Catching Up

The Unanticipated Visit

Tintin drove up to the big black iron gates in his old silver Mercedes.  He got out, the engine still running, and inspected the intercom box on the stone wall.  He debated pressing the button.  What was he even doing here?  He had been driving up town to go get some groceries, when the next thing he knew he was headed towards Moulinsart.  He was almost shocked as he pulled up to Marlinspike.  He didn't even know if he still lived here!

'Don't be foolish, Tintin.' He thought to himself.  'Of course he still lives here.  It's his family's house.'

He let out a sigh and pushed his sunglasses further up his face.  With reluctance, he pressed the red button.

As soon as he did, a low steady 'booop' came through the speaker.  A few moments passed by until a familiar voice came over the intercom.  "The Haddock residence."  It was Nestor. 

Tintin barely knew what to say except for what he was doing there.  "Hello, I'm here to visit Archibald Haddock?" 

"Name please." Came back Nestor's voice.

"...Tintin."  He knew it would garner a reaction (or lack thereof).

It was the latter, he soon found.  Silence filled the line for a moment, until Nestor cleared his throat and said "Ah, Master Tintin, one moment and I'll open the gate for you."

Tintin nodded firmly and walked back to his car.  He got back in and shut the door a little harder than he intended, white knuckling the wheel.  To say he was nervous was an understatement.

The gates creaked open slowly and pulsed to a stop, allowing him to slowly move his car through the threshold (as if it would vaporize upon entering the grounds).

It looked the same. All of it. The drive to the house, the trees, the woods, the hall itself...it was all present and accounted for. It was as if he had never even left.

There was a maroon car in the front, and also a forest green one. They were the same ones Tintin remembered driving around in when he was younger. 'He always was a cheapskate, wasn't he?' He thought to himself. 'How can you go all these years without a new car. He's certainly the money for it.'

He drove up behind the green one and parked. He nervously fumbled with his keys and turned the car off. He sighed out a breath of anxiety, scrunching his eyebrows together. He saw the front door open, which prompted him to get out of his car and see who it was.

Nestor stood in the doorway, peering out at him in the driveway. "Excuse me, sir," he said, "but I had to make sure my ears weren't deceiving me. It is really you?"

"It's really me Nestor." Tintin said, putting his arms out as if to say 'here I am'.

"Right.  Come in, sir."  He said resolutely.  He held the door open for him as he came up the steps.

He walked into the foyer and took his sunglasses off. It looked the same, he supposed, since the last time he'd seen it.  Everything except that there were a few toys on the ground, which made a Tintin wonder if the Captain had relatives with children staying with him.

"I'll notify Master Haddock."  He said in his quiet demeanor, much more rushed than it usually was.  Tintin nodded politely, flashing a smile.

The walls looked repainted, but there were a few places lower down on the wall which appeared to have marks on them; both colorful and non.  It reminded him of the phase Lorelei went through where she wanted to be an artiste and would doodle on the walls.  He smiled fondly at the memory, wondering what his babies and wife were doing right then and now.  'Probably nothing as uncomfortable as this.'

"My God." A voice ripped him from his thoughts.  His eyes jerked to the source, a tall man with salt and pepper black hair, a captain's hat upon his head.

They stared at each other for a moment, neither of them bold enough to break the moment.  Finally, Haddock began descending the staircase, taking the steps very slowly.  He was standing right in front of Tintin by the time he could muster up a "Hello."

Suddenly, Haddock broke into a smile and fits of laughter.  He grabbed Tintin with the force of a grizzly bear, bringing him into his chest for a hug.  Tintin, out of reflex and emotion, hugged him just as tightly.  "I can't believe it!" He kept saying over and over again.  Haddock brought him to arms length, bracing his shoulders.  "What are you doing here?! Not that I'm complaining but just...wow!" 

Tintin couldn't help but smile, a small laugh escaping him as well.  "I don't know really, something just told me to come here I guess."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah I have the groceries in the car to prove it!"  They both laughed heartily, hugging each other once again. Once they broke the hug Tintin beamed, saying "Well, shouldn't I be asking you the same thing?! I mean, when did you get back, how-how long have you been back?"

Haddock's smile faltered a bit, a sigh escaping him from the excitement he had built up. He shoved one of his hands in his pockets and the other grasped Tintin's shoulder. After a moment, instead of answering his question he said "Come with me. There's something I want to show you." With the Captain's hand still on Tintin's shoulder, he was guided through the manor that was all too familiar. They passed the kitchen with a small table and chairs in it, the dining room with a child's high-chair, and the living room towards the back parlor, which had various toys scattered around. "Sorry for the mess!" He said bashfully, bending down to pick up a toy here or there.

"No no, it's quite alright." Tintin chuckled thinking fondly of Zach. "Do you, erm, have family staying with you Captain?"

"Well...yes." He said with a mischievous look. Tintin took it as nothing more than the Captain's playful manner. He brought Tintin over to a large window of the back parlor, looking out to the grassy backyard. Outside was a woman with dark brown chocolate hair sitting with perfect posture in a lawn chair, reading a book. Then, running up the hillside came a little boy, wearing brown shorts and a sweater, flying a model plane. He looked to be about three or four, and had jet black hair.

"See him?" Said the Captain, pointing at the little boy.

"Yes, your family?" Asked Tintin, looking at the little boy.

The Captain hesitated a moment before responding, "My son."