Chapter 10

It was around two o'clock in the morning before some people began leaving Eleanor Ford and Nelson Zuckerberg engagement party. Including, Walt Whitman, her neighbor who live across the street from her. While many others, too drunk to drive themselves home, decided on crashing on the fluffy white carpet spread-out on the floor which Nelson had anxiously bought to be a part of the decorating scheme for the room.

Walt Whitman was on the front porch where he had spent most of the night while the majority of persons at the party were inside the house eating, dancing and extending their congratulations to newly engaged couple. And also getting acquainted with other strangers, hoping their connection would lead them to forming new and lasting friendships. And just after Eleanor and Nelson had stood in the center of her living room, thanked everyone for coming to their engagement party, Walt Whitman hastily beckon to Eleanor with his hand, for her to come on the front porch and speak with him for a few seconds.

Excusing herself from beside Nelson's side, Eleanor responded to his call and walked to the front porch to find out from him what was so urgent that he had to speak to her right now.

Standing in front of him, gazing into his eyes, Eleanor pleasantly asked.

"What is it, Walt?"

"It's nothing very serious! I just want you to know that you're looking very, very beautiful tonight; in this dazzling red dress and new hair color!"

Walt Whitman complimented.

"Well, I thank you, very much for noticing!"

Eleanor replied.

"You're very welcome, Miss hotty-hotty!"

Walt Whitman spoke flirtingly.

"I can bet, your significant other over there, haven't even noticed that you're sporting a new hair color and a brand new dress that's hugging your hips like a kitten hugging its mama!"

Walt continued on flirtatiously.

Realizing what she was up against, Eleanor blurted out.

"He damn well took notice because he had paid for it!"

"Well, I must say, the guy really has good taste, and that's for sure!"

Walt spoke teasingly, however, honestly.

"You know what, Walt, I think you should go across the street and get inside your house right now; because I think you are drunk!"

Eleanor yelled at him and began stepping away from him.

But still, eager to speak with her, Walt Whitman shouted.

"Eleanor, Eleanor, you know damn well that I'm not drunk! Who the hell, do you know who can hold down their liquor more than me? Isn't my house full with all sorts of wine, and yet still, you have never ever seen me tipsy or going around the place like a lunatic?"

Ignoring his questions Eleanor asked.

"Where is Marx; where is your son, Walt?"

"I don't know where he is at the moment, we came here together and then, he just disappear from my sight!"

Walt responded with little concern.

"And since he had disappeared you haven't tried searching for him?"

Eleanor asked sternly but worryingly.

"He knows his house and he knows where is bedroom is! He doesn't really need me for that!"

Walt Whitman fired back uncaringly.

Immediately, Eleanor walked away from him and entered her living room where she told Nelson that she was searching the house for Marx; because his father had no clue of where he might be at the moment. But after looking through all three bed rooms, the den and her basement, she saw no sign of him.

She knew that the Whitman's front door was never usually locked with the keys and so she dash across the street, walked up to the front door of the Whitman's house and opened it. Moments later, she was rushing to Marx Whitman's bedroom, desperately hoping that he would be there fast asleep; but his bedroom door was shut. Which was never the custom in their house. In seconds, Eleanor reached for the doorknob, turned it, and then opened the door. Swiftly, she entered the room where she saw Marx Whitman balled up in the corner of his bed, clutching his feet with both hands and timidly weeping.

Immediately, she extended her hands towards him, and he reached for hers, in the same manner as soon as she entered his room and sat on his bed.

For a moment, she just sat there, without saying a word, while his tiny arms latched around her neck, as if, she was his real mother. A real mother who had terribly missed because she had been away from him for a very long time and was just returning home to be with her family. On her shoulders he continued to sob as spurs of short he-cups burst fort repeatedly, displaying to her that he was badly hurting, and had been crying for a very long time.

"Shhh!!! Shhhh!!! Shhhh!!!!"

She spoke comfortingly while rocking Marx on her shoulders.

Soon, he had stopped sobbing and so Ms. Eleanor asked.

"Marx dear, why are you crying like this... what has been upsetting you?"

Wiping his nose with his pajama sleeves, Marx timidly replied.

"Mr. Nelson is taking you away from me and my dad!"

"No my son, Mr. Nelson is not taking me away from you, we are only making a commitment to each other, so he can take care of me and I will do the same thing for him. And I know your father will find someone whom he loves very much that will take care of him and you. And you all will become one big happy family. You're father doesn't want that kind of relationship with me, he prefer to have it with someone else, and I'm unable to let him do otherwise. But I'll still be around for you, and you are free to come by the house any time you want to; okay!"

Ms. Eleanor explained to the five-year-old boy; just shy of being six; whom she had grown to love as her own, and who thought she was the best choice for his father to settle down with.

Not quite fully understanding the complex, decisive and indecisive characteristics of being an adult.

She knew, for him to fall asleep soon, she would have to give him something nice and cold to drink, so Ms. Eleanor asked.

"Would you like me to get you some apple juice or water?"

Eyes red from weeping for hours, Marx looked up at her and nodded, indicating to her that he wanted something cold to drink.

Making her way to the kitchen, Ms. Eleanor got Marx's drinking glass, pour the apple juice inside of it and brought it back to his bedroom and handed it to him. But on her way back to the child's bedroom, she could hear the front door giving off a cracking sound as if, someone was ready to enter the house. She presumed it was his father, Walt Whitman, who was finally making his way home from her engagement party; drunk as a sailor.

So she continued to Marx's room with the glass of apple juice in her hand where she handed it to him and then tucked him into bed after he had placed the drinking glass on his night stand, and stated that he had had enough.

Few minutes later, he was bopping his eyes, until he was off, fast asleep!

Smilingly, Ms. Eleanor leaned over the bed, kissed his soft velvet skin and then began making her way out of his bedroom with the intention of crossing the street and returning to her house. But as she turned the corner leading away from Marx's bedroom, she saw Walt Whitman standing at the front door, as if, he was standing guard to a correctional facility.

Aware that he was intoxicated, she approached him cautiously. Repeatedly telling him to remove himself from in the front door, but he wouldn't budge.

As she, try pushing him out of the way, Walt Whitman snatch his fingers around her wrist and held onto her hand tightly.

"Let go off my hand!"

Eleanor screamed and shouted repeatedly while yanking away from his grip.

Soon they began tussling and fighting; he try getting between her legs while she resisting him from doing so. She was fighting him with all the strength she got while he try ripping at her dress as he blurted out.

"All these years, you chasing me down like a greyhound bus, claiming that you love me and want me, and now I'm giving myself to you, you're rejecting me! Come on, and take me now!

"No!!!! You will never have me!"

Eleanor lashed out thunderously as she slapped his face again and again with her hands until his skin became red as crimsons.

She desperately wanted to make her way to the kitchen and grab that pressure cooker cover and whack him over the head with it. She knew that would fix him; but now he was pinning her down from behind, restraining her hands from having any movement.

But soon she figured, if she raised her shoulders, that would bring his hands exactly to her mouth, and so she did. And when she had done so, she bit him so hard and wouldn't let go until he had loosen his grip from around her.

Now she was almost mama cannibal, as she stood there, holding a piece of Walt Whitman's flesh between her teeth, breathing out of breath, like Xenia the warrior princess, ready to go at him again, if he had ever come any closer and attack her.

Standing there, looking wacky with the piece of flesh still between her teeth, and her brand new dress all thrown to pieces, Eleanor, quickly spit the piece of raw meat from her mouth on the floor. While she wildly gazed over at Walt Whitman on the floor bundled up in pain. It was her moment of freedom... of getting out of there and so she stepped towards the front door as he sat there, tightly gripping onto his hand and crying out for help.

Eleanor opening the front door; swiftly wiped away whatever blood residue that was remaining on her lips, walked across the street, and then back to her house without a scratch.

Majority of the guest, had already left for the night, and who were still there were knocked out on the carpet fast asleep, except for Nelson, who was worryingly pounding with fear as he paced the floors of Eleanor's house waiting for her to return to him.

Seeing her looking ruffled like a ragdoll and the band new dress that he had bought for her torn to pieces, Nelson blurted out.

"Eleanor, why on earth, do you have to go over there and sleep with the jerk on the night of our engagement? If sex was what you wanted, I would have given that to you! I will never forgive you for this, never!"

Racing towards him, trying to explain to him that nothing sexually had actually happened between the both of them; between her and Walt Whitman, but Nelson Zuckerberg was too furious and shouted at her.

"Get away from me, you evil, wicked and ungrateful slut! How can you possible go out and sleep with another man on the night of our engagement party, you heartless bitch? Are you that crazy for sex or you delusional? What kind of a sick person does something like that to another; to a man who loves them?"

It was their first fight ever, and he had never stopped once, to hear her side of the story, and it pained her heart to know that she had just brutally fought off the man she loved for many years only to return home to her engaged spouse, slaughtering her with vicious accusations of her sleeping with another man after he had just proposed to her and she had just vowed that she would marry him.

Hurting, angry and frustrated, Eleanor began screaming very loudly; "I said I didn't sleep with him! You haven't even given me a chance to explain and let you know that I haven't slept with him!" as she threw one of her large expensive crystal lamps against the kitchen wall bringing a crashing sound as the splinters splattered all over the kitchen counters and onto the floors.

Bringing about a startling reaction from Nelson Zuckerberg that he began looking for his car keys and ready to bolt away from the house. But he could find his car keys, and instead, run for the front gate hoping that she wouldn't come after him there. And there he saw Walt Whitman front door wide open and woundingly making his way across the street slurping with his words while shouting.

"Leave her the hell alone, you hear me! Leave her the hell alone hoggish womanizer!"

Frantic, confused and agitated, Nelson fired back.

"The both of you want to sleep together, and then turn around and gang-up on me, at my expense, because of your unscrupulous miss deeds and selfishness?"

"I should just remain here like a lamb... be silent while the both of you get it going on in the bed, sofa or wherever else you felt like doing it? Why didn't you buy her a ring, throw her an engagement party? Why didn't you ask her to marry you; you demonic brother of the devil?"

Nelson went on venting.

"Why don't you, shut your hell up?"

Walt Whitman blurted out.

"I don't have a hell to shut-up because you have the damn keys! Nelson fired back.

"Eleanor and I, did not get into any sack together or did anything sexual like you are accusing her of... yes, I made a past at her, but she wasn't up for it, oaky! So don't blame her for anything, blame me! If you want to fight, pick a fight with me, so I can whoop your ass!"

Walt Whitman suggested heatedly.

"Nothing happened between the both of you, and I should just sit here and accept that confession like I'm the priest in a confessional booth while she comes over from your house with her dress split here, thorn there, and has tattering all over it! As if, she was being attacked by a pack of wild dogs out in the forest! I must be Nelson Zuckerberg the biggest idiot in town, right!"

Nelson expressed angrily.

But he heard the door cracked open behind him, and turned around only to find Eleanor standing there sobbing, and wiping her eyes as she spoke.

"You are no idiot nowhere, anywhere or at any time! You are a very good man in my eyes, and not because this jackass standing there wants you to think otherwise you should ever believe him!"

Eleanor emotionally expressed to her fiancée.

Turning to Walt Whitman she asked sternly.

"What if I should call the police and get them involved, what would be the outcome of you and your son, who is sleeping comfortably in his bedroom right now over there? Do you really want to have that disrupted?"

Realizing that she might not take this situation lightly and bring the matter into the hands of the law, Walt Whitman began pleading with Eleanor to please forgive him, because his attack on her was only a mistake because he had too much to drink. But he certainly didn't meant to hurt her and wouldn't purposely done so to her, if he was actually sober or in his right mind.

"How can you attack me when I have been so good to you and your son? I have saved your life time and time again, be there for you while you laid up in the hospital on your back, and yet still, you try to assault me and degrade me on the night of my engagement?"

"Have you no conscience, have you no shame?"

Eleanor exclaimed with great hostility in her voice.

"I'm very, very sorry Eleanor, trust me, I am! Please, forgive me, I beg of you?"

Walt Whitman pleaded.

Seeing the beautiful woman he had just gotten engaged to; very upset, standing firmly and fighting for her dignity which had just been disconcerted – ruffled by her neighbor next door, Nelson turned to Walt Whitman and began driving him away from in front the gates of his fiancée house like he was a vagabond disturbing the peace of the community.

But in Nelson ranting and raging, and grotesque confrontation with her neighbor, Mr. Whitman, Eleanor allowed him to bring shame and embarrassment to him; the father of the little boy whom she adored and loved for many years. And when he was done cursing, swearing and belittling the character of the man she had spent many years, day dreaming about.

Eleanor, turned to Nelson and asked.

"Why have you doubted me?"

"I told you the truth, yet still, you accuse me of sleeping with my neighbor from next door! Where is the trust and unconditional love you say you have for me; that you couldn't spear a moment just to hear my side of the story before totally accusing me of sleeping with another man? And I'm supposed to be the heartless bitch?"

Eleanor continued venting.

Soon, Nelson too began apologizing to her and began begging for her to pardon him.

Giving him a hard cold stare, Eleanor turned to her fiancée and said.

"You better be the one, taking him to the hospital this time around, because it certainly will never be me again!"

Ignoring her statement, Nelson began making his way back to the inside of her house, causing Eleanor to demandingly ask.

"Where do you think you are you going?"

"I'm going to bed, that's where I'm going!"

Nelson replied.

"Well my neighbor is bleeding from the wound where I had bitten him and he needs medical attention immediately! And if you don't take him, then I'll will have to take him, so, please make up your mind right now and let me know what you prefer doing about the situation!"

Eleanor spoke sternly.

"I'm not taking him anywhere! Let his ass stay there and suffer until he passes out on the ground and die!"

Nelson divulged angrily.

Instantly, Eleanor returned to the house and grabbed her handbag, made her way to Walt Whitman's house, and snatched his car keys from the side table just before entering the living room. Soon, she was pulling Walt Whitman's car out of his garage and backing it up at her gate and telling him to get in.

Hearing the car engine repeatedly revving, Nelson was completely dumbstruck... extremely astonished! He just couldn't believe what she was about to do for the man who had just assaulted her. And so he raced back to the living room, swung open the front door, and made his way out onto the street shouting for her to stop and wait for him as she began making her way down Hillcrest Drive.

Pressing her feet on the breaks, Nelson ran to the car and jumped inside the back seat as he blurted out.

"I'm not leaving you alone with this culprit ever again; so he can come up with another idea of getting you in the sack!"

Still, with all the controversy and conflict between them, it was Nelson Zuckerberg who made mention of Marx being left in the house alone; and ask Eleanor to return to the house and retrieve him. Because, there is no reason why a child should be left in a large house like that all by himself and awake to find no one around him. Eleanor, totally agreeing with her fiancée, turned the car around and told Nelson to run inside the house and snatch Marx off his bed along with his blankets; so he could comfortably continue his sleep while they waited for his father to be treated by a nurse or doctor at the hospital.

Just after that mission was accomplished, all four were speeding down Hillcrest Drive, in the early hours of the morning, rushing to the hospital so the massive wound on Walt Whitman right hand could be medically treated.

Within five minutes of waiting in the emergency room, he was lucky to be seen by one of the doctors on staff. And when asked what had bitten him, Walt Whitman told the doctor that a very big dog had bit him and ripped his flesh apart.

"These teeth marks are very massive for a dog bite!"

The doctor spoke observing the wound.

But being very aware of who Walt Whitman was and the large contributions he had recently made in assisting one of the pediatric patient who had been sexually assaulted at the hospital. The doctor felt that he must have very good reasons for hiding the truth, especially now that he was extremely popular and well-known to the public eye; because of the donations he had made to assist the young girl.

So the doctor cleansed his wounded and stitched it, bandage it, gave him a penicillin shot and then happily sent him on his way.

However, it was three long weeks before there were any true signs of healing taking place on Walt Whitman's right hand. While he continuously remain with his marathon of apologies to Eleanor, because everywhere he saw her, he couldn't do without opening his mouth, and starting apologizing to her for what he had done.

Nevertheless, three months had come and passed, and Eleanor and Nelson found resolutions in handling most of their differences and continued with their decision to walk down the aisle and tie the knot.

And he too spent months begging Eleanor for forgiveness since he had blatantly accused her of sleeping with Walt Whitman on the night of their engagement party. He was feeling horribly about his deeds of wrongly accusing her, and worst of all, he wasn't interested in anything she had to say when she tried telling him the truth.

Sincerely, he wanted to make it up to her before their wedding day and so he bought her tons of flowers, but to top all of that, he went out and bought her a brand new BMW vehicle with a television installed inside of it, surround system and a build-in handless telephone. And now she was riding high in style and loving every moment of it

It was in the last week of December, in the hype of the holiday rush and busyness of the Christmas season, that they decided to tie the knot. And certainly on their wedding day it was absolutely beautiful with Nelson Zuckerberg dragging out all the bells and whistles to make certain that their wedding day would be extraordinarily special.

And even though Walt Whitman and Eleanor had lost their nice bond of loving friendship, she had invited him and asked that his son Marx be the ring bearer at her wedding. Because it was he and her who were strolling along the waters of Prospect Beach together when they had met Nelson Zuckerberg and exchanged words with him.

Mid-day on the thirty-first day of December, Eleanor and Nelson Zuckerberg walked down the aisle of the church and became one; as she slowly stroll down the corridor in of the church wearing an everlasting long train on her head, long enough that it could have made three queen-size bed spreads.

Still trying very hard to obtain her forgiveness and something much more, Walt Whitman gave Eleanor a wedding present which had her dumbfounded, dumbstruck, and discombobulated all at the same time. And instantly she knew from it that whatever children she brought into the world, she and them would never have lack for at least the next ten generations.

But, would Walt Whitman ever take the same leap of fate as Eleanor did?

Eleanor's wedding reception was filled with numerous amounts of attractions and acts of entertainment, and throughout the entire night, Walt Whitman just sat there after having his first meal at the reception party. Not wanting to drink too much of anything strong, fearing he might get drunk once again and make the same mistake just like he had done with Eleanor on the night of her engagement party.

And while seated around one of the tables in the hotel reception hall, by himself, he thought about Antsy-Ann Williams, hoping that she could have been there with him.

He had invited her, but she told him she was unable to commit to the invitation because she hadn't found anyone reliable to sit with her children at them time.

His feelings for her were slowly growing, because he was having Eleanor on his mind constantly. He just couldn't get the picture of her out of his head, wearing that gorgeous red dress she wore at her engagement party, and now the same thing with her wedding dress; he was visualizing her wearing them while with him.

To him, she was no longer looking like his neighbor next door, but like some grand popular beauty whom many fantasied about being with. Her transformation had brought out the best in her and now she was looking like the goddess he dreamt of having beside him in his life.

Walt Whitman was thinking that his son was very right about Eleanor being the right woman for him. But now it was too late for him, and neither did he want to complicate things in her life any more than he had already done earlier on, trying to wreck her engagement to Nelson.

Especially, now that she had found a man who was treating her very well, had put a wedding ring on her finger, giving her the life she deserves and who was also very good for her.

And in his secret moments, locked away in his thoughts, Walt Whitman wondered if there was any chance with him and Eleanor ever being together; but it was a question he could only entertained in his head, because he already knew the answer for that question.

He had showered her with nice change of over a cool million dollars as her wedding present, tantalizing her and hoping that his money would jolt her mind, in finding her way back to him. But he had purposefully pushed her away repeatedly, regardless of all she had done for him. Oftentimes crushing her spirit, her emotions and all that she was hoping to acquire from him, loving her back.

But now, Eleanor was emotionally, matrimonially and permanently locked away in the strong arms of another man who was just as wealthy and powerful as he was and he dear not venture there.

He now began turning all his focus towards Antsy-Ann Williams and all the children who were willed into her care, so Walt Whitman pleaded with her to marry him six months later after courting her, dragging her with him to almost everywhere he went.

Constantly having her and her children by his house for dinner and integrating her children with his son Marx. And after realizing that he has been nothing but wonderfully good to her and her children, Antsy-Ann, finally told him. "Yes!"

It was a "Yes!" he had happily appreciated, and Antsy-Ann being an almost physical replica of Annie-fay now presently in his life, the memory of Eleanor became a fast blur to Walt Whitman's mind and would only resurface when his son Marx had mentioned her name in the house.

Just five months after having his grand engagement blast, Walt and Antsy-Ann had their beautiful ceremony, celebrating the swearing in of their nuptials.

Finally, becoming as one, their love for each other were like raging tornadoes, erupting with passion by the minute, but would it soon dwindle, diminish and die like the flaring desert dusts which would soon settle and rest after the storm becomes quite calm?

The End