by Aeryn Jaden
“Well, maybe two morons cancel themselves and the first becomes not so moron.”
“Huh?”
My logic is hard to follow. But I really was a good teach. I swear.
“The “ moron with a big gun and small brains” quote belongs to principal Matthers. So if a moron thinks somebody else is a moron, maybe that person really isn’t.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Timothy seemed to unfreeze at that.
“Did you just call Matthers a moron?”
“I call it as it is.”
They puffed and started snickering. Bain was still caught on my moron explanation.
“So you know who I am.”
“Not really. I just know what Matthers said. You don’t look like a moron much. Are you?”
He spluttered, caught off guard.
“No! The guy had his knife at the girl’s neck, ready to cut.”
“I knew the dude. Not surprised you had to shot him. His parents should have called animal control long ago.”
He gaped at me, stunned into silence.
“What? It’s true. He was always twitching and snarling at empty air. I gave his test results through a closed door.”
His eyebrow demanded an explanation. I was a bit reticent in providing one since it wasn’t one of my finest moments.
“Under the door. He failed. I couldn’t find the key to open, you see. Turns out it was in the door.”
My innocent expression made him shake with renewed amusement. The others were laughing so hard they were holding their belies. What? I really was a bit distracted at the time.
“You really did that, didn’t you?”
He huffed once more and settled again.
“Better that being held at knifepoint.”
His expression turned serious and troubled as if he was revisiting gruesome memories.
“Good call. Sooo… animal control?”
“For shooting rabid dogs.”
“I only shot his shoulder I didn’t finish him off.”
“Good enough.”
His smirk made my hackles rise.
“You’re a bloody little thing, aren’t you?”
“LITTLE?”
“Sure. Compare.”
He made a gesture from his body to mine.
It hurt to acknowledge it.
“Point.”
We finished our lunch in silence and I started to fidget. Did he have to stand so close that his tight was practically taped to mine? And why did I even notice?
“Where to now?”
“Huh?”
Idiot. Stop staring as his leg. And keep your bloody hand in check.
“Oh. Economics group three from one o’clock.
“New student Economics three.’
“You? Didn’t know about any transfers.”
“No transfer. Accelerated classes.”
“Oh, man. Two tests for you. Sucks to be me.”
“Huh?”
I frowned in mock anger although I was pretty impressed. Our school program was pretty tough and for him to take first and second year classes in one year, was something.
“Do you know how much time I spend devising those?”
“No more that I spend studying for them.”
“Point.’
He smiled again. Why did the guys have been so surprised at seeing him laughing? He was a pretty laid-back dude. Easy to talk to.
“No reason for you to come to first year classes. I’ll see you after school in my office to talk about some combined courses.”
He squinted at me.
“You’ll do that?”
“Why not?”
It was hard to interpret his stony expression.
“Because all the other teachers are trying to make my life a living hell by demanding attendance to all the first and second year classes?”
“Bull. They do not.”
“Do too.”
“Really? Huh.”
What the hell? That was almost illegal for the accelerated courses students.
I pulled my laptop suspicious and checked my mail. Aha. It was what I thought.
“Did you shoot anybody else beside Gary? Like maybe the University’s president or some relative of his?”
He regarded me cautiously.
“Nooo…”
His prolonged silence made me raise my gaze suspiciously.
“I maybe snarled a bit.”
“Well then, you really made an impression on our dear president.”
I started typing a reply to the one month old message.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, and I quote “We have a new student in the person of mister Bain Conner, our former security guard involved in this spring unfortunate incident. I advise caution when treating with his kind of abnormally violent behavior and apologize for not stopping this aberration at the moment he was accepted in our campus community. I advise solidarity in shoving this individual that our school has some standards that he obviously does not comply to. Among those attendance which is a must… ” and bla bla bla. Signed dear old President Matthers.”
Matters was really a moron. I shook my head in dismay. Why did he continued to put himself in these kind of situations?
“That son of a bitch!”
”Probably.”
“I’m gonna cut off his balls and make him eat them.”
“If he has any.”
“Strangle him with his own…”
“I got it. Chill.”
“CHILL?”
His voice boomed in the cafeteria making some close-by students scurry away. Pretty vocal guy when annoyed. He groaned and let his head fall in his huge palms. I distractively noticed that they were twice as mine.
“I’m officially screwed.”
“No, you’re not.”
I continued typing ignoring his tension and the anger that rolled in waves from him.
The bell ringed alerting the end of lunch break.
“Um, man.”
Timothy and the other two very silent so far guys got up and two steps out of Bain’s way.
“We’re heading for class. See you.”
And they scrambled out of the cafeteria like a pack of scared reindeers.
“Nice friends.”
“They’re ok. Want me to show them my gun.”
His lips quirked like he was amused at some personal joke.
“No guns on campus.”
I was adamant about that. I had fought tooth and nail to impose that rule.
He laughed at me, I could see that. What did I miss?
“No guns. So, what are you doing?”
“Emailing the chancellor.”
“As in Perkins, the University’s chancellor?”
“That’s the one.”
He assessed my expression in obvious disbelief.
“You can do that?”
“Anyone can do that.”
“Well, yeah, but what good it does?”
“When it’s his personal email it does.”
He seemed to want to ask me something and I prayed he doesn’t .I didn’t want to explain him how I knew the chancellor’s private mail address and why should he take notice of anything I had to say. It made things difficult.
Bain reached over my shoulder to read what I was typing.
I tried to wave him away. His warm breath right to the back of my ear was ticklish and quite distracting.
“Not very polite.’
“Never said I was.”
“True.”
He started snickering while reading and I allowed my lips to curve in a satisfied smile.
”You’re really busting Matthers’s balls. I won’t have what to cut after you finish with him.”
“I may be small but I’m mean.”
“I can see that. You’re really starting to look pretty scary to me.”
I rolled my eyes at him and earned another chuckle. I liked making him laugh.
“Will the chancellor really
do as you suggest?”
He was curious as to why but he sensed I wasn’t comfortable with the subject. I liked him even more.
“Yes, he will. Let’s just say we’re old palls, me and Perkins. He knows I know what I’m talking about. And Matthers’s mail is pretty incriminating.”
I finished the mail and fiddled with my programs, suddenly unsure of what to do.
“Thanks.”
His voice resonated close to my ear and I shivered in response to his soft tone.
“Don’t mention it. It’s just fair.”
I started packing my laptop and he made room for me to get out.
“Which hour after classes?”
“Huh? Ah, the combined thing. I’m free between…”
I started to do my watching the ceiling thing trying to find some time to squeeze him in.
I had a dinner party from 8 and papers to grade.
“Shit.”
“Meaning no time.”
“No time. Sorry.”
“Tomorrow?”
Out of town thing. Important thing.
“No, can’t do.”
“Monday?”
Classes ‘till 6 PM. Fund raising cocktail party from seven.
I hated those things.
“I have to fire my assistant.”
“No good either, huh?”
I pondered for a bit but it wasn’t really that hard to decide. And Shelly actually liked those pompous events.
“Nah, I’ll play hooky. Monday after 6. I’ll also probably have some news regarding the Matthers problem by then.”
His eyes glinted predatory at me and I rewound the conversation trying to find the cause of him looking at me as if I was a five course dinner.
“It’s a date.”
Huh?
“Chinese okay?”
“Chinese?”
“Food. Stuff that you eat to stay alive”
He wanted to bring me food? Huh. Well, who was I to refuse?
“Mexican.”
Bain opened the amphitheatre’s door and held it for me. Another of his predatory smiles did nothing to calm my pounding heart.
“Mexican it is.”
I was pacing in office, counting my steps from one wall to the other.
Even after not sleeping at all last night and hardly at all for the past four days, my body still didn’t want to shut down. I was close and I knew it.
Thursday, during another boring must-be-there dinner with some high-profile persons I had a sudden stroke of genius and figured out what my new software for people with locomotor disabilities was missing. Obviously the software was primarily based on speech recognition and included variations of the progresses made in the field of Assistive Technology plus some new tricks I came up with after doing a special needs assessment in collaboration with Shepherd Center. But I always had the sense I was missing something.
And here comes in last week’s formal dinner. I was getting bored out of my mind listening to pompous asses trying to show off their assets, either material or some make-believed mental prowess. Some had a clue about the foundation’s cause. Some were eager to help but didn’t have a clue how to go about it. Well, the majority was just shoving off. Then it hit me.
Skill and education. Information makes the world go round.
Double shit. How did I not see it before? These people were different although they maybe had similar impairments. Their level of skill and education varied, not only their needs. I needed to take that more carefully into consideration. I needed the software to adapt according to the user’s level. Not only the functions but also the language it was speaking.
My software was good. More complex that pretty much all there was on today’s market. I was working on it for two years now and it was almost finished. Now I had squat if I wanted to do this.
Shiiit.
Ok, I was dramatizing but who could blame me after working like crazy for the last twenty four hours to adjust the program and ending up with glitches after glitches and countless problems?
I had ditched the dinner party and locked myself in the university’s lab on Thursday night. I was still here, my tie still half hanged on my neck and the calendar showed me I had ditched Monday’s classes also. Jesus. No wonder the lab’s fridge was empty despite not remembering even one nourishment break.
Something was starting to smell and I had the suspicion it was coming from my vicinity.
I knew I had to stop and rest or I’ll burn out as it had happened before. I was lucky Sean hadn’t come yet to kick my ass for acting all obsessed and computer freaky as he called my trance-like phases. I stopped, frowning.
That was peculiar indeed. Usually I could count on him shoving up after I did the disappearance act for more that two days.
I checked my cell only to discover the battery was dead and probably had been so for a couple of days. When I opened my mail I cringed. First page full with emails from Sean. The titles went from “Where the fuck are you idiot?” to “If you’re not in a hospital you’ll soon be!” and countless variations. The messages’ contents were not so much different. Gotta love brotherly love. Even when it manifests through colloquial language.
I was almost afraid to type an answer, knowing I was in deep shit and rightly so. If Sean would have done this to me I would have called by now the state troopers to find him.
Before I could decide my IM pinged, alerting me I had a new instant message.
“U’r dead. Where are you so I can come collect the body?”
“Lab?”
“You’re asking me?! I was there looking 4 u Saturday. Saw no movement. Did u hide from me?”
Shit. He had looked for me here? Jesus, he must have tried to find me all weekend. I had major making-up to do.
“Worked on my program. No c&hear anything. Sorry. B back home soon.”
“Better b.”
Sean out.
I would say he was fairly pissed off. And I was in the doghouse. Again. Shiit… I liked having warm cocked food on the table and my bro was the housewife in our house. Uh, better forget that thought before I ended up sprouting it around Sean.
I started chewing on one of my abused nails and almost jumped out of skin when somebody knocked on the door.
I checked the clock on the wall again. 6:30. PM. Huh. Who could be at this hour? I vaguely remembered I had classes on Monday. Matthers will greatly enjoy busting my ass for skipping. Maybe he decided to house visit and enjoy more thoroughly chewing my ass. Nah, he wouldn’t make the effort. It was much more humiliating to summon me to the presidential office.
Fuuuck. Monday. 6 PM. The street pole from the cafeteria. Uh-uh.
I started searching frantically after the key- why the hell did I took it from the door? - and tried to calm my heart palpitations.
The knocking became pounding and I cringed. This was likely to turn ugly. I had the sudden need to run for the hills.
“I can hear you. Mind opening up?”
I refused to blush at the insinuation that I would not open up. Even if he had hit the bull’s eye on that.
“Coming. I was just trying to find the key.”
His snort was audible through the massive wood door. I finally found the damned key in the ashtray of all places (I don’t even smoke!) and reticently opened to his six foot five frame which was accidentally (yeah, sure!) blocking all exit paths by looming over the doorway.
His expression didn’t bode well for my future corporal integrity.
“Hey there, teach.”
“Uh. Hy?”
”I seem to remember something about Monday, 6 PM?”
“Is it Monday already?”
My guilty expression seemed to do miracles and his tense jaw somewhat relaxed.
He took in my pitiful appearance- my disheveled tuxedo in which I obviously slept, the tie hanging backwards and the variety of stains from god knows what, my messy brown hair flying in any direction conceivable. I had no shoes and only one sock on. I could sp
ot the other one with a wince on an open juice cartoon. I suspected I was quite the sight. And I smelled. Bad.
I scrunched my nose after discreetly sniffing under my arm and waved him in.
“Sorry about this.”
He put a bag on the peculiarly empty desk and took in the room. His expression was indescribable. When I followed his shocked stare I flushed embarrassed.
The board was all scribbled on and even one of the white walls sported some of my sloppy writhing. Some empty bottles and casseroles decorated one of the tables.
But what commanded the most attention was the floor, littered with open books, notes, pens, my laptop and my emergency sleeping bag.
It looked like a combat zone.
“I guess this means you didn’t stood me up.”
“Uh. Take a seat?”
He did his annoying thing with an eyebrow.
“Is it safe?”
“Oh, shut up. Just take a seat.“
I looked around trying to find out where the chairs have run to.
“Somewhere.”
The table seemed to be the right height for him.
“Brought food. Mexican. Kinda cold by now.”
My eyes ran to the bag he had when he came in and I picked it up closely against my chest. I had no pride when it came to food. When I remember to be hungry God save whoever happened to stand between me and a hamburger.
Several minutes passed in silence interrupted only by the hurried rustle of wrappers.
He bought me tacos. And tortilla chips. I found a container of salsa and sniffed appreciatively the spicy aroma. Holly mother of… Ice cream.
I hurried with the plastic container and rapidly stuffed it in the fridge.
“I take it you were hungry.”
I turned towards him, trying not to show that I had forgotten for a second somebody else was with me. I have very focused attention.
I eyed the food to decide how much I could spare.
“You hungry?”
Bain’s amused snort woke me from my glucose induced frenzy and I threw him an apologetic look.
“Sorry. I just don’t remember the last time I ate and you managed to buy my favorites.“
“Don’t worry about it.”
His intense look made me feel uncomfortable as if my skin suddenly got tighter and I was feeling a fluttery sensation in the pit of my stomach. I needed food. It seemed I was always hungry around this guy.
We wolfed down the food in a companionable silence interrupted by my occasional moans of appreciation. When I checked the ice cream it was eatable again. I was starting to get tense again now that food wasn’t such a pressing matter and I couldn’t figure why that was. Bain hadn’t show any sigh of aggression or anger at being stood up and forced to track me down to the lab. Well, beside the initial glare. And even then, at the sight of him all tough and gruff and mean looking, I hadn’t been afraid. Because his eyes still betrayed that he was all bark and no bite and my instinctual panic had been strangely calmed by his sour and disappointed expression. Not menacing but disappointed.