Aquaguardians chapter 3

THE AQUAGUARDIANS CHAPTER TWO
Chapter 2- Eleanor

Eleanor Hargly continued packing the delicate china and glass into the barrels.  She paused momentarily to examine her wedding picture before wrapping it in newspaper.  Her green eyes played over the photo.  There was a willowy blond woman standing to the right of a darkly handsome lieutenant. Neither looked as if they had a care in the world.
Was that really us?  She thought as she covered the picture carefully with the sports section of the Sunday Times..  Eleanor gently placed the silver-framed photo into the barrel and busied herself with a crystal dolphin Cal had sent to her from Austria on her thirteenth birthday.  Her hands trembled as thoughts of her brother flooded her mind.  For a second, she impulsively wanted to smash the dolphin, as if that would erase the anxiety and difficulty Cal had created with his jealousy and paranoia. She quelled this feeling and continued wrapping.
Eleanor had run for the telephone when it rang earlier in the afternoon. After hearing Cal's querulous "Hello, Eleanor," she was sorry that she had not allowed the answering machine to perform the task.
Her heart had bounced uncomfortably.  He's going to try to make me feel guilty, she thought, and then responded, "Yes, Cal.  What do you want?" She could hear the weariness in her voice.
"I want to know why you're leaving.  How could you just pick yourself up and go?  After all we've been to each other?  We were so close when you were small; I took care of you, helped you in any way I could.  It's that son-of-a-bitch husband of yours.  He's the cause of our problems, I know it.  He's the reason you're going." The whine in his voice grew more pronounced as he reached the end of his harangue.
Eleanor felt her ire rise into her throat.  Her voice betrayed none of it, however.  She replied coolly, "Cal, you've never accepted my marriage.  For twelve years you've tried to drive a wedge between us, but it hasn't worked. Now that Roger has been transferred, you expect me to remain here? No, Cal. I love him, and Kurt and I will be leaving with him. You've negated your past kindness to me by your actions in the present.  Goodbye, Cal."
She had wanted to slam the receiver down, but controlled the urge. The anger dissipated and a familiar hurt replaced it.
Although she was twelve years Cal's junior, she had always been his source of solace.  When she was three, she would wipe his tears away with her tiny hands, telling him not to cry.  Even at that young age, Eleanor could see the inequity between their parents' treatment of the two children. Cal was hit unmercifully by Daddy, and Mommy never had a kind word to say to him.
Eleanor had lived in fear that one day Daddy would go too far and kill Cal.  She had never understood the antipathy her father felt for his son, and it still remained a mystery to her.  She had known only kindness from her parents.
She remembered the day Cal left for M.I.T.; she was only six at the time.  A brilliant high school student, he had been granted a full scholarship from the Michigan College.
He had packed his clothes earlier that morning as Eleanor watched.  As he looked around the empty room, he had told her that she would be the only person he would miss.  The six year old could sense the tears in his voice, and she began to cry—for him, for them.  Cal had swept her up in his arms and sobbed with her.  "I promise "'ll be back, Eleanor.  I'll always take care of you."
Cal distinguished himself at college. The name Calvin Quentin Thomas, Jr. appeared on dean's lists, on the roster of the National Honor Society, and in Who's Who in American Colleges and Universities, but Mr. and Mrs. Thomas took no pride in their eldest child.  They did not even attend his graduation, where he had won many awards and had graduated summa cum laude.  It was as though their son had ceased to exist once he left the house. Only Eleanor remembered.
She was intensely proud of her brother and when he received a fellowship to Cal Tech, she was elated.  He had written to her sporadically over the years; she, in turn, became a constant correspondent, writing to him faithfully each week. She had been surprised that her parents hadn't withheld his letters, but she later realized that her parents' love for her outweighed their dislike for Cal. They had seen her joy when the occasional letter would arrive.
After receiving his masters degree, Cal had left for Germany to teach at a university in Berlin and study for his doctorate.  From time to time, Eleanor had received gifts in lieu of letters because, as the enclosed cards explained, Cal was too busy to write.
Cal had returned to the United States when Eleanor was sixteen.  He had taken a position at a major chemical company in Delaware.  Now her older brother was only a four-hour drive to her home in Port Jefferson, Long Island, and the possibility of seeing him again had made Eleanor very happy. But she knew he would never set foot in the house when their parents were home.  Theirs would have to be a clandestine meeting, perhaps after school.
With a quarter in her hand and his telephone number firmly implanted in her brain, Eleanor had been able to make collect calls once a week to her brother.  One of these weekly calls had arranged a reunion.
Through the years, Eleanor had sent pictures of herself to Cal, so it hadn't been difficult for him to pick out the lovely blond woman who emerged from the late model automobile.  For Eleanor, though, it had been a different matter. She had not seen Cal for ten years, and then only through a child's eye.
As she had stood in front of their designated meeting place, a small restaurant two towns east of Port Jefferson ("...to avoid nosy parkers, she had told him), a tall, blond, loose-limbed man smilingly ambled over to the car.
Her thoughts now turned to the less pleasant as she picked up the ceramic-framed photograph of her parents in order to wrap it.  Their unexpected deaths in a fiery automobile accident came on the heels of her high school graduation. For as long as she could remember, her parents had played bridge every Friday night at their friend's house in Smithtown, and the Friday after her graduation was no exception.  Her father had unaccountably swerved off the highway into a concrete abutment, sending the car into flames and immolating the two occupants.
A grim Cal helped with the funeral arrangements.  Now he was Eleanor's strength, her solace. She knew he had no love for their parents, that his love for her was his motivation for taking care of everything.
That summer had been a horror for Eleanor. The days passed in a dark blur for the seventeen year old, but Cal was there to ease her pain.
Eleanor had been accepted to Stonybrook, but she didn't know if she wanted to go.  It was at Cal's insistence that the young woman started school in September.  And it had been the best thing for her.  The work load, her fellow-students, and the change of setting all served to ameliorate her grief.  And Cal, of course.  He spoke to her daily, assuring her that he would take care of her, letting her know that he would always be there for her.
Eleanor spent the holidays and summer vacations with Cal in Delaware.  Although she adored her brother, she began to feel uncomfortable around him.  He was attentive—too attentive, and Eleanor sensed that his interest in her went beyond brotherly love.  His embraces were too long, his kises too frequent, his caresses to incessant.
It was this discomfort that decided Eleanor on remaining on for the summer session in her junior year.  She became a resident assistant in Smith Hall, where she met Roger Hargly.
Eleanor had been drawn to the darkly handsome young man.  He seemed very different from the other students. He had not time for frivolity, and there was an intensity about him that awed Eleanor.  In many respects, he reminded her of her brother.
Roger had come from West Point to the Long Island university for the summer session.  He had decided to take an additional course in chemistry before he entered his senior year at the Point.  When he had first seen Eleanor at orientation, he had been attracted to the blond.  Apparently, this attraction had been mutual and, within the second week of the summer session, the two were inseparable.
Naturally, this created problems between Cal and Eleanor.  He wasn't pleased that she opted to remain at school for the summer, and now he wanted to know why she didn't return to Delaware on weekends.  Eleanor told him nothing of Roger and only said that she was busy.
When the summer session ended, rather than return to Delaware, Eleanor went with Roger to his parents' summer home in Ogunquit, Maine.  Roger's mother and father were wonderful, and they treated her as if she had been an integral part of the family for years.
Cal, who waited anxiously for Eleanor to return after school ended, was distressed by the news of her departure to Maine with one of her friends.  Eleanor had never lied before this to Cal, and now she told him a half-truth; Cal assumed that she had gone with a girl friend.  Eleanor gave him the telephone number and address to allay any suspicions, never expecting him to appear in Maine the second week in August for a three-week vacation.
Cal's arrival caused a great deal of embarrassment and unhappiness for the young woman.  He demanded that she return with him to Delaware, and she complied to avoid any further unpleasantness.
Once home, Eleanor refused to engage in any conversation with her brother, and answered perfunctorily whenever he spoke to her.  Cal monitored her phone calls, screened her mail, and followed her to insure that she would not contact Roger surreptitiously.  He was determined to eradicate all traces of Roger. Eleanor was relieved when the last week in August arrived and she was able to return to Stonybrook for her final year.
At school, Eleanor's contact with Roger resumed.  They corresponded frequently and spoke on the phone three times a week.  Vacations were spent with his family in Manhattan and although Eleanor was deeply in love with Roger, she felt enormous guilt over what she considered to be her desertion of her brother.
Cal reacted badly to his estrangement from Eleanor.  He became more withdrawn and morose than he had been normally.  Realizing that it was his unnatural jealousy which created the problems between them, Cal sought the help of a psychotherapist.  If he could just rid himself of this possessiveness, Eleanor might return to him.
Cal told Eleanor about his decision to go to therapy; she was pleased that he had gone for help, but she kept her distance, nevertheless.  The initial year of therapy taught Cal to deal with his external display of jealous behavior; however, it had opened a chamber of demons in the recesses of his psyche, demons which never would be totally exorcised.
In her senior year, Eleanor saw Cal alone only three times.  She always came away feeling guilty, though.  On the last of these occasions, she informed him that she was going to marry Roger in June, after his graduation. They were to be married in the West Point chapel. Outwardly, Cal smiled and congratulated her; inwardly, he felt a red-hot poker of rage sear his gut. 
Eleanor was aware of Cal's resentment toward Roger.  There was coldness in her brother's voice whenever he spoke to her husband.  Cal was indifferent to Kurt, her son, and had openly refused to visit Eleanor while she was pregnant, although Eleanor invited him repeatedly to the small house on the base at Fort Hamilton, Brooklyn.
Roger didn't openly discourage Eleanor from having contact with her brother, but she could discern that he was not entirely pleased by it.  He always knew when she had talked to Cal on the phone; she seemed depressed and tired.  He had spoken once to cal about this, but was told that this was none of his concern; what did Roger, an only child, know of sibling love?
Kurt’s birth proved to be a life-threatening event for Eleanor. The complications which occurred nearly killed her and she was warned by the doctors not to have another child.  A tubal ligation prevented any more pregnancies, and Kurt was destined to be an only child like his father.
Eleanor loved her son fiercely and it pained her that he would never really know his Uncle Cal.  Yes, Cal sent gifts dutifully to the boy on Christmas and birthdays, but he never shared himself with Kurt.
Her attention focused suddenly on the squeak of the front door opening and shutting.  "I caught a ball, Mom.  Dad helped me, but I caught it."  For emphasis, Kurt threw a baseball into the air and caught it in his glove.
"How wonderful, Kurt."  She kissed him on the cheek.  "Now, wash up because dinner is almost ready.  You can tell me all about it during dinner."
Eleanor turned to Roger and planted a kiss on his cheek, too.  "And what do you have to tell me, Rog?"
"Only that I love you, but I'll tell you all about that after dinner."
Eleanor marveled at the love that was still vibrant after eleven years of marriage, and at the weakness she still felt in her stomach from the mere sound of his voice. She continued to find Roger handsome and sexy, and knew he felt the same about her.
"You know, I went to see Cal this morning?" Roger said.
"Why?"
"I told him that I refused the supervisory position for his project.  I also told him we were leaving."  He said, and then rubbed his hand down the silky, length of her hair. "El, I know you love your brother and feel that you owe him something, but he calls twice a week, and after you've spoken to him, you feel terrible."
"Roger, he's my brother.  The only real family I have besides you and Kurt.  He was my strength when our parents died; he handled everything.  It was at his insistence that I went to Stonybrook.  He's had a hard life, Rog.  My parents treated him as if he were a stranger—less than a stranger.  He'd been hurt badly, and I somehow feel as if my birth had a lot to do with that.  He was shut out completely after I was born.  I'm the only family he has, and I feel that I've abandoned him." Tears welled up in the corners of Eleanor's green eyes.
Roger took Eleanor's hand. "I know how you feel, El, but I won't allow him to constantly cling to you.  It's not your fault; it's his.  If he weren't so damn possessive, so jealous, he could have not only a sister, but a brother and a nephew.  At any rate, we're leaving at the end of the week."
"But that's only a few days away; you said we were leaving next week."
"I know. Believe me, its better this way.  You won't have so much time to think about the move," Roger said decisively.
Roger always knows what's best for me, Eleanor thought.  In the twelve years she had known him, Roger had made all the decisions.  It was his decision that they be married following graduation; it was his decision that she not return to Stonybrook for graduate school; it was even his decision that they have a child early in their marriage. Eleanor didn't resent this; in fact, she welcomed it and was never sorry with the outcomes.
Eleanor nodded her head.  "I'm going to serve dinner now," she said softly, and she left the room.
Roger turned on the television to watch the 6 o'clock news and replays of the Yankee game.