15 minutes
336 words
2 papers 20 years apart
"Introspection"
In the push to "publish or perish," Charlie had dragged out some of his old work, including a paper he had written in eleventh grade about the mathematics of the friendship dynamic. When he pulled out the paper, Amita had jokingly called it "A Charles Eppes Retrospective."
Later, when Amita had pressured him, yet again, to work on the paper, he had admitted, "The numbers aren't transcending. They're not finding the humanity." His math, even at thirteen, had been solid, but the basic assumptions he had made had been colored by the immaturity of a thirteen year old genius whose social skills hadn't been allowed to develop normally because of his intellectual gift.
Now, he sat in the garage, alone, deep in introspection. They had just finished a case where a warped sense of friendship had resulted in two murders and one case of what would probably be classified as involuntary manslaughter or some such thing. The paper, written by a socially inept thirteen year old who had hoped his math would help him find the magic formula that would create friendships for him, now looked different. He could see the errors in his assumptions. Charlie was now approaching his mid-thirties. He was no longer alone. He had a girlfriend who loved and understood him. He had friends. Real friends, not just people who, like Brett Chandler's friends, were just looking for what they could get. His big brother had become one of his best friends, and he even saw his father as a friend.
He realized he had now what he was missing when he had written that paper. The math was not giving him the key to create friendships. The friendships were feeding the math. He smiled to himself, filled the chalkboard with expressions that actually made sense, and sat down to write.
The Charlie Eppes Retrospective had become the Charlie Eppes Introspective.
Author's note: Amita didn't really say that, but it works for the story.