His talk with Miss Tracy about the children's daily schedule was as baffling as it was enlightening. Now Anthony understood what they did but not why they did it.
"And after studying... all of this," he had asked when the study regimen had been outlined in his notebook, "where's playtime?"
"The Fell children don't often play," Miss Tracy had answered. "They take brisk walks between maths and literature, and before dinner."
Pardon my French, God, but what the fuck kind of routine is this for a bunch of kids?!
Apparently, there was no longer any such thing as play clothes. He thought that was ridiculous. Hell, his own skirt was something he kept to tumble around in sometimes. There were rules in the Fell household about quiet time (which turned out to be almost always) and Anthony was left wondering when these children had time to be... children.
"Why have so many if you don't seem to actually like them?" Anthony watched Crawly snuggle up in the shirt he had tossed on the bed. He pulled on his nightgown and wondered if that last thought was too harsh on the captain.
Did the Reverend Mother know about all of these... quirks when she had sent Anthony here? He took his hair down from its bun and started to brush through it. He felt a little sick to his stomach for the first time since he had arrived. Was it the cake, or was it a physical symptom of how much he missed the abbey? The storm raged on outside, and the rain beating against the window wasn't helping him feel less blue. He wouldn't get to say goodnight to Reverend Mother, or Sister Nina, or Sister Maggie, or Sister Michael... okay, maybe he wasn't so torn up about not seeing her.
He set the brush down. He could still say his prayers. He didn't always say them, he secretly thought they could get tedious. But tonight, it would be a comfort. He settled next to the bed on his knees and folded his hands.
"Dear Lord, thank you for today... I think. You know what, I'll get back to you about this whole situation. But the kids are alright, God bless the kids. Bless Bee, and Pepper, and Adam, God bless Anathema and help her get her book back, God bless Wensley and Warlock... and God bless... Jeez, what's his name? Well, God bless what's his name. And God bless Crawly, and double bless Miss Tracy, without whom I would probably very quickly lose my mind."
There was a noise by the window and a soft gasp. Anthony suppressed a grin.
"And God? About Bee, I know she doesn't need a governess or a tutor or anything of the sort, but I do hope she knows I'm here for her as a friend. Someone to confide in. Maybe about the reason why she's climbing in through my window soaking wet from the rain. Amen." With that, he did the sign of the cross and turned to sit on the bed.
Bee stood by the open window, feet shuffling guiltily. "Mr. Crowley-"
"Just Crowley, please."
"I was taking a walk, and the rain started coming down, and the front door was already locked. I decided to come in through the window, I didn't know you would be here already."
"Well, early to bed and early to rise. And such. You were walking out there in the dark, by yourself?"
"No," a light blush traveled across Bee's nose.
"Someone else coming up after you?" Anthony leaned out the window and squinted down at the lawn. "Don't see them. How'd you get up here anyway?"
"Oh, almost all of us can. It's how we play tricks on the governesses. Anathema can make it with a whole jar of spiders in her hand! Um-" Bee cleared her throat, realizing she had said too much.
Anthony sighed, then closed and latched the window. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that. Where's your friend then?"
"I..." Bee twisted her sopping wet dress in her hands. Anthony remembered that her skirt and hair were dripping all over the floor. "Well, the boy who delivers the telegrams... if my father knew, I don't know- I'm not sure he would be happy about it. Distracting from my studies and all."
Anthony crossed his arms and sighed out of his nose. "You know, if we wash that dress out tonight, nobody would notice tomorrow."
Bee's worried expression brightened. "Really?"
"Yeah, sure. Here, I'll lend you my spare nightgown for now, you can get changed and dry in the bathroom there."
"Why do you wear nightgowns anyhow?" Bee asked.
"What do you mean? We all did at the abbey. What do you wear?"
"Well, a nightgown. But I'm a girl."
Anthony stared at her blankly.
"Don't men usually wear pants?" Bee clarified.
"Do they? That sounds... awfully restricting to sleep in." Anthony wrinkled his nose and held out his spare nightgown. It was the same as the one he had on, plain and off-white. "These are much better I think."
"I think so too," Bee said and took the nightgown with her to the bathroom to peel her cold, uncomfortable dress off.
The shirt with Crawly in it was tucked into the otherwise empty suitcase. The events of the day were catching up with him and he desperately wanted to turn off the light and fall asleep on this big mattress. But one more thing... he pulled back the duvet and the sheets, then flipped the pillow over. No spiders. "Thank God," Anthony whispered. Thunder rumbled again, louder. The window panes rattled a little. The storm must be right above them now.
Anthony yawned and settled back on the bed. As his eyes closed, he heard tapping on the door. He groaned, hauling himself out of bed the go answer it.
Before the door even opened all the way, Warlock had squeezed through.
"Oh. What's going on? Are you afraid of the storm?"
The little boy shook his head, twisting his soft green pajama shirt nervously in his hands. He stood straighter. He didn't want to be afraid. It didn't seem like Mr. Crowley was ever afraid of anything. Not Father, not snakes, not-
Boom.
Warlock rushed to Anthony, clinging to his leg and burying his face in the soft fabric of his nightgown.
"You're okay," Anthony soothed, leaning down to scoop up the small boy. "I expect your siblings will be along in a moment?"
"No, they're older and braver. They aren't afraid of the storm," Warlock said miserably, face now buried in Anthony's shoulder.
Another rumble of thunder and Brian and Wensley appeared in the doorway, clinging to each other.
"Come on in. Leave the door open for the others," Anthony said, turning back the duvet with the arm that wasn't busy rocking the youngest Fell child. "If they don't run to your father's room, that is."
Three sets of footsteps could be heard running down the hall as the wind howled outside. Pepper, Adam, and Anathema were soon peeking into the room.
"We- we weren't scared, we're just checking on everyone else," Adam fibbed.
"You're such a liar," Pepper said. Anthony sensed an argument brewing and cleared his throat to interrupt them. He tried to imitate Sister Nina's stern look which made him reconsider his next move as a kid. It seemed to work.
"Now, I'm sure there's enough room for everyone to stay until the storm passes over. Did you bring any extra pillows?"
Extra sheets were pulled from the linen closet. Bee came out of the bathroom, her hair still damp, but no one asked any questions beyond: "Will you bring your quilt from your room? For our fort, Bee?"
Soon enough, All seven children and Anthony were huddled in a pillow and blanket fort.
"How long until the storm is over, Mr. Crowley?" Warlock mumbled. He was still curled up in Anthony's arms, and the man couldn't bring himself to put him down, not while the five-year-old still clinging.
"No more than an hour, I should think," Anthony said.
"An hour? That's forever."
"It's only sixty minutes, Brian," Pepper rolled her eyes.
"Brian! That's the one I forgot. God bless Brian."
"Why are storms so scary?" Anathema asked from where she was pressed into Anthony's side.
"The nuns always told me that God is clapping his hands. I don't think that's right, but I don't have any other explanation for it."
"What else did the nuns tell you?" Adam asked.
"Everything I know," Anthony said, feeling another pang of homesickness.
"Is it true they're all bald?" Wensley piped up from where he was leaning on Adam's shoulder.
"Bald? You're an idiot, they aren't bald," Bee tossed a pillow.
"Well, not all of them. I knew one bald nun. Lost her hair in old age. She didn't see the point in wearing a wig if she was in her habit all the time. She died a few years back."
"Oh. That's sad."
"Believe me, it was her time. Ninety-three, if you can believe it."
"Why can't men become nuns? That doesn't seem fair," Brian said.
Anthony yawned. His eyes watered. "Well, I could've been a monk. Same vow of chastity, the same amount of church-going, similar living situation."
"Are you going to?"
"No."
"Not even when you're done being our tutor?"
"I don't want Mr. Crowley to go," Warlock whined.
"I'm not going any time soon, don't worry. And as for why not, the whole monk thing isn't my style. There's an invitation for me that pretty much doesn't expire, but..."
"But what?" Bee sounded sleepy too now.
"I'm not sure that's what I want."
"I think I'd like to be a nun, except for the 'bride of Christ' thing. Because isn't the point not to become anyone's bride and be part of a community of like-minded individuals who also don't want to be brides? Then to tie the occupation into marriage anyway seems problematic..."
"Oh my God, Pepper..."
Another pillow was chucked. Pepper scowled.
"Maybe you can start your own abbey where they don't do that," Anthony suggested.
"I want to be a dinosaur when I grow up," Warlock said.
"That's awesome," Anthony said and felt Warlock smile.
"Dinosaurs are his favorite thing. But you can't be a dinosaur, that's illogical," Anathema said.
"You sound like Father. Illogical," Brian mocked.
"Nothing wrong with throwing logic out the window every once in a while. At least I think so."
"Did Father talk to you before he hired you?" Bee asked.
"No. I think he talked to the Reverend Mother." Anthony felt the children huddle closer as thunder rumbled once more. It was growing quieter. "Why?"
"No reason. My favorite things are telegrams."
"My favorite things are geese," Adam said.
"I like frogs better," Ana countered.
"I like packages. And opening them."
"My favorite thing is kittens. I wish we could have pets."
"You can't have pets?" Anthony was only sort of shocked. No pets seemed like a very Captain Fell type of rule. He'd better keep Crawly a secret.
"No. If we could, I want a cat too," Bee said.
"My favorite thing is schnitzel. And noodles are a pretty close second," Brian mumbled.
"You just like food. You'll eat almost anything."
"It's true! He ate a cricket once."
"Hey! Don't tell Mr. Crowley that..."
Anthony listened to the storm grow quieter as the children's chatter grew louder and more spirited. They were endearing little people, each one. If this was what being a parent was, Anthony thought he liked it even better than in his imagination.
"You've never been fishing?"
"No, I haven't," Wensley said.
"Well, we went once. I don't think you were old enough to remember. You were a baby. And Mother was... she wasn't sick yet." Bee finished her sentence in a softer tone than Anthony had heard from her so far.
"We stopped doing stuff like that when Mother got sick," Pepper said, matter-of-factly.
"Well, it's summertime. You should ask your Father-"
The children laughed at Anthony's suggestion. He couldn't help it, he started laughing along. It jostled Warlock, who had been dozing on his shoulder, and he sat up to rub his eyes.
"What's so funny?"
All eight occupants of the fort peered out to see Captain Fell in the doorway. Did the frown ever leave his face? Anthony wondered.
"Mr. Crowley, bedtime is to be strictly observed in this household."
"I- I know, but the children were scared of the storm and-"
"Out. To bed, your own beds, now."
Anthony was getting sick of being cut off. The children shuffled out of the room, pillows and blankets in hand, except for Warlock.
"Were you this much trouble at the abbey?" Captain Fell asked, through gritted teeth.
"Much more, sir. I don't see the harm in- what was it? Another hour?"
"They need to be up tomorrow morning. Just because I'm leaving for Vienna doesn't mean their schedules don't go on as normal."
"Right. Thanks for cluing me in, by the way," Anthony said, tone dropping in sarcasm.
"I was going to. I got... distracted at dinner. Warlock, back to your room."
"Come on, we need to get you to bed," Anthony murmured, trying to set Warlock on his feet. The boy protested tiredly, wrapping his limbs tighter. Captain Fell crossed the room and pried his son gently from Anthony.
"To bed with you. You'll see Mr. Crowley in the morning."
"Goodnight," Warlock grabbed Anthony's hand and gave it a squeeze.
"Goodnight," Anthony squeezed back.
The captain closed the door on his way out. Anthony was alone again. Hands on his hips, he mulled over everything he had learned that day. Over on the desk sat the outline of the schedule he was supposed to help maintain.
Lord, if we go on like that, I'll be just as bored out of my skull as the children.
He looked at the curtains. Going to be replaced, huh?
Well, if the household didn't need them anymore...