Ghost Bird | ✔

Twenty-Two

Sang

"Here is your stop," Cleopatra announces. "I'll see you later, Sang."

Soundlessly, I wave goodbye and face the metal door. So much of my life has revolved around doors. Pushing the door open, I slip into the room silently and make my way past the tables and chairs to the desk at the front of the room. The room has no windows like the others, but it is brightly lit by the fluorescent lights above.

A man is fervently scribbling down characters on the giant chalkboard. The expression on the board looks complicated, but the answer is just a few steps away, I can feel it.

"Excuse me?" I say, my voice trembling slightly.

The man jumps about a foot in the air and whirls around, his green eyes wide.

"Who are you?" He exclaims, running a hand through his brown and graying hair, disheveling it further.

"M-My name is Sang," I answer, my voice just above a whisper. "Will that question be in the test?"

"This?" He scoffs. "This is Queen's conjecture."

"Oh?"

Rolling his eyes, he explains, "It's an unsolved math problem. No, this will not be on the test."

"Unsolved?" I echo. "It doesn't look very challenging, just complicated."

"Please," He snorts. "As if you could even come close to solving this problem. In fact, I dare you to try."

With a small shrug, I pluck the chalk from his outstretched hand and take the eraser off his desk. Quickly, I erase the entire board, leaving only the expression.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" He roars. "THAT TOOK ME DAYS!!"

Ignoring him, I quickly write down the correct steps. In less than three minutes, I have the problem solved.

"You messed up one of the key steps," I inform him, my voice wobbling slightly.

He gawks, his eyes darting between me and the board.

"Wha—How did...? No... But... It's solved... You just finished Queen's conjecture!"

Plopping down in his desk chair, he drags a hand over his face and mutters, "I need a moment."

I stand there patiently, unsure of what this strange man wanted.

He bursts out of his seat and announces, "My name is Professor Timothy or simply Prof. And I am very eager to get to know you, Sang."

Hesitantly, I stick my hand out for him to shake.

"Ahh!" Prof exclaims. "Someone with manners!"

I smile, glad that I did something right.

"Not much of a talker? That's fine. Just listen. I like to ramble. Now, sit down at a table and I will hand you the test," Prof instructs before changing his mind and saying, "Never mind. You'll pass, I'm sure. I have another unsolved problem for you."

***

"No!" I exclaim. "You can't do it like that!"

Snatching the new stick of chalk from Prof's hand, I march to the board and fix it.

"Now, try it again," I command, handing him the chalk back.

Prof takes the chalk and scribbles down the numbers and letters until he reaches the answer.

"Ahh!" He shrieks. "I just solved it! I solved Jazmine's unsolvable conjecture!"

"Good job," I laugh. "And it only took three hours."

Prof whirls around and retorts, "Hey! Mathematicians have been trying for years to solve this! Years!"

I wrinkle my nose and respond, "I don't think so, Prof. These so-called "unsolvable" math problems are not as challenging as you make them out to be."

"Well, we can't all be geniuses," Prof replies, sulking. "Well, technically, I am a genius. But, you know, details."

Smiling, I shake my head. I have spent the last four hours in here, getting to know this highly amusing man, Professor Timothy. He is the definition of eccentric and highly intelligent, either despite his quirks or because of his quirks.

"So, Prof, what is the gang like?" I ask.

Turning serious, he answers, "Hard. In this world, there is death and pain. If you can't handle it, you don't survive, and many don't. There are moments like this, and moments with the gang family, though, that makes all the challenging moments worth it."

Nodding, I try to understand that.

"Is this a family like in the books?" I ask, my voice quivering with a hope that I try to stomp down.

"What do you mean?" Prof asks, scratching his head and leaving even more chalk dust in it.

Reluctantly, I clarify, "You know, a family where you get food every day. Where they don't try to kill you or even hurt you. Where you are happy to be around your family all the time and sad to leave them."

Prof puts his hands on my shoulders, ignoring my instinctive flinch.

"Sang, I don't know where you came from," He says seriously. "But I do know that living here will be better. You will never be hurt here, among your family, I promise you that."

Closing my eyes, I fight back the tears that rise at his words. Here, among a group of strangers, I have found warmth, comfort, and friendship that I never had among my blood family.