The first installment...
I know it is a slow start....but you have to start somewhere. :)
Any comments are welcome. It appears that the format isn't very well preserved from MS Word to LJ. I think it may make this a little hard to read...maybe I will have to see what I can do about that...any ideas anyone...RTF or plain text make a difference?
Star Dreams
-P. Cranston LaMont
Jillian Barton loves to teach, but more than that she loves to learn and discover. Her life’s work is geared in that direction. Anyone can learn English or History or Biology, but to learn Astrophysics is a horse of a different color. All those other subjects deal with those things that are proven, or known, or things that have always been. Astrophysics is a relative unknown and infant in the academic world. As much as we know about it, there is a cosmos full of things that we still “think” and “suspect” and theorize about. The trick is being able to bring it into the realm of those other disciplines and prove something is the way you have hypothesized it.
Professorship, here at Southwestern University came quickly, but not unexpectedly. Undergrad degree in Physics by 20, Ph.D. in Astrophysics at MIT by 23, three years as Research Coordinator here at Southwestern and now at 26, Associate Professor with a big house and lots of relaxing to do.
The soothing sounds of Vivaldi fill the room. Jillian Barton sits in a gigantic antique, brown leather chair, which was part of the old Victorian house when she bought it four years ago, relaxing after a tough day of classes. The students in her Astrophysics class always wear her out. They are so smart, they challenge her at every opportunity, and she loves it. They all, almost to a person, remind her of herself a few years ago. The theories presented and the challenges to conventional wisdom issued during the course of a single 3-hour seminar class were amazing. The posture that she has adopted during that class, always being on her toes, has become normal for her. These moments of quiet, peaceful relaxation with a cup of herbal tea have grown to be her daily escape and reenergizing ritual. The chair enveloping her, eyes closed feeling the music, legs dangling over the left arm, her teacup rests on the center button of the equally gigantic ottoman, just within reach of her right hand.
The harsh tone of the phone breaks the silence. Startled, Jillian swings her legs around and quickly makes her way to the desk. “Hello”.
“Jillian?” questions the voice from the receiver.
“This is she”.
The voice is familiar but there is no particular face coming to mind to go along with it.
“Jillian, this is Robert Milton, your father’s attorney in Pine Ridge. I am afraid I have some bad news for you.”
“Is it Daddy?”
“Yes, I am afraid it is. He passed away suddenly today. It looks like he had a massive heart attack.”
Her thoughts begin to race, her emotions taking over and her analytical mind kicks into gear as she begins to assess the news.
“What happened? What was he doing? Where was he? Where is he now? I just talked to him on Saturday, he was fine.”
“Slow down Jillian, slow down. He was apparently teaching his class, and had gotten out of his chair to illustrate something for the class, grabbed his chest and collapsed to the floor. By all accounts, three students reached him within seconds of his collapse and he was not breathing, had no pulse and they began CPR immediately. One of the other students in the class called 911 and the Emergency staff from the University were there in a matter of just a couple of minutes, but he was gone, Jillian. There was nothing they could do. He has been taken to Meiler-Masters Funeral Home here is Pine Ridge and will wait to hear from you about arrangements. I need you to be in Pine Ridge in the morning. “
Jillian was silent. The information was soaking in. “Jillian? Did you hear me? I need you here in the morning.”
“Y-yes, of course, Mr. Milton, I will catch the next flight back east. I don’t really know when I will be there though….”
“ I have already made arrangements for you to fly out of Phoenix, you have a 9:15 flight to Philadelphia tonight. I will be there to meet you at the airport. You do remember me, don’t you, Jillian?”
“Of course I remember you Mr. Milton…”
“Robert or Bob, please. We will be spending a lot of time together over the next several days. Besides, you are not a little girl anymore, Dr. Barton.”
“ I will have to get packed and notify my chairman and my secretary so that my schedule can be rearranged. It is about an hour and a half to Phoenix airport, so I have to get moving. Thank you for the call, Mr. Milt…Bob. I will see you at the airport in Philly…what time?”
“The flight is scheduled to arrive at around 4AM Eastern Time. I know it will be difficult, but there is a nice comfortable bed on the charter, you should try to get some sleep on the way.”
“Charter?? Why do I need a charter flight?”
“It was the way you dad wanted it. That is my job, as his attorney and best friend, I want everything the way he wanted it. Corporate Flyers terminal, Frank Wilson will be your pilot. I will see you in Philadelphia.”
“O.K. Bob, I will see you there.”
The numbness of such sudden news settles over Jillian as she ascends the stairs to her room to pack her things. Thoughts of her dad and the experiences that they shared as she grew up flood her mind. Memories of how he looked and things he said while she visited last, too long ago, surface as she reaches for the phone to call Sharon to clear her calendar for the next week and make sure that she notifies Dr. Fuller, her department chairperson, of the untimely news.
Suddenly tears well up in Jillian’s eyes, as the realization that she is packing her bags to bury her father presents itself. As she wipes her eyes for what seems like the thousandth time, she actually sees the large red numbers on her alarm clock. “Jesus!” she exclaims, “It’s almost 7. Get it together Jill. Dad is waiting”.
Any comments are welcome. It appears that the format isn't very well preserved from MS Word to LJ. I think it may make this a little hard to read...maybe I will have to see what I can do about that...any ideas anyone...RTF or plain text make a difference?
Star Dreams
-P. Cranston LaMont
Jillian Barton loves to teach, but more than that she loves to learn and discover. Her life’s work is geared in that direction. Anyone can learn English or History or Biology, but to learn Astrophysics is a horse of a different color. All those other subjects deal with those things that are proven, or known, or things that have always been. Astrophysics is a relative unknown and infant in the academic world. As much as we know about it, there is a cosmos full of things that we still “think” and “suspect” and theorize about. The trick is being able to bring it into the realm of those other disciplines and prove something is the way you have hypothesized it.
Professorship, here at Southwestern University came quickly, but not unexpectedly. Undergrad degree in Physics by 20, Ph.D. in Astrophysics at MIT by 23, three years as Research Coordinator here at Southwestern and now at 26, Associate Professor with a big house and lots of relaxing to do.
The soothing sounds of Vivaldi fill the room. Jillian Barton sits in a gigantic antique, brown leather chair, which was part of the old Victorian house when she bought it four years ago, relaxing after a tough day of classes. The students in her Astrophysics class always wear her out. They are so smart, they challenge her at every opportunity, and she loves it. They all, almost to a person, remind her of herself a few years ago. The theories presented and the challenges to conventional wisdom issued during the course of a single 3-hour seminar class were amazing. The posture that she has adopted during that class, always being on her toes, has become normal for her. These moments of quiet, peaceful relaxation with a cup of herbal tea have grown to be her daily escape and reenergizing ritual. The chair enveloping her, eyes closed feeling the music, legs dangling over the left arm, her teacup rests on the center button of the equally gigantic ottoman, just within reach of her right hand.
The harsh tone of the phone breaks the silence. Startled, Jillian swings her legs around and quickly makes her way to the desk. “Hello”.
“Jillian?” questions the voice from the receiver.
“This is she”.
The voice is familiar but there is no particular face coming to mind to go along with it.
“Jillian, this is Robert Milton, your father’s attorney in Pine Ridge. I am afraid I have some bad news for you.”
“Is it Daddy?”
“Yes, I am afraid it is. He passed away suddenly today. It looks like he had a massive heart attack.”
Her thoughts begin to race, her emotions taking over and her analytical mind kicks into gear as she begins to assess the news.
“What happened? What was he doing? Where was he? Where is he now? I just talked to him on Saturday, he was fine.”
“Slow down Jillian, slow down. He was apparently teaching his class, and had gotten out of his chair to illustrate something for the class, grabbed his chest and collapsed to the floor. By all accounts, three students reached him within seconds of his collapse and he was not breathing, had no pulse and they began CPR immediately. One of the other students in the class called 911 and the Emergency staff from the University were there in a matter of just a couple of minutes, but he was gone, Jillian. There was nothing they could do. He has been taken to Meiler-Masters Funeral Home here is Pine Ridge and will wait to hear from you about arrangements. I need you to be in Pine Ridge in the morning. “
Jillian was silent. The information was soaking in. “Jillian? Did you hear me? I need you here in the morning.”
“Y-yes, of course, Mr. Milton, I will catch the next flight back east. I don’t really know when I will be there though….”
“ I have already made arrangements for you to fly out of Phoenix, you have a 9:15 flight to Philadelphia tonight. I will be there to meet you at the airport. You do remember me, don’t you, Jillian?”
“Of course I remember you Mr. Milton…”
“Robert or Bob, please. We will be spending a lot of time together over the next several days. Besides, you are not a little girl anymore, Dr. Barton.”
“ I will have to get packed and notify my chairman and my secretary so that my schedule can be rearranged. It is about an hour and a half to Phoenix airport, so I have to get moving. Thank you for the call, Mr. Milt…Bob. I will see you at the airport in Philly…what time?”
“The flight is scheduled to arrive at around 4AM Eastern Time. I know it will be difficult, but there is a nice comfortable bed on the charter, you should try to get some sleep on the way.”
“Charter?? Why do I need a charter flight?”
“It was the way you dad wanted it. That is my job, as his attorney and best friend, I want everything the way he wanted it. Corporate Flyers terminal, Frank Wilson will be your pilot. I will see you in Philadelphia.”
“O.K. Bob, I will see you there.”
The numbness of such sudden news settles over Jillian as she ascends the stairs to her room to pack her things. Thoughts of her dad and the experiences that they shared as she grew up flood her mind. Memories of how he looked and things he said while she visited last, too long ago, surface as she reaches for the phone to call Sharon to clear her calendar for the next week and make sure that she notifies Dr. Fuller, her department chairperson, of the untimely news.
Suddenly tears well up in Jillian’s eyes, as the realization that she is packing her bags to bury her father presents itself. As she wipes her eyes for what seems like the thousandth time, she actually sees the large red numbers on her alarm clock. “Jesus!” she exclaims, “It’s almost 7. Get it together Jill. Dad is waiting”.