Birthday on The Moon

First Edit, Part 2

                "A sensible person is a simple person," his mother would often say and even going as far as to quote his Grandmother, "travel is for troublemakers". Adrian knew he wanted to travel - it was an itch that he could not quite scratch, made worse by him not knowing how. He had to be content with reading about adventure and not knowing how for real.

But there is always a black sheep in the family. A traditional rule breaker. A concurrent catastrophe on legs: Adrian's Grandpa, always an ambitious one. Always one pushing the boundaries as he comes as goes like a winter and summer breeze. Never staying in one place for too long and thus never overstaying his welcome. A free spirit. A wild card. A nuisance for Adrian's parents. Too daring to be left along with Adrian, too sane to be put in a care home and too polite to be locked away. Grandpa knew where to look for adventure and how to make it pay for his ticket there.

"Where have you been to this time?" asked Adrian's father, as he entered through the backdoor from the empty garden apart from Grandpa's shed. There was no mud on his boots, thankfully, thought his father.

"Nowhere special - just China," as he scoured through the kitchen for food.

"China!" replied the father - the shock was an understatement, but unorthodox nature could not be tolerated, "don't you know they don't even speak English there?" he said instinctually.

"Ni hou," he said as he continued to search with an air of sarcasm, "I know - that is why I went!"

"But, why, dad?" asked Adrian's mother, overhearing the conversation and coming into the kitchen, he was already halfway through the cupboards, "why do you do this?" she began, "putting your life at risk, getting on planes and speaking different languages?" Grandpa paused.

"Not to mention the foreign food. How do you handle it?" said the father as Grandpa was making eye contact with his daughter, his hands tucked away in a box.

"A man has got to do what a man has got to do," began with his hands rummaging through a small wrapper "life is meant for living," he said to his daughter turning from the cupboard with a handful of biscuits "and besides, not all the food is dangerous," he said to the father as he shivered at the thought of weird food.

"But, why? she asked, fully stepping into the kitchen, the might of the door frame could not hold her forever, "why can't you just retire? The Lake District is beautiful all year round. Peaceful, quiet and -"

"- Boring!" he interrupted, with crumbs escaping onto his shirt. He walked out into the kitchen past the both of them, the kitchen seemed dreary without his presence there.

"No", they both said as that was their main objection they could muster as they followed him out the kitchen.

"Nature is not boring," she said "nor are libraries or the forests", she added.

"Maybe if I were an elf, then I might live in the forest," he said sarcastically but she deflected it with years of growing up with him. They began to follow him along the hallway.

"No, no, no," said the father, as they followed him, careful not to leave an imprint in the recently steamed carpet, Grandpa, however, ignored the rules and regulations they set up about post-carpet-cleaning days, "nature itself is not boring - it is what you do with your time that matters" he reasoned with him.

"Well, in that case," he stopped outside of his bedroom, both the parents paused with anticipation as a spark of hope and excitement flickered within them, maybe he had seen the light and found the reason, they thought. Grandpa turned to look at them, the only trace of biscuits were the crumbs left behind to be excavated from his coat.

"Don't be boring," Grandpa said to them, as he stepped into his room and closed the door in their face. His daughter was used to his defiance and it brushed right over her, like a gale-force wind sweeps over the land, but the same breeze knocked over the father, he didn't like to hear 'no', no matter how covert or overt it was: Grandpa had escaped again.

Adrian heard the commotion adjacent to his room but ignored it; the struggles and relationship between Cleopatra and Mark Antony were more important. He tried not to concern himself with the business of the living, but instead with the long dead - they were more important right now and easier to get along with.

"Dinner is almost ready", his mum says poking her head through his bedroom door.

"I will be there soon", he says with his eyes fixed on the battle lines of the 1415 battle of Agincourt. She closed the door, leaving him in peace with his books, maps and scarps of study notes. His studious nature powered his thoughts and day-to-day life, he thought. His bedroom filled with different toys that had slowly receded and retreated away into boxes as the books came. The light pierced through the musky windows, the smell of paper and knowledge draped in the air. A small room for some, but a whole universe for him, where time and history all gather at a single point.

"Hurry up," she says.

"I always am," he begins by saying but ended up mumbling to himself.

His mother looked at her boy, closing the door slowly, admiring his nature and self-sacrifice, but despising his dirty the carpet and bed. He may have excellence, but that was no excuse to be untidy, she thought.

Dinner was always a strategic battle for Adrian and Grandpa: don't talk about school, books, business or life too much. Always complement mother on her cooking. Do not disturb father and his stories. And most importantly: chew with your mouth closed. Adrian found the whole rituals that his parents had devised about dinner time too much, his Grandpa thought it was over the top. Fine dining turned into excessive dining with the amount of knives and forks on display at any one time. The glasses were fine crystal and the plates were classic design porcelain. The whole mirage of the middle class and a well-to-do family that never rustled any feather came most alive at dinner. The whole illusion of life culminated in the ancient ritual that was dinner time. Adrian wanted out. Grandpa wanted to talk about business and travel, but money was too taboo and violated family etiquette. The silence dragged down the atmosphere as Father finished reciting a story as curiosity got the better of Adrian.

"Why is the sky blue?" asked Adrian, ignoring his meal.

"Because," he paused to ponder his next move, "that is just the way it is," he said reassuring himself that he had squashed an intellectual revolt in time for dessert.