Rainjoyswriting - School.pdf

(494 KB) Pobierz
725425137 UNPDF
School
Of course Miss Gold knew the name; surely everyone in Amestris knew that name.
Drawing her eyes down the class list for this September she paused at the only E on the
list, and knew it instantly. Elric-Mustang, Maes, would be one of the twenty other new
starters this week.
Why on earth hadn't he taken his father's name first instead of his - his - his father's
husband's name . . . ?
She lowered her glasses to observe the name over their rims, and thought, But the poor
little lamb. He's never known a mother. I shall have to be kind to him.
Less than five miles away, in the fifth house along in a row of grand terraces, the poor
little lamb said, "What if my teacher's mean?"
Ed pulled the pyjama shirt over his head and ruffled his hair out again. "Then tell me,
we'll find you a new school and I'll make that teacher pay ."
"Your teacher won't be mean, Maes." Roy said from the doorway, leaning there with his
arms folded to provide some balance to whatever (mis)information Ed might offer Maes
about his first day at school.
"What if the children are mean?"
"The children won't be mean, Maes."
Ed hugged Maes so Roy wouldn't be able to see his lips move, and whispered by his ear,
"Quietly point them out and I'll pull their arms off."
"What if I'm not any good at anything?"
"Maes," Roy said, worried about this particular issue for a very different reason, "you're
good at everything ."
And Ed, kneeling in front of his son who stared up at him with such nervous eyes, said so
very calmly, "We'll love you anyway. We will always love you."
And stroked his hair back, and stood up to lead him to bed.
Sometimes Roy felt like such an amateur parent when faced with Ed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lots of small children, in shorts and pinafores and plimsolls, running about the
playground chasing each other and shouting and greeting each other after the long
summer. Parents talking at the edge of the playground by the gate, handing lunchboxes
to their children, holding the hands of large-eyed new arrivals, such a stressful day for
them . . .
Miss Gold watched from her open classroom door, feeling very at peace with the turn of
the seasons and the turn of the terms, watching life move as it should, time for a new set
of children to work through the clockwork of the school now. She picked out the louder
children, the quieter children, who she would have to calm and chastise, who she would
have to draw out and make stand tall . . .
And as soon as a couple of other parents walked out of the way - there he was. She saw
the . . . father, first, she knew his picture well enough from the papers; short man with
long blond hair tied back, crouching down so his son could speak to him face to face. The
Fuhrer's husband wore a serious expression like he was listening and thinking very hard
about what the boy was saying, and the boy was speaking with an urgent expression on
his face and his hands balled nervously at his sides.
And when he fell silent, the Fuhrer's husband smiled, and said something back, and
ruffled his hair with a white-gloved hand.
That boy will grow up spoiled, Miss Gold thought, narrowing her eyes.
On the first day there were always parents lingering at the school gates. And the
Fuhrer's husband was a lingerer - he'd had to gently push his son in the direction of the
doorway anyway, lunchbox in hand, and now he stood behind the fence with the other
parents and waved when the little boy turned back, dark eyes alive with worry, and
pressed his mouth tight at the last sight of his father, and walked up the step into the
classroom.
The Fuhrer's husband stood there a bit longer, leaning on the fence. He didn't seem to
hear when another parent spoke to him.
The fourth time Miss Gold glanced out of the window, he was gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ed walked down the street feeling like a balloon when the child let go of the string. Free
only to disappear.
He made his way from the school with all the parked cars now driving away - he hadn't
even noticed that he'd been almost the only man there to drop his child off today. He was
used to it, anyway. He walked in a daze down the pavement, September sunlight mild
and clean across the road and the crisping leaves of the trees on the verge . . .
He walked past the houses and their well-kempt gardens, walked past the first few
shops with their awnings letting out for another day . . . and stepped into the first phone
box he found. He fed a coin in, dialled, twisted his fingers in the cord.
He spoke to one receptionist, and then another, and then Hawkeye, and then the line
clicked through once more and Roy said, "Edward?"
And it all balled up so hard in Ed's throat and then cracked and burst through like a pipe
breaking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"What?" Roy said, pen still in hand, poised over the space where his signature would sit.
Ed repeated the long wailed noise Roy hadn't been able to interpret the first time around.
"Myyysussuneeemeenmoorr-"
"Edward, deep breaths. Deep breaths, love. Just take three deep breaths for me and try
again."
The sound of Ed choking and gulping and taking three misery-wracked breaths and
sobbing out finally, "Maes - doesn't - need me - any-" and then there was a whump that
must have been his shoulder hitting a wall, and a muffled noise. His hand over his mouth?
"Edward, Ed, of course Maes still needs you-"
"He's all grown up ," Ed said, the last word ending on an uncontrollable squeak.
"Edward, he's just started school. All children start school sooner or later. We both
knew-"
"We should've waited 'til next year! All the other kids were bigger than him, he's only four,
we should've waited 'til next-"
"He's already going to be ten times more advanced than the next most intelligent child in
that room. If we'd left it another year-"
"It's not his fault he's smart! He looked so tiny -"
"So clearly he does still need you."
Ed just made another choking sound. Roy put his pen down so he could squeeze the
bridge of his nose.
"Ed, we discussed this. He won't be the only child not yet five in the class. And you
wanted him to make friends, you thought he needed other children to play with."
"They're all so fucking big they'll squish him," Ed whimpered. "What the fuck are they
feeding those little hippos? Am I not feeding him right? Oh my god, it's my cooking. I'm such
a shitty cook I stunted my kid. Oh god oh god-"
"Edward, I think you can blame your genes for that," Roy murmured, and winced
automatically - but Ed was too caught up in his own wailing to hear him.
"-can take a course! I should take a course, I could get Gracia to teach me, I can-"
"Believe me, I am all for you improving your cooking. But I don't think expanding Maes
horizontally is going to help him."
"Oh hell, oh hell he'll get fat, the other kids'll bully him, Roy I can't do this I'm just gonna go
get him-"
"Don't. You. Dare. We discussed this."
"Roy, you didn't see . . . he looked so little. And so lost, my little - I just - I just want him to be
safe -"
"Edward, we both want that, you know I want him safe. But I don't want to keep him
locked in his bedroom to keep him safe. He needs a life, love."
Ed's unsettled breaths hitched at him for a couple more seconds.
"He can have mine," Ed whispered, and Roy closed his eyes, tightened his jaw, sighed.
The problem was, Maes had had Ed's life for far too long . . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They were meant to say yes miss when their names were read out. They were meant to
say yes miss but Maes' throat had gone to powder and his voice had got buried. When
Miss Gold read his name Maes' parted lips made no sound.
"Maes Elric-Mustang?" Miss Gold repeated, and lowered her big, dark blue register, and
looked right at him. "Say 'yes, miss' if you're here, Maes."
Every head in the room turned to look at him. His voice had left him. His voice was a
frightened bird and it had flown away.
Every face in the room was turned to him.
He cleared his throat and forced out a bird-tiny whisper of, "Yes miss."
"Good boy." Miss Gold said. She raised the register again. "Henry Foster."
"Yes, miss."
Maes concentrated on keeping his face very blank for the children still staring his way.
He was very good at keeping his face very blank.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"An hour," Roy said desperately. Hawkeye lowered her eyebrows at the schedule. "Fifty
minutes," Roy pleaded. Hawkeye looked up and down the layout of the day with keen
but lost brown eyes. "Forty minutes, half an hour, Riza please, there must be something
we can kick-"
"If you don't mind that the new library doesn't get opened," Hawkeye said, pen poised.
"The books will still be there, won't they?"
"Hm," Hawkeye said, and drew in a shiny black ink line.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ed unlocked the door and swung it open. Empty hallway.
He stepped in, kicked his shoes to the wall, kicked the door closed behind himself. The
slam echoed through the house.
If he tried very hard, he could remember the last time he'd been alone in this house. He'd
been pregnant at the time.
He walked through to the kitchen, and there were the breakfast things set out still on the
table. Look at the mess. Terrible. Have to take care of that.
He tried to drag it out. It took under a quarter of an hour.
He walked through to the living room. He turned the radio on, turned it off. He stared at
the float of dust-motes in the light streaming through the window before his brain
snapped back on and he thought, Hell it's dusty in here, all this dust, he could get
allergies. Must dust.
He was very thorough. It took half an hour.
Maybe he could mop the floors.
That took forty minutes. It was now ten to eleven in the morning.
He made a cup of coffee, and sat and stared at it for a while.
Maybe he could wash the curtains.
By one o' clock he was about ready to chew his left arm off for something to do. Halfway
through rearranging the furniture in the living room he thought, Maybe they should
have another kid. Yeah, yeah, dangerous, probably deadly, etcetera etcetera. It would be
something to do , though.
But that made him think of the kid he did have, as if anything could distract him from
that thought anyway, and he wanted to whimper . He felt like he'd betrayed Maes, left
him at the gate alone in some building he didn't know full of strangers and Maes needed
him and -
A clicking at the front door and Ed thought dreamily, Oh good, burglars, and picked up
the mop again, walking through to the hallway to batter their brains out against the

Plik z chomika:

Inne pliki z tego folderu:

Inne foldery tego chomika:

Zgłoś jeśli naruszono regulamin