Tongues of Fire

DAY 4

It was raining this morning as I rushed to my first class. I had received an early text message from Audrey, although 'message' is an overstatement. She'd sent me a hyperlink to a NASA article that read 'Definitely not from our Solar System' which was the conclusion reached by scientists after investigating the surface of the rock. I'm always late for work, so was only able to browse through a couple of other articles which detailed how Orphana featured a fuzzy, non-eroded coating, unlike the solar-bound asteroids from our system, which have a leaner surface from years of being locked in one orbit. And that was it. No other words to accompany the message. I didn't know what to make of it.

I found myself teaching the same thing over and over again. The sum of natural numbers is one of the simplest formulae in mathematics that even ten year old children can grasp. It's also complex enough for them to be able to use algebra instead of arithmetic to comprehend addition with larger numbers. Although they had already learned how these equations work, I needed a breather today (after yesterday events), so I just wrote down a few series of additions on the board and gave them enough time to do the calculations on their own. The last thing I had asked them was to tell me the formula for additions up to 'n' natural numbers. I realized I couldn't find any strength to teach anything new today, at least not for the very first hour of the morning. Three of them came to the board and wrote down the answers to some simple addition. Melinda wanted to solve the problem for 'n' numbers. As she approached the board I asked her if she was feeling better than yesterday.

'Yeah. Why?'

'You were running a bit of fever yesterday.'

She shrugged and continued: 'I don't remember'. And she went to the board. I've always liked this girl. She seems smart, polite and never bothers me with silly questions. For the first time today, I wasn't thinking about Audrey or checking my phone regularly. I watched Melinda as she picked up the piece of chalk in a very orderly fashion, displaying adult-like composure in her movements. She gave off a very soothing energy, almost Buddhist-like, and, for the first time since that moment on the train to Tahoe, I felt energized by grandiose ideas of creating new work.

That's when the phone rang and I snapped out of the present condition and scrambled for it in my pockets. I never save anyone's number except for my dad's, Audrey's and Ella's. I find it difficult to talk on the phone. I feel like it's imposed on me to function in the present world. And I almost never answer when it rings during the day, unless, again, it's one of the three mentioned above. I didn't recognize the number but something told me to pick up.

'You old crook', it started. I spent my entire life trying to get out of Sonoma County, while you were jazzying it up with girls in New York, and now that I finally move here you go back home', and the husky male voice laughed and coughed at the same, producing a horrible sound which made me wonder who on earth the crook really was.

Quick. I needed to think who this was. I kind of recognized the voice, but when you are caught off-guard not one name comes to mind.

'Who is this?'

'"Who is this?"', and he laughed and coughed again. 'It's Ben. Caruthers. You tried to phone me last night.'

I need to tell Ben one of these days that he has the same name as a 50s actor who made his name in a John Cassavetes film called 'Shadows'. Great film but he wasn't very good in it. Although it's highly likely Ben already knew this. I closed the classroom door behind me and continued the conversation in the tiny passage with molded, wooden floors that links up the classroom with the staff room.

'Ben! Hi! How... how did you know I was back home?'

'I have my sources. It's called a Blue Force Tracker. Remember, I was an Army Intelligence Operative for one year'. He loved saying this. He was no more an Army operative than I was Mary Magdalene. When he was in his early twenties, he was an assistant invigilator for the Army a few times when they had to screen new soldiers for psychological disorders. Basically, he sat in a room during an IQ test, making sure the soldiers were not cheating. His father, a psychiatrist, asked Ben if he wanted to tag along, in an effort to reconnect with his son. 'I ran into "Don't call me Shirley" and he told me you'd had enough of New York and had gone home'. He continued and referenced Tim Schurlley, who we used to call 'Shirley' because of the Airplane! movie. 'Bad move, if you ask me. You're wasting your talents in California". He always liked to praise my intelligence in this very direct, coming-to-a verdict sort of way. 'I bet you'll be back here in no time.'