"University Mishaps"

“University mishaps”

         My second time on the train was better than my first.  Unlike when I went to London to find my mother, there was no policeman chasing me, I did not hide on a shelf, and I went to the toilet before I got on the train.  This time, Mother was with me and we were going to take a tour of the university.  I did math to help get through the ride.  Halfway through, though, I started to get restless.  I needed to walk around, so Mother got up with me and we visited the other cars that were conjoined with ours, but we got separated as we walked into the second car.  I accidentally bumped into a man in a yellow France tee-shirt in the confusion and shrieked because I dislike touching others, and the color yellow, and I hate France.  The woman next to him laughed at me.  She had a deep, throaty laugh, like the sound Wellington used to make just before he would throw up.  It made me uneasy.  I wanted the train to stop, so I started yelling louder and louder for Mother.  Finally, she came and found me and took me back to where our seats were.  For the rest of the ride, I counted the squares on the fabric covering the seats, tried not to notice the small space I was in, and watched as Mother read her magazine, “The Earth Spins Like a Bowling Ball.” 

         One hour and twenty-five minutes and seventeen seconds later, we got off the train.  I was relieved because the man in yellow stayed on and did not get off at the same stop as us.  Also, I was not in a small space and outside, there were no strangers touching me, or train toilets. 

         Mother and I walked had to walk two miles to get to the university which I calculated would take us twenty minutes.  Along the way I was overwhelmed by the sight of London.  It was so big and different than Swindon, and I wanted to press my head against the grass and groan.  But we were going to university so I just ran through prime numbers in my mind. 

         Ten and a half minutes later, Mother saw a jewelry store that she wanted to go in.  I refused to go in because I do not like jewelry stores.  They always have signs that say, “Low prices on two kt gold necklaces,” or, “Sale today and today only.”  Neither of these makes sense because $175.00 is not a low price, and there are sales every day.  Also, the salespeople smile at you in a way that does not mean happy.  And those are the reasons why I stayed outside of the store when Mother went to purchase earrings. 

         Immediately, I wished I had gone in.  There were weird people walking around outside.  A dark alleyway across the street from the store had an eerie, surreal quality to it, like when you go to a different city and your favorite television program comes on at 7:00 instead of 7:30.  I closed my eyes tight until Mother came back out.

         “Christopher,” she said, “Did you get into any trouble while I was in the store?”

         “No.”

         She shook her head.  “I think it would be a good idea for you to stay with me for the rest of the trip.”

         “But I didn’t do anything wrong.”

         “Christopher, I’m not going to argue.  Now let’s hurry.  We have ten minutes until the tour starts.  We don’t want to be late.”

         So we finished walking to the university.  I was not sure what to expect so I was a little nervous.  Siobhan says when people are nervous they look like this



But I do not like the look of that expression.  It reminds me of the alleyway.  So I changed my mouth to look like this



         By the time we reached the university, though, my expression looked like this



Which I know means I have just seen something I did not want to see and now I am blocking it out of my mind.  The reason for this is because on the side of another dark alley there had been a child.  Father would have described him as being “as lame as a duck.  Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a landmine or something.”  Once, he tried to explain it to me but because at the time I only knew one meaning for the word lame, I did not understand.  Now I do, though.

         We walked up the path to the front entrance.  The university was grand and very fancy.  I was unsure if I would feel comfortable inside of it.  There was a lady waiting for us, along with ten other kids my age.

         “Today, you young scholars will be taking an in-depth tour of our extravagant school and comprehending what it means to be a student here.  We hope you select this university to be your study haven.  Enjoy the tour!”

         And then she went on to describe the university more.  She was a very smart lady, and she told us that she herself had gone to the schools before.  She spoke with wisdom that could only come from experience, like a man who lost a leg from taunting a shark, and who now goes around giving speeches about the dangers of taunting a shark. 

         I was doing just fine until we started going on the actual tour.  That’s when the boy to my right turned to face me.

         “Why are you so quiet?”

         I don’t talk to strangers, I thought to myself.

         “Are you stupid?”

         No I passed my A-level math test.

         “Hey, dumbo.  Only smart kids can come to this school.”  He said this very loudly and I wanted to hit him, but I knew better.  And Mother heard him say it, which caused her to start yelling.

         “I’ll bet he’s three times as smart as you!  He got an A grade on his A-level math test, solved a murder mystery, AND ran away from his home all by himself.  So.  Be.  QUIET!”

         The other parents and children turned to look at us.  The wise lady quietly came up to Mother and calmed her down. 

         “Mrs. Boone, I’m sorry this isn’t working.  Maybe this isn’t the school for Christopher.  But I’ll be happy to recommend other ones in the area.”

         Mother looked at me with tears in her eyes and a red face and whispered that we were going home.  I thought about arguing but the look on her face was too confusing for me to read properly and I did not want to screw up in front of the wise lady and the other kids.  So I followed her back out through the front entrance.

         “I’m sorry, Christopher.  That boy . . . just. . .he shouldn’t say things like that to you.  It’s disrespectful.  I’m not a very level-headed person, you know that.  I just couldn’t let him put you down like that.”

         Long ago, Mother had explained what it meant to put a person down and it was not a good thing.  I decided if a person was mean like that, I did not want to go to university with them. 

         “Okay,” I replied.

         “Christopher, we can find you another school.  It’s not the end of the world.  The Earth will keep spinning.”

         “Okay,” I said again. 

         As we walked back to the train station, I finished her sentence:  Like a bowling ball.