“He is the best man who, when making his plans, fears and reflects on everything that can happen to him, but in the moment of action is bold.”
--Herodotus
The two men sat quietly for a while, each in their own thoughts. The older man, chuckled to himself over his gradually slipping into humor more and more these days. The younger man carefully attempted to incorporate this new world scheme into a workable framework in his mind. It was then the elder of the two, picked up the discussion, once more.
“It will be beneficial, at this point, to expand upon this vision by explaining to you the inner expression of an octave. 'As above, so below,' may be turned on its head and read the other way round as well, and that is precisely what we can see in the world within our arena of observation. Fractals. A leaf is the model of the tree from which it arises, a snowflake's shape and structure are mirrored by its own construction of ever increasing patterns of its smallest connections, and the examples are endless. This fractalization is the result of what may be found in the mathematical construction of the model we are investigating. Remember an octave's nature is to double and halve, if we look at its own inner assembly we notice a curious thing, it doubles and halves within the course of its own gamut. An eighth becomes a quarter, becomes a half, becomes the whole, or in a descending pattern of whole to half, to quarter, to eighth.”
The young man volunteered his own observation at this, “Actually, when you first mentioned the doubling and halving, I thought... what you just described, was what you were referring to all along. That took me a while to sort out. We're on the same page, now.”
“Good, good, I'm glad to have as little confusion in our discussions as possible.” Then he continued, “This inner halving, or doubling, is precisely what gives rise to the fractal phenomenon. Which, when carried to its logical conclusion, will yield this: Take an all-to-nothing octave of an immense length. Inside of it, so to speak, three more octaves come into existence, unique to it alone. An octave from the top DO down to SOL, whole to half. An octave from SOL down to MI, half to quarter. And an octave from MI down a little to RE, a quarter to an eighth. Three inner octaves which provide an inner framework for the whole. Yet the story doesn't end there for within each of those three, three more octaves come into existence and provide an inner scaffolding for each of those. Now we can find, therefore, nine octaves standing at this next level. For our own purposes, in order to keep these ever fractalling series of groups of octaves clear to us, and for easier reference, let's call the initial all-to-nothing octave: Scale Zero, the next two created: Scale One, and Scale Two.”
“That is very useful. I was just about to scramble my brains over this, thank you. This is much neater. Categories of diminishing reflections of the whole: fractals. Got it. Please continue.” The young man enjoyed keeping things clearly delineated, and he was now warming to the new information.
“Very well. One octave gives birth to three, which in turn yield nine. Those nine, you can see where this is going I'm sure, give birth to their own inner octaves. So now there are twenty-seven more. If required this can go on ad infinitum and never truly end, at least according to the postulated maxims of Zeno of Thrace who proposed that if you continue to halve the distance between yourself and your destination you will never arrive at your destination... always having halfway more to go. He was an apologist defending Pythagorus, however some of his arguments weren't as helpful as others. Anyway, this is the genesis of the fractal nature of nature itself. As above, so below.”
The young man was satisfied with this and appreciated his guest making it an accessible concept for him. Yet there was a previous discussion which had not been so accessible and he very much wished to have it all clear in his head before going any further. “Back when you explained that ancient mathematical symbol which explains the structure behind everything, and we are not to that grand claim yet so far as I can see, you did not make clear to me how that symbol, which presented even sevenths and even thirds could be a true reflection of the octave we know. A diatonic progression.”
“Alright but you must realize that the translation from even to diatonic and how it can be intelligibly perceived is the life work and Reason of a Master. So it is to him that we owe this explanation.” He paused to be sure his host fully appreciated that they were standing upon the shoulders of giants.
“Remember, three forces equal and separate can only occupy, for the purposes of a two-dimensional diagram, the extremities of an equilateral triangle. This is not so very different than in other dimensions, including the linear ascent or descent of an octave model. Always even thirds. So how then is the symbol, reflecting the primordial 'law of seven,' to become in our world the diatonic 'law of octaves' which includes this equi-distanced arrangement of forces where its purer cousin does not? A change was made in the law of seven. It was described in fragments by very ancient sources indeed and then re-presented, still in its fragmentary form, by a predecessor of this same venerable master. It is the evidence of a bold stroke of outstanding reason which, among other matters, separates this most respected master from all who came before him. He made this change, once only known in fragments, clear and accessible to all.
“It is thus: the fabric of the universe, the medium in which the separated forces have their existence, could never allow for their reunification. That is to say, the pattern of forces could not align with the pattern of the fabric predicated as it was upon the primordial law of seven. The fabric of the law of seven had to have been stretched and rumpled in order to become the diatonic law of octaves with which we are familiar here in our own universe. During this alteration certain of the resonant vibrations within the seven's series came into contact, once and for all time to come, with the separated forces at one third and two thirds, one of the trio having already from the outset retained its original contact with the series; our DO, if you will. The resultant stretch and rumple brought FA and LA into contact with the those other lonely forces so that through the progress of a now diatonic ascension and descension of any octave, having its existence among other octaves of similar nature, the forces could at last realize the imperative of their separation, i.e. To reunite.”
“For a more complete description of this phenomenal story you would be better served to read that master's own writings in his words. No does that help to clarify your conundrum and resolve it?”
The younger man was still trying to wrap his mind around the vastness of the scenario presented and the myriad implications which were rising like froth in his thoughts. “Uh, let me read and re-read my notes. I can perhaps get a handle on it if I work out the situation on paper for myself.” He began to lay out the general outline for his investigations, and the elder man sat quietly until his host at last sighed and seemed prepared to continue with their story.
He began again, now describing life at home after Harry's departure. “As you may recall, Harry did after all get that photograph of his family he so wished he'd had a photographer at hand to capture. That was naturally the work of Titania and Hipolyta who wished to document their apparent transformations for all time, and send that evidence along to Harry before he was gone from these shores.
They chose as the backdrop for the portrait the grand gateway into the Lodge's grounds. The photographer was roused to the commission that same morning on their return from the rail station in Truckee and the tearful sendoff. They kept a plate of the photograph for themselves and placed it on the mantle above the hearth at home. Belle and George were both pleased at the addition; representing to them the new advent of tradition that was soon to transform their family's own training for generations to come.
As with all good things and spells of happiness, into each a little rain must fall. And this occurred in their household as well; tragedy struck. Jameson's father was about his usual routine at the livery on as normal a day as any that passed in the little village. He was cleaning the hooves of a recently stabled mare ridden into town by an annual visitor at the opening of the summer season. He knew he should never have tended the horse while it was still in its stall, but whether out of hubris or carelessness, he was there. And it was there, that perhaps as a result of a leak in the roof and subsequent soakings from the late spring and early summer rains, the loft above the stalls, heavy with sodden fodder, gave way over the area in which he was working. The frightened mare instinctively bucked suddenly away from the falling structure and threw James into the rails between the stalls. The stallion in the adjoining stall was also terrorized. He reared and kicked at the barriers of his prison, and in the process crushed in the chest and skull of the faithful liveryman pinned to the railing by the mare. His body wasn't found until that afternoon and it was his own son who made the discovery, in the company of White Feathers and Titania who had accompanied him there for routine reasons having nothing to do with the stables at all.
The graveside service was held at the village cemetery soon after, and young Jameson walked away from the grave down the village streets to the stables and his home---an orphan. This dark cloud of anguish and misery was itself to have a silver lining. Titania and Hipolyta convinced their parents to take in the lad and situate him in Harry's old room off the workshop. It was White Feathers who had almost raised the lad himself from near infancy, who gave his own blessing to the arrangement and helped George and Belle passed any hint of trepidation they might have had over the lad. They didn't have any to begin with, but it wasn't their place to decide anyway, it was White Feathers's, and that was that.
This Summer Season was then a new chapter in the annals of Livingson Summers. White Feathers was no longer at George's disposal for impromptu 'store-tending.' He took it upon himself to maintain, for as long as he was able, the running of the stables. This responsibility assisted both the village which needed the service, and Jameson who would receive all profits from the continued enterprise as an investment in his future, wherever that might lead him. Titania then split her efforts between her duties at the Lodges and chores at the livery helping her Great-uncle when Jameson was in the kitchens. Hipolyta picked up her sister's slack, assisting Belle at the Lodges and in large part filled Harry's shoes left vacant at the hardware store. This left Jameson's life virtually unchanged, less the obvious catastrophic loss; he was able to continue in the kitchens of Mandy Hill's Restaurant and Tea Room and also keep up his own chores at the stable. Though now every morning and evening he awoke and retired in the Livingson home and under the aegis and instruction of George and Belle. Out of the ashes the phoenix rises.
Neither Hipolyta nor her sister resented, in the slightest, their new activities as many their age might easily have done. In fact it was, for them, glorious. The saying, 'those to whom much is given, much is expected' is actually an observation of reality not a cautionary injunction. Besides her other chores Hipolyta took over the management of the bookkeeping for the store and lodges with only the briefest apprenticeship. Like Harry before her, it was satisfying to her sense of wholeness, to balance ledgers and keep entries in neat and orderly columns and rows. So when her parents required a reference point for the re-supply, or a forecast of certain necessary amendments to their endeavors, Hipolyta's account books were accurate and up-to-date tools for those instances.
Hipolyta coached Titania through the account books' inner workings so that were it to become necessary she also would be able to step in at a moment's notice and serve as a most adequate surrogate bookkeeper. And for Titania's part, her assistance to White Feathers opened her eyes to the far reaching impact of a village's livery stable. The care of horses certainly, but the hired care of another person's property was in a different arena. Each animal had its own likes and dislikes to be sure, and each family that boarded their horses with the stable each had their own routines for the use of those animals. Then there were the livery's own stock to be managed, cared for and let out for hire. The livery's wagons, carriages and other vehicular assets had to be maintained for service. The Summer Season's tourist trade impacted the livery in every way, from the numbers of horses kept available rather than pastured and the space available for seasonal boarding, up to the obvious, that is: someone who knew both what they were doing and the current state of the livery to interact with the public at large. Titania gained a great respect for the late Mr. Connor and by default, Jameson, who had been raised to manage all this, and of course White Feathers who stepped in and made a go of it without a hiccup or pause.
Jameson was, by inherited nature, meticulous and thorough, both from his life in the livery and from having been under the tutelage of White Feathers near from birth. So in Mandy's kitchens he was a treasured asset. He always knew what the stores were, what was soon to be needed and how much. He knew where everything may be found and put hand to whether it was the everyday tools of the trade, or the paperwork for the administration of those activities. This latter facility was the result of having been given the responsibility of performing the daily ordering and planning based upon the restaurant's business load, the current menus, and the seasonal availability of supplies. Mandy could not have been more pleased and proud of her protege, whom she had originally taken on to handle odd jobs around the kitchen and to simply encourage his native cooking and baking talents. Jameson was so much more than she had initially bargained for, and after Mr. Connor's tragic passing she felt at liberty, at last, to compensate Jameson properly for the actual benefit he was to her enterprise.
There was a longstanding unwritten and therefore quite tacit understanding between all the Livingsons, natural or adopted, that when the Lodges required extra manpower, they each pitched in to help. Belle never over-indulged this resource. Actually, more often than not it was some other member, or collection of members of the family who had to insist upon stepping in and shouldering the unexpected burdens whenever necessary. An interesting example of this occurred almost as soon as Jameson had been moved into the house.
A runaway horse and carriage owned and operated by visiting tourists not a local villager, plowed through the fence and side yard of the Lodges' grounds one late July afternoon. It was always suspected that some of the local young hooligans had set off some fireworks, no doubt pilfered from the recent Independence Day celebrations, behind one of the village shops lining the Lakeside Road, and of course without any forethought to the consequences of their actions. The horses reared and bolted, taking their helpless driver and passengers careening into the fencing. By a great stroke of good fortune none of the people were seriously injured, but one of the horses broke its leg and had to be put down. Also fortunate was that none of the Livingsons nor their guests were in common transit along the path there. The carriage occupants were too shaken to help themselves, so it fell to George and Jameson, Belle, Titania and Hipolyta to send for the doctor, rescue the driver and passengers from their now very crumpled carriage, extricate the horses from their harnesses, right the nearly overturned carriage, remove the damaged carriage and still unhurt horse to the livery and lead away the injured horse. Then there was the damage to the fence the garden grounds and the few busted panels on the nearest bungalows. The family led the efforts and delegated where possible the necessary responses. Within a day or two it could not be determined that anything so misfortunate had occurred. That was the result of everyone in the family instantly heeding the call of their tacit responsibilities. Other instances of note came along from time to time, some less perilous than others, but always each was met with the singleness of direction, resolve and purpose the Livingsons brought to their every endeavor.
But all was not the fun and games so far described. There were also serious occasions over that summer as well, and the local young hooligans previously implicated were the instigating players in those dramas. As it happens, wherever humans congregate for the purpose of harmonious communal existence there are the bad apples. The August weather was not uncommonly intemperate in either warmth or chill, nor had there been any violent summer storms. Perhaps because of this, or any other contributions made from an unending range of factors, the incidence of petty crimes and destructive pranks rose to an all time high that season. The major institutions of the village's commerce and livelihood were spared, but the younger local residents were not. Jameson, Titania and Hipolyta fell into that latter category.
Titania was returning from the livery stables after putting out fodder and watering the resident beasts; Hipolyta was sitting in front of the Mercantile enjoying the evening breeze while finishing the weekly logs, and Jameson was soon to leave the kitchens for the day. It started innocently enough; most of the town's guests were at supper or were off on overnight excursions, so Main Street was nearly vacant. Titania stopped in front of a shop window to admire some newly displayed items. Two boys a bit older than herself were leaning against the narrow walls of an alleyway across the street sharing a cheroot, out of view from the disapproving eyes of their elders, and they mischievously took an uncharacteristic interest in her solitary idleness. They noiselessly approached thinking to surprise her and 'have some fun.' Titania wasn't so enamored of what she was perusing that she didn't notice their approaching figures in the reflection of the shop window, but not giving them much thought at first continued her inspection of the display. It wasn't until it appeared they were coming directly toward her that she turned and faced them thus spoiling their surprise and setting a whole series of events into motion.
The larger boy interposed himself between Titania and the shop window as she watched him carefully walk around her. She noticed in the window's reflection that the smaller kid was getting on his hands and knees behind her and so set up that old classic schoolyard prank.
“What could interest a mutt like you in a respectable shop like this?” said the boy in front of her and pushed her.
Titania wasn't unbalanced in the least. His fragile little ego couldn't abide his ineffectiveness at this, and so raised both his arms to push harder; which he did. Titania instantly dropped to a crouch and wasn't there when the force of his lunge sprang at her. He went headlong over his accomplice, off the edge of the boardwalk, and into the street carrying the smaller boy with him tangled in his feet. Hipolyta had just glanced up the street from her numbers when she saw the tumble. She saw her sister standing on the boardwalk; she closed the ledger, dropped it onto the bench, and sped toward her.
Other miscreants hidden in alleyways and nooks along the street, each hiding their own unapproved activities, had watched the failed prank and were now mindlessly streaming toward their 'captain,' preparing for the retribution of his mislaid 'honor.' As Hipolyta passed a blind alley to her right and was about to leap the last step to join her sister, two more of the young thugs emerged and cut off her path. Titania saw the commotion they made as they intimidated Hipolyta into that alley, and she tried to reach her sister even as other boys arrived to add to their numbers. Both girls were then being backed down the narrow alley cul de sac by Titania's initial knuckleheads and five other equally nefarious louts.
Jameson left the side door of the restaurant and had just made the street when he saw the stragglers rushing to the alley. Realizing this could not bode any good for anyone, he stayed on his side of the street trying to avoid any dustup with the surly group. He was level with the alley when out of sheer curiosity he looked over. Titania and Hipolyta were hidden by the clot of bodies blocking their escape route, but a moment of jostling gave Jameson an instant's glimpse of two small figures nearly with their backs to wall at the far end. He sprang across the road, and as he entered the threshold of the alley, shouted, “Hey, what's going on here?”
The booming, adult-sounding voice behind them gave the little mob a moment of frozen guilt.
“Jameson” the girls cried out together.
As soon as those nearest him turned and saw their inquisitor they laughed in relief. “Aw, it's just the horse boy turned kitchen boy!”
The others turned some of their attention to the interloper and jeered, “What do you want here 'horse boy'?” “Better not trip over your apron an' fall down... go boom, boom!” They laughed and howled at their own ideas of cleverness. Jameson held his ground and posture.
The bullies close to Titania and Hipolyta turned back to taunting there captives. “Aw, do the little mutts miss their playmate? Maybe they'd like a bone to make them all better?”
“I've got a bone for 'em right here,” one of them cried coarsely, and the rest giggled and laughed perversely as only those with malice and lust in their hearts can.
Jameson got there attention again, “If you wish, you may deal with me and have done with your sport. I promise I'll be far gentler with you than they will,” he said pointing his chin to the girls.
“What?!” came the disbelieving voice from the lead bully. “Buddy there're seven of us, since you obviously can't count,” more giggles and laughter, “besides you had better run on home and cozy up to a donkey or something before we squash all three of you just for giving me your lip. After we play around with the little mutt bitches.” He finished, with the others trying to sound equally as fierce.
Poor choices lead to sad consequences. Jameson advanced one stride at a time and walked straight through their numbers. Without clear direction and no spine of their own as individuals, they parted and let him pass.
The 'captain' laughed. “Are you an idiot? We've got you surrounded now, and I don't think I like interruptions.”
Jameson cooly answered, “This is your last chance. You should leave now before somebody really gets hurt.”
The mob didn't know if they should giggle or grunt. When the captain couldn't stand the insults any more he yelled, “Get 'em!”
The two on either side of Jameson reached to grab his arms while the 'captain' in front of him pulled back his fist for a mighty punch, aiming for his face. In the same instant Titania and Hipolyta sprang apart from where they had been clutching each other close; each hit the wall nearest her in a forward leap, pushed off the walls and sprang up over the remaining little crowd to land on the far side of them. Jameson pulled his arms to his side, pinning the hands of his 'captors' and dropped into a low crouch with his back straight so as not to dislodge them. The captain's intended blow therefore slammed into one of their faces with a yelp from the victim.
Jameson then leapt backward with his 'entourage,' slamming them into the wall behind them as Titania and Hipolyta simply spun in low arcs and toppled the four goofs facing them with wide-eyed stares. Un-tethered by his bruised and battered 'baggages,' Jameson then faced down the captain who alone was presently left standing among his minions.
“There is no reason this should go any further...” he began to say, but the older boy was momentarily blind and deaf with fury. He hadn't any instinct but to keep punching. Jameson dodged, grabbed his leading wrist, used the ruffian's own momentum to whirl him around and land him on the four goofs who were just trying to stand, causing them all to tumble into another pile. The two boys who had first grabbed his arms lost their appetite for the event and dodged by the girls to the safety of the street and ran off in different directions.
Jameson walked around the wriggling pile of boys who were actually unhurt but very confused, and joined the twins to stroll out of the alleyway. The bully captain regained enough presence to call after them inanely, “And don't come back or you'll get more of the same.”
Titania started to giggle; Hipolyta positively laughed out loud. Jameson rolled his eyes and said, “Yes sir, we won't.”
After Hipolyta returned the store ledger to the office and locked up, they were home for dinner as usual. The entire diversion, save the brief conversations with the locals, took as little time as window shopping.
As August wound into its last week the Village Council met to discuss a very pressing issue indeed. Unlike their usual topics for debate, the emergence of the random acts of pranks and such had forced their need for action.
“I won't have it. It is simply unacceptable,” the chairman said, “I can not bear to walk our fair streets on a given afternoon and overhear even long-time visitors say that his was 'once such a pleasant little town.'” He stared at his fellow council members, “Once! Ladies and Gentlemen, Once? It's outrageous. Before you can blink, word will spread and we all will be saying it---because our inns and hotels will go unoccupied, our stores will have to close their doors, and if this goes unchecked we shall each have to start locking our own doors at night!”
As with everything else that they had ever considered for action, they were only able to determine a financial impact to their businesses and so had to act. The relatively early evacuation of the this year's seasonal guests perhaps had some influence on their urgency. And there is something to be said for their point of view. However it was the children of these very same 'high-minded' folks who were the instigators of the acts which were smudging the village's reputation. Had their focus at some earlier times been upon the proper raising of those 'symbols of their future,' this current discussion would be moot. Instead it took this dire situation to affect their pocketbooks and bank accounts to impinge upon their own attentions. Quite anti-social, objectively speaking.
At any rate, they ranted on about 'the youth' as if the youth in question were some foreign agency infiltrating their kingdom, and not actually their own sons and daughters. They debated courses of action and adjourned after assigning committees to pursue investigation of the three solutions they had qualified as possible solutions from the outset two hours earlier. Then they ordered lunch.
Meanwhile the final carriages filled and headed for Truckee carrying the last of the summer's tourists home to hearth and kin in the distant cities and towns of their ordinary lives. Hipolyta and Belle opened all the bungalow windows, stripped the beds, and scrubbed the bathrooms for the last time that season. Titania and Jameson herded the horses not required for off-season commerce up into the pastures owned by the livery for this very purpose. George stored the remaining unsold inventory which had been ordered for the last season's latest rages. He made emendations to his logbooks which tracked the annual fads and rages as a reference for the future recurrence of any one of them. The store shelves were rearranged and the stock room shelves were put into order and he closed the front door for the day.
“Please let's read Harry's letters again,” pleaded Titania and Hipolyta after dinner that evening. Jameson nodded vigorously at the request and the others smiled in assent. The girls ran to their room and returned promptly with their two letters apiece, Belle took down the two letters they kept on the mantle, and they all opened the first set received together. White Feathers and Jameson with George sat in the rockers, drinks in hand, and listened as Belle and the girls compiled the events variously presented through the three initial documents. The train trip of course and its accommodations, Omaha and Chicago stations, the business meetings and the food, the people, the buildings, the shops, stores and sights, all these they read in turn as they leafed through the first series. It was near the end of that set that evoked so much interest by the three younger listeners.
Belle read aloud, We most thoroughly enjoyed the theater again our last evening in the city that doesn't sleep. When upon our return journey of a mere few blocks to our rooms at the elegant Chelsea House, we were momentarily detained by four disconsolate fellows whose evening's entertainment I'm afraid was not furthered by our own contributions. They had, it seemed, set their hopes upon persuading Mrs. Spelman and young Miss Kaitlyn into joining them for certain undisclosed sport, and with some regret I must admit, I was forced to dissuade them from their request. There was but one who insisted to press their intentions even to the extreme of knife-point, but he instantly surrendered his cause and forfeited their case at my gentle but firm insistent refusal. I am unused to resorting to such arguments as I was perforce required to employ, yet all was well and from our initial introduction to our parting of ways was but the duration of a good stretch and yawn first exercised upon a chilly winter's morning. When upon departing for a last angling adventure the next morning I was interviewed by Mr. Spelman regarding the previous evening's encounter. I was at a loss to see the import of his apparent concerns. I confessed my regrets and made known I had only used what persuasions any one in my own place might have used and as consolation left him with the trophy of that unfortunate encounter---a rather well designed and cared for tradesman's folding knife of about half a foot in length.
Jameson and th