Ardent Cure: Lennox and Mielo

Chapter 2 -

 

1

Mielo walked home with a tired look, though under the veil of his impassive idiom was a smile. He was glad that his day went smoother than he anticipated. He was so sure at least one of the teachers would give him trouble, yet they all seemed tolerant and well natured … or maybe they were just trying to give the boy a good impression of the school. He could never be sure. People always wore masks; there was always a dark side to everyone. He knew every single one of his teachers had one, and he already guessed correctly who, of the five he met that day, held the most secrets. The insane English teacher with the obnoxious teaching habits that either frightened or awed the students, and Mielo was auspiciously chosen to have a front row seat every day. He noticed the man staring at him frequently, more than the other teachers. Was Lennox one of those who were obsessed with the Germanic culture? He doubted it, the old man didn’t seem to give off the same annoying energy that was emitting from their probing nature.

Finally, he reached home, humming thoughtfully to himself at the way it looked. For something he called home, Mielo wished it didn’t have to present itself in such a menacing manner. He didn’t even want to step up to the door, as if it was a baleful beast ready to swallow him whole. Funny, he felt the exact same way about school earlier, and yet now he wished he hadn’t left the building. Then Mielo remembered, his father wasn’t home; the entire reason for this trip was because his father was transferred to a shotgun company called Perish Arms. They are apparently the most bought weapon in the states since the break out. Mielo wasn’t even sure what the breakout was, but apparently there was a disease that turned people into human masticating monsters. The boy felt lucky he hadn’t run into any yet, but his father had gotten them their own shotgun just in case.

So, knowing that the old bastard was gone, Mielo suddenly felt his body become lighter, as though  he had just shed a boulder from his back.

            “Thank fuck,” the boy muttered as he reached into his pockets and grabbed his keys, gingerly nevertheless.

“I heard you missed your first three classes.”

Mielo dropped his keys as soon as he opened the door. His father’s voice had startled him, and he scrambled to pick them up.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” the father asked as he strode heavily to his son.

“I thought you had work,” Mielo huffed quickly as he stood up and swiftly attempted to make his way to his room.

“I’m not fucking done talking,” the man growled, grabbing the back of his son’s shirt. “You’re not going to embarrass me here, you understand? We’re making a new life here!”

Mielo shuddered as he felt the hand upon his shirt, sure to be ruined by the iron grip that now shifted to the collar. Next thing he knew, there was a sharp blast of pain in his back and he hit the carpeted floor. Thank goodness it was plush, no expense was spared when Perish Arms furnished the house..

“I caught up,” the boy grunted under his father’s boot. “D-don’t worry about it.”

“Better not be fuckin’ lying to me,” Mr. Herz grumbled cantankerously as he pulled his son back to his feet by the locks atop his head. Mielo held his breath as he felt the throbbing pain form in his scalp at the yank. He shoved his father off of him, backed up defensively,  jerked around, and booked it to his room.

“That’s right! Just run and hide you goddamn fairy,” the echo of his father’s voice boomed through the thick wooden door.

2

If Lennox had any companion in the world that he could confide his dark secrets to, he would have been bantering all night on the matter. Unfortunately, he lacked such companionship and lived alone for many evenings, not even feeling comfortable writing such a thing on paper or in a virtual word document. He could keep no memories stored away in boxes or in kilobytes on a laptop, for he kept a strict policy to leave as little a trace as he possibly could. So his efficiently crafted cranium was the only storage unit in which he could house memories, laughs, pride, and mischievous schemes.

Thursday was the second day of the school year, and he marked it off the calendar by his door as he waited for Mielo by it. He craved to exercise his familiarity, to recognize the fair crown of hair that approached his academic abode, and to greet the face which would smile in response to his amiability. Lennox would relish in all these little things in the early stages of his mission until it wouldn’t be enough, if he could get them in the first place.

“Good morning, Milo Herz!” He chanted, sounding the sort to have just had three cups of coffee, “wake up on time today?” Mielo winced at the intentional mispronunciation of his name.

“Tag,” he replied flatly, looking up at Lennox with sullen sleepy eyes encircled in darkness to acknowledge his instructor, but gave no more. He walked off to his seat and sat down, expressionless and droopy.

Lennox furrowed his brow, what was this disgraceful lack of enthusiasm? In his class? It was obvious that Mielo hadn’t had much sleep, Lennox could smell it on the boy and hear it in his tired breathing. He sighed a low hum of concern, but didn’t make this visible for long, “Allan Anderson!” The tall man called out as a familiar student came to his attention.

“Mr. Lennox!” Allan remarked, slightly startled at being addressed so loudly.

“How are you? Get started on your reading yet?” Lennox chimed teasingly.

“I’m cool, Sir, and yeah,” the boy chuckled proudly, “I got through the whole thing in like ten minutes. It was no sweat, Sir.”

“Good!” The teacher puffed, “I’ll be expecting some feedback in our discussion tomorrow!” A smile spread across his face as things fell back to normalcy.

“Hey--” Allan turned to his left to look at the blond boy that sat at the desk in the front, “is that the exchange kid?”

“That he is,” Lennox nodded, trying his best to keep a straight indifferent face, “he doesn’t seem very lively this morning.”

“I’ll wake him up for you! He looks like he could use somebody to talk to.” Allan stood tall, eager to assimilate the new kid.

“You may try, but don’t expect much of him yet. He’s like a fish in a new tank with no time to acclimate to the water.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind … go! Do as you will! You still have three minutes before the bell rings!” Lennox tossed his hands up and went to his desk to feign innocence while he looked at Mielo, and perhaps Allan, learning about the German kid from his interaction with other students.

“Hey, Milo right?” Allan asked as he stole the seat next to the foreigner.

“Ist Mielo,” the boy corrected tiredly as he continued to rest his head on his arms. He shifted, however, so that his head was turned to look the other way.

Allan frowned and left his desk to  walk to the other side of where Mielo sat, befuddled that someone would ignore him so willingly.

“So how you liking it here?” he asked, lowering himself on his knees to be at eye-level with the boy.

“Ist gut,” the boy mumbled incoherently through his arms, then hid his face completely. Allan looked over at Lennox and shrugged his shoulders like the German boy was a lost cause, but continued to proceed on conversing with the kid.

“That’s cool, hey y’wanna hang out during lunch after class?” Allan asked, hoping the boy would look up at him with some glimmer of hope in his eyes. The boy only shrugged his shoulders, however, but Allan did not digress because of this. “Well, then I guess I’ll show you around after class; it’s settled.” And when the bell rang, the American grinned as he walked to his desk, uttering a small word as he sat down.

Lennox narrowed his eyes, his brow slightly furrowed as he cast a sideways glance at Allan. What was his game? He’s already a Mr. Popular Do-gooder with a rich family and slack teachers, why does he need to flaunt his benefits around the new kid so readily? The instructor’s heart grew hot with a fire prematurely lit by the flash of lightning in the form of a passing mumble. Cutie. Lennox cursed his unnatural ears for revealing to him things that he may not have ever been meant to know. He knew Allan was gay, he never had a boyfriend but he made no secret of it; this school was fairly tolerant of such matters.

“Oh …,” Lennox even startled himself, unaware that he’d spoken aloud as something occurred to him. Gay. Allan was gay, yes, but what about Mielo? If the boy wasn’t then would Lennox even have a chance with him? Would he be able to drive the boy to infatuation? He wished gay had a sound or a scent, then he would be able to tell, but alas! It was one of the few things that he could not sense with his unnatural ears and nose! A look at Mielo made Lennox think. The boy was very trim, it was the only adjective that came to his mind, he wore a button up and neat dress pants every day as if he was a business student in a university. His hair was cut short in the back and long in the front. Mielo seemed he could go either way. Lennox cursed, once again, the age that he lived in where men and boys were allowed to be clean without accusations of being curious. He attempted to concoct a test to figure this out as soon as possible; he would not tolerate being left in the dark any longer.

3

Mielo feared that the mending of his bad first impression was going to unravel before he could fix it once again. His father was stressed from work, since his English was quite the impairment, and his frustrations were dealt with at home upon his child. The boy tolerated it, though the abuse broke his routine of straight A’s and near-perfect attendance. He had ended up missing three days of English in only two weeks already, and he knew this was unacceptable. Mielo couldn’t really help it though, as much as he tried. His body hurt too much to walk to school, and he hated public transportation and refused to use any means of them.

He wasn’t surprised when Lennox approached him about this, due to the interest the man took in him at the very first day and the fact that this was just the way teachers behaved here. In fact, it was a surprise that only Lennox had approached him, though it wasn’t pleasant no matter how much Mielo had expected it. Thankfully enough, it was after the period was over, when everyone else had cleared out for lunch, so he wouldn’t be embarrassed in front of the class at the very least.

“Mielo,” the man called, pronouncing the boy’s name correctly for the first time. Mielo turned around, his neck too stiff for him to merely look over his shoulder, his body was covered in bruises that so far were concealed by clothing. He could see the serious look upon his teacher’s face, “may I speak with you for a moment?”

He didn’t want to, it would be too much, too embarrassing. It would only cause more trouble if Mielo’s father found out that a teacher disapproved of the way he treated his son. All it would be is a rant on how the school system tried to be too much like parents, that private school would have been better, that the law always gets in the way of good parenting, and then some more bruises.

“I understood ze reading,” Mielo tried to play it off as the usual post-class talk Lennox imposed on him concerning comprehension across the language barrier, “you do not need to explain ze allegory again.”

“That’s not what I’d like to talk about,” said the man with a sigh. He stood up and walked past Mielo, closing the heavy wooden door, trapping him.

“I’m sorry, I vill make up ze quiz I missed,” the blond now frowned and scratched the back of his head, still itchy from the yank his hair had sustained the morning prior. Why did this guy have to close the door? Sure Mielo didn’t want the world outside the classroom to hear, but nobody speeding down the halls and blabbing loudly with their friends even cared what happened inside classrooms, so why did the door have to be closed? The room wasn’t small by any means, it was comfortably wide and had a very high ceiling; but with no escape, Lennox made Mielo feel closed in even if they were in an open field.

“I know, you’re coming to extra help after dismissal today for that--”

“I’m sorry, Herr Lennox, I cannot stay for ze extra help, I must be home on time.” He looked up at the man, his eyes pleading, peering out from puffy dark circles that never seemed to go away.

“Why not?” the tall man asked, turning his head upward slightly and raising his eyebrows in suspicion. A shudder went through Mielo’s body as he perceived the scrutiny he was under.

“Mein Vat--I haff sings to do at home. Vater needs me to do sings for him zat cannot vait,” Mielo explained quickly, trying his best not to stutter over his words.

“Mielo,” Lennox began, sounding more like a father than Mielo’s father ever did, “you’ve already missed three days of school in the first two weeks, more in the classes before mine because you’re always in late! Your homework isn’t up to par with your past transcripts, and you’re falling asleep in class.” He paused and looked at the blond, who knew that this was an attempt to coax a confession out of him.

“Maybe I’m just a terrible student,” the boy hissed quietly. “Vhy don’t you mind your own business. I said I vill catch up, did I not? Ze year isn’t fucking over yet.” He instantly regretted what he’d said and the tone with which he said it, for a look of contempt formed on his instructors face. Mielo winced and prepared to be smacked upside the head, but realized how silly he was being. Teachers weren’t allowed to hit their students here, and Lennox wasn’t his father.

“I’m going to be forward with you,” the spectacled man began, “I’ve seen this before, I know you’re a bright student, and bright students don’t fall asleep in class and miss 40% of their course in the first two weeks. I am not obligated to report anything you tell me in confidence, that is the job of the counselors, but I put myself to this obligation.” He put a strong hand on Mielo’s shoulder, startling him a bit.

The boy shrugged it off instantly, and backed up. “I guess zat is your problem, zen.”  

“Listen, I like to think of myself as more than just an instructor to my students. If there is anything I can do to help you, and believe me, there is plenty I can do, all you have to do is tell me.” Lennox returned his hand to Mielo’s shoulder and he squeezed it. The boy was unable to shrug it off this time and found himself forced to stare at his teacher in the eye, “won’t you tell me then?”

The boy stared up at the man, not aware of the seconds flying by as he was deep in thought. He knew that he could probably get out of his situation-- either that, or he’d just make his home life even worse. Sometimes teachers only did half the job, they would try to talk to the parent, or file a complaint and have a social worker go there instead. After that, the parent would be infuriated that their child ratted them out, and harsher punishments would be the only result of this endeavor of the system. The German couldn’t risk it.

“No, I’m sorry. I’ve just been slacking. It’ll stop, I promise.” He half expected, again, to be hit, and at the very least he expected Lennox to get angry at his obvious lie. The man’s face softened, however, his eyebrows upturned and Mielo could feel an instant of complete empathy flash between them. But it was only an instant, and probably his imagination. Why did this crazy man care so much anyway? Lennox jumped upon his desk today and threw a paper ball at a student in the back of the room, a gesture that didn’t exactly make the guy out to be a compassionate creature.

Lennox removed his hand at long last, and opened the door to release Mielo, “if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

4

A couple weeks had passed and the school year was going quite normally. Lennox’s odd behavior surprised no one, as it was his reputation. Mielo still sensed the eyes pressing on him during every English class, however, but he questioned a few students kind enough to speak to him and they reassured the boy that it was just the nature of their teacher. Lennox was aware of this, as these conversations happened in or near his classroom, and within his uncanny earshot even though they were whispered and low tones. This interaction pleased him, but for all his eavesdropping he was still unable to figure out if Mielo was gay or not.

He’d made a habit out of keeping Mielo after class for five minutes to talk about the readings they did in class, for there were usually some culture references that Mielo didn’t understand. This would be an appropriate time for Lennox to try a very blunt test, it was fool-proof. He had them reading the ever famous Shakespearian sonnet 130 in class, and to Lennox’s great pleasure, Mielo was bewildered by it.

“But-- I still don’t understand! He ees calling her ugly vis her virey hair und her smelly breath!” The boy chided as he shook the copy of the poem with great frustration.

Lennox couldn’t help but chuckle, “but he’s saying, that in all of her traditionally undesirable traits, he sees beauty in her regardless.”

“Like vhat?” Mielo asked, “her personality or somesing?”

“Do you see any mention of her personality in here?” Lennox became blind to his grand scheme for a moment as he was in a full teacher mood, “all it is … is a description of her, and him saying that he sees beauty in her. He sees beauty in her wiry hair and everything.”

Mielo furrowed his brow and reread the sonnet quickly once again, “so vhat ist ze point? He sinks einen ugly voman is beautiful vis all her ugly traits?” He shook his head, “das ist es? Really?”

“Well--”

“Das ist stupid.”

Lennox blinked for a moment, a taken aback by Mielo’s failure to comprehend, he would have thought that a boy of such intellect and depth would be less … superficial. But then after a moment, he laughed, realizing how truly amusing and attractive this was, “hahaha! No it’s not! It’s elementary, they teach you this as youngsters. It just means he’s not shallow.” Lennox paused, a look of mischief saturated his mug, “interested in any ladies?”

“Nein,” the boy muttered simply, though a flush of red gave his coy away.

“What do you mean nein?” Lennox cocked an eyebrow, a smug grin on his face, “allow me to rephrase … are there any girls that you like? Any girls around here you find … attractive?” He thought how funny it would be if the boy was on to his little game, but he couldn’t rightfully justify it no matter how strong his suspicions were. This was honestly directly relevant to school work, it merely served a double purpose for Lennox.

“Vhy do you care? Girls are annoying,” the boy turned around with a stomp, wanting to leave. “You are einen Lehrer, einen English teacher, I vould sink you could read between ze lines, nein? You do eet as your job.”

Lennox’s face practically lit up, he loved it when Mielo became irate, his English became more broken and more adorable. He almost wanted to dwell on it, but he had intelligence to gather and relay to the devil in him, “boys then! Do you like boys? Work with me, Milo, I’m trying to make a point here!” He stood up and raised his arms theatrically.

“I already KNOW ze point!” the student barked, picking up his bag. “I got it, I just sink zat zis vas a vaste of time.” He sighed and began to head towards the door, then stopped before he opened it. “Danke for ze help, I guess.” And with that, the boy was off to the cafeteria to meet up with his recently acquainted friend, Allan.