In the Middle
Eliott (as in Ted) Jeffries (as in Dale and Danny) Huycke is a middle child two times. From the atomistic point of view he resides between brothers Oliver (17) and Bixby (15). From the expanded nuclear there is half-sister Kailee (24) and half-sister Kennedy (5). His mother has been married three times and is quite prolific in child birth. A beautiful thing actually but damn if the last name syndrome doesn’t cloud things up. I am the father of the three boys which, I just realized, puts me in the middle as well. Though just three of the five have my genealogy I love all five without measure.
The three boys were (somewhat) blessed with family names, when Eliott was born it was my turn. Middle name Jeffries is attributed to my maternal grandfather Dan and great-uncle Dale Jeffries who were famous boat builders from the 1930’s all the way up to Dale’s passing in 1994 – Jeffries Boats. First name Eliott comes from Ted Elliott (mother Chelsea omitted an L on the birth-certificate without reason) who was the foreman of The Jeffries yard until he decided to put his own name on some larger and more beautiful vessels. There are quite a few Elliott’s that still call Newport home. Most Jeffries are long gone. There are 2 in Catalina, 3 in Long Beach, 2 in Marina Del Rey, a handful in Cabo San Lucas (where the last functioning yard was from 1957 to ’94) and currently ZERO in Newport. And the yards being closed means he carries the torch. Eliott was also the middle name of my paternal grandfather Lorne Elliott Huycke. Eliott and brothers are fifth generation to our, not so sleepy anymore, seaside town which began with their great-great grandmother Myrtle Mae Huycke trading Long Beach for Newport Beach around 1921. Ahhh but I am going off script here; Eliott’s turn.
Eliott arrived three weeks early, surprise surprise. I had stayed home from work that day sick with the flu. But those were different times, if you get my drift, and they let me in the hospital anyway. He arrived without a peep and the most beautiful head of hair. Eyes engaged which I do not believe is common with a new born. A hospital stay of 24 hours, early and healthy, this boy was ready to go.
He was a very active child the first three years but very quiet. These traits would stick with him and we came to realize he was a child of action far more than a child of words. This was a noticeable difference in the house, and thank God for the middle child because there was plenty of consistent NOISE coming from the outliers. His parents’ marriage did not last beyond the first five years of his life and that set the stage for far less doldrums and far more hurricane force winds. But the quiet, of action, steady little personality building inside ensured he would steer straight through it all until his teens.
From the age of five right up to just shy of his sixteenth birthday he divided his time between two homes. Actually that number should be considered exponentially as his mother and father (during separation and divorce) would scramble through various residences in Corona del Mar, Peninsula Point, West Newport and East Side Costa Mesa. These poor children would attend Waldorf, Newport El, Harbor View, CdMHS and home schooling through it all. For Eliott it seemed a breeze without emotional hiccup, sans any disconnect, continuously curious and with more friends than a child his age could ever imagine. And then…
In 2017 Eliott’s mother, remarried and with a new-born daughter, moved to Ojai. Sticky situation since we share custody on an even split. While she and I had spent the previous years living no more than three miles apart now that distance would be 120 give or take. The result was homeschooling Monday through Thursday in Ojai and back home to beaches and friends in Newport Thursday through Monday. The transition has been tough on everyone accept their mother. I do not say that in spite. Eliott suffered most of all. You see, though Eliott has always been the quiet one in the bunch he is the most social. Difficult to explain. The interesting thing about Eliott is despite his “inward” reflection people (children and adults) are drawn to him. He brings out a sense of curiosity in others. I think because he is so quiet at times others want to come find out what the hell he has going on…what is he keeping to himself? As I mentioned above, Eliott is more a child of action than of words which often placed him in the middle of games, of sports and events. In this case THE MIDDLE as in the center, the focus, the desired partner. He lost that cohesion over a weekend!
The Ojai move found Eliott secluding; his friends replaced by a computer, his quiet even more quiet. After a year had passed his desire to head south diminished as he could not find a way back into his former social world. He had given up team sports because of schedule conflicts. He would miss invites to birthday parties. He had a father that didn’t want to share him with anyone else because time had limitations. Meanwhile the shift had not had as a severe impact on his siblings as, despite the distance, they maintained former relationships without a hitch. That had an impact on Eliott as well. And so went three years.
When homeschooling wrapped up in May Eliott had not been home (to Newport that is) for two months. He walked through the door on the 19th (four days ahead of his brothers) pale, hair a mess, hunched and silent. He threw a bag on the floor and said “I am never going to Ojai again”. Within a few days he had color, his old friends were in and out the front door and there was laughter. It was summer.
Turns out Eliott would be true to his word. He made a stand of his declaration. He held ground. Light with word and defiant in action, two months shy of his sixteenth birthday, assured his friends and his father he would attend CdMHS come August. One never knows what Eliott is thinking but if one is patient one will find out.
Like Eliott, I come from a broken home. My parents divorced when I was five but unlike Eliott I have no siblings. In that solitude I discovered books at a very young age. I still hold them dear. In truth I give them too much attention. My youngest is a voracious reader and my oldest a sound reader. Then there is Eliott in the middle who looks so uncomfortable holding a book. Our house has a library. A few weeks back I found him holding a book and exclaimed “WHAT?!”. He explained he had an assignment in which he could choose any book he wanted to read for his Lit class. The book in his hands was A Primer on Ethics written by my former professor (and then close friend until his passing a few years back) Tibor Machan. Eliott knew Tibor so maybe that is why he chose the book. I made the comment “that’s Philosophy kid, not Lit”. He stood silent like Eliott does then said “Ms. Jones said we could pick whatever we want” and walked away. He mentioned to me last Thursday the book is really hard to understand. I told him that is because it was written for a college course. “I don’t know how I am going to report on it” he says. I asked him when the assignment is due.
“When the other kids finish reading theirs”.