IT ALWAYS FELT colder in Havenport than it actually was. It was the humidity, people said. Eph wondered if he’d always be a biological Alabaman, shivering in the Northern climes when others went about unfussed. The snow this year had come in December and stayed, with each storm piling more inches on the last until the paths on campus became narrow channels from building to building.
“Is the whole winter like this?” asked Ellie.
“Most of them.” His sister, Ellie, had shown up somewhat unexpectedly. A personal matter had taken her to New York, so she called and said she’d like to come up for a day to visit. It was her first time at Devon, and the first time Eph had seen her in over five years. He’d always had a soft spot for Ellie. Ellie the peacemaker. He was touched she’d made the effort.
Not sure what else to do, Eph was giving her “the tour,” a crisscross through the snowy pathways and quadrangles. He showed her the classroom where he was teaching his second-semester courses, and they walked by the occupied Stockbridge. Eph explained what was going on.
“What is it they want?” asked Ellie.
“It’s quite a long list, actually. Some of it is kind of out there.”
He decided not to tell her of his own misadventures. She would be supportive but wouldn’t understand.
Farther on they ducked into a stone archway, which led to the courtyard of Hewitt House. Hewitt was one of the larger residential houses and thought by many to be the most beautiful. The courtyard was almost a football field in length and had several weeping willows, which somehow hadn’t yielded their foliage to the assault of winter. Surrounding the yard were gracefully arched entryways that led to smaller courts, as well as peaks and turrets of varying height. At one end was a dining hall with a façade of stone and lead glass so airy and light it looked as if the two could dance. At the far corner rose Hewitt Tower, one of the largest freestanding stone structures in the world. Within its higher reaches was housed an immense carillon, which a handful of music students learned to play every year. Built in the most detailed Anglican style, the tower looked like an elaborate, vertical wedding cake.
“Students get to live here?” asked a wide-eyed Ellie, taking in the sweep of the place.
“Yes. This house, and others.”
“It’s so beautiful. I had no idea.”
Just then, the carillon began to play. The sound of the bells was peaceful and serene. Whatever was happening elsewhere in the world, this place, Devon, existed calmly outside time. The bells, this courtyard, it was all thus a century ago and would be thus a century from now.
They listened for a minute until the cold caught up with them, so they retreated into the dining hall to warm up. Medieval-looking pennants hung from the wood rafters of the twenty-five-foot ceilings. Around the walls hung formal portraits of housemasters past, only they didn’t call them masters anymore. They were heads of house now, lest anyone grow faint at the word master.
It was the afternoon lull between meals, but the dining hall stayed open for drinks and light food. Eph grabbed a coffee, Ellie a hot chocolate, and they sat in the almost-empty hall.
“I can’t believe this place,” Ellie said. “All of it. It’s like living in Harry Potter or King Arthur’s court.”
Eph smiled. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard the campus compared to the Potter books. “Sadly, it turns out my skills as a wizard are wanting, so they’ve got me teaching English.”
“I read your book, you know.”
“Oh, you’re the one.”
They laughed, then sat in silence for a bit, getting warm. Ellie looked tired. They had avoided the elephant in the room all day.
“So how is he?” asked Eph.
The Russell farm had been in the family for three generations. Everyone was expected to help, including the children. Technically, the government says you can’t work the family farm until age twelve, but Big Mike didn’t take much stock in what the government had to say about much of anything. It was hard work, particularly during harvest season. Migrant workers helped, but the family couldn’t afford many of them.
Like most boys, Eph grew up in awe of his father, but it was Eph’s older brother, Jack, who was undeniably the chip off the old block. Jack and Big Mike had a bond that made Eph’s heart hurt in every way that it could. Eph tried things that he thought might win his father’s approval, but it never quite worked out. There had been Eph’s disastrous turn on Pop Warner football, of course, and then later he wrote a school paper on famous authors from Alabama, which he thought Big Mike might like given the family’s long history there. Big Mike looked at the paper and sort of grunted. “Never read any of them,” he said, handing the paper back. Eventually, Eph just stopped trying.
Ellie met Eph’s gaze. “He’s been better. To tell you the truth, I worry about him. Ever since we sold the farm, he hasn’t had a purpose. Men need a purpose.”
“I suppose they do.”
“He moved in with us, as you know, and mostly he watches TV or sits on the porch. On good days, he might go out shooting squirrels, but there’ve been fewer of those.”
“Is it hard on you?”
“We get by.” She paused. “I have a small confession to make. I didn’t really have to be in New York. Mostly, I wanted to see you.”
“Sis, you didn’t need an excuse. It’s always great to see you.”
“It looks like you have a nice life here.”
“Some of the people are a bit different, but this is a special place. It’s home now.”
“And your girl?”
“D’Arcy. She’s my angel. Can you stay for dinner? Let’s all three of us go somewhere. I’d love for you to meet her.”
“I can’t, I’m sorry. I have to get back for a flight this evening. Maybe some other time.”
The conversation flagged the way it can between two people who love each other but have drifted apart with life’s natural currents.
“You know, he won’t say it, but I think he might like to see you sometime.”
Eph suspected that was coming. “I don’t know, Ellie…”
“He’s not getting any younger, and you two just need to get on with it, if you ask me.”
“Hey, Sis, I know you mean well, but I’m crazy busy here—did I tell you I’m up for tenure?”
Things were, in fact, looking up for his tenure prospects. He knew Fred Hallowell and Titus Cooley stood in support, and Eph seemed to be making progress with Sophie Blue Feather. He did his best not to reflect on the costume he’d donned for the trans rights march.
“I am so proud of you, I can’t even say. He is, too, in his way.”
“It doesn’t sound like he’s exactly asking for me. It might be a long trip for a short conversation.”
“Will you think about it?”
“Sure.” Eph looked at his feet.
“Well, I should get going. There’s a bus I should catch.” Eph didn’t even know buses came to Havenport. “You have a wonderful life here. And I promise to make time to meet your gal next time. D’Arcy.”
Eph walked her out to the street to find a cab.
Ellie gave him a big hug. “Don’t be a stranger.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”