Chapter Ten

"Are you okay?" Orina asked, once the kids had left and the rugs were put away.

"Yes yes, my hand feels much better," Elgin replied. He stood at the window and waved to the small, retreating herd of raincoats and umbrellas. A few turned around at times to wave back, but most continued to trudge through the mud and stamp through the puddles.

"I'm glad, but... that's not what I meant," she said with a sigh. "What did Lucas say?"

"Just that Genesis would get Contaminated if she kept hugging you. I don't think he realized that I could hear him," he said. "It's a good thing I did, though, or else she would've sent him through the floor."

"Yeah..." Orina sighed again when Elgin walked back to the desk.

"Orina, what's wrong?" he asked her.

"I guess I didn't realize the kids knew," she mumbled. "And it's my fault you had to talk about it in front of all of them."

"Oh, Orina... it's okay, it really is," Elgin said gently. "This is nothing new: it's something I talk about on the first day of school every year and whenever there's a new student or what Mr. Clifton calls a flap-up. Talking to them today didn't upset me at all."

Orina nodded, frowning. Elgin put his hand on her arm.

"Seeing you upset, though... that has me all tied up in knots," he continued as he rubbed her arm. "I know you want to help, but you can't fix this, Orina. It's been a part of Mystic society for a very long time. Maybe it wasn't an issue in Zeal, but it is now and... I'm used to it. Most of the little kids don't say it to hurt my feelings and most of the time it's directed at each other. It's just the strongest insult they know and the worst thing to be."

"Oh." Orina placed her hands on her stomach.

"Would it help if I told you that I once got in trouble for calling my brother Contaminated?"

"Did you know what it meant?"

"Yes and no. I knew it was something terrible, but I didn't associate what I called Harvel with the nice old couple that owned the bookstore. I liked Mr. Brannon and Ms. Anfisa and, at that moment, I hated my brother. When I got in trouble for it, Dad just yelled at me... but Mom made me apologize to them the next time we went to their store, and tell them what I said and why I said it. I never used it as an insult again."

"Your mom sounds like a good person."

"Yeah, she was." Elgin took his hand from her arm and tentatively placed it on her stomach. She moved her hands to hold it there. "Medina won't be an easy place for the baby, you know."

Orina took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she tried to figure out what to say. Truthfully, she had no other options: none of her skills as a magician or swordswoman were needed in this time and she had neither money for food or shelter nor proof of citizenship for employment. And it wasn't like things would be any easier outside of Medina, either: she was human, sure, but the baby wasn't -- at least not fully -- and she doubted human children would be any nicer about that than Mystic ones. Decamerone rarely talked about his childhood, but what he had told her had sounded sad and very, very lonely.

"Please don't think I'm trying to throw you out! I'm not! I already told you that you're welcome to stay as long as you want and I meant every word of that! Really! It's just that... if it ever gets too bad here, I won't stop you and the baby from leaving if you have to," Elgin said. "I'd miss you both terribly, though."

"Thanks, Elgin," Orina said. She smiled at him.

"You're welcome," he said quietly before clearing his throat. "Well! I still have to move the tables and finish getting the classroom ready. We should probably eat before --"

Orina's stomach growled. Her smile became a grin. "Before that?" she asked and he laughed. She took her hands away from it and Elgin gave it a pat before he removed his hand as well.

"Yes, yes. Here, let me get that -- there!" Elgin reached for the briefcase on the desktop and pulled it forward before opening it up. He took Genesis's drawing out and looked at it, then pushed his glasses up on his beak to look at Orina.

"I think it's cute," Orina told him. "Genesis thinks we're both very nice and she's seen how I hold your arm when we walk. I told her you liked her picture, by the way."

He nodded. "It's what inspired that homework assignment, actually. I'll put it away in the filing cabinet after lunch."

"You'd better not," Orina said as she took the lunchbag and the rest of the graded papers out of the briefcase. "Genesis put a lot of work into drawing all those hearts. I want to take it home and frame it."

"Oh? Er... really?"

"Yeah." She paused. "Is that okay? If not, sure, put it in the fi--"

"Of course it's okay! I, uh, was just... um, I guess I was surprised, that's all." Elgin looked back at the picture. "You really do like it?"

Is there something you're not telling me? Orina wondered. "Yeah, I really do. I think it'd look nice on the dresser or by the bed."

"Oh, yes, it would." Elgin set the drawing into the briefcase, then snapped it shut. He chuckled when Orina handed him a sandwich. "Thank you, Orina. I don't have any frames at the house that would fit it -- we'll have to get you one after work."

"In Truce?" Orina asked with a frown. She looked out the window as she unwrapped her own sandwich, then took a bite. The skimmer ride had been bad enough on a clear day and she didn't exactly relish the idea of travelling in a metal box during a storm, especially over the water. And, while the rain had slowed a bit, it was still far from pleasant.

"Possibly," he replied. "Not necessarily, though. It's up to you. Think it over during class, then let me know."

The rain slowed even more by the time the afternoon class arrived, though Orina noted with distaste that they made an even bigger mess of the entryway than the little kids had. Several of the students tracked muddy newspapers through the classroom -- some kicking the papers along as they went -- and others took advantage of the resulting gaps in coverage to leave sloppy trails on their way to their seats.

"Oh. She's back. Greeeaaaaat," Patience said to one of her friends as she slithered by the desk. Unlike the others, the Naga-ette took care to not track anything in. She even picked up some of the papers in her path and deposited them in the trash can. "I thought we got rid of her."

"Yeah, it sucks," her friend -- a Hench named Casey, whose searingly-bright yellow dress had a short, flouncy skirt -- agreed.

Orina watched as Casey took a seat among Jade's flunkies at the front table. One of the flunkies opened Casey's textbook for her and another sprang up to sharpen her pencil. Patience looked stung by the coup, but silently made her way to the table closest to the supply cabinet. She set her backpack on the stool next to her, and hissed at Ruel when he tried to knock it over on his way by.

The subject of the day was math, which had always been Orina's least favorite when she was a student. She already knew she wouldn't like it any better as a teaching assistant, and was torn between staring out the window in boredom or feigning interest. She propped her head up and watched as Elgin wrote an equation out on the board, her brow creasing as he included letters and strange, squiggly symbols among the familiar numbers. The convoluted mess obviously made perfect sense to him, though Orina struggled to follow as he walked the class through its solution. She smiled at him when he looked her way, and cursed herself for not choosing the window instead.

The lesson dragged on and there were times when Orina was half-afraid that Elgin would call on her instead of one of the students. He apparently loved everything to do with numbers; he hummed as he wrote on the board and even spent what felt like an hour encouraging the class to call out numbers and letters and invent equations to stump him with. Some of the students played along and used their counting machines to check his work, but the confusion written on the others' faces made her wonder if this game was something they'd never seen before. It was certainly unlike anything she'd ever seen -- though watching the Gurus work came close -- and it left her feeling stupid and bewildered.

"Don't forget: your research papers are due tomorrow! It doesn't matter if they're hand-written or printed, but they need to be on my desk at the beginning of class!" Elgin told the students once the lesson finally ended. He nodded along to their grumbling and muttered commentary as they gathered up their books and waved to them once they left the classroom. "Well! What'd you think of class today?"

Orina shrugged. She knew she'd hurt his feelings if she told the truth, but she didn't want to lie to him, either.

"It was nice without Jade, I thought," Elgin continued. He bent to pick up the rest of the papers by the entryway and Orina swiveled her chair to look at the numbers that still remained on the chalkboard. His handwriting was far neater than her own math instructor's had been, though it made even less sense. "And Patience was glad to see you." He paused. "The rain's stopped, too, so there's that."

"Yeah." Orina turned her chair back around once she heard the papers hit the trash can and looked up at Elgin, who stood by the desk. His comments had sidestepped every aspect of the lesson itself and she wondered if he was waiting for her to address it. "Those counting machines didn't exist in Zeal. All I had was an abacus, and most times my instructor would take that away."

"Oh, right right! I wish you'd said something earlier about that -- it completely slipped my mind! There's some calculators on the top shelf of the supply cabinet. They're all old, but they still work! If I'd been thinking, I would have given you one of those before class started... I can put one in the desk now, if you want? In case you get bored?"

Orina stared at him, dumbfounded, but he'd already hurried over to the supply cabinet. She hoped her smile didn't look too much like a grimace when he came back carrying a blocky-looking calculator and set it down on the desk. "Um, thanks."

"No problem! This is the one the students fight over -- it's got a button for fractions, see? It used to have a spindle for paper, too, but that broke off years ago and it works just fine without it." Elgin clicked it on and a zero shone bright reddish-orange on the black display. "It really glows, so it's good in any light. It does eat up power cells if you don't switch it off afterwards, though." He cheerfully demonstrated the calculator's functions, then pointed out the switch before handing it to Orina. "It's probably for the best this goes and lives in the desk. I use it myself when I'm tired or not feeling well and I'd hate for anything to happen to it."

Orina politely tapped at a few of the keys, then poked at the much-vaunted fraction function before turning the calculator off and putting it away in the desk drawer. It was certainly faster than the abacus, and much quieter. She hoped it wouldn't be necessary. "Do you often play number games with the class?"

"No, that was... uh, just me getting carried away, I guess," Elgin said. "I started out meaning to show them just how varied of problems can be solved using the same formula, and ended up --" He shrugged, then pushed his glasses up. "When I looked at you, I couldn't tell if you were amazed or horrified."

"Elgin, don't take this the wrong way, but..." Honestly? That was some of the most baffling crap I've ever seen or heard in my life and I've never felt so stupid before. "I hate math," Orina said. She touched his arm when he looked away with an embarrassed-sounding cough. "I was impressed, though. You're very smart."

"Thank you, Orina," Elgin said shyly. He looked away again and Orina followed his gaze to the tables, the muddy floor, and finally to Lorca lurking at the connecting door's window. She was wearing a jacket over her dress, but didn't seem in any hurry to leave before they did. His shoulders sagged.