The Bookworm
Jon Coley
For Harper
I always wonder what’s going on in your head.
Prologue
Matthew had a good visit with his brother, Chadwick. He seemed to be more lucid, more attached to reality this morning. That was good. Rare, but good. It was almost like being with the big brother he looked up to in his childhood. The one who read him a bedtime story almost every night when he was little. On his good days, one would wonder why the man had been committed at all. But Matthew knew it was all too temporary. An orca could swim comfortably in a pool that was filled with the tears he’d shed over his brother. Their parents were both gone now. Chadwick’s hair had some gray on the ends now, and it had been this way for so many years now. Soon enough the poor fellow would begin his maniacal rantings about other worldly creatures and dark phantoms. It was such a shame, heart breaking really.
At least today was a good day. The weather was pleasant, and so was the visit. Chadwick had been painting again, the brushstrokes huge with vibrant colors. One could feel the mountains and valleys just by looking at the canvas. Matthew left his big brother at the home for the mentally disturbed and climbed into his old red truck. Slowly the crankshaft turned until the engine finally sputtered to life. It was a long drive back to his house. His back was going to be angry about it too. At least the fall weather was cooperating, and the scenery pleasant this time of year. He wanted to get there before his son got home from school.
Young Brian was such a bright kid. He and his wife were quite proud of him. Matthew was amazed at how driven the boy could be. What a self starter that child was. The only real fear they had was that he was such a bookworm, which was something that made him so much like his uncle.
Chapter 1
Brian loved crisp, autumn mornings. The air was cool, but the sun was quite warm. Light breezes gently tickled the hairs on his arms. He took a deep breath and began his morning trek to school. As the front door closed, he heard his mom telling him to have a good day in her high, almost sing song morning voice. He waved back at the window instead of yelling. That was his nature. He hated having to talk. It was so ... exasperating.
What he did love, though, was reading. The truth was that he loved reading more than playing, which was quite rare for a fifth grader, or any kid for that matter. With the morning home rituals completed, Brian was ready to start his short journey to his favorite place, the private school that he had earned the right to attend for free through an academic scholarship. The school was located in his community, but he was one of the few kids from his working class neighborhood that attended.
It was a good morning to walk to school. The nearby park still proposed the same problem for him that it did every day, though. In the middle of the park, there was a stream. It was bigger than most, but not quite big enough to be called a creek. The water moved fast enough to be heard, the proverbial babbling brook. Brian knew it would be a great deal easier to use the footbridge, which gave easy passage at a wider, but picturesque, point of the stream. This, of course, was one of the main attractions of the park. But he, once again, skirted that path and followed the stream to a more narrow crossing point. There, next to the woods, he crossed with a leap, the cold water splashing off his well worn shoes. Every morning was the same in this way. He would shirk his self prescribed duties to face his fear, as irrational as it was, only to admonish himself for taking the longer route. One day, he would have to cross that old bridge. He didn’t want to end up like his Uncle Chadwick, afraid of his own shadow. Plus, he thought he heard a big animal rustling around in the nearby woods.
The journey between Brian’s home and his beloved school wasn’t too far. He did, like always, have to rush after crossing the stream. Getting to school on time was his responsibility and he took it seriously. So he broke into a jog. Soon the woods gave way to a clearing, and the noble spire of the institution’s main edifice appeared, like an arrow aimed at the sky. He set foot on the concrete sidewalk just as the tardy bell began to ring. Once again, he made it just in the nick of time. Sure he would have preferred to get to campus early, if only to spend more time in that marvelous library filled with old and new books of all kinds and genres, but he was glad to have avoided being late for class. It had been a long week at home during fall break. All his old reading materials had been voraciously consumed long ago. He was eager to get back to his studies.
After retrieving his literature book from his locker, Brian made his way to his first class. His shoes squeaked as he walked due to the stream water and the morning dew, but his weren’t the only ones making that noise. Unlike everyone else, he had already read more than half of the books related to the excerpts in his textbook, another of his self prescribed goals. Part of it was competition, though he knew he was the only one who took the time to actually do this. But he thoroughly relished the stories, especially the classics. He loved fantasy, historical fiction, folk tales, or any good literature really. Reading was his super power, and in his mind, the only advantage he truly had in this world.
Most of the other kids were already seated. This didn’t bother him here like it would have in his old school, where everyone always seemed to stare at the last kid walking in for some reason and there were always the ubiquitous thumps on the ear if you weren’t paying attention. The neighborhood kids were more rough-and-tumble. The classes here were only about half the size of any given public school. The “Dormies,” as they were called on campus were mostly foreign students. About half of them were Asian. Most of the rest were a mix of European nationalities with just a few Africans scattered throughout the grade levels. They were all pretty studious, so chatter was kept to a minimum. Brian was a “Day Dog.” These were usually students from well-to-do, local families. He wasn’t well-to-do, though. He was a scholarship kid. Most of those were for athletics, though there were no dumb jocks on campus to be sure. He was the only academic scholarship recipient in his grade level. There were a few others like him in the high school, but he was the only one in lower school. Still, he was much more comfortable in these hallowed halls than anywhere else, really. Plus, he’d earned his place.
Like the other kids in his literature class, Brian began to get set up. His teacher still hadn’t arrived, but this wasn’t too unusual either. Students were trusted to behave well on campus, unlike the daily situation in his former public school. If you couldn’t cut the mustard here in any way, you were simply dismissed. He respected this policy, as draconian as it may have been, because it was enforced fairly, no matter how rich or powerful one’s family was. There was due process too, with probation, but immoral misbehavior was not tolerated. This actually made Brian even more comfortable. Here he knew where he stood. He hadn’t sported the first black eye since he enrolled, which was a definite check in the win column to his mind.
A few minutes later, the general noise level fell to a complete hush. A man strolled through the door with his nose in an old book. He walked behind the desk and set the book down, still reading it while standing. Some of the other kids looked at each other. Finally, he put a bookmark between the pages and slowly closed the book. Brian noticed a faint cloud of yellowish dust. The old book must have been dug out from deep in the library. Mrs. Griffin, the librarian, was usually incredibly meticulous about keeping her books in pristine shape.
“Good morning. As you can see, I am not Mrs. Courtney, unless she’s a particularly ugly woman.”
He grinned and a few kids chuckled.
“My name is Mr. Dyer, and I have a message from Mrs. Courtney to her students. First, she regrets to inform you that she will not be returning to her teaching duties until after spring break. She had to return to her hometown to take care of some family business. She wished to convey that she still had high expectations from each and every one of you and that she fully anticipated you all being on schedule when she returned.”
Mr. Dyer was slightly odd to Brian. He wasn’t what one would expect to see in a substitute teacher for a private school. Sure, he was well dressed. But it was his demeanor, even his build that was askew. He wasn’t a skinny old bed of wrinkles with thin wisps of white hair floating about his crown. Nor was he a corpulent pile of flesh belonging to a man believing that his body’s sole purpose was but to carry his head around. No, Mr. Dyer was different. While not particularly tall or overwhelmingly muscular, he was lean and well built, what his mom would have called big boned. (She didn’t mean it the way most people do.) But he also wasn’t like his physical education teacher, who only focused on his body and was continually dreaming up new ways to torture little nerds like him. He was so in-between. All that with what seemed to be a dry sense of humor and general good nature was ... off putting to Brian. He didn’t know what to think about the man. It didn’t matter really, he supposed, because he was obviously stuck with him for the next few months, anyway. That is, until his favorite teacher returned. But until then, it looked like it was going to be a long, cold winter. He made space ready in his brain for this day’s surprise. Brian hated surprises.
Chapter 2
The school day was reasonably uneventful. Classes moved on without too much drudgery. Brian was still as glad as ever to be in those hallowed halls. Every moment was validation of his ability and tenacity. He worked hard to be there and enjoyed it thoroughly. Even his physical education class was okay to him. Some days were harder than others in gym class, but there was far less harassment from the other kids in comparison to his old school, which was nice. Sure, Coach Mathis was tough on him, but he was like that with everyone. Brian didn’t take it personally, and sometimes he even had fun.
It wasn’t until recess that Brian saw Mr. Dyer again. He was on his way to the library to return some of the books he’d read over the break, and to hopefully retrieve a book that was on hold for him that covered the psychology of phobias. The librarian, a nice enough lady, seemed nonplussed when he requested it. This didn’t surprise him in the least. It wasn’t the usual book for a fifth grader. But he needed to know why people had such strange fears, and he didn’t want to end up like his Uncle Chadwick. As he opened the door, he saw Mr. Dyer with his nose in a book. The man looked up and gave him a nod.
“It’s a beautiful day outside, Brian. Surprised you’re not playing with the other kids.”
Brian didn’t know what to say. He nodded back to his new teacher and walked up to the librarian to drop off his books. He love the feel and smell of the wax finish on the wooden shelf. He leaned on it as the librarian checked the status of the book in her computer. Unfortunately, it still wasn’t in.
“Sorry Brian,” said Mrs. Griffin, “High school kids never turn in their books on time, even around here.”
“Thank you anyway. I’ll check again tomorrow.”
Mrs. Griffin nodded and resumed her work. For the first time in weeks, at least at school, Brian didn’t have a book in his hands. It felt so strange to him. He thought about browsing, but for some reason, he felt the need to get out of there. However, he had to pass by Mr. Dyer on the way to the exit. Much to his chagrin, the man looked up from his book as he passed by.
“Didn’t have your book, huh? Well, may as well go out and get some sunshine. There won’t be many more days like today this year. Consider it a blessing. Psychology books can be so dull, except for Jung. His stuff is pretty cool.”
“Yes sir,” Brian answered awkwardly. He passed by the man and exited the library. For the first time, he actually went to the school playground of his own accord. This was the one area that was just like his old school. At least it felt that way to him. Some of the kids were running laps, working off their demerits. Most of them were playing tag or swinging. He wasn’t interested in any of that, so he decided to take a walk, the one physical activity he enjoyed because it cleared his mind. It wasn’t until a few minutes later, with the brisk walk illuminated his thinking, that it occurred to him. Mr. Dyer knew his name even though he didn’t take attendance this morning. And he knew what Brian wanted to read!
*
Later that afternoon, it was a perfect day for a walk through the park. Brian knew that it was the way he should go, but he found himself standing between the woods and the other path leading to the bridge. Perplexed by his sense of duty in battle with his sense of dread, the decision couldn’t be made. It was when he remembered his encounter with his strange new teacher that he at last decided to walk by the woods and jump the stream at its narrower point again, regardless of the cold damp that would inevitably sink into his toes. Usually a sense of guilt and shame would ensue, but today he was too concerned with the strange happenings at school, so those emotions ebbed. The image of his new teacher surrounded by golden dust haunted him.
Instead of focusing on what he couldn’t control, Brian used his alone time during the walk to consider his fear of the bridge. He wasn’t afraid of bridges themselves. He had traveled innumerable bridges with his family on various trips. It was only that one bridge in particular. Why did his heart race every time he tried to set foot on those old, rough wooden boards? Even if it were a rickety safety hazard, which it wasn’t, he was a fine swimmer. It was one of his few athletic skills, other than walking. The bridge occupied his mind for the entire walk home.
“Good afternoon, Sweetheart!” his mother sang out cheerily as he entered the kitchen. He just waved and smiled at her. “Your father should be home soon. He went to visit your Uncle Chadwick. How was school today?”
“Fine. We got a new Literature Teacher today. He’ll be replacing Mrs. Courtney until after Spring Break.”
“Oh. I hope everything is okay,” his mother said with a trace of concern as she pulled dinner from the oven. Brian shrugged.
“I don’t know. The new teacher’s name is Mr. Dyer.”
“Hmm, Dyer. I’m not familiar with that name. Well, I’m sure everything will be just fine. Do you have a new book to read?”
“No,” Brian said flatly, but decided to add, “The book I wanted’s not in yet, so I went out to recess.”
His mother smiled in surprise, “Wonderful! Nothing wrong with reading, but you should always make time to play with your friends.”
He nodded, uncommitted to the idea, and left the kitchen. That was the longest conversation they’d had in weeks. It was exhausting for him, but he was glad he could say something to make her smile. She had the kind of smile that began in the heart, came up, and illuminated everything around her. At least something positive could be gained from this strange day. He had no idea how strange his days were going to get.
