Chapters 1: The 2 Thomas'

 

Thomas Henson has issues, thirteen of them, and, indeed, one of them is superstition. When his life of luxury ends and he is dumped into an impoverished state, all these issues come home to roost, making it impossible for Thomas to stand up and take responsibility for his life. He even despises his name! Most all, however, he hates his neighbour, the ever-laughing Ethan Danwick-Blythe, who has a perfect name and a perfect garden. Thomas is being lied to, however, and those lies will upset everything our Thomas hopes for. As he plots revenge on his neighbour, the time for all lies to be exposed approaches. This amusing little tale of self-delusion is Thomas Henson’s debut into real life.

Chapter 1

NAME

 Thomas Henson has many issues.

Many. M.A.N.Y.

Here we shall examine thirteen of them. Yes, a baker’s dozen or a witch’s coming-of-age. No doubt our doubting Thomas will throw arms with hands up in horror if he hears we aim to halt our examination (dissection?) of him at this sweet little number known as 13.

These mighty swords of doom (what we call issues), by his reckoning, are the fault of:

One - his parents (for they named him)

Two - the world at large (society is judgmental and downright mean)

And three - his neighbour (the laughing bastard)

You see, Thomas Henson despises his name, and that is ISSUE ONE.

Fine, he can claim he is named for Thomas Aquinas, a philosopher in history’s annals. (One should always relate to great figures; others’ successes can therefore become one’s own successes.) Thomas Aquinas, however, had the good fortunate to be born Tommaso … why, oh, why wasn’t he Tommaso? And, let’s face it; his parents knew nothing about philosophy back in the day, did they? He does not either. Imagine claiming affinity to Aquinas, only to have to answer a question about the nature of man at a function, tea party or some other equally stifling event. He would choke on his tea. What in hell does he know about the nature of man, other than that he would like to cut his neighbour’s tongue from his laughing mouth?

Or he can claim he is named for Tom Cruise … right. Tom. Even worse. On the bright side, the actor was in short pants and sandals already when Thomas was born. At least then he is younger than his famous namesake from Hollywood. In life there are occasionally, very occasionally, small mercies. Of course, he can act the long or short pants off Cruise - he does so every time the bastard next-door waves at him across that bloody perfect hedge. What is that poem by Frost about walls and neighbours? The man is spot on. Should hark to that, laughing bastard. But, hell, every leaf being in sync with the cosmos, the idiot no doubt loves that. What a farce.

What of Thomas Edison? More contemporary than Aquinas, and everyone knows something about the history of electricity. Right. Downright BORING. Not the kind of success one desires to relate to.

His father is Terence Henson (thank God his father had not insisted) and his father before him was Travis Henson (better) and thus it is clear all male Henson’s are labelled with a T. Tradition. Family Tree stuff.

And how unimaginative, when there are a host of evocative names beginning with T - Tate, Talon, Tavio … Tommaso! Yet he is Thomas. Tommy as a toddler, Tom as a teenager, and now he insists on Thomas, at the very least. For pity’s sake, what is wrong with society that it feels the need to shorten virtually every bloody thing?

Females, by all accounts, bear the label C. But Thomas has yet to meet a labelled female Henson. He is singularly uninterested.

And - Henson. Henson?

Let us not get poor Thomas started on that.

His neighbour, the laughing bastard, is Ethan Danwick-Blythe. Unearth the shears! Sharpen the blades! Destroy the bloody perfect hedge!

And to hell with Frost!

OUR FRIEND THOMAS HENSON

After a disastrous beginning in the country, Thomas Henson begins his new life and career in the city. He must now step up or fail in this issue of being an adult. There is no trust fund and the silver spoon has long been melted.

Thomas will negotiate the ways of city living, of city working and of city romancing. We do hope dear Thomas finds himself now, although we know so well how everything, simply everything, is an issue for our Thomas. Fingers crossed!

Chapter 1

AIRS AND GRACES

 Thomas Henson is thirty-five years old and moves in diplomatic circles in the city using his gift for languages to his advantage.

This, as we well know, is his first attempt at earning a living.

We do wish him the best, of course.

He no longer relies on a mythical trust fund, and that silver spoon he was born to? Gone, Thomas, all gone.

Dear Thomas has entered the School of Hard Knocks and will now either succeed … or fail spectacularly.

He is well paid (although ‘well’ is never enough and ‘paid’ is a demeaning concept), and lives in the city during the working week, coming home to his cottage in the country for weekends.

One would think this will instil in our Thomas a sense of achievement, but it has unfortunately given him the airs and graces of the lords of the manor of yesteryear. Hard Knock School has not yet bashed from him his sense of superiority.

The act of having to commute is a terrible state of affairs, yes, deplorable in fact, but it does mean he has claim to two residences, a fact he shares with all who will listen.

Ethan Danwick-Blythe, his laughing neighbour, maintains Thomas’ cottage garden, and it has never looked better. Unfortunately, instead of feeling appreciative, Thomas is reminded of his messy apartment in the city, for the two are polar opposites. Thomas does not know how to look after himself yet, despite his years of self-reliance.

Then there is this niggle. Thomas dares not tell those who will listen where to find him at either of his two residences.

You see, Thomas knows about appearances, and his apartment is a dump, while his cottage is … well, a cottage. It isn’t the manor he claims it as, even if it is now in good order, thanks to Danwick-Blythe.

A plan must be made to streamline his life.

He must become what he claims.

All this commuting nonsense eats at his ability to become the shining star of diplomacy. And now there is tell that Mr Sherman, the BIG BOSS, will soon be making an appearance, and there will be evaluations!

There is also tell of employees being expected to entertain the boss. Or, as the rumour goes, to at least offer an invitation. If Mr Sherman accepts an invite, you are made for life.

Thomas is petrified. It certainly sounds as if Mr Sherman is a far worse prospect than the laughing bastard ever was; this may lead to a doom-laden future.

Oh dear, what now?

Time for those Hard Knock choices, friend.

Dear Thomas, poor Thomas, you cannot admit you prefer your laughing neighbour’s presence there across the perfect hedge over the weekend, for it is infinitely better than the loneliness of your crappy city apartment.

Town Thomas is lonely Thomas.

You want to streamline your life? That is a wonderful thought, friend, but we do wonder, with somewhat bated breath, what it is you intend.

We hold said breaths.

TOWN THOMAS

Coming soon!