Aevum of Itero

Chapter 17

Reading, writing, arithmetic.

They were the core subjects of a Minnesotan elementary school in the late seventies. She had excelled in them all well into high school and yet, looking down at the packet of papers in front of her, she couldn't seem to remember any of her arithmetic.

Or perhaps arithmetic had been much more difficult back in the day.

Brenda looked over at her nearly one-month old son. Aiden had caused her a restless night with the fear that he had developed colic or some other terrible sickness, one of the many affecting the infant mortality rate. It concerned her that her son may be suffering from an illness carrying a name Brenda may have never heard of, with a treatment left undeveloped until modern medicine.

She needn't have fret, for Aiden rested enveloped in a blissful calm, his attention successfully captured by the sound of the sea.

It was a brief respite in a week of heavy rainfall, and when the sun had begun to peek out, every intact window of the Buckley household had opened.

"I do believe ye have a little sea captain in the making, Bren," said Diolún, holding Aiden out before him. "The wee lad is calmed by nothing but the waves along the coastline."

"I suppose that must have been passed along from me," said Brenda. "Aiden's father is - was - not fond of the sea."

"How can ye not be fond of the sea?" Diolún's face indicated the idea alone was blasphemous. "Did your late husband possess a fear of the sea?"

"He did not," said Brenda. "He simply preferred to watch me enjoy the waves, rather than enter into them himself."

"Did ye spend quite a bit of yer time in the waves?"

Could she tell him about surfing? Was a woman of her status supposed to enjoy surfing in that time period? Did she care?

"Quite a bit," said Brenda. "I danced in the waves. I often visited the sea whilst my sons were still in the womb. It calmed them then, as well."

"Then have ye perhaps reconsidered the idea of joining me? Aiden would make a brilliant first mate." Diolún broke into a series of faces aimed at Aiden, who pursed his lips, raised an eyebrow, and turned his head for a millisecond in Brenda's direction.

She believed that was her son's way of asking for her to agree to Diolún's question.

"I have," she said.

"And?" asked Diolún, his voice laden with hope. Aiden returned to looking at Diolún, clamping onto Diolún's scruff when it drew near.

"And, though Aiden does seem to carry a fondness for the sea, I would rather he not travel by ship whilst he is still so young."

"I understand," said Diolún, though his shoulders deflated.

"But if the offer is still around when Aiden has reached his second birthday," she added, "then I am happy to reopen the subject of joining you in your travels."

Diolún smiled. "The offer is open-ended. Ye are welcome to agree to it at any point ye feel comfortable." He crouched towards the floor, setting Aiden on a blanket for Aiden to play on his tummy. The movement reminded Brenda of a surfer waiting for a wave. "How are yer studies faring?"

"Terribly." Brenda closed her books. "I seem to have forgotten everything I was taught, even the most basic of multiplication. I will undoubtedly make a horrendous teacher."

"That is very much in doubt, as ye have shone in everything ye have attempted," said Diolún. "Did ye hold an occupation in Boston?"

Brenda took a chance and told Diolún of her life as an actress, though she made it seem that the theatre had been in Boston, rather than in London.