tdr
12-21-2002, 08:26 AM
This fanfic, set in the present day, takes from the original LITB series, and also many points from the New LITB series... but with one major difference, as the reader familiar with the series formats will quickly see.
ONE MORE CHRISTMAS
Part 1
The early morning frost glittered on the amber grass and the leafless trees in front of the house at 211 Pine Avenue. There was not a sound to be heard on this morning of December 23, 2002. No vehicles were headed for school, which was out for the holidays, and no one else was to be seen as the clock approached 8—until Theodore “Beaver” Cleaver opened his front door and took a few steps on the walk to retrieve his morning paper. Other than it being a bit later than usual, this was a common sight on Mayfield’s Pine Avenue on a weekday morning between late fall and early spring. But this time Beaver, after picking up the newspaper, stood up tall, taking in the glittering sunlight and smelling the fresh morning air as if his senses had been granted a new relief.
The first thing that made this morning different was that he only had to go in to his place of business for perhaps 3 or 4 hours; and then, with the expected schedule of business during the holiday week with a Wednesday Christmas, he probably would not have to return there until Friday. But more significantly, his parents, Ward and June Cleaver, were to arrive in Mayfield that afternoon. Since Beaver’s divorce in 1983, he had moved back into the house where he had spent his growing years since the age of 9; living with his parents and his 2 sons for 9 years thence. Then in ’92 June and Ward, who had gone from semi-retirement to full retirement 4 years earlier, decided to relocate to the retirement community of Sun City, Arizona. After Beaver’s oldest son, Kip, graduated from college in ’95 he lived for another year at the house before moving away, then getting married a year after that. Beaver’s second son, Oliver, had been in and out of college and had moved out and back in twice before he got married in the year 2000. So Beaver, now 52 years old, had been completely on his own in the house for the past year and a half. In September, 2001, he had become a grandfather for the first time, when Kip and his wife, Debbie, had a son they named Michael Ward Cleaver. The 3 of them would be coming the next day for Christmas at Beaver’s house, too. And because his brother Wally, who had only beaten Beaver in the ‘grandfather race’ by one year, lived next door, there would be a lot of comings and goings between the 2 houses. Beaver was glad that this week had finally arrived as he stopped to smell the morning air, but he was also apprehensive as to whether he had everything prepared for the next few days—including his state of mind.
He had not seen his parents since the previous Christmas when he traveled to Sun City. He had noticed then that his dad-- who by keeping himself physically fit and intellectually sharp for so many years appeared younger than he was-- had really started to slow down. Ward had confessed that his favorite pastime, golf, had become too tiring for him, even when he drove the course in an electric car. And although Ward had had a mild heart attack in 1995, he seemed to have fully recovered and within 5 months he was walking 2 or 3 miles a day in addition to his days on the golf course; usually at least 2 per week. But in February of 2002, he finally had such shortness of breath that June called for an ambulance, and tests revealed he had had heart failure. This time recovery was much slower, and he was told that his kidneys were also beginning to fail, so he had started dialysis treatments 3 times weekly in April. Nevertheless, he danced with June at their 58th anniversary party on May 31. Beaver had wanted to go back to Sun City during the times Ward was having difficulties, but his parents dissuaded him, insisting that his dad was doing well. Beaver had had his doubts for a long time, but Ward let it be known he was determined to come to Mayfield for Christmas and let his sons see for themselves that he was still going strong. That is the main reason this was such a long-awaited day for Beaver.
He went back inside and had 2 cups of coffee and a poached egg on toast as he read through the paper. There were a few nice items concerning the Christmas season, but the headline news was still about impending conflict with Iraq. His technology stocks were down again, and the weather forecast was “colder with possible snow and freezing rain through Christmas Day.” But nothing in the paper was going to ruin Beaver’s good feeling as he completed his ‘business casual’ attire with a plaid sport coat and walked to the garage and his Ford Explorer to leave for his office.
Beaver now worked in his office alone with an assistant, and sometimes a temporary employee if the workload was heavy. Clarence “Lumpy” Rutherford, his partner, had started a new office in a small plaza in the new part of growing Mayfield. Their successful accounting business had justified this move, but it was also because Beaver and Lumpy were beginning to have some minor conflicts. Since Lumpy—the more extravagant of the 2—had bought a new house in the country club community nearer that part of town, it was decided that he would go to the new office. Beaver had made 2 loans to Lumpy and his second wife, Leah, a teacher at Mayfield High School, because they were continually in debt. But Beaver resolved that the second loan would be the last, and this might lead to further conflict between them, and could even result in a complete split in their business. But Beaver thought that was now immaterial as long as he got his money back, since he was doing well on his own anyway. After Beaver spent the morning going over cash flow reports and trial balances for 3 clients, he dismissed his assistant for the holidays and at 12:30 he was almost ready to leave himself. But the phone rang and it was Lumpy, asking Beaver’s advice about how to handle a matter concerning Eddie Haskell’s funding to pay off a $27,000 judgment he had incurred in his contracting business. Beaver simply jotted down the basic facts and said he would get back to the task on Friday; that today he had the more important matter of going to the airport to meet his parents.
Beaver drove out onto Highway 39 to the new Applebee’s Restaurant. He saw Wally’s BMW parked outside, so he went in and looked around for his brother, with whom he was to meet to make sure they had their plans in sync for the week. “Hey Beav,” said Wally over a cup of coffee at his small table. Beaver sat down and looked across the table at Wally in his 3-piece blue suit. “I guess you’ll be going to the airport by yourself,” continued Wally. “I’ll need to finish up on a couple of documents so I can get away and forget all about the whereas’s and thereof’s and therefore’s of the legal profession.”
“That’s okay, Wally. Just before I left I got a call from Lumpy about setting up Eddie Haskell’s escrow to pay off his latest judgment, but I told him I’d get back to it on Friday.”
“Yeah, I tell you, Beav, I’m glad I refused to take his case that last time. It took me 3 years to get paid from the last time I took his case.” Both brothers laughed.
By the time they finished their ‘Chicken Frisco’ salads, they had the plans straight that Ward and June would take their old bedroom in Beaver’s house, while Beaver would sleep in his and Wally’s “old room,” and Oliver and his wife, Kim, in the guest room; while Kip and Debbie and Michael Ward would sleep in the extra room at Wally and Mary Ellen’s house. Wally’s daughter, Kelly, and her husband, Dr. Harold Thayer, an optometrist, would be visiting only on Christmas Day with Wally’s granddaughter, Rose Marie Thayer. So Beaver would keep the unassembled ‘fun center’ for Michael in his garage, and Wally would keep Ward’s present in his (Wally’s) garage. Those were the only gifts too big to be wrapped and brought inside. As they parted company, they again expressed how they only hoped that Ward would actually be able to use the present they had bought him together.
Beaver made the drive to the airport and found that his parents’ flight was delayed approximately 25 minutes. He went into the secured area, having to take his change and keys out of his pockets before he was allowed to pass. Fortunately he remembered to leave his pocketknife in his Explorer, so it was not confiscated. He sat down near the arrival gate and looked out the large windows, thinking of how he was 24 years old when he took his first flight, and trying to figure how many years he had to go back to cover his last 24 flights—6 years? 7? He wasn’t sure. But at moments of waiting like these, the thoughts do surface from nowhere as to how much things have changed in a person’s lifetime. Beaver had never been more than 250 miles from Mayfield until the summer after the 8th grade, when he and Gilbert Bates were sent on a bus tour around the country. Then he didn’t travel significantly again until a summer van trip up the East Coast with some fraternity buddies. And then the army, in which he missed Vietnam, but served a year in Germany. Then he “settled” in 3 different states before his divorce, which led him back to Mayfield, where he had then stayed for 19 years, but traveling for business and sometimes for pleasure almost every year.
As Beaver got lost in his reminiscences, he was almost taken by surprise as he saw the Boeing 757 come rolling in toward the gate. He walked to the door and he thought he saw at least 100 people exiting the plane until he finally spied Ward and June slowly coming up the enclosed ramp. Beaver expected his dad might look like he had been through some tough times, and he was right. An attendant was walking with them, and as they approached he saw that she was pushing a wheeled oxygen tank. That much Beaver had not expected.
ONE MORE CHRISTMAS
Part 1
The early morning frost glittered on the amber grass and the leafless trees in front of the house at 211 Pine Avenue. There was not a sound to be heard on this morning of December 23, 2002. No vehicles were headed for school, which was out for the holidays, and no one else was to be seen as the clock approached 8—until Theodore “Beaver” Cleaver opened his front door and took a few steps on the walk to retrieve his morning paper. Other than it being a bit later than usual, this was a common sight on Mayfield’s Pine Avenue on a weekday morning between late fall and early spring. But this time Beaver, after picking up the newspaper, stood up tall, taking in the glittering sunlight and smelling the fresh morning air as if his senses had been granted a new relief.
The first thing that made this morning different was that he only had to go in to his place of business for perhaps 3 or 4 hours; and then, with the expected schedule of business during the holiday week with a Wednesday Christmas, he probably would not have to return there until Friday. But more significantly, his parents, Ward and June Cleaver, were to arrive in Mayfield that afternoon. Since Beaver’s divorce in 1983, he had moved back into the house where he had spent his growing years since the age of 9; living with his parents and his 2 sons for 9 years thence. Then in ’92 June and Ward, who had gone from semi-retirement to full retirement 4 years earlier, decided to relocate to the retirement community of Sun City, Arizona. After Beaver’s oldest son, Kip, graduated from college in ’95 he lived for another year at the house before moving away, then getting married a year after that. Beaver’s second son, Oliver, had been in and out of college and had moved out and back in twice before he got married in the year 2000. So Beaver, now 52 years old, had been completely on his own in the house for the past year and a half. In September, 2001, he had become a grandfather for the first time, when Kip and his wife, Debbie, had a son they named Michael Ward Cleaver. The 3 of them would be coming the next day for Christmas at Beaver’s house, too. And because his brother Wally, who had only beaten Beaver in the ‘grandfather race’ by one year, lived next door, there would be a lot of comings and goings between the 2 houses. Beaver was glad that this week had finally arrived as he stopped to smell the morning air, but he was also apprehensive as to whether he had everything prepared for the next few days—including his state of mind.
He had not seen his parents since the previous Christmas when he traveled to Sun City. He had noticed then that his dad-- who by keeping himself physically fit and intellectually sharp for so many years appeared younger than he was-- had really started to slow down. Ward had confessed that his favorite pastime, golf, had become too tiring for him, even when he drove the course in an electric car. And although Ward had had a mild heart attack in 1995, he seemed to have fully recovered and within 5 months he was walking 2 or 3 miles a day in addition to his days on the golf course; usually at least 2 per week. But in February of 2002, he finally had such shortness of breath that June called for an ambulance, and tests revealed he had had heart failure. This time recovery was much slower, and he was told that his kidneys were also beginning to fail, so he had started dialysis treatments 3 times weekly in April. Nevertheless, he danced with June at their 58th anniversary party on May 31. Beaver had wanted to go back to Sun City during the times Ward was having difficulties, but his parents dissuaded him, insisting that his dad was doing well. Beaver had had his doubts for a long time, but Ward let it be known he was determined to come to Mayfield for Christmas and let his sons see for themselves that he was still going strong. That is the main reason this was such a long-awaited day for Beaver.
He went back inside and had 2 cups of coffee and a poached egg on toast as he read through the paper. There were a few nice items concerning the Christmas season, but the headline news was still about impending conflict with Iraq. His technology stocks were down again, and the weather forecast was “colder with possible snow and freezing rain through Christmas Day.” But nothing in the paper was going to ruin Beaver’s good feeling as he completed his ‘business casual’ attire with a plaid sport coat and walked to the garage and his Ford Explorer to leave for his office.
Beaver now worked in his office alone with an assistant, and sometimes a temporary employee if the workload was heavy. Clarence “Lumpy” Rutherford, his partner, had started a new office in a small plaza in the new part of growing Mayfield. Their successful accounting business had justified this move, but it was also because Beaver and Lumpy were beginning to have some minor conflicts. Since Lumpy—the more extravagant of the 2—had bought a new house in the country club community nearer that part of town, it was decided that he would go to the new office. Beaver had made 2 loans to Lumpy and his second wife, Leah, a teacher at Mayfield High School, because they were continually in debt. But Beaver resolved that the second loan would be the last, and this might lead to further conflict between them, and could even result in a complete split in their business. But Beaver thought that was now immaterial as long as he got his money back, since he was doing well on his own anyway. After Beaver spent the morning going over cash flow reports and trial balances for 3 clients, he dismissed his assistant for the holidays and at 12:30 he was almost ready to leave himself. But the phone rang and it was Lumpy, asking Beaver’s advice about how to handle a matter concerning Eddie Haskell’s funding to pay off a $27,000 judgment he had incurred in his contracting business. Beaver simply jotted down the basic facts and said he would get back to the task on Friday; that today he had the more important matter of going to the airport to meet his parents.
Beaver drove out onto Highway 39 to the new Applebee’s Restaurant. He saw Wally’s BMW parked outside, so he went in and looked around for his brother, with whom he was to meet to make sure they had their plans in sync for the week. “Hey Beav,” said Wally over a cup of coffee at his small table. Beaver sat down and looked across the table at Wally in his 3-piece blue suit. “I guess you’ll be going to the airport by yourself,” continued Wally. “I’ll need to finish up on a couple of documents so I can get away and forget all about the whereas’s and thereof’s and therefore’s of the legal profession.”
“That’s okay, Wally. Just before I left I got a call from Lumpy about setting up Eddie Haskell’s escrow to pay off his latest judgment, but I told him I’d get back to it on Friday.”
“Yeah, I tell you, Beav, I’m glad I refused to take his case that last time. It took me 3 years to get paid from the last time I took his case.” Both brothers laughed.
By the time they finished their ‘Chicken Frisco’ salads, they had the plans straight that Ward and June would take their old bedroom in Beaver’s house, while Beaver would sleep in his and Wally’s “old room,” and Oliver and his wife, Kim, in the guest room; while Kip and Debbie and Michael Ward would sleep in the extra room at Wally and Mary Ellen’s house. Wally’s daughter, Kelly, and her husband, Dr. Harold Thayer, an optometrist, would be visiting only on Christmas Day with Wally’s granddaughter, Rose Marie Thayer. So Beaver would keep the unassembled ‘fun center’ for Michael in his garage, and Wally would keep Ward’s present in his (Wally’s) garage. Those were the only gifts too big to be wrapped and brought inside. As they parted company, they again expressed how they only hoped that Ward would actually be able to use the present they had bought him together.
Beaver made the drive to the airport and found that his parents’ flight was delayed approximately 25 minutes. He went into the secured area, having to take his change and keys out of his pockets before he was allowed to pass. Fortunately he remembered to leave his pocketknife in his Explorer, so it was not confiscated. He sat down near the arrival gate and looked out the large windows, thinking of how he was 24 years old when he took his first flight, and trying to figure how many years he had to go back to cover his last 24 flights—6 years? 7? He wasn’t sure. But at moments of waiting like these, the thoughts do surface from nowhere as to how much things have changed in a person’s lifetime. Beaver had never been more than 250 miles from Mayfield until the summer after the 8th grade, when he and Gilbert Bates were sent on a bus tour around the country. Then he didn’t travel significantly again until a summer van trip up the East Coast with some fraternity buddies. And then the army, in which he missed Vietnam, but served a year in Germany. Then he “settled” in 3 different states before his divorce, which led him back to Mayfield, where he had then stayed for 19 years, but traveling for business and sometimes for pleasure almost every year.
As Beaver got lost in his reminiscences, he was almost taken by surprise as he saw the Boeing 757 come rolling in toward the gate. He walked to the door and he thought he saw at least 100 people exiting the plane until he finally spied Ward and June slowly coming up the enclosed ramp. Beaver expected his dad might look like he had been through some tough times, and he was right. An attendant was walking with them, and as they approached he saw that she was pushing a wheeled oxygen tank. That much Beaver had not expected.