Chapter One: Student-Teacher Relations
The date was November fourteenth, 2003. It was a chilly day, quite normal for the season. Actually, everything about this day was considerably normal. And as far as Alan Powers –or 'The Brain', as his friends called him- was concerned, there was absolutely nothing that could spoil this day.
He had been handed back an arithmetic test he'd taken several days previous, and he couldn't have been more pleased with the results. A perfect one hundred. Nothing Alan hadn't expected, of course. He was an ideal student, and anything less than one hundred simply would not do.
But it was not the results of the test that had put him in such high spirits. It was the beautifully scribed note his teacher, one Nigel Ratburn, had written on the back of the paper.
Alan, it read.
Another work of sheer genius. It's all I expect from my best student! Although, there is one thing I'd like to discuss with you. Something I think we'll both find to be of utmost urgency. Would you be available to come visit me at my home Saturday afternoon? My address is 37 Willowdale Avenue. Hope to see you there.
Mr. Ratburn
Recognition had always been something Alan craved, and to receive from his favorite teacher made him practically glow with pride. He couldn't help but wonder, however, what Mr. Ratburn could possibly want to see him over the weekend about.
But it was no matter for The Brain. If Mr. Ratburn thought that this matter was important enough to have to be discussed in the privacy of his home, then Alan wouldn't dare question it.
After school that day, Arthur, along with Buster and Binky, approached Alan. It was Thursday, the day the three of them usually spent together at The Sugar Bowl. But on that particular day, the prospect of spending the afternoon with his much less intelligent friends didn't appeal to him. So he quickly thought up a lie about having homework to complete and went home instead.
His mother greeted him at the door, asking about his test. He realized that if his mother were to see Mr. Ratburn's message, she simply wouldn't understand. She would most likely forbid him from going to see Mr. Ratburn on Saturday, and he couldn't imagine disappointing him.
So, for the second time that day, Alan found himself lying to someone he held dear. He thought quickly, saying that Mr. Ratburn had re-collected the tests for further grading. Mrs. Powers had looked rather suspicious, but she didn't press the matter.
Alan tossed and turned in his bed that night. No matter how hard he tried, sleep simply would not come to him. For reasons unknown, he found himself thinking about Mr. Ratburn. The way his whiskers always looked so nice and trim, his soft, chocolate eyes, the way he always called on Alan first...
And when Aland finally did drift off to sleep, his dreams were full of Mr. Ratburn. Really, the man was an academic genius, and was Alan's primary role model. Alan would even go as far as to say that he considered himself and Mr. Ratburn to be very dear friends. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with friends visiting friends... right?
Friday passed in the blink of an eye, and before Alan knew it, his alarm clock was waking him bright and early on Saturday morning. He woke with a grin already on his face; he just knew that day was going to one of the best of his young life.
He told his mother that he was going out to meet Arthur, Francine, Muffy, Sue-Ellen and Binky at The Sugar Bowl that afternoon. She agreed to drop him off at noon, and a little smile crept across his face. He planned to have his mother drop him off at the Sugar Bowl, and then once she drove away, he would simply walk to Mr. Ratburn's house. It was foolproof, as long as he got back to The Sugar Bowl by four-thirty, when she would pick him up again.
At eleven o'clock, Alan began to ready himself for his special meeting with Mr. Ratburn. He clothed himself in his best dress shirt –a mint green Oxford- and put on a bottle of his best cologne. I hope Mr. Ratburn will like this scent, he thought to himself.
His mother raised an eyebrow at his outfit, but said nothing about it. The drive to The Sugar Bowl seemed like it lasted an eternity to Alan. His hands shook in nervous anticipation, and he couldn't help but tap his foot obsessively on the floor of the car.
Just when The Brain thought he was set to explode with eagerness, the car rolled up to The Sugar Bowl. His mother kissed his cheek and told him to have a nice day and just like that, she was gone.
It was during the walk to Mr. Ratburn's house that Alan began to doubt himself. What if Mr. Ratburn isn't at home? He fretted. What if he wasn't serious about me coming to visit him? Should I just go back to The Sugar Bowl?
But no, he'd come that far. There would have been no point in turning back then. After all, Mr. Ratburn didn't appreciate cowardice. What would he think of Alan if he turned back without even seeing if he was there?
There it was. 37 Willowdale Avenue. It was a small, quaint brick home on the very corner of the street. It was charming, with a stone pathway leading up to the door and a trail of smoke emerging from the chimney. Just the sort of house Alan would imagine Mr. Ratburn to live in.
Before he could lose his nerve, Alan traversed the pathway and lifted a trembling fist to the door. But before he could even knock, the door swung open, and there he was. Alan's jaw dropped.
Mr. Ratburn was splayed across the door jam, his furry brown knee raised and his head leaned against the doorway. He was scantily clad in a burgundy leisure robe, a long, black cigarette holder held suggestively between his teeth.
"You kept waiting, Alan," Mr. Ratburn blew a long trail of smoke from his lips. It drifted to Alan's face, causing him to cough loudly.
"S-sorry, sir," Alan stuttered.
"Please, Alan. You're much too formal. I insist you call me Nigel," Mr. Ratburn said.
"Yes sir... Erm, Nigel," The Brain felt his cheeks grow hot. He'd never called an adult by their first name before, let alone a teacher!
"That's more like it. Now, come in," Mr. Ratburn moved from the door and disappeared into the house.
Alan stood on the doorway for a moment, weighing the situation in his head. Mr. Ratburn sure is acting weird... he thought. I wonder if this was such a good idea...
"Alan, you know I detest being kept waiting!" Mr. Ratburn's voice called from inside.
"I'm coming," Alan swallowed his concern and entered the house.
Little did he know, what he was about to witness would change his life forever.