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004

CHAPTER FOUR

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december 22, 1970

     THE PASSAGE OF TIME somehow manages to feel like both the blink of an eye and like treading through molasses. Mr Hunham has the teenagers in the library working on school assignments, and Esther, who he still hasn't figured out a curriculum for, sits curled up in the corner of the room with a copy of Shirley Jackson's We Have Always Lived in the Castle. She turns the pages as quietly as she can to avoid disrupting the boys' study, but with Hunham constantly slurping from his mug and clearing his throat, her effort is rendered null.

     "Are you kidding me?" Jason whispers, though he's loud enough that even Esther can hear him from the other side of the room. "It's only eleven, and he's already lit. I can smell the whiskey on him."

     "Can you blame him?" Angus responds. "It's freezing in here. It's fucking Greenland in here."

     He's cut off by the quiet whirring of a helicopter in the distance. Jason perks up, a smile plastering itself onto his face. Hunham slams his book shut. "What the hell is that?" he asks.

     Jason jumps to his feet and books it to the window, everybody else crowding close behind him. A second after they gather, a yellow helicopter flies past. "I knew it! He finally caved, the big softie!" He breaks away from the group, running toward the library's exit. "Hey, any of you guys like to ski?" he asks.

     The helicopter makes its way to one of the open fields on Barton's campus and descends, and a tall man dressed in a neat, warm jacket climbs out. He sets off toward the building and the rest of the teenagers scramble for the door, all hoping for a chance of getting off the campus. Mr Hunham meets Jason's father at the door to the building and ushers him and Jason into the office to discuss their plans. The rest of the teenagers watch through the door's window as he stops talking and starts making phone calls. After ten minutes, Jason extends a thumbs up and Hunham emerges.

     "Well, good news, gentlemen. I was able to reach Doctor Woodrup and your parents," he begins, turning to face Angus. "Uh, most of them, anyway." He turns back to the rest of the boys. "Mister Kountze, Mister Park, Mister Ollerman, go grab your things."

     The three boys dart away to the infirmary to pack up their belongings without hesitation. Esther waits, rocking back and forth on her feet. "What about me? You said you got in contact with Woodrup."

     Hunham sighs. "He hasn't given permission for you to leave," he says slowly. Delicately.

     Her face falls. "So, I'm just stuck here?" she asks, voice raised.

     "Miss Yasui—" Hunham says, holding his hands out as if he's trying to calm a wild animal.

     Esther storms down the hall. "Oh, this is bullshit!" she shouts, disappearing into the library to collect her book from where she left it. She sits down in the corner of the room for a minute until she decides that isolating herself is even more pathetic than facing the departing boys head-on. So, she leaves the room again and barges past Hunham and Angus and heads for the infirmary, where she sits down on the edge of the bed with a huff.

     "You're not packing?" Ye-Joon asks, mid-stuffing his folded clothes back into his suitcase.

     Esther tries to mask her scowl — it's not Ye-Joon's fault, after all. "Nope," she says, falling backwards so that she's lying down. Not long after she arrives, Angus shows up, dejectedly standing in the Left Room's open doorway.

     Ye-Joon finishes packing and moves past the pair to leave. "Happy holidays," he says.

     "Same to you," Angus replies.

     "Yeah, back at you," says Esther.

     On the other side of the hall, Jason shuffles out of the Right Room. "Take care, Tully," he says before dipping into the Left Room. He bumps his leg against Esther's to get her attention. "Hey, if you want to organise our marriage contract when the school year is over," he says. He passes over a slip of paper, which Esther has to do a half sit-up to reach.

     He's scrawled his home phone number with an added note reading strictly for business and a smiley face.

     "Oh, I'm getting that private helicopter," Esther says, tucking the note into her patterned button-up shirt's front pocket. "Happy holidays, man."

     Jason nods at her. "You too," he says as he leaves.

     "I guess that just leaves you two, huh?" Teddy jeers, striding out of the Right Room with his bags in hand. "Be sure to do all your homework." He stops in front of Angus and his eyes widen. "Oh, almost forgot. I found that picture you were looking for," he says, tucking a square photograph into Angus' shirt pocket. "Merry Christmas, Mister Tully."

     Angus pulls the photo out of his pocket and within seconds of looking at it, all of the remaining colour in his face has faded. He can't tear his gaze away, even as Alex trails out with his goodbyes. And when he finally can, it's only to throw the photo to the floor and grab his puffer coat from the Left Room so he can go outside.

     So, alone, Esther stands and starts to gather her shit. If it's just going to be her and Tully for the rest of the break, she's going to take advantage of the completely empty Right Room and switch. Esther's a pretty neat person — a side effect of years of gym lockers and competition change rooms, she thinks — so it doesn't take her long to shove her things into her open suitcase and drag the pair across the hall. She dumps the bags in front of the bed that had belonged to Alex for the past week and claims the bed that Jason had been sleeping in. She won't be touching Teddy's with a ten-foot pole — who knows what he's been doing in there.

     She decides to unpack later, so she collects her winter coat and throws it on top of her clothing. Before she leaves, she stops to pick up Angus' photo from the ground where it landed face-down.

     It's a Tully family portrait, clearly a few years old judging by the yellowing of the page and how young Angus looks in it, with the word "fuckwad" written over the top of the background in black marker, and an arrow pointing at young-Angus.

     Esther ponders over it for a moment and feels her heart grow heavy. If someone had done that to her favourite photo of her and her father, she'd be getting carted off to jail right about now. She turns and tucks the photo into the side pocket of her bag, where she's temporarily placed her art supplies. Then, she hurries outside to bid her new friends, and Teddy, goodbye.

     The air bites at her exposed skin, so she tucks her bare hands into the sleeves of her coat and buries her face deeper into the collar as she comes to stand with Angus and Hunham. She makes it just in time to watch the four teenagers, and Jason's dad and the pilot, climb aboard. Ye-Joon and Jason both turn to wave goodbye to her one last time before the door slides shut and the helicopter takes off once again.

     Hunham sighs, his breath turning to white fog before him. "Well, let's make the best of it, shall we?"

————

     For a change of scenery, Hunham ushers Angus and Esther down to Mary Lamb's living quarters for the evening. It's actually quite cozy down here, with warm lamps and cushy armchairs and a TV set playing game show after game show. Mary and Hunham sit in front of the TV, half watching the screen as couples battle it out to discover who knows their partner better, while Angus and Esther hole up at the back of the room sharing a single lamp between the two of them.

     Esther's paint set and a small plastic cup of water rests on the small table between their two armchairs, and she works with her body facing away from Angus so he can't see what she's doing. Not that he cares, he's too engrossed in his comic book to give her any attention right now.

     He can't see her mixing and remixing paints until she has the perfect shade of yellowy-beige to mask out the fuckwad arrow on his photo.

     The woman on the TV gets an answer wrong, making Hunham chuckle loudly around his pipe. His laughter draws Esther out of her concentrated trance.

     "How about you? You ever been married?" Mary asks.

     Hunham wheezes. "No. I did get close once. Right after college," he replies.

     "And?" Mary prompts.

     "We came to our senses. This is not exactly a face forged for romance, Mary," Hunham says, gesturing to his face with his own pipe.

     Esther sits up straighter, holding the photo close to her body. "Hey, don't count yourself out. You've seen Woodrup," she says. Angus snorts and convulses a little in his seat. Esther turns to him. "Oh, you better get used to me insulting that man. I do it all the time," Esther chuckles.

     Hunham shakes his head, masking a small smile of his own. "I don't know. I like being alone. I've always found myself drawn to the aesthetic. Like a monk. The forgoing of sensual pleasures for the achievement of spiritual goals."

     "Spiritual goals?" Mary asks. "You?" Her voice is thick with disbelief. "What spiritual goals are we talking about? You go to church?"

     The teacher shrugs. "Only when required."

     "Exactly," Mary says, nodding. "When's the last time you even left campus?"

     Hunham turns around, genuinely looking offended for the first time. "I go into town all the time, for groceries and various errands and appointments."

     Esther unfurls from her curled-up position and lightly kicks Angus' leg. He looks up at her, brows furrowed. "What is happening?" Esther mouths. Angus shrugs, clearly trying not to look as amused as he feels. She shakes her head and goes back to paint mixing — adding a little more brown to her yellowy-beige to fix the more shadowy parts of the background.

     "Let me ask you something. If you could go anywhere on Earth, where would you go?" Mary questions.

     Hunham chuckles. "Greece, Italy, Egypt, Peru, Carthage. Tunisia now, of course. In college, I started a monograph on Carthage. I'd like to finish that someday," he says. After a beat, he turns back to Mary. "A monograph is like a book, only shorter."

     Mary nods along. "I know what a monograph is."

     "Why not just write a book?" Angus asks.

     After a moment of thinking it over, Hunham shakes his head. "I'm not sure I have an entire book in me," he remarks.

     Mary ponders over his statement. "You can't even dream a whole dream, can you?"

————

december 23, 1970

     Esther rises early, naturally today. Her alarm is the faint white sunlight, not Hunham's bedpan clanging and shouting. Even through the curtains and window glass, Esther can tell that today will be a freezing day. Perfect, she thinks, for hitting the ice.

     She scrambles out of bed and opens her skating suitcase, propped up nice and neat on top of Alex's former bed, pulling out anything she might need for her expedition. Warm clothes are a must — she grabs her thickest thermal leggings and long-sleeve top and changes out of her pyjamas into them, then layers a burgundy puffer coat, black beanie, scarf, and leg warmers over those. She snatches up her skates — pretty and white and not yet scuffed, and a pair of black gloves and slips on a pair of white sneakers to trudge through the snow in.

     It's easy getting outside — neither Hunham and Angus stir as she passes by their rooms — and once she gets to the side of the lake, she parks her ass down on a nearby bench and switches shoes. After she finishes tying her laces, she pulls on her gloves and stands, teetering her way toward the edge of the ice. She regains her balance the second she's on the ice.

     She's gliding, and for the first time in that whole week, she feels free.

     For the first ten or so minutes, she runs some conditioning drills. It's been a while since she's hit the ice, after all. A few laps around the lake, a few spins and jumps, and she's ready to run her routine.

     "What are you doing?"

     Esther bends her knees and pushes her legs out, stopping herself in place. She looks up to see Angus at the edge of the ice, arms crossed over his chest. She gestures all around her — at the lake, what she's wearing — and stares at him. "Baking a cake," she responds, stepping out of her snowplough stop into a regular standing position. He gives her nothing. "I'm training. Winter Olympics trials start next year."

     "Olympics?" Angus asks. Esther nods. "Shit."

     "Why? You think I'm not good enough?" Esther asks, teasing him.

     "I didn't say that. I've barely seen you skate, anyway," Angus says. Esther hums and goes to turn back, to continue her practice. "Wait. Show me something."

     Esther turns back. "Like what?" she asks.

     Angus shrugs. "I dunno. Hardest trick you can do!"

     Esther's brows raise. "Okay, but if I mess up, I'm blaming you," she warns, starting to skate away.

     "That seems fair enough," Angus mutters, taking a step back from the edge of the ice for a better view.

     The girl runs through a list of all the hard tricks she knows how to do and can execute without a hitch, then stops. She turns back to Angus. "This has never been done in competition before, so you can't judge me."

     Angus shrugs again. "We're not in competition. It's just you and me here."

     She takes a moment to centre herself before she starts skating, doing a full lap to gain momentum. Her arms go up, she glides forward onto her left leg, lifts her right knee, and uses all that momentum to jump. She rotates not once, not twice, but three times before landing on that right leg — a little shaky but undeniably successful. She stops herself, laughing from the shock and elation, and looks over to see Angus clapping.

     So, she fixes her face and takes a bow.

     "If you do that for the Olympics, you've gotta make it."

     She skates over to the edge. "I have a lot of work to do on that trick before it's competition-ready," she replies, still a little giddy with excitement.

     "Well, I think it's good," Angus says. He extends a hand to help Esther off the ice, but she shakes her head and gestures for her sneakers. It'll be easier that way. Angus jogs to the bench to retrieve them and plops them on the snow in front of her. "What's got you skating today, anyway?" he asks.

    Esther bends down to untie her laces and change her shoes. "It's my birthday," she replies. She pulls her right foot out of her skate and shoves it into her sneaker. "Felt right." She switches her other shoe over and stands, skates in hand.

"Oh, shit. Happy birthday," Angus says.

Esther runs her index finger and thumb over the blades of her skates, removing the shaved ice and snow that has accumulated on the metal. "Thank you," she says. She hisses sharply, suddenly, as she slices her finger open on one of the blades. She sticks her finger into her mouth in the hopes that it will alleviate the sting.

No matter how many times she does it, it never hurts any less.

"Shit, are you okay?" Angus asks, watching as a drop of bright red blood hits the snow.

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine," Esther replies, spitting a mouthful of blood and saliva onto the snow. "Just needs a Band-Aid." She looks up at the taller boy. "Happy birthday to me, right?"


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a/n:
when i say i was watching a youtube tutorial for the axel jump and just writing down everything she was saying in my desperate attempt to get it as accurate as possible lmaoo. i am NOT an athlete and the closest i've ever been to an ice rink is watching the netflix show spinning out (and i still miss it)

so thank u coach michelle hong and ur tutorial from 2018 i owe u my life

question of the chapter time: what's a skill you wish you had? i'm going with ice skating but i'd also kill to be able to drum — i feel like that would be so cool.

also, is it really me if i don't maim my oc? sorry esther i love u sm.

published: december 25, 2024
word count: 2.8k

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