Professor Layton and the Rewound Repercussions –Part 5—
Clive sat across from the professor. He had grown accustomed to this view over the past few weeks, though it provided only minimal joy.
"Good morning, Clive."
"Good morning, professor." Clive nodded once in acknowledgement.
"How are you doing today?"
"The same as always, I suppose." He glanced around as though in expectancy. "Shall we dispense with the small talk? I've grown to rather hate it. It's the most I ever get out of the people here."
"My apologies. I came to tell you that the date for the appeal was pushed back."
"I know."
"You know?" The professor adjusted his hat, looking at the youth in surprise. "Really? Did they tell you?"
"I assumed." Clive shrugged. "I told you, didn't I, professor? I will never be retried. The 'powers that be' won't allow it."
"Don't be so negative."
Clive smirked. "I'm not being negative, professor. I'm being realistic. Join me, will you?"
"To use your words, Clive—I won't let it end like this. Not by a long shot." The professor folded his hands in his lap. Clive turned rather pink and fell silent.
After an immeasurable pause, he looked up. "How is…how is Luke?"
"He's doing quite well. He had to move shortly after we returned home, but he's been visiting quite frequently lately. He was rather overjoyed once he learned to use the public transit system. He's always found the double decker busses fascinating."
"How about the girl…Flora?" He bit his lip. "I doubt she'll ever forgive me for kidnapping her like that."
"She is…rather annoyed still, yes. But she is in perfect health. She's been cooking a lot recently, though it's not been very, ah, good for my digestion."
Clive chuckled. "I…I remember her cooking, if it was only that one time."
"Yes, I would say that it is quite memorable."
"Please, professor. Help me." Clive suddenly buried his face in his hands. "I can't…I can't… I want a normal life, professor."
"I know, Clive."
"I want to be with friends, like you."
"You're with me right now."
"No, professor." Clive looked up, stiffening. "I am near you. I am not with you."
"I'm sorry you feel that way."
"Don't—don't say that to me, professor." He grimaced. "I am not in a mood to be trifled with."
"I am genuinely sorry you feel that way."
"Stop this."
Layton stood up. "I see."
"Leaving so soon?"
"Do you wish for me to leave?" Layton inquired.
"Considering you are my only source of intelligent conversation these days, I would say no. However, I cannot change your mind once it is made up."
"Good, for I have no intention of leaving yet." Layton straightened his jacket. "I will return shortly."
Clive leaned back, wondering what the professor could be planning. However, when the minutes began to stretch on, he started to think that the professor really had left.
"My apologies. That took far longer than I intended."
Clive jumped out of his seat, startled. "P-p-professor!"
"Hello, Clive." Layton smiled placidly at him. "Is this a more comfortable mode of conversation? I'm with you rather than near you now, of course."
"I… How did you manage this?" Clive stared, waiting for the shock to wear off. The professor was actually standing in front of him—not across a partitioned table, but next to him.
"Thankfully, the rules change with the institution. They may not allow you out, but they'll allow me in on occasion. How else would families visit their loved ones?"
"I…I can't believe it." Clive crossed his arms and leaned against the table. "I would never have expected this. I just…" He laughed, rubbing his temple with his fingertips.
"It seems model behaviour is good for some things, Clive. Now, shall we continue our conver—oh." Layton paused as Clive threw his arms around him.
"Professor…" Clive trembled slightly. "You're…you're actually here."
"Of course." Layton patted Clive's head gently as the boy stifled a sob. "It will be okay, my boy. Just wait a little longer. We'll find a solution. I believe you've paid your dues."
"You've always been a hopeless optimist."
Layton smiled. "I'm not being optimistic, Clive. I'm being realistic."