Chapter 12 – About a boy

Professor Holt has me practicing movement free mental movements – or whatever term might make sense to use there. My hands are numb from sitting on them all the time, and I haven’t made much progress.

“You’ll get it soon enough,” he assures me. “Don’t try to force it.” I turn around and look at him for once actually sitting down at the desk.

“Is it because you don’t like the term ‘mind reader’? Is ‘mind senser’ better?”

“No, it’s not the term.” He smiles to himself. “I have no idea what you are thinking.” I study his face, looking for sings he’s lying to me. “I’ve told you already, I listen.”

“You teach advanced Transporting, logically your ability should have something to do with transporting.”

“Officially I teach Transporting, but you’ve seen it yourself, we have every grouping in these classes. I teach the advanced stuff, Transporting just happened to be the department with an opening.”

“How come it’s not ability specific?”

“Because much of the advanced stuff is not ability specific, it’s about thinking on your feet more than anything else.”

“The other advanced classes are ability specific.”

“My students are expected to practice in their own time, if they don’t they won’t make it here.” A knock on the door announces a newcomer. The door opens and Pam sticks her head in. The class is empty by now, I just prefer waiting a little after the end of lessons to avoid awkward meetings in the hallway.

“Are you ready for your special lesson dad?” she asks.

“Dad?” I ask confused. I hadn’t seen that one coming.

“Why is that so hard to believe?” she demands.

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just hadn’t picked up on it in class, that’s all.”

“You said she was here?” professor Holt asks instead. Pam steps aside and allows the girl behind her to walk in. Her head is bowed and her shoulders slouched.

“Come on in Sasha,” he says, and she awkwardly steps over the door frame.

“That’d be my cue,” I say and make to leave. She steps to the side, careful to not look up at me.

“Actually, Lizzy, I had hoped you might stay. It could be a good opportunity for you to get some more teaching experience.” I look from her to him.

“I told you already, I’m not a teacher.” I push my way past Pam and leave the room.

“You need me for more?” she asks him.

“No, thank you.”

“Still on for dinner tomorrow?”

“Of course.” I hear her steps hurry to catch up with me on the stairs.

“He told you you’d make a good teacher?” she asks.

“Not exactly. He never said anything about ‘good’.”

“Well, he’s not often wrong about these things,” she assures me.

“He just wants to recruit my name, same as everyone else here.”

“No, I don’t think so. Haven’t you noticed yet?”

“Noticed what?”

“I guess Langdales really are conceited. You’ll notice eventually,” she tells me. “By the way, do you mind if we push today’s lesson, it’s a full moon tonight, I had completely forgotten.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a sort of party really. Show up on the roof top tonight, you’ll see. Wear something nice,” she says and runs off. Roof top fights and parties, how quaint. Knowledge is power though, she has it and I don’t, and now she has peaked my curiosity. Maybe I should take a look, at the least I can always watch from one of the towers. It might be nice to know more about the abilities present here, after all ‘Nature’ can mean anything from biology to herbology. More information would be nice, I’ll watch from a distance – I can always join later on if I decide it’ll be worth it. I take the tower stairs, I know the fight/party doesn’t begin till after dinner, but I could use the peace and quiet of the tower right now.

“200$! How dare you, you ungrateful monstrosity. And to force me all the way out here, to force me to catch a ride with that woman…” I pause on the landing between two flights of stairs. “I should have gotten rid of you when I had the chance.” The man continues. A mumbled answer and the sound of what is clearly someone getting hit makes me open the door to the hallway. A heavy, grown man is standing just outside a room, almost blocking my view of the scrawny guy from class. I move around him and see his hand clenched around the throat of my classmate.

“What the hell…” he turns halfway around at the unexpected sounds and looks at me. “Get out of here, this doesn’t concern you.”

“Let go of him,” I order, but my voice is more distraught than firm.

“This is a family matter, get out.” I reach out mentally and pry his fingers from each other and lift his arm up where it can do no harm.

“What the… You’re another one of them, aren’t you?” In a school full of, what was it, monstrosities? Well, yeah, you got me, mister. “If you touch me again I’ll make sure you get what is coming to you. Now get your filthy… Get off me.”

“Are you okay?” I ask Mr. Trady who’s name I still don’t know.

“Get out,” he echoes the man. Mentally, I do. I check the number on the open door next to then and hurry downstairs to the classroom I just left, pick up the chalk, and write Professor Holt a message: ‘Help needed in 1760, hurry.’

“I don’t mean to be a bother, but I can’t do that,” I say out loud.

“You’re protecting a murderer; do you know that? Or has he got you all messed up in the head too?” the man says.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll take your word for it,” I agree. “Is he your father?” I ask Mr. Tardy.

 “I told you to get out,” he reminds me. The voice almost has the same angry, sort of insulted ring to it. I shake my head slightly, but enough to provoke a reaction in him. He takes one stride towards me, grabs hold of my arm and pulls me from the hallway by force. I allow him to throw me down on the floor by the stairs but refuse to let him close the door. He realizes instantly. He comes back and crouches down next to me. His eyes are almost glowing red in anger.

“Being a Langdale doesn’t give you the right to mess with things that are none of your business.”

“Boy!” professor Holt calls as he steps up the stairs. Evidently, he knows quite well who lives in 1760. “What is going on here?” he demands.

“Nothing Professor, stay out of it. And get her away from me.”

“Mr. Patrick.” professor Holt looks at the man and says. “I had no idea you’d be coming here today.”

“I don’t need to share my schedule with you,” he says, but given that I still have his arm lifted over his head he seems a lot less threatening. He must realize that because the next thing to come out of his mouth is the order: “Release me.” Professor Holt looks down at me on the floor. I don’t care if hell freezes over, I’m not letting go till he and Mr. Tardy are in separate rooms. Professor Holt nods almost unperceptively.

“Why don’t you come with me instead?” the Professor asks Mr. Patrick.

“Because I’m not done talking to my son.” His voice is getting more and more unsteady in the presence of more outsiders.

“Yes, you are. You can either come with me, or you can stay here with miss Langdale while I go get security.”

“I have every right to talk with my boy…”

“Not like this you don’t. This isn’t talking.” I pull my legs to me so I’m sitting against the banister of the stairs instead of lying on the floor. He towers over me with his fat belly and angry eyes, but the anger is slowly turning more and more fearful as he still hasn’t managed to pull his hand back down.

“You have no right,” he insists.

“I’m sorry, but this isn’t a visiting month, you need to leave the premises.”

“And what about my money? The little monstrosity has been stealing from me.”

“How did he do that from here?” I ask in bewilderment. I can’t get through the barrier, has he found a way? Mr. Patrick awkwardly reaches into his inner pocket with his left hand, pulls out an envelope and throws it at me as if hoping I’ll get a papercut and let him go. I hold it up in the air and open it without touching it. Yes, show off, we’ve established that already. It’s a bill from the village for cokes for about 40$ and 160$ for damages caused by fighting. I sneak a peek at the tower of a guy who must weigh less than the baby at home.

“Coke?” I ask. “Am I to assume they don’t sell beer here?” Professor Holt reaches for the paper and I hand it over.

“200$ Boy? You can’t keep doing this.”

“Why not, he has money enough.”

“You think I’m going to pay for this? You’re a grown man, you pay for your own escapades.” I summon some 20’s from under my mattress – since it’s unlikely that I’m going to get away from here anytime soon, and even more unlikely I’ll be able to move around NY without money, I decided a bank account was kind of pointless. I slide them across the floor in the hope that Mr. Patrick won’t notice and slip them into the hand of Professor Holt. He looks at me out of the corner of his eye but thankfully doesn’t say anything.

“Come with me, Mr. Patrick, we’ll figure it out.” I can hear the silent ‘somehow’ in the air. It seems like it’s not the first time Mr. Tardy has been spending, nor the first time he’s paid the consequences of it.

“Get her to let me go,” Mr. Patrick demands, finally accepting that he won’t get out on his own. Professor Holt nods at me. I clench my teeth. I don’t really want to let go. I get to my feet instead.

“I don’t know what the school policy is on hitting, and I don’t know why nothing has been done about you yet, but I know what my policy is, and I know what I’m capable of doing. I promise you, the next time you lay a hand on anyone here, I will make sure you lose the hand.” He is forced to meet my eye, not because I forcefully turn his head or anything, but my tone of voice leaves him no choice but to take me seriously.

“You can’t do that. You can’t threaten a parent, you can’t stop me from seeing my own son.”

“Haven’t you heard? I’m a Langdale, I do whatever the hell I want.”