything they did, in whatever career they pursued and the breaks they took and it would be inherited through each generation.
Go out and play some music and lay in the snow and drink some beer. It's all so wonderful. Write a book and a song, or just sit and watch. Life can be as meaningful as it was when you were a child riding through the snow on your sledge or dancing with your sister, waiting for Father Christmas late at night, supposed to be asleep. You'll turn the world into an isle of joy by just standing up straight and seeing it.
On christmas day, Hope woke up around 6AM after a christmas nightmare about an evil santa and woke up Max. She always had a nightmare on christmas eve and that morning she told Max all about them. They appreciated that they were back home together at that moment and pressed their lips together to form a kiss. Then they treaded through the snow that had gripped the sidewalk since the first of December, and found themselves getting coffee. The sky was a sublime blue but the air was cold.
“I dont think I'm gonna be a musician,” he sighed after joking about the last few weeks. Hope was shocked. “You can do whatever you want to Max! You taught me that. Yeah, things got a little crazy, but you can still achieve your dreams,” She stated, impassioned, using her hands to convey her truthfulness. But, to be famous was not what he wanted anymore. “I wanna live a normal life, have kids and get married,” he giggled. “You know what?” Hope turned to him, locking their eyes together. “I do too.” Their souls were split from the same life but their bodies remained separate as it was meant.
The funeral for Fred was on the day after the day after Christmas. Max wrote a song about it, calling it “beautiful pain.” It went, “God is hiding from the people today, the sun cannot be seen. But there is a little hope, a smile from you to me. As you climbed through all of the seats, I couldn't help but feel alive. This beautiful pain came from all of the love in sight.”
But he never showed it to anyone and only played the songs that were fun and meaningless when he was asked to, even though he considered it to be his best work. He just didn't think anyone would like it. He was embarrassed of it. In fact, soon, he stopped playing his songs all together because he stopped mentioning that he ever had.
It was unknown to everyone until the funeral that Fred himself had actually written poems, all throughout his life. Very few but not an insignificant amount. Around two a year made up a whole book by the end of his life in one large notebook he had.
He never crossed anything out and seemingly no pages had been gotten rid of. They seemed to be him trying to understand his life and every life before it. Reading them out at the end of the ceremony, Max saw that they were better than anything he had written or sung. Of course, it didn't make him insecure but he knew. He knew only after living a life that was full as Fred had, he would be able to write as well as that.
After the funeral his grandmother explained that much of his family had been creative in some way. They wrote poems or songs or stories or sketched and painted. Not every generation had one, a creative, but the traits ran through each of them that had been born.
Though to Max Fred had always seemed a Jolly man, his grandmother, Christine clarified. “After my mum died, he was sad. He put on a smile at the parties, around the kids and all that but he was sad, Max. I'm glad he's back with her now. That's what I believe. When he was with her, he was a joker. He wasn't a joker when she died. But he will be again now.” And although she cried, it didn't hurt. The statement she made brought a world of peace that orbited her everywhere she went thereafter. She would hold the family together now, be the image of meaning in all of their lives as her father had been for her.
The end.