I'm back and I've missed you all these past two months. To make up for my absence I present you with this monster of a chapter, a whole four thousand words of apology.
"In secret we met
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive."
~ When We Two Parted, by Lord Byron (1816)
Chapter thirty-two -Dust and gasoline
The sky above Welton was a muted blue, tinged with a layer of grey beneath the wispy clouds. Not a trace of yesterday's golden sunlight remained. Some, namely Neil, announced that it was as an eerie reflection of the mellowed atmosphere.
He wasn't wrong.
All of the excitement from the previous day had vanished, and a widespread, apathetic mood had seemingly tiptoed into its place. Kathleen rubbed her eyes for what felt like the millionth time and yawned into her cereal. Neil slid his own, untouched coffee towards her and swapped it for her orange juice with a reproachful look.
"Stop it," Kat mumbled, taking a sip which scorched her tongue.
"I'll stop when you have nap." Todd nudged his side and Neil's eyes softened when he looked back Kathleen. "He's fine, y'know. We looked in on him."
Ignoring the scalding heat on her tongue, she took a larger mouthful from the mug.
"He'll be in the library. I don't think he wanted the attention at breakfast," Todd added quietly, sounding perplexed by the latter half of his statement. "He said something about subverting the conditioned demand for immediate consumption of art?"
"I didn't expect him to come to breakfast, or study group." Kat grimaced at the tenderness of her burnt tongue. "I've been thinking about Nolan's reaction. He hasn't summoned me yet and he did not look impressed by my outburst...I don't really know what happened myself."
Neil tilted his head to the side, "Oh."
"Oh?"
"It's nothing," he said, moving on before she could challenge him further, "if you're going to continue pushing your cornflakes around then we'll go now. If not, eat quickly."
"Not" Kathleen decided, standing up first.
"Alright, then. Let's go." Neil led the pair in a zig zag around the tables before they reached the sparse hallway.
Kat turned to Todd in mock bewilderment as they trekked down to the library, "did I just get away with eating no breakfast? Usually there would have been a lecture from Mum."
"Mom," both boys corrected under their breath.
"Ha-ha," Neil rolled his eyes, "like I haven't heard the mom jokes before."
"Oh, I know you have," Kat grinned, stifling another yawn. "I don't have the brain power to be original today."
"Thank heavens. I don't know how I would survive your cutting wit."
Kat pouted, "rude."
"Grumpy," he countered, holding open the library door, "and don't complain to me when you're hungry later."
"I knew it!" She cried, prompting Todd to muffle a laugh, "you can't help mothering us. It's in your DNA, Perry."
"I don't mother anyone," he argued, rounding the corners of the book shelves. Neil knew his efforts were futile as the words left his lips in the same moment that the trio approached the table seating the rest of the group.
As expected, he was welcomed by a chorus of, "you do."
"Where were you mom?" Whined Nuwanda, "I needed help with my chemistry homework."
"We don't have any chemistry homework, you dolt." Neil dropped into an empty seat and reached across the table to whack Charlie lightly on the side of the head.
"This is abuse," he crossed his arms indignantly, "I'm injured. I'm off limits for at least a week."
"You're fine," Cameron interrupted, passing sheets of paper to the three new arrivals. "We are doing the Latin paragraph and then we'll move onto math."
Kat made a noise of protest that sounded embarrassingly like a whimper.
Nail patted her shoulder, "copy mine."
Cameron glared but Neil shushed him. "Kat is exhausted, Richard. She's running on coffee."
"Just let it go, Cameron." Knox frowned when he opened his mouth.
"Fine. But don't expect any help from me until you're willing to do it yourself."
"Have a heart," growled Charlie.
"Oh, shut-up. You're just upset that I wouldn't pass your stupid bongos."
"They were out of comfortable reach," he spat through gritted teeth.
"Okay, time for Latin." Neil called, "Meeks, what a have you written about so far?"
Meeks pushed up his glasses, "a generic description of an observatory. Pick any place that you can talk about confidently and focus on the grammar," he explained. "You also need to mention a reason for your choice. For example, I picked an observatory because I hope to work for NASA. Everyone good?"
They nodded.
"Great."
Surprisingly, the group lasted almost the full two hours before Mr Smythe chased them out. Despite the mildly frightening experience of being pursued by an elderly, profanity spewing, maniac wielding an encyclopaedia, the poets where in a rather good mood considering the circumstances. Even Cameron joined in the jovial, dramatised rendition of O Captain! My Captain! through the empty halls on the way to Latin.
XXX
"Pssst," a ball of paper bounced across Charlie's desk.
"Hey!" Fraser hissed, stretching forwards to tap his unresponsive target on the shoulder.
"Come on, man," whispered Hopkins, his eyes trained on Mr McAllister.
Neil tapped his pencil on his desk and gestured for the boys to pay attention to the lesson, but they ignored him in favour of throwing chunks of erasers and balled paper at Charlie, whose body grew visibly tenser with each hit.
Kat met Knox's eyes as they both glanced nervously at the situation developing ahead of them
"Charlie," Fraser poked him in the back with his pencil. He turned to face Fraser with an expression of distain.
"My name is Nuwanda, or hadn't you heard?" His tone was icy enough raise the eyebrows of several classmates within hearing range of the spectacle.
"Seriously? That's stupid."
Rolling his eyes, Charlie began to turn back to the front, but Hopkins jumped in, "you never told us what happened with Nolan yesterday."
"Gather everyone in the common room after geometry," he stated cryptically. He ignored all further attempts of communication from students outside of the society throughout lunch and afternoon classes. Eventually, the student body seemed to give up on their collective efforts to piece together exactly what happened between the end of assembly and Nuwanda's return.
That was how poets found themselves later that day. Along with the rest of their year group and a few brave lower years, who found themselves a spot on the floor around the armchair which Charlie occupied in the common room. It had already grown dark outside. The windows were shut tight against the chill, and the lamps bathed the space in a low, orange glow. As his closest friends, the society had managed to squish themselves onto the few arm chairs and the one sofa nearby. Pitts and Meeks were tangled like contortionists on one, with Pitts' long limbs hanging over the side. Neil and Todd were comfortably squished together on another, leaving Kat with Knox and Cameron on the sofa. Cameron had managed to isolate himself on one half, while Knox claimed the other end with Kat in the middle and a blanket draped over their knees. The rest of the students were designated the hardwood floor where they sat like kindergarten children eager for story time.
Charlie was in the centre, with a pair of dark glasses on, a cigarette in one hand and bongos on his lap, which he played with his free hand. Honestly, Kat agreed with Cameron that he looked ridiculous, but kept her mouth shut out of sheer curiosity about what had occurred the previous evening; even if it required her to discern the truth from a rather dramatised performance.
"Creeeak," he imitated the tired floorboards of Nolan's office, hitting the bongos to create the sound of footsteps. "He started walking around towards my left," he said, "creeak, creeeak. Assume the position Mr Dalton." He took another drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out slowly, and was interrupted by the real creaking of the common room door opening. The sound jolted the audience out of their reverie and many scrambled to remove themselves from the suspicious gathering.
"It's alright," called a familiar voice as Kathleen craned her neck to see which teacher had startled the others.
"Mr Keating!" Charlie removed his sunglasses to greet their favourite teacher with a smile that was not returned.
"Mr Dalton. That was a pretty lame stunt you pulled today."
"You're siding with Mr Nolan?" He looked up at the man in front of him, his forehead creased, "what about carpe diem and sucking all the marrow out of life? What about all of that?"
Keating sighed, "sucking the marrow out of life does not mean choking on the bone. Sure, there is a time for daring and there is time for caution. A wise man understands which is called for."
"But I thought you'd like that," he admitted, prompting Keating's expression to soften.
"No. You being expelled from school is not daring to me, because you would miss some golden opportunities."
"Like what?" He mumbled, unconvinced.
"Like, if nothing else, the opportunity to attend my classes. Got it, Ace?"
"Aye, aye, Captain."
"Keep your head about you," Keating winked before scanning the faces of the watchful students around them, "and that goes for the lot of you."
"Yes, Captain," the students chorused.
Satisfied with their attentiveness, Keating headed out of the room, "phone call from God," he shook his head. "If it had been collect, that would have been daring."
The door shut behind him on the echoes of laughter which faded into a resumption of the dramatic tale he had interrupted minutes before. It would be almost two years before Keating would admit to staying behind the closed door to listen in on the tale. The teacher made himself scarce once the students began to mumble about dinner, not wanting to encourage reckless behaviour with his admiration for the unparalleled daring of the young man.
XXX
"I think I've got the technique," Meeks called over the din of the cutlery. He rolled the spaghetti over his fork shakily, using the knife in his right hand to steady the movement. Neil and Cameron studied his method and successfully ate a mouthful, while Todd gave up altogether and simply ate dinner with his left hand in a daintier manner than Pitts, who shovelled in fistfuls.
Knox snorted into his water as spaghetti dropped out of Pitt's mouth and splattered tomato sauce down his front.
"You're so disgusting," Kathleen giggled, ducking to avoid the droplets of sauce which sprayed out of Pitt's mouth when he laughed.
"At least he's eating," Charlie complained. "It's like eating an octopus or something..." he trailed off as Hager strolled over, halting by the head of the table.
"Mr Dalton," he boomed.
"Sir?" He looked up innocently.
"Are you gentleman normally all left-handed?" Hager grimaced at the mess covering both the tables and the students themselves. Meeks had already begun to discreetly wipe his sleeve on his napkin.
"No, Sir," the table's occupants put down their cutlery and stared either at the table or repentantly at Hager.
"Then why are you eating with your left hands?"
"We thought it would be good to break old habits, Sir," Knox answered, thinking back to the poem Neil had found before dinner.
"And what is wrong with old habits, Mr Overstreet?"
"Well...they perpetuate mechanical living, Sir. They limit your mind."
"Mr Overstreet," Hager looked down at the seventeen-year-old, "I suggest that you worry less about breaking old habits and worry more about developing good study habits. You understand?" He asked, staring pointedly at the fork which had crept back into Knox's left hand.
He released the fork. "Yes, sir."
"That goes for all of you," he warned, removing the glass of water from Kathleen's left hand. "Now eat with the correct hands." He watched them comply with his demands for a minute before drifting towards another table where an argument had broken out over the last bread roll. Hager stopped only to place Kathleen's glass back onto the table and inform her that she was to see Mr Nolan after dinner.
As soon as Hager turned his back, they switched their utensils again and continued to change up the daily task. To spite Hager, Charlie picked up Meek's bread roll and shoved it into his mouth, almost choking in the process but he chewed determinedly. Meeks' protests dissolved into hiccups and the table descended into chaos once more.
"I con eaany mow," Pitts groaned, flinching as slimy tendrils of stringy pasta fell from his overstuffed mouth.
Cameron shielded his eyes. "How are you surprised?"
"I second that," Meeks lifted the wasted slice of apple pie from Pitts' plate, giving the desert a new lease of life in his stomach.
Pitts managed a grin when Cameron poured Pitt's bowl of custard onto his own pie, thinking that nobody was watching.
"So, shall we have a meeting tonight?" Neil whispered, leaning into the centre of the table. "I thought we could celebrate Char-sorry, Nuwanda not getting expelled."
"Sounds good to me," Charlie agreed, "and I might have a little bottle of something to bring along. Feel up to it yet, Knoxy?"
"Ugh!" He buried his face in his hands, "too soon."
"Now that is a point to second," Kat said, poking at Meeks' arm. "Nobody needs him vomiting again."
"All right, everyone in?" Neil asked, looking around at the eager faces of the group. "We meet in the foyer at midnight."
"Couldn't we go earlier? It's dark already," Cameron pointed to the windows which were already a black mirror reflecting the room.
"Relax, it's the weekend-" Kat caught a glimpse of her grandfather leaving the staff table over Cameron's head. Nolan made eye contact as he strode out of the hall, choosing a path closer to her seat than usual. "Sorry, that's my cue," she threw her napkin onto the table and followed him out at a comfortable distance, only nodding in response to the calls of good luck.
By the time Kathleen reached the imposing door, she found herself in an oddly calm state. Smoothing her hair down with one hand, she rapped twice on the door with the other, waiting for permission before pushing it open. Inside the fire was roaring, and Nolan's dogs lay at the foot of the hearth, basking in the heat. More surprising, was her Grandfather's relocation from his desk to one of the arm chairs by the fire. A position usually reserved for meetings with the school board or alumni. Kathleen slipped into the armchair opposite him, keeping her back uncomfortably straight against the firm cushions.
"I do not intend to keep you for long," Nolan said. "Is there anything you would to say before you explain your childish behaviour."
Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Kathleen apologised, hoping that the false sincerity of her tone was undetected.
Nolan inclined his head in acknowledgement. Whether he believed her or not was impossible to say, but his stare was as cold as she remembered. "I am still waiting for a suitable explanation."
"I don't agree with corporal punishment."
He continued to stare.
"I know that my opinion is irrelevant, but I cannot morally allow myself not to try to change the outcome." She looked nervously at her Grandfather who remained unreadable. "He is one of my closest friends. I-I don't like to see any of my friends hurt. I had to do something. My actions were...improper. I recognise that I broke rules. I let my emotions get the better of me. I apologise."
Nolan sighed, "you are a sensitive girl, Kathleen. I forget how little you know of the world. Order must be kept, usually at the expense of an individual. Rules serve a purpose, society needs rules. Do not forget that, no matter how sympathetic you are to the suffering of another."
She nodded.
"Good. You are to walk with Mr Andrews to my rooms at seven o'clock on Sunday evening, where you shall greet his Father. I expect nothing less than your best behaviour for this dinner. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Grandfather."
"Then you may return to your studies."
Kathleen left the stifling warmth of the study at a speed that was almost rude. She twirled the diamond pendent - that her Grandfather had given her not long ago- around her finger as she walked back to her dorm room to pick up the book she had been hoping to finish tonight. With her copy of Anne of the Island* safely under her right arm, she walked down to the common room where she informed Fraser of Nolan's instructions for Sunday and re-joined her friends. She curled up on the end of the sofa nearest to Cameron and brushed off the questions about the meeting. She must have looked more dejected than she felt, because they left her alone to read in peace.
' "There is no need Phil. I'm in the dust. This has spoiled everything backwards. I can never think of Redmond days without recalling the humiliation of this evening. Roy despises me - and you despise me - and I despise myself."
"You poor darling," said Phil, melting. "Just come here and let me comfort you. I've no right to scold you. I'd have married Alec or Alonzo if I hadn't met Jo. Oh, Anne, things are so mixed up in real life. They aren't as clear cut and trimmed off, as they are in novels."
"I hope that no one will ever ask again ask me to marry him as long as I live," sobbed poor Anne; devoutly believing that she meant it."
XXX
By midnight when Kat joined the boys in the foyer, her mood had lifted considerably. And by the time they reached the cave, all traces of negativity had been erased from her mind by their antics - and Pitt's legendary, face first, fall into a hole.
The group settled down in the cave and read poetry by the firelight for almost thirty minutes before Charlie pulled two bottles of whiskey from his coat. The amber liquid was well received by all, and the bottles were passed around until they were almost empty. Talk soon turned to the 'mad, bad and dangerous to know' Lord Byron, Charlie's latest hero after Keating's conversation with the class earlier in week.*
"Never mind his questionable morals," Kathleen interrupted Cameron's tirade, "his daughter was Ada Lovelace!*"
"And he fought for Greek Independence with everything he had," added Knox, "he would've died for it if illness hadn't got him first.
"Don't forget the establishment of the Byronic hero," Neil gestured wildly, "the entire trope was his creation. Literature wouldn't be the same without his contribution."
"Master of puns," snorted Pitts, "get it? The irony of bi. Byronic, bisexual, Byron.
The group groaned at the joke, except Cameron who frowned.
"Don't be silly, Pitts. He was a notorious womaniser."
"Come on, Cameron," Nuwanda laughed sarcastically, "do you really expect us to believe you weren't listening to word Keating said in class. The man was clearly bisexual, opening the right book will have the evidence printed in black and white."
"I think he's scared of the possibility," joked Neil, but his wary expression conflicted with his easy tone.
"Never mind the possibility, he's scared of half the poets worshipped by the group and likely half the boys in the school," Charlie said. "Who hasn't considered sticking to their own side now and then? Right?"
"Sure," Kathleen propped herself up on her elbows, "everyone does at some point."
Pitts shrugged, and the other boys responded similarly or hummed in agreement, except for Cameron who said, "No. It's illegal."
"So is assault, yet I often think about punching you," Nuwanda glared at him. "In fact," he said, throwing in a wink " it's become a fantasy of mine."
Cameron made a face of disgust.
"Come on, it's a school full of hormonal teenage boys," Meeks interjected, "things happen outside of fantasies."
"It's the same in a school of girls. Any school, actually," Kat agreed.
"Yeah," Neil nodded, "why did you think Ted and Andrew got expelled a few years back."
Kathleen rolled onto her stomach, resting her chin on her hands. The boys rarely spoke of the past. Most of them seemed to focus on their futures, or the here and the now. In her all-consuming interest, Todd's sudden pallor escaped her notice.
"As part of school annual that year, I had the privilege of working with all the journalist wannabes and school loudmouths. The editor was in Nolan's office for a meeting when Andrew's parents called him, he was sent out, but he heard the expulsion was officially recorded as severe misconduct and inappropriate behaviour. Rumour had it, that Hager found them together."
"Quick and discreet handling," whispered Todd. Kat frowned at the strange, almost sickly expression on his face.
"Exactly," Neil nodded, "that's what we all thought at the time."
"The only inappropriate thing about it was Hager's presence," Charlie smirked at the thought of Hager's face.
"But Cameron, a few of the romantic poets had a variety of relationships," stated Knox. "You seem to enjoy the club and the club is about their values of freedom, imagination, and revolution. Why do you think we go to the cave?"
"Not all of them," Cameron insisted with a blush staining his cheeks, "we are not practicing free love or spirituality."
"Speak for yourself," Nuwanda snapped, "the point is we have the right to a choice. Don't tell me you support that monster McCarthy!*"
Todd slipped out of the cave as the argument erupted. Neil was too busy listing the poets - who Keating had mentioned to him after class once - to notice the shaking figure try to escape. Kathleen wasn't. Immediately, she followed him, shooting a reassuring glance to Neil who had looked to his left and saw an empty space.
Outside, Todd was sat on a rock taking deep breaths.
"Balincrest." Kathleen joined him, sitting cross-legged on the muddy ground. "I didn't put it together before. That's why you left, isn't it?"
Todd nodded, "he was the one who taught me about cars."
Kat stayed quiet, simply squeezing his hand in what she hoped was a reassuring manner.
He reciprocated with a grateful smile. "It doesn't hurt much anymore," he whispered, "but I can't do it again. Not-not now."
"Things are different here," she agreed, staring at the ground. "It's almost feels like that part in a book where you know something big is coming, but you don't quite know what. Whatever it is will change things forever, but you don't want them to change, the characters are finally getting what they want-what they need, but you know it can't last forever."
"Like the air before a thunderstorm on a sunny day."
"Exactly." Kat met his eyes, "I'm not going crazy."
Todd nodded, "I-I think it's because we know different." He swallowed, "all they know is Welton, but this home is new to us. It's still precious."
"And the outside world isn't as distant." The pair sat in silence, staring up at the moon until the crunch of leaves indicated a presence.
"Are you alright?" Asked Knox.
"Fine, j-just needed some air," Todd stood up, giving Kathleen a hand up and smiling guiltily as she tried to rub the mud off her pyjama pants.
"You guys ready to head back? It's quarter to two," called another voice from the mouth of the cave, followed by the appearance of Neil's face.
Kat nodded, nudging Todd to do the same. Seemingly satisfied, Neil turned away from them to call the others, and a moment later he led the procession back through the woods. His roommate was at his side and he laughed as he took another burning swig of the whiskey Charlie had passed around at the meeting. Kat watched the pair, nodding vacantly as Pitts explained the latest improvements to the radio he and Meeks had been working on. By the time she fell into bed at two thirty, she was too tired to think, so instead she dreamt about a familiar, timid boy, left all alone in a cloud of dust and gasoline.
* Anne of the Island, Lucy Maud Montgomery (1915)
* 'mad, bad and dangerous to know' - Lady Caroline Lamb, a novelist, who had a short affair with George Gordon, Lord Byron famously described him with this phrase
* Ada Lovelace (1815-1862) - English mathematician and writer, she wrote the first machine algorithm for an early computing machine that existed as an idea on paper in the 1840s
* Charlie's mention of McCarthy is a reference not to the anti-communist red scare in the US, but to the lesser known lavender scare affecting the LGBTQ community in the 1950s as another branch of McCarthyism.