I realized too late that….college semesters and scheduling in England are probably different than in America. I fail. This is based on typical American college schedules, which start in August, have a Christmas break in December, start up again in January at some point, then end in May. It varies, but that's the most common yearly schedule.
I'M NOT ACCURATE. FAIL. –punishes self-
Anyway, here's the 13th chapter. It's a much shorter than the last. Last one, I needed to get a lot of details in, because they are important for subsequent chapters way way waaaaaay off into the future. Maybe you'll catch on to the clues, and you can solve my cruddy puzzles. Hahaha.
I laughed a lot during this chapter. I don't know why, it's not really good, and there's not much here, but picturing it in my mind, as a comic is HILARIOUS (I think in comic format first btw…. .com). I plan on drawing a few panels for this sometime…hopefully soon!
Also, if any of you kiddos have story predictions or ideas, LET ME KNOW! I really want to know, because it helps me learn how the story is making you guys think, since you aren't really omniscient, as the readers. On my end, I already know what's going to happen, so…..it's a bit different. I wonder what you guys are thinking, so let me know! PLEASE.
Also, if you find yourself "ugh"-ing at any point (since feelings/emotions garbage makes me "ugh" haha), hang tight. The action starts up for real after. There's going to be some really mental stuff going on. AND DEATH! Oh…..maybe….we'll see… ;)
Already suffering the "New" Year,
Kelsey/Ken 8D
CHAPTER 13: STILLE NACHT
"Come now, Laura, the presents aren't just going to buy themselves, you know!"
Mrs. Haris pushed through a store's front door, quickly sweeping the premises for anyone she might know. It was always her first action when shopping: scout for people, scout for friends, scout for gossip. Laura secretly prayed that no one in this store knew of her mother even in the slightest bit, even 5th cousins twice removed.
She had accompanied her mother to 10 stores already since 7 AM on a cold, flurried December morning, the weekend starting with yawns and scorn. Most of the time was spent waking herself up as her mother either tried clothing on, rummaged through clearance bins, and haggled with the cashier. She hadn't so much as had time to worry about her own gift buying as having to keep a list of her mother's presents.
"Now then, Laura, what do you think your father will want this year?" her mother asked, picking through a pile of scarves. "We've gotten him gloves, watches, underwear in the years past—"
"How about a bottle of cologne?" Laura suggested, really not knowing what her father needed or would even want. She was sure her parents had all they needed, what could one possibly give to them?
Her mother shook her head. "Too simple, too ordinary. We need something exciting this Christmas! Your father has been running a very stressful campaign, and we need to alleviate that." Within five minutes, they'd left the little shop and took to the streets again, joining the other shoppers in a flourish of colored bags and haphazard snowflakes. They walked for several minutes, Laura following her mother past a small yet packed store. Her mother gave it a glance and walked by, but Laura stopped, giving the display case a closer look than she'd given anything else that morning. She smiled.
"Mum, I'll just be a moment. I have a gift to buy for…someone."
Mrs. Haris spun around in a fuss, as if she were being harassed by another bitter shopper. "Well, I'm continuing on to the department store. Their sale starts at 10, so I can't miss it."
Laura watched her mother lug her collection of bags down the sidewalk. The arrangement of the bags in each of her hands reminded her of giant, misshapen pom-poms. Economic cheerleading at its best.
With a small sigh, Laura walked inside of the store to obtain her prize.
"Five times 200, that's 1,000 cookies!"
Surrounded by her typical set of girls, Millie was admiring her cookie platter that she'd had delivered to the campus dining hall. Each of the others were carrying small trays and pans of homemade pies, brownies, fudge, puddings, and a variety of other traditional Christmas desserts. Everyone was expected to bring a dish to share for the annual campus Christmas party; Millie hadn't gotten the memo about bringing a dish (in the singular) and planned on feeding the student body herself, catering with fancy hors d'ourves as well as dessert.
It was the last day of classes for the semester, and after classes had finished, students and professors alike were invited to the party to kick off the holiday break. It was actually a highly anticipated event, as students from neighboring colleges (including Gressenheller) were invited as well. Holiday food was a primary focus, along with gingerbread house contests, wreath making instruction tables, and gift exchanges. Many of the girls liked to stand and giggle under mistletoe, strategically placed in door frames and over punch bowls, trying to pull in the occasional unsuspecting Gressenheller boy.
Laura was not amused as she sat down her dish to share, Millie and her gang trying to persuade a particularly surly student from Gressenheller to try the extravagant cookies (accompanied by mistletoe) rather than the ones provided from the college. She rolled her eyes and got herself a cup of lemonade.
"This looks divine; is this your dish, Laura?" Professor Layton carried a large plate already half covered in miniature portions of several of the table's dishes, sweet and salty foods merged in a jumbled mess. He grabbed the spatula and took the first serving. "Oh dear, the first bit always is the hardest to remove…"
"Yes, that's mine. Don't expect too much," she said with a cockeyed grin. "It's one of my favorites but it's not very impressive."
"Nonsense, it looks and smells delicious. What is it, might I ask?"
"I don't know of a specific name, but we call it 'Reuben bake'. It has the ingredients of a Reuben sandwich, but in casserole form." She grimaced as he took a bite. "Hopefully you don't have any side effects. I used a strong sauerkraut."
"It's quite clever, and very good. Do you have German heritage?"
"My mother is German, but her family moved to England when she was three. So, yes." She took some for herself. It was her favorite meal, after all. But she was sure she'd have most of it, if not all, to take home afterwards.
"Very good. You know, the history behind the Reuben is actually uncertain. Many believe that it was the creation of a man from Lithuania, living in Nebraska, United States. Other accounts tell of a German-born man from New York offering it in his delicatessen. It's rather hard to put a history on some foods, especially when cuisines from many countries mix, a fusion of sorts…"
'Great, historical food lecture,' Laura angrily whispered inside her brain.
"But I digress. I make it a habit to try a bite of everyone's dish at these parties. If you'll excuse me, there's a pudding I see that has my name on it…" She gave a short laugh. "Oh, and I have a gift for each of the students in the archaeology class, so don't leave without yours!"
A present? From the Professor? She chewed thoughtfully, wondering what he would possibly give to all of the girls. Her mind jumped from the gift of bonus points to just a simple Christmas card, but he made it a point to let her know not to leave it behind…
'Maybe it's food, like cookies.'
She walked around for some time, soaking up the social interactions going on around her like a sponge. Many of the girls in her class were trying to talk with Gressenheller students or to their professors, trying to raise their grades before semester grades were posted. Millie caught Laura's eye and smirked.
"Have you heard what I'm giving the Professor, Miss Laura?"
"I suppose if I had, he might be in the know as well, considering talk spreads quickly around here," she said between bites of food.
"Or, because you spend so much time with him, you'd just blab!" she exclaimed, puffing out her chest. "Review lessons, spending the whole weekend together!"
Laura eyed her carefully, glaring daggers. "It was an academic conference. I barely even saw him." She knew the last half of information was somewhat fabricated, as she had seen him during the whole afternoon and evening of the second day of the trip, and most of the third as well, as he was her ride home. She had even slipped into some of his lectures, mostly to see the crowd that attended, but also to know how the Professor addressed a professional audience rather than a group of giggly college girls. She'd fallen asleep during one, and was almost certain he'd noticed since he made subtle jokes about his lectures being stronger than 'Sandman's Serum' during dinner. As if it weren't obvious as a joke…
In addition, the Headmaster had disappeared entirely, and not until Sunday morning had they any word on his whereabouts. Supposedly he had taken a cab to return home in a rush, his wife ill with a high fever. It was enough to excuse him for slipping into the hotel room and stealing away without so much as a word. Regardless, it meant that the original three ended up being only the Professor and Laura, but Millie shouldn't have known anything about that.
One of the girls, Abegail, shook her head fervently. "My step-father was there and said he saw a professor dancing like mad with some young girl during the commencement dinner, and the description sounded a lot like you and Hershel. Sounds a bit more than just 'academic'!"
Millie ground her teeth at the news update. "Dancing? This is news to my ears! My word, Laura, you're becoming quite the little temptress!"
"Not your nasty type of dancing. The honest kind. Like, ballroom, perhaps. I don't know, I don't dance. But it was a real type of dance, not sappy romantic ones that you are thinking," Laura said irritably. "He offered as a gentleman, as many of the men there were. There's nothing special to it at all. Is it so weird to dance?"
"That's very much true. And as for being special, as it stands, you're now one of the most loathed students here, seeing as you took the throne of our beloved Edward. Well, of course, we still love you," Millie said, cackling.
Laura waved her off, walking away to try the punch before she used the verb variety instead.
After an hour and a half, the attendees started to die down, those working the wreath making table sweeping up needles and attendants making sure the food trays were removed. Laura had sat in a corner, reading a book, when she noticed several students from her archaeology class gathering around Professor Layton, who'd been speaking with a small group of male students from the University a while ago. She put her things away and walked leisurely to the outside of the circle of girls.
"Alright, whoever hasn't taken one, please break through to the front. If you have one, please leave room for your classmates to come up, thank you." Professor Layton was handing out little boxes that had been arranged and stacked in a larger cardboard box. Each had a silver or gold bow on the lid with a tag that had each girl's name on one. Laura looked around as all the girls in front of her opened their boxes.
"Oh, it's a rock of some sort…" one said.
"Mine's a piece of pottery! It has a label… Pueblo ruins, North America," said another, squinting to read the tiny print.
"Oh, they are all from archaeological digs or famous landmarks from around the world!"
They all began comparing what little trinket they got and from where they were obtained. Laura finally reached the front when the Professor sighed loudly.
"Seems I didn't bring them all. I remember now they didn't all fit. You last few will have to come by my office, I have them in there. My apologies." He folded up the box but quickly dropped it at his feet when Millie stuffed a huge box in his face. "Whoa!"
"Here, Professor! It's a gift from my family, but mostly me, since I went to find it!" She shoved it into his now empty hands and beamed. "Open it!"
"Well, alright, if you insist…" He delicately tore the paper and lifted the box's lid. "Oh, wonderful! A seat warmer for my car."
"It also gives you massages! Now you won't ever be uncomfortable because of sore muscles or the cold when you drive here!"
"Very helpful and practical. Thank you, Miss Miller. This will provide me with much needed comfort." He put it back in the box and smiled. "Now then, to my office for the rest of those…"
Laura entered the office behind a girl named Linnie and Amy, one of Millie's closest friends. The Professor rummaged through a box and handed one to each girl. "There, that should do it. Done and done."
The girls thanked him and exited. Laura walked slowly behind the girls, hanging around the office door purposefully. She opened her box with a great impatience, even though she knew the other girls had gotten rocks and similar things. She knew somehow she wouldn't be getting a rock in hers, it had to be something differentiating her from the others. She didn't want to appear selfish, even to herself, but even if it wasn't something large, she wanted something different than the others. Something to let her know that she wasn't just like Millie, or Amy, or any of the other snotty girls. Maybe some sort of sign, although she didn't know what it would mean. But her subconscious screamed for something distinct as she lifted the lid.
Petrified shark tooth: Atlantic Ocean.
She read the label over again and again in disbelief. Rubbing the tooth between index finger and thumb, she tried to summon some sort of happy feeling that she'd gotten a gift, but couldn't even force one. It was as if he hadn't even thought about who should get what, just packaged them all up and slapped on tags. And this one was the most cheesy of them all. She'd seen shark teeth like that before in general stores at the front counter, a little trinket for small children to buy and essentially play with. She didn't even know if they were real shark teeth. And now, she stood in a dead hallway at a college with one in hand, most likely made of some polymer compound.
She frowned, trying desperately to make herself feel better.
'Maybe there's something else for you, you know, separate. It'd be weird to have others see that you've gotten special treatment from a professor… He does have to be fair, equal, impartial, at least in the eye of the public…'
Professor Layton was straightening up all of his exam papers in folders when Laura walked back in a few minutes later, a medium sized box in tow. "Ah, Laura, pleasure seeing you again. You received your box then, correct?"
"Yes, I did. Thank you very much. I'll put it somewhere safe at home, as I collect little trinkets and knick-knacks like that."
"Oh, very good! Glad to add to your collection." He sat down at his desk and opened a drawer, stuffing folders into it.
She gulped. "Um, Professor? I have something for you."
He looked up from the desk, straightening his hat. "Oh? Why, that is completely unnecessary, Laura. You didn't have to waste your money and time on me."
Laura slid the box across the desk. "Everyone should have a gift during this season. Merry Christmas."
"Would you like me to open it in your presence, or at home?"
"If you wouldn't mind, right now," she said, becoming all the more impatient. "I want to ensure it is useable."
Taking a pair of scissors carefully, he slit off the tape holding the box lid on. A ribbon bow was also wrapped around the entire box. He removed all of the trimmings and trappings, finally removing the lid. Laura's heart beats felt like they were in her throat, beating loudly into her ear like drums. He reached in carefully and pulled out a brown silk top hat, a yellow band around the base just above the brim.
"Oh my. This is quite the gift!"
"I'm hoping it fits… I used my head in the store for measurements, just to get a general idea but… I don't know how similar the circumference is." She felt her cheeks flush crimson. "If it doesn't fit, I can get it tailored."
He removed his wool cap and replaced it with the silken one, standing in front of a small mirror on his bookshelf. "I must say, this is quite an impressive accessory. I'm really hoping you didn't spend a fortune on it! It's quite classy." He craned his neck to see it at different angles. "Thank you very much, it's a very thoughtful present."
"I'm glad you enjoy it. Oh, and I have this too." She pulled a small pouch out of her messenger bag. "This is in thanks for accompanying me to the conference last month."
He smiled as he took it, squeezing it slightly in his fingers. It had a bit of give, crunching against the pressure. "Oh, I have a strong inkling as to what this is." Unraveling the string, he breathed in the top of the bag. "Tea, very good. Always a great gift. I will surely enjoy this!"
Laura was so pleased with his reaction she'd almost forgotten her self-pity back in the hall. "Well, now you can drink that while you wear your new hat," she giggled, pointing at his new accessory.
"Christmas wouldn't be the same without a moment like that. I do enjoy my tea." He put his wool cap back on. "I'll need to plan a whole new wardrobe now, around this hat," he laughed.
"I'm sure you'll find something to match," she insisted, smiling. She wasn't sure how long she would hold out, but secretly kept hoping he'd take something out from a cupboard or drawer, something extra.
'Another gift, somewhere, there has to be. Seriously, a plastic tooth? It's not even real! The other girls had ceramics, rocks! Real things! Even Millie had something better, a small bone or something from some crypt! At least give me something like that!'
"Well, I suppose I'll get back to grading finals. I haven't graded yours yet, but if you contact me during break, I can let you know what you got. Have a Merry Christmas, Laura, and thank you for your caring gift." He gave her a pleasant smile, but that was all.
Laura stood stockstill for a moment, trying to offer at least a phony grin. "Yes, have…a Merry Christmas…"
She made her way to the door slowly, accepting that there wasn't anything else to receive other than his Christmas greeting. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, as she turned the door handle, she was certain there was nothing, as he already had a red pen in hand, grading.
The hall was dark, as everyone had left. No sounds came from the dining hall just to her right as she made her way to the entrance of the building, the party having ended several minutes prior. Her footfalls pulsated throughout the silent corridor. Without warning, she felt a pocket of tears resting at the base of her eyelids. Wiping the back of her hand against them, she looked at the glimmering strip across her skin, barely visible in the dim lighting.
"I'm…crying? I…don't do that. I never do that. I'm—" She cupped a hand against her mouth, stifling a weak sob. "No, I'm more angry than anything. I thought people were more attuned to things like this. Especially him… I—" She almost tripped on the hem of the entrance rug, sending her into another mental fit. "Bloody rug. Confounded professors. Oh damn it all, does nobody have any couth anymore? Even 'English gentlemen'?"
She pushed the thick, wooden entry doors wide, annoyance fueling her strength. She didn't even bother putting on a hat or scarf, sure that the heat in her head would warm her facial extremities and neck enough without them.
"English gentleman, my foot. He's a puzzle in himself, but with mental pieces scattered, the Neanderthal! Too wrapped up in digging and excavating, I suppose. The dust has clouded his brain activity. And that hat did cost a fortune…" she groaned, feeling ridiculous for ever allowing herself to purchase it. "Why I thought that'd be a suitable gift, is beyond even me."
She made the trip home, and the day went by without her permission, not that she thought she had any control over it in the first place. But her mind felt lethargic, and enduring the day was almost oppressive. Dinner tasted bland, drawing felt a waste, and nothing was interesting outdoors, even the new snowfall. It was the start of the break, yet she felt bittersweet about it.
After organizing her new plastic tooth into a spot on her bedroom shelf, she sighed, feeling a little guilty.
'I suppose I should be grateful for anything. It really is a nice tooth, even if it is plastic… Maybe it's just a plastic coating.'
But…I still would have liked something more. But that's just me. Maybe I'm expecting too much. He's just my professor, after all. Just because I think he's fun to talk with, and the only human who's not a waste of oxygen…that doesn't really mean anything. Plus, that's….strictly on my end.
I'm just one student out of many. There's absolutely nothing special about another class to teach to, and then another student. That's his life, day in, day out. It would be no different if I had to deal with a set of equations all at once. None of those jump out as special, I treat them all the same.
…but…equations aren't people. They don't have personalities. They don't talk back, or have wit, or challenging topics of conversation. They don't…have feelings. I didn't know I had any, but equations certainly don't.'
Feelings. A strange concept, indeed. The only strong feelings she'd had were induced by the piano, by nature, by mathematics. Anything knowledge-filled, anything that was challenging. All things systematic or methodical, anything that ran cleanly and surely, like weather. Always there, never faltering. Like a well oiled machine. Like God. And then there were those who meant something at one point, who were long dead, rotted, hollowed out by worms and whatever else that chewed away at her brother. That was all.
That had been all.
That was all that there should have ever been.
Laura flipped through her class notes and graded papers from the semester, red-marked puzzles and quizzes catching her eye. Her first 100% on a test, and a little note written by the Professor.
Seems the reviews are working, even though we talk more about the world than archaeology! Let's continue next semester. :)
-Prof. Layton
Her lazy smile turned into a grimace, a pit in her stomach, heart wrenched. She shivered.
Killing the lights, she shuffled herself into the cold bed sheets, feeling empty and lost. It wasn't the lack of a proper gift anymore; it was something much more emotionally damaging. Recognition made it traumatizing. Maybe it was the holiday season. Something about these times seemed all the more romantic, not in a love-ridden sense, but just dreamlike. It was as if something had been missing, but she never noticed it until the piece was right in front of her, almost like being close to finishing a jigsaw puzzle and then realizing the final piece had been swept under the rug all along.
Laying on her stomach, she buried her face into her pillow, tears blotching the cover. This time, she couldn't stop it.
'I don't know anything about such things as 'fancying' or 'liking', but I think…I'm falling in love with my professor…'
END.