For better or worse, Linus Van Pelt was used to following his sister's orders, whether it was getting her a dish of ice cream while she watched TV or helping her decorate the house for Christmas (and doing all the unpleasant jobs which she did not wish to do). Occasionally, though, Lucy gave him a job that was not really bad, like sitting with their mutual friend, Schroeder, while the prodigy played Beethoven works over and over again.
Okay, so Linus's job was not really to listen to classical music for a few hours. Lucy had actually charged him to make sure Schroeder ate his lunch, which had been sitting, mostly untouched, on a small table beside Schroeder's console piano since Lucy had visited earlier. Schroeder had ignored his meal which his mother had prepared in favor of meticulously practicing for his upcoming concert, but Lucy would have none of that. When her nagging had failed to sway Schroeder, she had marched home and grabbed Linus, dragging him back to monitor Schroeder while she went to a psychiatric session with a patient.
"Concert or no, I can't have my future husband fainting from hunger because he's so wrapped up in some dead guy's music all the time," Lucy had declared, steering a sheepish Linus into Schroeder's living room. "As Schroeder's friend and future brother-in-law, you need to watch out for him when I can't be here."
Schroeder had only rolled his eyes when Lucy had plunked her little brother in an armchair to be his babysitter, and he did not speak until after Lucy had marched out of the house to make her psychiatry appointment.
"How do you live with that busybody?" he had asked Linus.
"I remind myself that she means well most of the time," Linus had answered, "and she's really gotten better since she started middle school, don't you think?"
Schroeder had only given a "Hmph!" before he went back to his piano, but for Linus's sake, he had taken a few bites of the macaroni and cheese, playing one-handed.
Ever since Schroeder had received the piano back in the fourth grade, he had spent a lot more time indoors. Unlike with his toy piano, he could not just tuck his wooden console under his arm and play wherever he desired. His piano bench meant his back no longer cramped up from constantly hunching over the keys, so he could practice for even more hours without taking a break. As such, sometimes Schroeder dove so far into his music that he forgot to get a drink of water, for which Lucy was constantly reprimanding him.
Schroeder's upcoming neighborhood concert had only accentuated the problem. The event included a piano rendition of Beethoven's Wellington's Victory — aka Beethoven's "worst" piece, but in Schroeder's mind, Beethoven could do no wrong, and he was out to prove it to all naysayers.
Linus found himself agreeing with both parties the more he observed the situation. Schroeder had organized his own concerts since he was a toddler, wanting to share the beauty of Beethoven's works wherever he could. This meant he threw himself into perfecting his art, often to the point where he saw nothing but the piano keyboard for hours at a time. While usually this was not so bad when his mother was home to keep him grounded in reality, some weekends he could spend a whole day on the piano bench, which understandably left Lucy worried for both his physical and mental health.
On the one hand, Lucy is definitely prejudiced against Beethoven, due to how much Schroeder focuses on his music instead of her, Linus mused, waving his finger in a conducting manner, but she definitely has a point about Schroeder ruining his health, if he keeps forgetting to eat or drink all the time.
After listening to Schroeder's third or fourth run-through of the orchestral piece, Linus felt obligated to speak up.
"You probably should take a break now," he suggested.
"One more time," Schroeder replied without tearing his eyes away from his instrument.
"You don't have much to eat," Linus prodded. "Just finish that first, then practice."
"It'll still be there when I'm done."
"C'mon, Lucy says I'm not allowed to go home until you finish that bowl," he pressed, "under pain of losing my blanket for a week. Just take a few more bites."
"It's my life," Schroeder said. "Lucy has no say in it, so you can go home whenever you like."
"Easy for you to say," Linus muttered, wrapping his blue blanket around his shoulders as he leaned back in the armchair. Trying to keep control of his annoyance (and dread), he glanced outside at the sunny street — and he promptly sat up when he spotted a black-haired, seething figure marching up the road. Linus quickly ducked low, reaching for Schroeder's arm.
"Hurricane warning!" he hissed. "A category five, by the looks of it."
Schroeder did not share his alarm. "Never underestimate my ability to weather through Hurricane Lucy."
"Yeah, but if she sees food in that bowl, she's going to clobber me!" he cried. "Hurry up and eat!"
"All right! All right!"
Grumbling, Schroeder yanked the bowl off the table and stood. Shoveling macaroni into his frowning mouth, he started for the front hall. Linus followed at a timid pace, and Schroeder opened the door just as Lucy reached the stoop. He thrusted the bowl out, waving the cheesy-streaked cavetto in front of Lucy's glaring face.
"There!" he snapped. "I wasted precious practice time just to make sure you don't nag me about missing lunch. Happy?"
"Relatively speaking," she answered, folding her arms, "but if you ever faint on me, that just means I have to give you CPR."
"Now, there's an incentive to stay in good health!" Schroeder threw back.
Clutching his blanket protectively, Linus dared to peek around Schroeder (who made an ideal human shield when it came to Lucy). Studying her face and body language, Linus (who could distinguish the different levels of crabbiness in his sister) saw at once that Schroeder's diet was not the main source of her current frustrations.
"Did something happen at your psychiatry meeting with Charlie Brown?" he guessed, stepping up to the threshold.
"Ha!" Lucy tapped her foot against the stoop step. "Tell me honestly, Linus. Is it malpractice for a psychiatrist to slug her patient into next week?"
"Certainly, it's malpractice," Linus answered in surprise. "In fact, some psychiatrists have lost their license for less."
Lucy planted her hands on her hips, scowling, then she tossed her head back. "Well, it's not like wishy-washy Charlie Brown will try to sue."
"His dog is a lawyer though," Linus reminded her.
"Why were you slugging Charlie Brown this time?" Schroeder asked flatly.
Lucy scoffed. "Well, there I was, trying to be a good doctor for my patient and help Charlie Brown finally get his breakthrough — because that's the kind of gal I am, you know — and I was letting him pretend I was that Heather Wold, and that he had to ask me out on a date" — here she visibly shuddered — "because as a doctor, I'm committed to my work. And you know what that blockhead says to me?"
"'Quick! I need a pail'?" Schroeder cracked.
"No," Lucy retorted. "He just says, 'This isn't working, Lucy. I might be able to talk to you, but once I get in front of a pretty girl, I'm going to be tongue tied.' So I popped him a good one!"
She swung a right hook in the air.
"I'm sure he didn't mean it the way it came out," Linus told her, wincing.
"See, I knew you'd defend him!" his sister retorted, causing Linus to duck behind Schroeder again. She turned her attention to the blond boy next. "Schroeder, do pretty girls make you nervous?"
Schroeder glanced at his empty bowl. "If I ever see one, I'll let you know."
"I should probably start to head home…" Linus muttered, quickly skirting between the older kids until he could break into a run. He reached the sidewalk safely, still clutching his blanket against his chest.
Meanwhile, Lucy jabbed a finger at Schroeder. "In psychology, we call that denial!"
"For me or you?" he returned, unbothered, stepping back and taking hold of the doorknob.
Lucy stamped her foot again, slamming a hand against the door to stop him from completely shutting it. "One of these days you're going to look up from your piano, Schroeder, and realize you haven't seen me in a while, but by then I'll be dating somebody else!"
"Don't get my hopes up unless you mean it, please," he answered, and with a harder push, he closed the door, and the click of the lock followed.
Lucy spun away and stalked down the front walk, soon catching up with Linus. She took a few more steps, then slumped forward, letting out a miserable sigh.
"Who am I kidding?" she groaned. "We both know I don't mean it."
Linus gave her a sympathetic look. Despite his sister's crabby way, Linus knew a lot of her grouchiness came from a variety of sources, not the least of which was her constant struggles with unrequited love. With Lucy momentarily stunned by yet another rejection from Schroeder, this was a good chance to turn her bad mood to sweeter thoughts. Fortunately, Linus recalled his perusal of the family's encyclopedia volumes the day before. He had been particularly absorbed in the W section, and one entry proved to be serendipitously relevant to the matter at hand.
"Lucy," he began, "I wouldn't take Charlie Brown's disinterest in your looks so personally. After all, haven't you and he known each other since you were very small?"
"Yeah, so?" She frowned at him.
"Then Charlie Brown could be just experiencing the Westermarck Effect toward you."
She turned, glaring. "The Wester what?"
"Briefly put," Linus answered, "when two people have known each other since before the age of six, they're more likely to view each other as siblings and less likely to become romantically involved. So, Charlie Brown may think you have a pretty face, but he wouldn't be affected by it because he subconsciously sees you as a sister."
"Sister, huh?" Lucy knitted her brow.
Linus nodded calmly. "You could be the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world, but Charlie Brown would never notice because of the Westermarck Effect. He only cares for you as a family member."
To his relief, his sister brightened.
"Saaaaay, that's right!" She laughed, slapping her thigh. "And here I was offended that wishy-washy Charlie Brown didn't find me pretty enough! He probably does, but he's one of the few boys who has the misfortune of being immune to my looks, simply because of how old he was when we first met!"
"Exactly!" Linus beamed, pleased to see her mollified. "So, don't take it personally that he doesn't get nervous around you."
"That's a load off my mind! I can live with him not thinking I'm beautiful then," she beamed, and her whole demeanor changed to her sweeter self. She even skipped the rest of the way home, but when she reached the stoop, she stopped in her tracks. Whirling around, her frown returned.
"Wait a minute. Schroeder's known me for about as long as Charlie Brown has, but he doesn't see me as his sister."
Linus looked at her, and, before he could think twice about it, he replied, "Are you sure about that?"
She opened her mouth as though to retort — and her entire face changed. Her complexion became a funny color, and her eyes shot wide open as though Linus had declared that the Earth would plunge into the sun within the next five minutes.
Linus covered his mouth, realizing too late his error. "I could be wrong, Lucy—"
But she clutched her head and screamed.
The house was empty when Linus and Lucy eventually went inside, but that was par for the course. Dad had a big business deal coming up, and he had already spent several late nights at the office in preparation, even slipping in on Sundays. Mom could be anywhere from a meeting with the League of Women Voters to the grocery store to a PTA meeting by this point. Rerun had gone over to a friend's house for a homework project and would be having dinner there.
"Speaking of dinner," Linus murmured to himself, obeying his stomach's pleadings by making his way to the kitchen. There was not much in the fridge, though, so cold cereal would have to do, once again.
As he went about getting the supplies for his supper, Lucy followed him as though on autopilot. Her large eyes seemed more out of focus than normal, and her mouth was perpetually parted. Linus had rarely seen her so shaken. Linus hoped she would recover soon as he did not know how to get her to a doctor while his parents were absent. He made sure she sat down when he did, and he poured a bowl of Snicker Snacks for Lucy but did not add the milk, lest the cereal become soggy before Lucy could eat it. He also kept watch to make sure the prize had not fallen into her dinner, lest she choke on a plastic vorpal sword. ("An essential blade for the Snicker Snack's Jabberwock Knight! Collect all five!")
"You should eat something," Linus said kindly, putting a spoon in her motionless hand as though she were a doll. "You need to keep your strength up in case you have to go to the hospital due to shock."
She blinked several times at her bowl, but she did not seem to see it. Linus patted her head before he settled on his chair, splashing milk onto his sugary supper. His munching and the tick of the kitchen clock were the loudest sounds heard in the house for a long time. As Linus reached the final bits of cereal, Lucy at last moved, leaning back in her kitchen chair.
"But I don't see Schroeder as my brother," she squeaked in a small, almost little-girl voice, as though there had been no break in their conversation. "How come I can be in love with him while he doesn't love me back?"
Linus lowered his spoon into his now colored milk. "As a psychiatrist, you should know some things aren't an exact science. Different variables in your childhood could have shaped your love map which allowed you to notice Schroeder, but his childhood made him see you as a sister."
"But how can I change his variables so that they're compatible with my variables?" she whimpered. "I can't bear it if he only sees me as his sister for the rest of our lives."
"You can't do it overnight," Linus pointed out. "It took years for Schroeder to get to this point, so you have to be willing to give him the necessary time to undo the effects."
Lucy made a quick grab for his arm. He thought she meant to hit him, but she merely gripped his wrist, staring at him with pleading eyes.
"You're smart, Linus," she said. "What do I have to do?"
He hesitated, unused to seeing her like this. While Lucy had both her sweet and vulnerable moments, never had Linus seen her so… devastated. Often, he had thought that Schroeder was Lucy's one true weakness. Just as Linus's security blanket had often made him feel safe and helped him deal with daily stress, so did Schroeder unintentionally help Lucy. Just the prospect of being near him could calm Lucy and even cure her of sulking in the beanbag when nothing else helped.
Although Linus did not want to give his sister false hope, he could empathize with her enduring unrequited longing.
"Let the court record show that I make no promises, Your Honor," he began slowly, "but 'absence makes the heart grow fonder,' supposedly. Maybe you should stay away from Schroeder long enough that his subconscious stops seeing you as a sister."
Lucy wilted. "How long will that take?"
He met her staring eyes with a grim look. "How long are you willing to wait?"
"When it comes to Schroeder?" She lowered her gaze, releasing his arm. "Forever."
"Give it a month, for starters," Linus said sensibly. "A lot can happen in thirty days, you know. Then you can try again next month. Then the next."
She let out a long sigh. "I once pretended to break things off with Schroeder, just to make him realize how much he'd miss me, but I just couldn't stay away. Maybe if I had pulled it off back then, he wouldn't feel the Northwest Effect for me now."
"Westermarck, Lucy. Westermarck," he corrected. He leaned his elbows on his table, giving her an encouraging smile. "Maybe you just need a new hobby. Something that'll keep you too busy to go to Schroeder's house for a month."
"Like what?"
Linus rubbed his chin, thinking it over. "The big bulletin board at school always has sign-up sheets for clubs and other extracurricular activities. Tomorrow you can start looking for what fits you best."
"Maybe," Lucy sighed, gazing glumly at her still dry cereal. She picked up her spoon and stirred it through the bits, making a crackling noise, but she did not eat. "Maybe."