HOME FROM HARVARD.

The tall pine trees swayed aimlessly, unwittingly evicting it's winged inhabitants form their lofty branches as a shiny red, 1969 Ford mustang convertible sped past them on a lonely stretch of road somewhere in Vermont. The crows scattered noisily against the stark blue sky, causing the seemingly arrogant driver to look up and temporarily lose control of the vehicle that almost ran into a lone jogger. He stopped the car in time; his grip firm and tight on the steering wheel and his eyes squeezed shut, "I'm so , so sorry," he apologised and slowly opened his eyes merely to look up at the jogger now standing just outside his car door.

"Angie?" he said in disbelief, staring at the attractive, blond woman with her arms akimbo and ready to give him a tongue lashing about his inept driving skills but the sight of the shiny brown hair and stimulating blue eyes, clenched at her heart and instantly ameliorated her unmitigated anger towards him, "well, well, well, if it isn't little Jordan Parker? Back from Harvard so soon?"

"Yep, looks as if all the beautiful sights are right here in Vermont," he declared, his restless eyes roving the length of her body, encased in a skin tight leotard and tank top, "I was in Vermont about a month ago but I never saw you."

"Went south with the boyfriend........but I'm back in town and single. I hope Harvard won't miss you too much, I may have some plans for you."

"Can't wait to hear them but I must head home now and scare the living daylights out of my dear parents. Sorry about the almost accident!"

And noisily he drove off as she stood there in awe, shaking her head.

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Half hour later Jordan pulled up in front of the stark white, three story Queen Anne mansion that shone like a bleached bone in the early morning sunshine and began to wildly honk his car horn.........

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Inside the house in the brightly lit breakfast room with white gossamer curtains billowing in the cool morning breeze, a distinguished looking couple sat down at a huge table to have breakfast consisting of poached egg, coffee, homemade flatbread with a light helping of cream cheese and strawberry jam bought from the farmer's market just down the road. Dr. Evelyn Parker sat upright on her chair, her shoulder length chestnut brown hair, well coiffed with every strand in place. Her husband, Dr. David Parker sat at the other end of the table with his blond head immersed in today's newspaper. When Evelyn was young, medicine was taught like a religion in her household, just like the Bible being taught at a christian institution known for its staunch rules and practices, where every follower was expected to walk a straight line without digressing because obedience was compulsory for salvation. She dare not stray from the dignified path of medicine since her parent's tenacious desire was for her to become a heart surgeon like her grandfather was and being the only child born to them, it was imperative that she followed that golden path.

Being bestowed with such an hefty post, Evelyn became despondent and rebelled against the rigid dedication and discipline expected in such a venture and so turned to drugs. It was the early seventies; drugs and a cornucopia of other mind altering substances were at everyone's fingertips but her drug of choice was LSD. She had heard of respectful celebrities indulging in its use to escape reality and it sounded like just the thing she needed. She went missing for two days after her first hit but a frantic search party found her asleep in her car on a small lookout at the edge of a cliff. Although her drug stint was short, it was seen to that she was sent away to rehab for three months. Evelyn remained on the straight and narrow after that, being more fearful of the shaky choices she had made, than practicing obedience to her parents. Their dreams were eventually realized when she became a heart surgeon and decided to carry on the family's inherent trade with civil reluctance.

For David Parker, it was different. Yes, his immortal dream was to become a doctor but being a farmer's son the path there wasn't paved with gold. He had to work three times harder, tilling the soil by day and hitting the books by night. He almost gave up once when the farm was on the verge of bankruptcy but his father was always an astute and shrewd man and somehow managed to pull the farm out of it's financial straits and David was able to finish school. Now it was time for Jordan to make his sacrifice and walk the path they walked, but like his mother, he was weak but not weak enough to self destruct. However, he bore his father's strength and determination to persevere, to hold on even if his fingernails were being ripped off.....if he believed in the cause that is. Georgia, their new housekeeper, came into the room with the mail when the irksome honking of a car horn jolted her, causing her to drop the small silver platter to the wooden floor, spilling its contents. It blasted its way through the serenity of the morning the way a predator's dreadful teeth would tear through the soft, succumbing flesh of its prey. Evelyn's coffee cup trembled in her hand, spilling the dark liquid all over her Gucci suit that repelled it. She looked over to her husband and screamed, "David?!"

"Eat your breakfast, Evelyn, you will need it." He responded nonchalantly and dug into his.

Georgia went back into the kitchen, her nerves frazzled by the noisy entrance of their only offspring and hurriedly began to pack the dirty dishes into the dishwasher but in a flurry of anxious movements her elbow accidentally knocked some plates off the counter. Before they could hit the floor, a pair of skilful, well kept hands caught them in time. Wondering who her unlikely hero was, she stepped back only to behold the haloed countenance of a young man in his early twenties, "I always hated those dishes," he stated laconically with a smile, "and you're beautiful." As he walked out the kitchen and with her lips agape at his impulsive statement, Georgia realized that he had a guitar case thrown across his torso. She had heard distasteful things about this young man .......arrogance, headstrong, defiant, selfish were the ugly adjectives Evelyn would use to describe her only child. Although adored by his mother, she felt slighted by his outright rebellion to her suggestion to study endocrinology and that was the gaping crack that caused her maternal concerns to crash and to graphically voice her displeasure towards him.

In the brief juncture that he decided to grace her with his presence , Georgia witnessed the unfolding of an individual not befitting of Evelyn's offensive words. He showed her kindness, empathy and a little bit of passion that burned in him. He just didn't want what she wanted........endocrinology in all its glory. She could hear raised voices as he entered the breakfast room, "good morning, my dear parents. It's good to see that you're healthy and strong."

"Jordan, what's going on? Isn't it the middle of the semester? Why are you home?" Evelyn's inquiry was cold, tempered with a little disdain.

"I've decided that I don't want to be a doctor, is that what you want to hear? Endocrinology, seriously? I would rather eviscerate myself. I know you have made your sacrifices to be where you are today, but the sacrifices I make must be for something I love...... like music."

"By doing this, you have tainted the very image and legacy of this family!"

"Lightened up mother or you might have a heart attack." Jordan said coolly as he passed the table.

"Jordan, you are not being fair." David alluded in a vain attempt in defending his wife. He looked up at his son, knowing fully well that he would never be able to convince him to go back to Harvard, "one's youth should never be wasted."

"Come on dad, I thought you understood. I'm on the verge of securing a record deal. Delivering that baby at that fair last year was the best thing that ever happened to me, especially when the mother of the baby happened to be the wife of record producer, Trinity Navarro. He heard my music and he loved it and since then I can't think of anything else."

There was a protracted silence. The birds outside could be heard making their mating noises; fluttering their wings and cooing. Georgia was singing a tune as she swept the kitchen floor and for some reason, Jordan never felt more at home.

Quietly his father rose from behind the table and walked up to his towering son and gave him a firm hug, "go fulfill your dreams, son, I have already fulfilled mines."

"Thanks dad."

David saw the horrified look on his wife's face and smiled, "come on Evelyn, we'll be late for work."