The Girl who was a Gentleman

by Anna Jane Greenville

  The classroom was completely silent once more, but I did not care whether anyone glared or laughed. After all, this knowledge was the old man's gift to me. He had made me read that very publication, and then had spent a whole month discussing it with me thoroughly, comparing it to other theories and reviews. Remembering it, I felt strong emotions stir within me, but I kept them at bay.

  'You have read it,' Hanson concluded mildly taken-aback. He had not expected a poor country boy to know evolution.

  'That, 'Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation' and 'Principles of Biology',' I enjoyed my short moment of victory over the snake, knowing well, that my sisters would not be pleased with me if they knew that I was gloating.

  He nodded. That was all. I received no acknowledgement, whatsoever, as was to be expected from him. How could Rajesh Greenfield call him fair?

  'Gentleman,' he turned to the classroom abruptly, 'Ryde has mentioned one main fact discussed in 'On the Origin of Species'. In evolution the most relevant concern is the heritage of traits, with regard to their adaptation to environment and influence on offspring. Let me explain this with women as an example,” cheeky chuckles spread about the room. Hanson certainly knew how to entertain his audience.

  “A woman with good child-baring hips (delight and laughter) may have little trouble giving birth, (pure horror in the boy's faces) being likely to reproduce. Inheriting her child-bearing hips, her offspring is also likely to reproduce, thus child-baring hips survive (laughter) and along with them other traits that the initial woman may have: hair-colour, eye-colour, height etc.” Hanson held two cupped hands up in front of his chest – seemingly accidentally – and the boys almost choked on laughter.

  “On the other hand, a women who is less able to bear children, is more likely to die during child-birth along with her child. Her heritage ends. As a result child-bearing hips may be a criteria in the process of 'natural selection'. However, this is only true as long as the environment requires child-bearing hips. Once the environment changes – a progress in the medical department occurs – the woman, who is less able to bear children, and her offspring, are helped to survive, as well. Child-bearing hips cease to be a selection criteria and the second woman, too, will have her traits inherited by future generations. Therefore, remember: 'survival of the fittest' implies the one, who is best adapted to the environment, it does not necessarily mean the strongest, as Chester has said. In addition, that fitness is only relevant if it is heritable.'

  If I had chosen that moment to blink, I would have missed the look Hanson directed my way. I found it hard to interpret. 'He is a good and fair teacher' Rajesh Greenfield had said but I did not share his opinion, he was, however, interesting to listen to.

  At the end of the lesson I learned that he had not forgotten my unpunctuality, after all. I had to spend the forthcoming Sunday dusting every single book in the classroom as punishment.

  'There are only approximately one thousand three hundred copies,' he mocked me.

  Chapter 6

  FRIEND OR FOE

  I woke to an ominous quietness and a blurry whiteness. Underneath my palms and bare feet was ice-cold grass. I perked up and tried to stand but a hand pushed me down. Turning frantically, but unable to distinguish my surroundings I heard movement in the fog. Someone's feet scuffed on the wet grass. I forced myself up. Could this be a dream?

  The cold crept underneath my night gown and I was glad I wore trousers and a shirt under it. Sharing a room with boys I could not afford not to.

  'Explain 'natural selection' someone yelled in a low voice and a face hidden by a fencing mask appeared before me. I stumbled backwards from fright.

  'Too slow,' the low voice yelled and disappeared in the fog. A splash of icy water made me scream from the coldness that embraced me. My body began trembling.

  'Name all plays by Shakespeare,' another voice commanded.

  'Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet,-' I stuttered hoarsely.

  'Too slow,' a third voice bellowed and another splash of water followed. The coldness yanked my knees from underneath me. Three pairs of feet appeared from the whiteness. I crouched on the grass clasping my body in a futile attempt to stop the trembling. Looking up, my gaze met three fencing masks.

  A hand grabbed me and pulled me up towards the masks.

  'You do not seem so very knowledgeable, now, do you Ryde?' He shoved me into two pairs of arms, that caught me and held me up by the arms.

  'Go back to where you came from,' he whispered.

  The other two pushed me into the grass. Could you feel pain in a dream?

  Suddenly, they howled like wolves.

  'Who is there?' a forth voice sounded. A light approached, blurringly diffused by the high density of water particles in the air.

  The three wolves ran.

  The light came nearer until it was only inches away. Warm and bright.

  'Ryde?' Hanson stated holding an oil lamp to my face. The man showed less surprise than was appropriate. 'What happened?'

  My teeth were clattering ferociously. I was so cold I could neither speak nor stand.

  He took off his night robe and put it on my wet shoulders, he rubbed my arms and it felt like I had daggers under my skin.

  'Get up, boy,' he said pulling one of my arms around his neck. I leaned against his warm body and commanded my legs to move. The stairs of the Academic Building came into sight. We approached it from the college green.

  Hanson half-dragged me into a cosily warm room. He sat me down in front of the fireplace. I raised my shaking palms and felt the heat returning to my body slowly.

  Hanson closed the door behind us, killing the draft, and rushed to another room. I heard water splash. Ten minutes later he was beside me again, pulling me up, leading me to the other room. A filled bathtub with steaming water was in the centre of it. I almost cried with joy.

  'Take off your clothes,' he said already taking his robe from me.

  A shock paralysed me momentarily.

  'N-No,' my voice returned.

  He looked at me angrily.

  'I-I-I-I c-c-can't,' it took all my strength to connect the letters into words. I looked down on the floor ashamed of everything.

  'Get in with your clothes, then,' he said briskly.

  The heat almost tore my flesh apart.

  'It seems warmer than it is because you are freezing.'

  Little by little, my body began feeling normal again.

  'Thank you, sir,' I managed without stuttering, but still trembling.

  He emptied a kettle of hot water into the bathtub. The warmth embraced my body pleasantly.

  'Every now and then we have students like you,' he said.

  Girls who dress as boys, I wondered.

  'Like me, sir?'

  'Small and weak, no pedigree, no good at anything physical,' he smiled, 'but excellent in everything academic.'

  I blushed and looked at my knees, that became visible through the soaked night gown and white trousers.

  'I knew this might happen,' he said, 'which is why I did not praise you in class. But I suppose the other teachers did in abundance. This won't make you very popular among your peers.'

  'Do not worry about me, sir, I am f-f-fine,' I insisted trying to seem strong.

  He gave me one of his disbelieving looks complete with squinting, and eye-brow-arching, and whatever else he usually did. I tried to smile, but my face might have turned into a distorted grimace instead, as I was not sure how well I could control my muscles. He frowned.

  'I won't tolerate any bullying. Starting tomorrow, you will come to fencing an hour early so you can stand up to your peers. If you do that, they will respect you more and leave you alone.'

  'Sir?'

  'You heard me,' he gave me a stern look, and left.

  I watched the ripples around me and tried to recuperate what had happened, wondering why I had not woken, when the boys with the fencing masks had dragged me out of bed. But then I had never been this tired in my life. I
was not sleeping much and everything was so stressful and unnerving. I rubbed my eyes to stop them from building up tears of self-pity. As a matter of course Hanson chose this precise moment to return. He put a bundle of clothes on the small, three-legged stool beside the tub.

  'Thank you, sir,' I barely mumbled rubbing my eyes harder as my voice was giving me away. For a short moment, I could see sympathy in the green eyes. It was gone quickly, though, and his facial expression hardened.

  'If you do not want to be bullied, do something about it, yourself. If you run crying to the headmaster or me it will only become worse.'

  'Yes, sir,' I steadied myself.

  He squinted.

  'Would you please not tell anyone about this, sir?'

  He nodded and I wondered if he regretted having helped me. It was easy for him to claim everyone should stand up for themselves. After all, he was tall and strong. I doubted he had had any problems with his classmates as a schoolboy. He might have been the main bully himself.

  'Sir?'

  'Yes?'

  'Would you – I do not want to be rude – but would you...'

  With another nod he closed the door behind him. I took off the soaked night gown, trousers, and shirt. Hanson had given me a pair of black trousers and a dark blue shirt. I rubbed my forefinger and thumb on the fabric. It was soft and thick. A quality my family could never afford. I put them on.

  I wrung the water from my own wet clothes. Now that I was warm and dry, I had the mental capacity to take in my surroundings. There was not much in it apart from the bath in the centre and a basin by the wall. Both were boxed in wooden panelling. Underneath the big window, the thick curtains of which were drawn, was a little bowl with shaving utensils in it. It was quite a luxury to have your own private bathroom with running water. It might not be a novelty in London any more, but back in my family home we still had to pump water by hand.

  When I finished observing the marvels of progress, I went outside to find Hanson sitting on the bed. He was absorbed in a book. Upon seeing me he put it aside.

  His bedroom was big. The fire painted the white linen of the large bed orange. The reflection of the flame swayed on the big and tall wardrobe on the opposite wall. Hanson stood up and motioned for me to follow him. I had not realised we had walked through a study before coming into the bedroom. On our way out we passed it. A significant amount of books lined the shelves on both sides of the black window. They held as many books as they could carry, perhaps more. A massive desk stood in the centre with piles of papers neatly tied up. A pen lay symmetrically to the edge with an ink jar next to it. The desk was so big that the green arm chair disappeared behind it almost completely. A fitting sofa with green cushions was next to the door that we walked out of.

  'I know the way, sir,' I said as Hanson turned the key in the lock.

  'It is past midnight, Ryde, you need a reason to be out of your room at this hour, in case you walk into the caretaker.'

  'Thank you, sir,' I had not even thought of it.

  We passed the college green on our way to the halls of residence. I glanced at the grass. The fog had lifted and with it all signs of what had occurred there. I wondered what the other boys would have done to me if Hanson had not come. I felt a lump rise in my throat.

  The halls of residence appeared dark and deserted. Our shadows flickered on the walls to Hanson's candle.

  'Good night, Ryde,' Hanson said once I told him the door to my room was in sight. 'If you wake up with a fever, find me.'

  I smiled at him as broadly as I could, and apologised to have disturbed his rest, and thanked him politely, and wished him good night. The door fell shut behind me and the smile disappeared from my face.

  I climbed under my blanket without taking Hanson's clothes off.

  'Jojojonathan,' exclaimed Rajesh Greenfield much cheerfuller than was appropriate under the given circumstances. 'You made me worry,' he complained. 'Are you all in one piece?'

  I did not answer. Somehow, his behaviour struck me as odd. Considering how mean the others were, he was decidedly too nice. Was he really someone I could trust? Or was I merely exhausted and therefore overly wary and suspicious?

  'Strange noises woke me,' he continued, 'when I found you gone, I went to tell Dr Hanson, immediately.'

  'Thank you,' I said grudgingly, ' there was no need.'

  He tilted his head frowning, 'are you sure?'

  'Quite.'

  He stood there for a moment. The moon, shining through the window, illuminated one side of his face eerily. Without another word, he lay down and pulled the blanket over his head. I was too embarrassed to thank him, if indeed he was the one who had called Hanson.

  Chapter 7

  ACQUANTANCES AND ASPIRATIONS

  After four hours of being in a state that could hardly be described as sleep, I rose from my bed, dressed, and went out into a chilly, cloudy, rainy morning. My head was heavy, my limbs were numb, my muscles were sore, but when Hanson greeted me at exactly five o'clock to begin my private fencing lesson, I tried not to reveal how poorly I felt. Bravely, I dived into the fencing uniform, put on the mask, and took the sword.

  The fencing hall seemed much bigger without the other students. The polished wooden floor reflected the brightening sunrise through high and long windows, like a still lake. Hanson's foot steps echoed somewhere far away although he was already in front of me.

  As he had taught me the day before, I took the en-garde position and he answered by doing the same. The foil wobbled in my hand, while Hanson's remained still in a firm grip. His blade touched mine and the sound of metal brushing metal filled the anticipating silence.

  'Have you learned how to dance?' he asked.

  There had been a lot of dancing in my house. Ironically, Eleanor had always made me dance the male part. But I was not sure whether it was safe to say so. I edited the truth and answered in the negative.

  'No dancing lessons?' Hanson exclaimed. 'Very unusual for a young gentleman. How do you intend to impress the ladies?'

  I froze. Was he suspicious? The exhaustion made me warier than ever.

  'I-I had a lesson or two but I would not call it serious learning.'

  A chuckle sounded from within the mask.

  'You are very tense, Ryde. What are you afraid of?'

  'Nothing, sir,' I responded immediately, perhaps too quickly.

  'Everyone has a secret, but don't you worry, I won't pry on yours,' a flash of white teeth became visible through the black grid, 'I am sure you are a better dancer than fencer (certainly it is not possible to be worse). Just like in a dance, I would like you to follow my lead, when I step back you make a step towards me, when I step forth you retreat, and the distance between us has to remain the same. Let the length of our blades be your reference.'

  He raised the peak of his right foot and let the heal follow, thus stepping forth, his heal touched the ground first, and the peak second, then, he shifted his weight, and ended the movement by covering exactly the same distance with his left foot. As I had to step back, I made the same movement backwards, starting with the left foot. Hanson gradually moved faster and I had to stay alert to react accordingly, so the distance between us would remain the same.

  Sweat was running down my spine for it was very hot under the three layers of uniform, a shirt, and chest bandages, and my leg muscles were aching from having to keep my knees bent. When I straightened them half an inch Hanson noticed instantly, and slapped his blade on my thigh.

  When the other boys entered the hall, one by one, and commenced their training, I was told to practise lunges against the wall. Every now and then, he would stand beside me and tell me how to improve the movement, but for the most part he focused on training the other students, and I was glad to be left in peace.

  After training, I was not keen on facing my peers, since at least three of them felt enough hatred towards me to sacrifice a night's sleep to rid me of my own, hence I was suspicious of everyone who yawned.

&nbs
p; Therefore, when the boys left to change, at the end of the lesson, I remained in the hall. Then again, I could not have joined them even if they had been my good friends.

  'Ryde, I believe you have had enough for today,' said Hanson.

  'I believe I have had enough for a whole month,' I mumbled under my breath, proceeding in my attack on the wall.

  'Have you said something?'

  'I believe I need to train much more.'

  'Oh, you will. But not today, I do not want you to collapse halfway through the day. The headmaster would hold me accountable and that would be a nuisance.'

  'I am glad to be taught by a man who knows his priorities,' I said and took off my mask.

  'Certainly,' he agreed untouched by my sarcasm. 'You do look rather pale, Mr Ryde. Are you all right?'

  'Fresh air will make me quite myself again, sir, I assure you.'

  By the time I entered the dressing room, the other boys were long gone. My shirt was soaked wet under the uniform. I had not known I could sweat this much. Strangely, needlework and reading had never provoked such a reaction from my body.

  The fresh set of clothes cooled my skin. I felt light-headed, as soon as I sat down on the long bench that was held by a metal chain. With my forehead I touched the cold stone wall and closed my eyes. There was a knock on the door but I did not bother to answer. It sounded so far away.

  'Ryde, are you asleep?'

  'No, sir, I am just blinking slowly, sir.'

  'Very funny, boy. Be on your way or you will miss breakfast.'

  'Yes, Dr Hanson.'

  Rajesh Greenfield caught up with me on my way to the dining hall. His hair was damp from recent washing. He brushed away the dripping strands from his forehead and gave me a broad smile, he had such an easy and amiable demeanour that I did want to believe in his kindness. But to be proved wrong could be fatal, therefore I kept my guard up, however, to fortify my position among my peers I needed friends. What to do?