THE CHASM 

By Tessa Harvey

    Gavin looked at his nephew. He felt unaccountably tired. The boy, no the young man - he corrected himself, had not been the perfect replica of an ideal son he had expected.

    When first Dylan had asked about his parents, he remembered sitting down next to the eight year old on his small bed, placing an arm across the small shoulders.

    The boy had flinched, which had both annoyed and troubled him. They died in a car crash. It was cold, icy. They lost control on a steep corner of a mountain bend. That bend was so bad, it was called 'Devil's Elbow.' Silent sobs had shaken the little boy. Over the intervening years, Dylan had asked for more details. Now he wanted to know about other relations.

    Gavin swore harshly in his head. "You know something, don't you?" "Yes," snapped Dylan, "you have kept a whole family from me, and from yourself. Why?! Because my cousins are not perfect? Jonathan has epilepsy. Is that why?"

    His uncle sat down. Suddenly he looked beaten and bowed down. "Nicholas married an Italian lady. He is part Irish, part German, as I am." He spread out his arms in a broad gesture, appealingly. "It was hard, bringing up a little boy on my own." "I wasn't a difficult child," retorted Dylan, "and they say it takes a whole village to raise a child. A family would have helped. You have some very cruel, strange ideas, uncle."

    He opened the open door, closed it quietly and left, leaving his uncle totally alone.

    Twenty minutes later, Dylan was back. He strode in, forgetting about the absolute NO-NO of boots on carpet, and stopped in surprise. "Dad," he exclaimed, "why are you crying? Come on, let's go out for lunch. Leave your lawyer stuff. It's Saturday. Let's have some fun!! We are still family, okay?" Gavin treasured that wonderful day. The boy had called him dad. Lunch was fun. They went and watched surfers at Crystal Cove and laughed at some of their antics.

PART 4 COMING: THE FIRE AND THE LION