Mr. Rochester & Maximilian

Ah, blame Rhu for this. She was talking about Mrs. Peach and Mrs. Apple and the fun that she and her friend had (and before her friend, her sister Kari played that game with her) writing letter back and forth as if they were keeping one another abreast of what was taking place during the war. My friend Susanna and I had a similar game involving a Mr. Rochester and Maximilian, his good friend. You can guess what movies we saw before we read the books (why we picked guy characters I don't know, other than it always seemed like the girls never got to have any adventures or fun) but she was Mr. Rochester and I, was the dashing rather younger and more reckless Maximilian. The game started one afternoon when we went to her grandmother's house, I think it was for her or maybe one of her cousins birthday parties, and it was a sleep over. We were bored as they were a kind and elderly pair of grandparents that didn't care much for young girlish squeals or giggling and there were several of us at that age where we wanted to do nothing BUT giggle. So, we were told the best thing to do would be to explore the upper reaches of the house that weren't currently in use. Susanna led the way and I was right behind her, feeling very out of things as her cousins rumbled up behind me.

The rooms were everything that young girls with a vivid imagination could hope for. Hopelessly crammed with brickabrac and dimly lit with white covers over the beds but not over the shelves bursting with curios they wreaked of stories not told. We got the idea then and there of Mr. Rochester and his ill fated love (which is why he was so moody) and Maximilian who was his rich spoiled and devil may-care friend who had girlfriends all over but never really fell in love. She and I whispered back and forth between giggles which annoyed her cousins and the game, that day, had to be shared. We spent most of the rest of the time hiding notes and letter among the unused rooms, some of them printed, others of them written in a 'lavish cursive hand' and some in a cramped brittle script. There was a mystery in those letters to be solved. Mr. Rochester was looking to meet with Maximilian over some enterprise they had taken concerning diamonds. The letters we scattered throughout the upstairs were suppose to be like a treasure hunt, the one linking to the next. The cousins who were older than Susanna and I insisted that Maximilian and Mr. Rochester be described and I hotly protested that men did not 'describe' themselves in letters to one another, but they pressured me and I remember looking in one of the uncovered mirrors set over one of the dressing tables in the room and thinking 'this is so stupid but Max, what do you look like? ' All I could see was myself in the mirror but I remember looking long enough into it to freak the girls out as I said slowly "He's tall, and has dark hair, and grey eyes, and he's always tanned." At the time I didn't know what olive skin was or I'd have said that instead. Oh, and Rhu, he doesn't sound familiar does he?

Anyway I don't remember what I wrote in the letters all that day (between things like the party and meals and stuff) all I do remember is that Susanna and I had to keep writing letters for the others to keep finding and we had to keep spinning the tail out until late in the night when we were allowed to take flashlights upstairs to our rooms, and finally went to sleep. The next morning, I know Susanna and I hid for a while up in the attic because we didn't want to write any more for the others about Mr. Rochester and Maximilian. They were ours and the other girls wanted them to have girl friends and all that and Susanna and I wanted them to have adventures and Maximilian I was certain would have more daring do and less catching swooning maidens.

I do know that Maximilian was always somewhat of a disappointment to me because Rochester was an easier name to write and sounded cooler. And they would call each other "Dear sir, or mockingly "My dear sir" when they started the letters. If they were in peril (Maximilian had a way of getting into scrapes like dungeons flooding with water) the letters would begin "If I am alive after this I will tell you all" and if he were injured he'd "Have gotten this nice nurse to write the letter for me" and often times he'd put in "The ink is rather hard to come by here so I'm using my own blood". Whereas Mr. Rochester would start his letters by saying things like "My dear chap, you can not go on spending money like this" or "Dear sir, I can not condone your actions any longer" or "Hang it all Maxim, now I have to come and rescue you." Ahhhh, good memories. We had so much fun with them.

Thanks for the memory jog, Rhuness.