8. Loyalties
Alina woke up early the next day – it was Monday, and she had to go to work. The sound of her door opening woke Erik up instantly every time, if he even slept that long. She tried to be quiet, but Erik doubted she could be that quiet; he'll be damned if after thirty years anything catches him by surprise.
That's not true. Yesterday she did surprise me. What will our life be like now? I've never been in a situation remotely close to this. I have nothing to go by. How am I supposed to act?
He had nothing to do today, he realized as he lay in bed looking at the ceiling. He'd handed in all he meant to do for the park and Jack had told him he'd handle the rest until the construction started after New Year's. Erik had no plans for what he'd do after, and given the… everything that happened yesterday he didn't even think about it until now.
Since he was already awake, he decided he might as well get up and wish her a good morning. He got dressed and put on the mask quickly before going out. He still had no clue how to act.
Alina was by the stove already, making coffee. She turned when she saw him, smiling.
"Come here. I can't move or this will explode."
He obediently walked up to her. "Good morning." He was unsure what to do – he wanted to hold her, but what if she changed her mind after yesterday? He wasn't too eager to find out. What if she just pushed him away? The possibility made him sick.
Alina leaned toward Erik, wrapping one arm around him while stirring with the other. "Good morning to you too." The wide, genuine smile she gave him melted some of his insecurity.
Does that mean I can do whatever I want?
It meant something at least, he thought. He put his arm around her shoulders. "Classes today?"
I'm a proper Don Juan in my spare time, and I excel at talking to women.
"Yes. Thank God it's only one more week until I can lock the door for the holidays. You have no idea how impossible they get this time of year. They'd talk about anything other than the intended subject. Wait", she said, releasing him to pour coffee into two small cups. "I suppose you want some too? What are you doing today?"
"Nothing. I don't know. I might write."
"Write?" Alina took out some bread and started slicing it.
"Write music. I haven't written anything down in a while. I have some ideas."
"Can I hear it later?" Alina smiled. She loved hearing him play.
"I doubt it." She looked at him in surprise. "It's not violin music. It requires an orchestra, which I don't have."
"Oh. But if you did have an entire orchestra…" Alina raised her eyebrows in question.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I don't have one, as it is. I'll play you the parts I can." Erik shrugged as she sat down by the table, and he thought for a moment before deciding to sit across her, as he had always done before.
"When are you coming back?" he said before he could stop himself. I am very good at keeping women wanting as well. Not clingy at all. Desmond would be proud.
"The school finishes around two, but I have something to discuss with the principal later. I don't know. I'll try not to take too long", she replied. "If you have no other plans, we could have dinner together when I come back."
"You're inviting me to have dinner with you? Isn't that a bit backwards?" It was not as if he would refuse, but he would have liked to have a chance to invite her first.
It dawned on Erik he might have to be quicker around her, or one day she might ask him to marry her before he had the chance to do it himself. Not likely, freak. Don't forget.
She squinted at him, somewhat annoyed. "Sorry. I just wanted to ask you, it didn't occur to me we had to follow proper decorum. You've noticed already I'm not very ladylike."
"I don't mind that. You just have to let me do something first, for a change." It actually made him feel a lot less uneasy knowing that she had no idea what she was doing either. Not to mention it was incredibly amusing to watch her blush when he pointed it out.
"Fine", she sighed. "Sorry."
"But I accept. I'll wait for you." I absolutely hate waiting.
They spent the rest of the morning eating breakfast in relaxed silence. Alina put her hair into a bun, shoved her papers into a bag and wrapped a scarf around her face and neck while Erik sat and stared outside, lost in thought.
"Good luck with writing!" It jerked him back into reality. Alina was already standing by the door, holding her bag with a sparkle in her eyes, ready to go out. She's so lovely, Erik thought for the thousandth time he'd seen her standing by the door in the morning, wishing him a good day as she would leave. Every time it happened, he wished he could just go up to her and –
He could do that. He got up and walked to her, stopping right in front of her and lowering her scarf just a little bit from her face. He leaned to leave a light kiss right at the corner of her mouth, holding her cheek with his hand.
"Have a nice day."
She smiled and turned around, leaving with a little more skip in her step than usual.
ooo
The house was incredibly silent after Alina left. Erik usually enjoyed the peace and quiet, but today it was… awkward. Misplaced. He needed to distract himself. He pulled out his violin and started playing, but gave up after a short while because he couldn't focus. He couldn't draw, either. He didn't even try reading. In lack of other ideas, he just started cleaning – first, he tidied up all of his papers, then he folded all of his shirts, then he tided some more again, washed the dishes – thank God I insisted we get decent plumbing as soon as possible, he thought to himself for the hundredth time – dusted every single horizontal surface he could find, and in the end, to feel a little less emasculated, he headed outside to chop some firewood. The repetitive movements and sounds of splicing logs calmed him down. He kept thinking about yesterday's events the entire time. He had thought having something this beautiful happen would make him more inspired, but today it was just making him anxious. This was such a strange situation that nothing felt real. He'd have to get used to it before he could do anything else in his life, he thought.
Oh, but will I ever get used to it? He stopped every so often in the middle of his work, stuck in a daydream – remembering Alina's tender fingers, her soft skin and sweet smile. He shook his head, hoping she wouldn't come home to see him standing still and smiling to himself like a fool.
Yana interrupted him in the middle of woodcutting and daydreaming.
"Erik?"
Erik jumped a little, thankful that she couldn't guess what he was thinking. Yana was the only person he had ever met who was quiet enough to regularly sneak up on him, particularly when he was distracted like this.
"Hello", he turned around.
"You're home alone this week, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Could you stay with Pjotr, then? If you're not busy", she hurried, "I have some more shifts, in the kitchen instead of Eliza. She's sick. It will be a great chance for me. And Pjotr misses you."
"Of course. Anytime." Erik had to admit he actually missed Pjotr as well.
"No need for anytime", she waved her hands. "I'll be home at two. If you need to go somewhere, you can leave him with Svetlana."
Erik knew Svetlana; she lived nearby and spent a lot of time with Yana. She knew him too, and did her best to avoid him. Annoying little woman.
I'll endure it.
"Alright. Just tell her about it. I don't want her to make a scene if I show up on her doorstep."
Yana grinned. "No scene. She won't dare."
"Is tomorrow alright? I have something to do today, and…" Erik trailed off. He had nothing to do until Alina came home, but he was too absent-minded to trust himself with a child, particularly one as full of energy as Pjotr.
"And someone to meet", Yana said. "How are you?"
"Why? I'm fine." Why wouldn't I be? What do you know?
She shrugged. "Good."
"Why?" Erik insisted.
"Because you're in love, and I think you're not taking it well", she laughed.
"How am I supposed to be taking it?"
"I don't know. Men never take it well. It's always something serious", Yana replied. "But you're my friend, so I have to ask."
"Well, I am fine." I am not fine.
She gave him a look he couldn't really decipher. "I'm happy you listened to me."
"I didn't. She kissed me first." Yana was easy to talk to, Erik realized long ago. He didn't mind confiding in her; she seemed so far removed from the real world – like a fairy of some sort – that telling her almost anything felt safe. Like whispering your secrets to the stars, without fear of judgment or scrutiny.
"Oh, I knew she will. I didn't mean that. I just wanted you to let her", she said, pale fairy eyes flickering at him mischievously.
Alina was late. Two o'clock came and went, and she should have been back already. Erik waited, trying to be patient, but he couldn't focus on anything. Why isn't she home? It normally took twenty minutes from the school to their house; Alina could cross the distance in fifteen. Three o'clock passed. It was half past four now, and Erik was mad with worry. Where would she be?
Did she run away?
That was not probable. All of her things were still here. If she wanted to leave she could have just said so; she knew he couldn't go after her or stop her. It was likely she got delayed at school. Maybe she had a lot of work to do. She'd been late before, and Erik normally didn't ask her anything since he normally had a lot of work to do himself.
Did something happen?
Also not probable. It was the middle of the day and she was capable of taking care of herself.
Why is she not home, then?
There was no point in thinking about it anymore. She'll be back.
What else could I possibly think about? What if she needs me?
Well then, I should just go look for her and stop this nonsense. Erik hated going out in crowded places, he hated going out in the day, but he'd live. He'd bundle himself up until no-one could see a single inch of his skin and he could walk around a bit, just to be sure. He didn't have to get too close to the school, or anybody. If he couldn't find her, he could just go to Jack.
ooo
The freezing air cleared his mind somewhat, and it seemed as if he'd been somewhat irrational. Alina was probably fine. He was letting his paranoia get the better of him – although, now that he was out already, he might as well commit to it. He could always say he just wanted to walk home with her. Wouldn't that be creepy? No, if a normal man did that, it would be romantic. Let's go with that.
As he approached the school, Erik realized he'd made a mistake. What was he thinking? There were so many people, mostly children, around that he'd much rather sink into shadows than stay there a minute longer. He was not going inside, and didn't want to get too close either, so he decided to just pick a secluded place to wait for her. The crowd of people leaving the building and walking around the street made him nervous. Where are you? Why can't I find you?
Suddenly, a female voice from somewhere ahead of him yelled, "This shouldn't be up to debate! This is a school for children, not for adults to look good!"
This was easier than I expected.
He moved closer to the voice, feeling less uneasy now that he had a direction and someone familiar at the end of the way. He spotted them in front of the school – he had to avoid a horde of children going the other way; luckily, the classes had ended so the crowd soon cleared a bit. Alina was talking loudly, waving her hands around and seemingly furious. Next to her was Jack, and another man was just leaving back inside, looking equally frustrated. Erik walked up to them to listen quietly. He didn't actually know what Alina had to talk to the principal about, but he had a feeling he was about to find out.
"I'm asking you to just be pragmatic for once –" Jack started, trying to sound calm.
"Pragmatic? Pragmatic? You think it's pragmatic to kick a child out of school because we can't be bothered to deal with him?" Alina was decidedly not trying to sound calm.
"We have bothered to deal with him, and it didn't work! He's a disruption for everyone else, and other children are suffering!"
She fumed for a moment before continuing. "That's not going to work on me! I'm not casting a child away like that! Either the school is for everyone, or it's a mockery of its purpose!"
Jack threw his arms in the air exasperatedly, turning to Erik. "Has your darling always been this stubborn?"
"Yes, she's a nightmare sometimes", he replied. Jack grinned at him. Alina barely registered what he'd said, but she automatically started yelling at both of them.
"You're supposed to be on my side!"
"I absolutely am not supposed to do anything. Why am I involved in this?"
"Because it's the right thing to do!" She said, wide-eyed. Erik saw Jack in the corner of his eye, taking an annoyed breath to interrupt her, and sensed a disaster just a moment before it happened.
"You're being impertinent and unreasonable-"
"This school is his only chance to-"
Erik could not stand people yelling in his vicinity for very long. He had to close his eyes, taking a deep breath and rubbing his temples before he might say or do something he'd regret just to make them stop. Alina took the cue and shut up immediately, Jack following.
"One by one, if you must", he said slowly.
"Alright", said Jack, taking the chance while Alina was gathering her thoughts, "They have a problematic boy in school and the principal wants to expel him. His grades are horrendous and he's a nuisance to other kids. Alina, on the other hand, is insisting to keep him. Insisting rather aggressively, might I add, and now I have to talk to one very upset school principal."
"Alright? Why?" he turned to her.
She'd had enough time to calm down, thank God, and she continued quietly, "The boy is severely abused at home. I'm afraid what will happen to him if he stops coming to school."
Oh.
Jack chimed in again. "Yes, there's a suspicion that he's abused, but he's now abusing other kids and we'd all really prefer to get their parents off our backs."
Alina puffed, irritated. "Suspicion? Have you ever fallen down stairs and woken up with a bruise in the shape of a handprint around your neck? Or tried to light a furnace and ended up with burns that happen to look exactly like cigarette burns on your forearms?"
No, but he had often in his life told stupid lies to cover the real cause of his injuries; but that, he thought, wasn't important right now. "What do you normally do in these situations?" Erik asked, now curious.
"Nothing!" Alina shouted, on the verge of tears, "Nobody cares about kids like him! We can call the police, but they can't really do much. If he keeps acting out there's nothing we can do, because no one will want to deal with him! They sometimes send kids like him to special schools and juvenile homes, but he hasn't committed an actual crime and his parents don't care enough to get him help! It's all a circle of, of people pushing him away and him feeling abandoned and acting out to get noticed!"
"What would you do, then?"
"I don't know yet." She wiped a tear from her cheek before continuing. "But I'll think of something, and it's worth trying. We can't kick him out. He keeps coming every day; he never misses a single class. He argues and fights and gets in trouble, and he fails at everything, but he still comes."
"Maybe he has to", Jack chimed in. "Maybe that's why he's so angry all the time. His parents make him come even though he can't handle the schoolwork?"
"No, I don't think so", she shook her head. "If they did, they'd make the effort to follow his progress. They've never so much as signed a single thing, let alone showed up in school. No, they seem more like the type that would prefer to send him off to work somewhere. Besides, he is competent enough to handle it, it's obvious." She turned to Jack. "Listen, I really, really need to try and help this child. If you can buy me some more time, I'll be eternally grateful. I promise I'll think of something, it doesn't hurt to try. Just tell them to postpone it. Please!"
Jack looked at her, then at Erik, then at her again. "You still have all the other children to deal with. Wouldn't you rather focus on other things?"
"Please, Jack. I'll try, and if it doesn't work, they can do whatever they want."
"It might turn out well", Erik offered. Everything about this was telling him it was a small chance it would turn out well, but he couldn't help but feel bad about the child. And for Alina, fighting a futile and most likely thankless battle for some outcast kid she barely knew. Antoinette, is this how you felt? I'm sorry. It looks like trying to push back an avalanche with a rake.
Jack sighed. "I'll see what I can do."
"Thank you! Thank you!" she nearly jumped in excitement, but stopped herself when she remembered she was in her workplace. "Thank you, Jack! We'll think of something, you'll see!"
"Don't thank me yet. You put this job on your own shoulders." He shrugged. "Now, I've actually had enough of talking about work. Don't you two have somewhere to be? Your knight came all the way to your castle to pick you up. Show some gratitude."
Alina turned to Erik in surprise. "Right. Weren't you supposed to be home today?"
"I was. You were late."
"Sorry. I was busy. Principal Dowling is a hard person to talk to."
"Frankly", Jack chimed in again, "He's usually not, it's just that you're so incredibly, annoyingly arrogant with him."
"I am not! I just told him what I think!"
"Exactly. While I find it charming that you pay no mind to status and power of people around you, you'll have to be a bit more careful, as a twenty-five year old teacher talking to a forty year old man who happens to be your boss at the moment", Jack crossed his arms, looking at her sternly.
"I've been successful so far", she looked away, embarrassed.
"Oh, absolutely. You're a very successful manipulator until you get too angry, at which point you just throw all reason out the window and ramble furiously about what is right and why people have to do something. Nobody has to do anything. You have to convince them they want to."
"Fine", she said quietly.
"Hey, if you can do it with kids, you can do it with adults too. They're the same, they just have longer arms", Jack said.
She chuckled. "Alright."
"Can we please go now?" Erik asked. This place was still loud and crowded and annoying.
"Go ahead", said Jack, "I'll go off to control your damage." He pointed his finger at Alina.
"Sorry, Jack."
"I'll live", he grinned sharply. "You're like a dynamite explosion, Alina. You're the most effective person I've ever seen at what you do, but I do wish you had fewer collaterals. And you're expensive." He waved his hand at them both before heading back inside the school. Erik put a hand to his mouth, trying not to laugh.
"What's so funny?" She asked him.
"That's a very accurate description." he straightened himself.
"Oh, is it? And which instrument of destruction would you compare yourself to?"
"Cyanide", Erik replied without missing a beat, smiling proudly. It's something he'd thought about.
"Why?"
"Because I'm toxic to people who try to contain me, and nobody notices me until it's too late."
"Yes. You're also very bitter, so that works", she narrowed her eyes at him.
Touché.
"Let's go home", she sighed. "Let's just have something to eat and relax. I had a long day."
They walked home in silence through the freshly fallen snow. Alina looked like someone walked over her; the skip in her step from this morning was replaced with a furrowed brow and slouching shoulders. She didn't even comment on the beautiful scene.
I should do something to comfort her.
They entered the house and she shrugged off her coat, sinking into the armchair and covering her face with her hands.
I really should think of something to comfort her. He had no idea what, but he had to try, at least; he made some tea and sandwiches while she sulked, and brought them to her, pulling up a chair to sit next to her.
"What's wrong?" Erik tried his best to sound sympathetic.
"I'm a disaster, and I have no idea how to solve this situation", she said.
"You're not a disaster", he started slowly, trying to find the right words. "This didn't go as you planned, but it's nothing disastrous."
"The only reason they're putting up with me there is because they're afraid of Jack", Alina said, waving her hands around and swallowing back tears. It always perplexed Erik when she got into conflicts with such fury and conviction and collapsed in self-doubt as soon as they were over. He wondered what made her this way. At least she's not silently hiding her face anymore.
"I don't think so. You've been there since the beginning. I think they're keeping you because you're very good at what you do, and you care about children. You're fighting because you care about this boy, even though clearly nobody else is bothered." he took a moment to think. "Even if you don't think of anything else to do with him, knowing that you fought for him will certainly make an impact on him. Trust me."
"I don't think they care about that. They want him to stop bothering others."
"But you care about that, don't you?" He looked straight at her. "You've been stupidly idealistic and irrationally loyal to people since I've met you, and now you've offered to sacrifice your time and energy for some child you barely know. You absolutely do care about helping, even a little bit."
"I do", she looked at him angrily, "and it's not stupid!"
"Yes, it is. But it's admirable." I'd rather look at my hands, actually. "It's because of that stupidity that I'm alive. You're something rare and incredible, and you can change people's lives. Jack might be right that you need to adapt to the world around you to get better results, but I think that the same thing that gets you in trouble is what I admire the most about you. You truly do believe what you say. And it might be what changes people's minds in the end. It's what changed my mind, when I met you."
Is it possible that I've made Alina speechless? She stared at him, somewhat shaken.
"That is the loveliest thing you could have said to me."
"I meant it", Erik shrugged.
Alina took her cup and took a sip, still looking at him intently. "Thank you."
"Alright."
"You've grown to be just as crucial as a pillar of support in my life as you claim I am in yours", she admitted quietly. "I feel better. I'll do my best in this mess."
Really? Erik couldn't remember if anyone had ever depended on him willingly in such a way. It was frightening, but at the same time he felt… needed. He didn't know what to say.
They sat in silence for a while, drinking tea. The distance between them was too big for Erik's taste, and he wanted to reach out to her, but had no idea how. Was this an inappropriate time?
"Can I kiss you now?" he said, regretting it as soon as it left his mouth.
She looked at him in confusion. "Of course you can. You can kiss me anytime, you don't have to ask."
"Pardon. I wasn't sure if the moment was right. I'm not really, uh, experienced with... social situations." That didn't help. He needed to stop rambling. "And I won't do it, if you decide you don't want it."
Alina was openly outraged now. "If I just suddenly change my mind? It doesn't work that way- listen, just kiss me already!"
That was explicit enough for him.
Setting aside his cup, Erik lowered himself off the chair until he was kneeling on the floor before her. She fumbled a little; Erik realized this was probably not a usual thing to do, but he didn't care. He took her hand and lightly nudged her toward him, stopping her just as she got to the edge of the armchair, cupping her face with his free hand as he reached to kiss her.
Erik's head emptied once again and only warmth remained. Softness and warmth were sensations he'd grown resigned to live without, never expecting he'd one day experience an abundance of both. They would kick him out of his orbit every time; he was not sure if he could ever get used to this.
He decided to pull away before he got a little too warm.
Alina remained close to his face; looking at Erik the way no one had ever looked at him before. She ran her thumb along his jaw, and he flinched as she brushed against the edge of the mask.
"What did I do?"
"Nothing, just", he shrugged, embarrassed. "Don't take it off."
"I'm careful", she said. "Trust me. I won't do that if you don't want me to."
Erik nodded, relaxing a little. Her fingers started tracing all over his face, then running through his hair only to go back and stroke his cheeks lightly. He could barely feel it though the leather, but he didn't care.
"But if you did want me to, I'd gladly do it", she said, looking straight into his eyes.
That may even be true, but it's not something I want to think about right now. I'd rather enjoy this moment as it is, in its unbelievably beautiful simplicity.
Erik decided he'd already thrown all pretense of dignity out the window, so he might as well do as he pleased; he lowered his head to rest on her lap. She didn't seem to mind, as her fingers continued running along his face and gently stroking his hair. His heartbeat slowly returned to normal.
ooo
Jack entered the school furiously, going straight to the principal's office.
Alina, God damn her. She knew better than this; he would never have bothered associating himself with someone stupid and she was absolutely not stupid. It was partially his fault for letting her continue too long. If you let people talk long enough, they'll bury themselves every time. It was a fact Alina knew as well, but alas, she forgot it too often. Young people. Always so eager to be heard.
He went upstairs, carefully collecting his thoughts. He noticed the school was in a much better state than when he first picked out this building; it was built on sturdy foundations and now that they've replaced all the old walls and put in new windows it was a perfectly fine establishment, on par with public schools in New York. Even if it was a bit ugly. It had that grey, depressing factory look poor schools had; where everything is in a more or less working condition, but nothing is particularly new or pretty. The bare essentials are there, but everybody is too overworked and overstressed to bother with details and embellishments. Jack knew the look well. He went to one of those schools himself.
What is actually better for this school? That was a good question. What is actually better for us? That was an even better question, and Jack didn't have an answer to either of those. Alina would blindly insist on getting her way because she saw a kid in trouble and suddenly nothing else mattered. She was normally very calculated and composed and paired with her fearless efficiency it was a winning combination; this sudden switch to irrationality that turned whenever something tickled her sympathy was the only thing that prevented her from ever being a truly remarkable business associate.
Although it seemed to be the very thing that led her to him, so there was that. It also seemed to have something to do with the fact her mysterious knight kept himself under control; Jack had seen that kind of seething, barely-concealed instability before and was honestly quite impressed by how well it was being repressed. And he has been incredibly useful; a real goldmine. Erik was the source of ideas that Jack turned into money, and Alina kept him on the right side of the thin line between genius and insanity. It would be wise not to let her down or this whole house of cards might crumple. Was it wise to work with them, then? They seemed to him unstable and immature, and he wanted nothing more than stability and some goddamn peace and quiet while he makes a nice living for himself. Ideals were nice and all; he'd had plenty of them and engaging hers has been refreshing so far. But not if it kept interfering with his plans.
On the other hand, Jack had to admit begrudgingly, they're so incredibly amusing. Maybe even endearing. And I can always find someone else if they actually turn out to be useless.
He knocked on Dowling's door.
"I'm busy", a familiar voice replied through the wood.
"Good", he smiled his best smile as he entered. "No-one will bother us, then."
Stan looked up from his papers to stare at Jack. "Franklin. Your little protégée is giving me a headache. Please go away." I'm so incredibly glad she's not here to get pissed at being called a little protégée, Jack thought. Stanley was a somewhat nervous man – small, round glasses, tidy moustache, neatly pressed suit. He was short, but athletic; always kept himself disciplined in all things. Always secretly afraid of the unknown and unpredictable, hidden behind a neat, composed mask. No wonder she was giving him a headache; she'd give him kidney stones soon enough.
Now that Alina was not around, Jack had some time to notice his surroundings. The room was a small, but airy space with only a desk, chair and large bookshelf on the wall. Everything was neat; there was a glass of water on the table - on a reasonable distance from any piece of paper. Jack would bet his own eyes that the books on the shelf are organized alphabetically.
He remembered Stan from when they were young. Always so eager to keep things in check. A bit of a prick, really – rigid and humourless – but ultimately couldn't stay mad at people for too long. Jack hoped this spinelessness would turn out to be a stable trait in Stan's adulthood.
"Ah, isn't she? Imagine only the headaches I get." Jack winked. "I'm here to solve our problem, Stanley." He sat comfortably on the empty chair across from Stan before he had a chance to stop him. "From what I've gathered, she's rather wilful lately. Is Tilyou the one keeping her here?"
Stan sighed. "Yes. I wonder what she did to get this far. And now she has all these ideas about how I should run my own school. Insufferable. I never thought I'd say this, but maybe we should have kept women at home."
"Ah, I might agree. Sadly, I can only imagine what she did to get here; good old George either keeps his honeys secret, or she has something other on him. I bet she isn't even that good; you can always recognize the ones that climb through special means. Always more attitude than work", Jack waved his hand in pretend frustration.
Stan looked at him suspiciously. He may have been too obvious. "Actually, Franklin, she's rather remarkable on the outside. I thought you knew this. Her children are successful and well-behaved for the most part. We don't have trouble with her classes."
"Not surprising. I bet George arranged for her to get the best classes."
Stan sighed. "He did."
"How does she even have a say in this matter, then? She wouldn't even know this kid, much less have worked with him. What kind of connections did she pull?" Jack feigned his annoyance with the kind of passion he rarely showed with genuine emotions. He could guess the answer, but he'd much rather hear it aloud.
Stan suddenly narrowed his eyes. "Actually, George did put her in the best classes, and I heard he was pressed by someone unknown. That was before. We put her with small kids until she gets necessary qualifications to be an official teacher, but she's been infiltrating other classes. She offered to take children that other teachers kept sending outside, and made a special class for them. She stays after school thrice a week and gives them additional lessons to help them keep up, or takes them outside. Why the kids agree to that, I have no idea. None of them were eager to come to school before, and now they're here all the time. Including this little bastard."
"Oh, goddamn", Jack put his hand to his mouth in an impressive display of annoyance, concealing his smile. "And now you have to deal with them all? What a mess."
"Frankly", Stan finally admitted, "we do, but it's much quieter lately."
"Ah, but what kind of discipline is that? If a child won't behave, they need to be taught a lesson. Going to school is a privilege, not a right. What kind of message are you sending?"
Stan got up and walked around. "That's what I've been saying, but guess what? I've been talking to some people around New York. They're planning to introduce mandatory schooling until age 14 within the next few years, and apparently it means we can't kick those little insolent brats out! We'll have to put up with them soon enough or we'll face both public and legal consequences!"
Jack was convincingly appalled. "So you're saying the law is changing, and she's the only one you currently have in here who knows how to handle those kids?"
"Yes! She's costing me a fortune, what with all the projects and nonsense she pulls, but it seems that we need her to keep the others in check! She's the best we have when it comes to difficult and problematic kids! Frankly, if she left, I'm not surprised if other benefactors objected and not just Tilyou, because we'd have a lot more delinquency around!" Stan paused in the middle of his pacing, realizing what he'd just said.
"So you have to keep Boricevic in this school unless you want to unleash a whole lot of mess in a couple of years? Honestly, Stan, I don't envy you. I remember how you always hated mess and disobedience. This position is perfect for you; it keeps you on a healthy distance from it." Jack cracked his knuckles. Not to mention how useless and disposable Stan would be in a situation that he couldn't keep in control, but he felt like saying that out loud wasn't necessary. If Alina had a lick of sense, she would let the chaos unfold on its own without getting on anyone's nerves and then climb the ladder after her bosses prove to be incompetent. It's a shame that she'd never think of that herself. "So what of this kid, Walter Preston? He doesn't sound like an immigrant."
"No, he's from here. His parents are born American. They're just poor enough to live in a slum with the rest."
"A white kid, then?"
"Yes. Why?" Stan frowned with suspicion.
"I reckon that goes to his advantage, in the eyes of the public." Jack smiled.
"What are you saying, Franklin?" Stan was catching on, but he was still years behind him.
"I don't know. It just seemed to me that he would instil some sympathy and sorrow into the bleeding hearts of dear old ladies who read the newspaper if he was suddenly cast out, so miserable and problematic and misunderstood. Healthy American boy, not good enough for a school that puts up with those dirty immigrants." Jack studied his hand carefully, fearing he might burst into laughter if he looked at Stan's face. "It seems that our wilful little miss is on your side, really. The side of… peace and quiet, so to speak."
If you let people talk long enough, they'll bury themselves every time, Jack thought, heading home to have a nice hearty dinner. Thank you, Stan. I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep doing this, but you've helped me make up my mind.
Goddamned Walter Preston better be a saint after Alina is finished with him.
ooo
Antoinette,
I received your last letter. Thank you, but there was no need for that in the end. We managed to settle it amongst ourselves. I would have preferred to hear more about your life as well; I hope you're doing fine. Please write if you need anything. I read in the newspaper that the Opera is completely restored – are you back at work? I hope nobody blamed you for anything. As far as I can remember, I've destroyed any evidence of us being connected, aside from witnesses. If you wish, I could come back to destroy the witnesses as well.
I'm sorry for causing you all that trouble.
I took Alina to see Central Park because Jack told me it would be "irresistibly romantic" and since I'm not a particularly desirable suitor I thought I might at least try to be charming. We went in the evening when there weren't so many people around; it's so cold here that almost nobody notices me outside. I like winter – it shifts people's priorities to minding their own business.
For the record, Central Park is enormous and it looks exquisite at night, especially when it's buried in fresh snow and dimly lit by streetlamps. I'm enclosing a picture. Alina also looks exquisite when she's smiling in the light of streetlamps. I had a nice time.
What I didn't expect was that apparently Croatian people are everywhere; as we walked through the streets of Lower Manhattan Alina told me that there is a whole society of Croatian people in America[1]. She has recently been writing letters to them for advice on getting her citizenship and all the other benefits people get when they're proper members of society. I can't really imagine a country the size of a needle being such a strong immigrant current, but here they are. Knowing probability laws it's almost impossible that we'd run into any of them in a city this big. And yet, Alina managed to find a charcoal scribble on one of the skyscrapers – yes, they have skyscrapers in the city like in the picture, it's a bit unnerving, nothing should be that tall – that she says was definitely written in Serbo-Croatian. Probably Croatian, since Serbs write in Cyrillic. It said something like this:
"OVDE NE UMEJU NI DA PIJU, A KAMOLI DA PEVAJU"[2]
I have no clue what it means – maybe you know - but she laughed when she saw it, then for the whole evening and the next day. She still laughs if I try to ask her about it.
Take care,
Erik.
[1]Croatian Federation, early name for Croatian Fraternal Union or Hrvatska bratska zajednica, founded by Zdravko Mužina in 1893, in Philadelphia. A/N
[2] „[People] here can't even drink, let alone sing".
