THE PHOTO TRAVELER (THE PHOTO...

By ArthurJGonzalez

950K 14.9K 2.1K

Seventeen-year-old Gavin Hillstone is resigned to being miserable for the rest of his life. Left alone in th... More

FRONT MATTER & PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 23

11.7K 271 29
By ArthurJGonzalez

Check out the website: www.thephototravelerbook.com

Buy for $2.99 on Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/The-Photo-Traveler-Series-ebook/dp/B00BI4KEQC/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1360886583&sr=8-35

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The next morning, I’m pulled away from my dreams about Alanna by my cell, which rings, goes silent, and moments later rings again. I give up trying to sleep and reach for it. The first message is a text from Dina:

Happy 18th Bday. I miss u. We all do. Even Jet. I hope you are ok & have a gr8 day.

 

      I roll my eyes and delete it, but the next one catches me by surprise. It’s from Melinda:

I know I probably wasn’t the best sister and I’m sorry for that. I hope your life turns out the way it should be. Love ya and miss ya. Xo.

      I’m surprised by how much this means to me, and I decide to lock it. I can’t recall her ever having said anything intimate to me.

      When I open my blinds, the morning sun warms my face and I smile at the families walking their dogs over in the park—until I see one woman walk off without picking up her Great Dane’s great dump. That’s a pet peeve of mine. Does it really take that much effort to get a small bag and toss it out? I leave the blinds open to the sun and head down the hall to shower.

      When I come back to my room, I find a blue envelope on my bed. It’s a card from Estelle and Bud, along with a check for $200 and a $50 iTunes gift card! I can’t remember the last time someone gave me a birthday gift. I didn’t even celebrate my last three. What was the point? My last birthday “party” was when I turned 15 and Jet and Dina took me to some pizza place. Except that Jet got into a fight with our waiter and we were basically thrown out. Not exactly the best birthday memory.

       I tuck the whole envelope in my drawer. I’m not going to deposit the check. I want to keep it—it’s a token of what finally surrounds me. I pull out the photo album Estelle and Bud gave me and flip to the photo of the day I was born. I leave it out to remind me to visit them when I get home from school. When I saw them in the Depression, I may have accepted letting them go to choose their futures, but there’s no reason I can’t still share the memories of the past with them.

      I skip down the steps and into the living room. “Happy Birthday!” Estelle and Bud applaud from the kitchen. Then they hurry over to me and wrap their arms around me.

      “Honey,” Estelle says, “you have no idea what it means to us that we’re celebrating your birthday with you!” She has trouble getting the words out because she’s trying to keep from crying.

      “We’ve dreamed of this for so many years!” Bud adds. He looks as if he’s fighting tears, too. “We never thought it would happen! I tell you, buddy, if I were to die today, I’d die a happy man. We love you!”

      I hug them both, trying my hardest to hold back my own set of waterworks. “I love you too, and I’m exactly where I want to be! For once.”

      Bud and I sit down at the table and Estelle brings out breakfast. “Now, we know how much you love your sweets, so I made you something special. Homemade chocolate chip pancakes, cinnamon rolls, and an egg-white spinach and turkey sausage omelet.”

      My eyes light up. “Sweet! Oh, that looks awesome!” I pluck a cinnamon roll from the plate and stuff my face with it. “Wow! This is so good!”

      Estelle stands next to Bud and prepares his plate as she always does. And as always he protests, “Aw honey, you don’t have to do this! Why don’t you sit down and let me make your plate?” And again as always, she refuses. “No, no—you just eat. I’ll fix mine in a minute...”

I hope that someday I find a love like theirs. It seems so rare these days. My stomach sinks as I think back to Alanna and wonder—if things were different, if she weren’t actually from the past or dead… would this be the type of love we’d have?

      Estelle sets Bud’s plate in front of him and plops another roll on mine. “By the way, sweetheart, we have reservations for tonight at that restaurant you’ve mentioned. We hope you don’t mind. We made them for seven o’ clock.”

      “The Royal Chophouse? You guys are really the best! Of course I don’t mind! Are you kidding?”

* * *

The school day flies by. All of my teachers know it’s my birthday and wish me a great day. Mr. Perry, who’s still my favorite teacher by a long shot, gives me a $50 gift card for Tyson’s Corner Mall. This catches me off guard. No teacher has ever gone out of their way to buy me a gift. Forget comparing my old school with this one because I know how lucky I am to be here.

      During class, Mario asks what I have planned for my birthday.

      “Nothing much. Dinner with the family.”

      When I tell him we’re going to the Royal Chophouse, he exclaims, “It rocks! Try the Emperor Strip… it’s insanely good, man! Best piece of steak ever!”

      We agree to meet up tomorrow to finalize the presentation piece for our project and he insists on taking me out on the weekend. “No ifs or buts about it! You haven’t really gone out since you’ve been here—what better reasons than to celebrate your 18th?”

      I give in. “Okay! But no bowling! I hate bowling!”

      “Dude,” he laughs. “Who the hell goes bowling anyways?”

* * *

 “Reservation for three, please. Under Gavin,” Bud tells the hostess at the restaurant that night. Her makeup and hair are styled to make her look like something out of a Victorian painting.

      The Royal Chophouse is ridiculous! The waiting area is decorated with paintings of Victorian-era royalty. All the fixtures are painted gold, and the door that leads into main dining room is covered with gems. The chandelier above the hostess’s podium is in the shape of a gigantic crystal crown hung with dazzling jewels. The entire restaurant really is as “royal” as a place can be.

      The hostess smiles at us. “Your table’s now ready.” 

      A man wearing a royal blue uniform decked with gilt braid escorts us into the dining room. It’s gorgeous, with distressed-wood tables positioned at discreet intervals throughout the room. The dining chairs are styled like thrones with velvet cushions and a large piercing ruby in the center of the headrest. Dwarfs dressed in blue silk vests with gold buttons and top hats pass from table to table handing out chocolate gold coins to the diners.

      Our table is near a stage at the far side of the dining room. I’m excited because one of the main reasons I was so eager to come here was to see their legendary old-style burlesque show. And here I am, sitting right next to where it’ll take place.

      “Isn’t this awesome?" I ask Estelle and Bud. I’m grinning so much I know my back molars are showing.

      I order the Emperor Strip, medium rare, while they both opt for king salmon even though I tease them about it. “Come on, guys, you can’t come to a steak house and eat fish!”

      A few minutes after we order, the lights are dimmed and the sound of classic anthem-style music fills the room. The red drapes around the stage open slowly, revealing an actress wearing a Victorian-style white wig, a purple-laced corset body suit, and a large gallant queen robe. The dwarfs run on stage in unison with gold canes and perform a number with the vibrant actress. The show continues for about 20 minutes, with most of the diners ignoring their dinners to take photos and videos of the spectacle.

      Our food arrives shortly before “Queen Victoria’s” number is over.

      I reach for my gold-plated knife and fork. “This looks so good!”

      Estelle and Bud glance at each other and smile at my delight.

      Halfway through our meal, Bud puts his hand on his chest and sighs.

      Estelle leans over and puts her hand on his. “Honey, are you feeling okay?”

      He nods and lets out a couple of small burps. “Yeah. Just gas, I think.” He stands up. “I’m going to the restroom. I’ll be right back.” He gives Estelle a long kiss on the forehead before leaving the table. She and I look at each other but shrug and continue eating—until a minute or two later when a woman’s voice shrieks, “Help! Someone call 911!”

      The woman, one of the waitresses, rushes into the dining room from the area near the restroom. “A man’s collapsed in there!” As the people near us stand up to see what’s going on, Estelle whispers, “Bud—?”

      People all around me are grabbing for their phones. I jump up and push my way to the hallway. “Bud?” I shout. “Bud!”

      He’s lying on the thick crimson carpeting with his eyes closed, and arms and legs twitching in convulsions as if from an electric shock.

      “Bud!” I choke, and drop to my knees next to him.

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