Disclaimer: I do not own Numb3rs and make no profit from this story. I barely have enough money to buy the medicine to cure my Flu-like symptoms. You'd be wasting your time in sueing me. Nor do I own William Faulkner, Tom Brady, Eli Manning, or the Koi. I do however own a very well written in copy of Light In August.
Author's Note: This originally started out as a challenge from Numb3rs dot org. It somehow grew to where I roped myself into including: William Faulkner, the challenge words (heaving and throbbing), Football (it started out after my depression from the Superbowl), and the poor koi.
"Memory believes before knowing remembers. Believes longer than recollects, longer than knowing even wonders."
'Blah, Blah, Blah,' thirteen year old Charlie Eppes thought. He gave his third sigh in ten minutes and tried to regain focus on his reading.
Page seventy two of Light In August peered up at him, unfaltering with its black and white gaze. It was surprising that he had made it to page seventy two.
Charlie didn't like William Faulkner and William Faulkner didn't like him. In fact, his head was throbbing from the Faulkner induced headache. There weren't even any numbers in this book for the genius to compute; page numbers and chapter titles didn't count.
However, Mrs. Sherrie loved Faulkner, meaning that Charlie and the rest of his senior English class had to love Faulkner too.
A thump broke Charlie's mental rant. He whipped up from his slouched position on the couch, turning around with his curls flying to look out into the backyard.
Upon further investigation, the 'thump' was a football. It lay on the patio stones, wobbling left and right.
At the sight of his older brother, Charlie stood and walked to the door. With the hated English book in his left hand, he used his right to open the door and stepped out into the backyard.
"Hey, Buddy. Reading Mrs. Sherrie's homework?" Don asked, noticing the book in Charlie's hand as he bent down to retrieve the football.
Charlie grimaced. "Yeah. Hey, what are you doing with a football?"
The eighteen year old baseball player was just that: a baseball player. Don used to play hockey and he sometimes would join the other neighborhood kids in a spur of the moment basketball game. But his older brother had been wielding a bat since he was three.
Hence why it was a little odd that Don was now tossing the strange ball up into the air.
Up. Down. Up. Down. "This? Oh, big football game down in the park. Just some of the guys, but it turned into this huge rival game between Eli and Tom. Tom needed another guy."
Charlie grinned, enthusiasm in his voice. "Who won? Did you score?"
Shaking his head, Don lobbed and easy ball to him that he could catch with his right hand. "Nah. Didn't score, but I got a good hit in on Eli. He won though."
One handed, Charlie threw a wobbly pass back. "I bet Tom was mad."
His brother laughed, head thrown back, juggling the brown ball back and forth. "Oh yeah. Tom was pretty pissed. And disappointed too. We lost in the last minute. But Tom was good about it. Shook hands and said he'd get Eli next weekend."
A few minutes went by, Don throwing the ball up into the air, Charlie watching his big brother, the rest of the back yard going about its business.
Finally, Don paused in his actions and gave Charlie a look. "You better finish that chapter. Mrs. Sherrie is testing us on Monday."
"She is?" Charlie frowned. That meant he actually had to finish this chapter. "I hate this book."
Don's eyes twinkled and he gave him a grin. "Awww. It's not that bad. I kind of like it." The last part was admitted with a sheepish shrug.
This was news to Charlie. His brother usually was not a fan of their English class. "I still hate it."
The tiny splashes from the water filtering into the koi pond gave the thirteen year old genius a sudden idea.
Before he knew what he was doing, Charlie heaved William Faulkner's grand masterpiece through the air.
Both brothers watched it arc, and for once, because Charlie usually didn't have the best aim in the world, his throw was dead on.
Charlie's copy of Light In August landed with a mighty splash, plopping into the koi pond and sending water up into the air.
Looking over at his brother, Charlie exchanged a look with Don. No words were spoken as together they rushed over to their parent's beloved pond.
"Are they… dead?" Charlie whispered over Don's shoulder.
Don reached in and plucked up the floating book. "I think you just scared them."
Charlie gave a sigh of relief as his brother's words proved to be correct. The orange koi came out of hiding after a minute, going back to swimming in lazy circles.
Giving a small whistle, Don handed over the now wet book. "Here. You better hope that dries."
He took it and looked up at Don. "Why?"
Don walked back over to the football and picked it up. Another toss into the air and another catch. "'Cause Mrs. Sherrie is going to get all over you for ruining her favorite book."
Charlie groaned and hung his head. This non-number related book was going to be the death of him.
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