Before
Ellison was particular about schedules. Timing. Id left him at the library, and hed instructed to pick him up at a quarter to seven. So I shifted my schedule around, made sure Russmy manager at the laundromatknew Id be leaving exactly at 7:30, and arrived like clockwork.
That was nearly an hour ago. Night filtered in through the broad library windows, and much of the overhead lighting around the outer edges of the library had already shut off, giving the main section of broad tables a spotlight feeling. Ellison was bent over a younger girls textbook, pointing at a section of text, his expression strained. Hed say sothing, and the girl would shake her head, and Ellison would cross his arms, lost in thought, before he spoke again. I recognized his body-language similar to instances where he was trying to figure out how to explain sothing to Iris.
Finally, the girl nodded, and I felt an internal sigh of relief.
She was the last of three similarly confounded middle-schoolers, all of whom Id watched Ellison help since arriving on schedule. Like the rest, she shut her book, shoved it in her backpack, gave Ellison a weapons-grade nuclear smile and left with a hop in her step, passing by on her way to the exit without so much as a glance or a look back.
Ellison, alternatively, looked rumpled and fatigued. He gathered his things in an uncharacteristically unhurried fashion and nearly ran into .
Study group? I asked.
Ellison blinked several tis before his bleary eyes fully focused on . Oh, hey. What ti is it?
Nearly nine.
From his aghast expression, I might as well have told him the sky was yellow.
Well shit. Ellison finally said. Then, after he had a second to think about it. Didnt ss anything up for you, did I?
No. I lied. I had a helpline gig lined up for after I took him ho, but it paid little and wasnt ti sensitive.
How long were you waiting?
I shrugged. Not too long. Got caught up at Maples.
Ellison half-nodded, hooded eyes squinting at the clock on the wall as if he couldnt quite bring himself to believe it was really that late. Sorry.
No worries.
We started towards the exit, earning several irritated looks from the few remaining evening staff who were probably hoping to leave early. I passed him a bottle of water and pulled a tiny container of Tylenol from my bag, shook it at him. Ellison took it quickly, unscrewed the cap and poured two into his hand, then downed them, draining almost half the bottle. Afterwards, he shot a suspicious look.
How the hell do you always know? He asked.
Im your brother. Its my job to know things.
Pretty sure most brothers arent psychic. Ellison grumbled.
I shrugged. The good ones are.
We walked in silence for a while. From the number of screwed up expressions Ellison was cycling through, I could tell he needed to talk about sothing. But trying to pry it out of him never worked. So I let him stew as we traveled through the library double-doors and approached the bike rack. I pulled my keyring from my jean pocket and undid the chain lock, grabbing the handlebars and hefting the front wheel of my bike free from the rack.
I raised a questioning eyebrow. Ride? Or hoof it?
Lets walk for now, Ellison said, at least until the Tylenol kicks in.
Itd take us longer to get ho on foot, but that was fine. I wheeled my bike alongside us and pulled my burner from my pocket, flipping it open and shooting a quick text to my helpline client, letting them know there was a blip and I needed to reschedule. A response ca almost imdiately, but I didnt look at it. The library was on the edge of a decent area of town, but the closer we grew to ho, the more alert we needed to be.
We passed a small group of holess n lounging at the mouth of an alley, one of whom was familiar.
Hey Greg. I waved.
Hi Greg. Ellison parroted.
Lo boys. Greg grinned a wide and gap-toothed smile. He was looking better now that sumr was over and wed moved more deeply into the autumn months, and his tomato red complexion had faded to a warm scarlet. Hows the static this evening?
Translation: Any cops around?
Pretty clear, I said. Then peered deeper into the alley and frowned. Theyd done a good job obscuring their various hodgepodge sleeping accommodations, but Gregs eternally overfull cart was sticking out a little, along with a sleeping-bag housed within a cardboard box. May want to drag that dumpster over a bit.
Greg turned to study the alley, imdiately saw the issue. Golden, golden. Good lookin out. Preciate you both.
Have a good night.
Once we were out of earshot, Ellison finally boiled over.
I know its stupid, he said.
I played dumb. Whats stupid?
My brother sighed. The study group. Youve told at least half a dozen tis that the best way to study is by yourself.
I made a show of considering that and tried to co up with the best way to respond. Things were so much easier between us when I could be direct with him, but those days were long since over. How many tis a week are you eting?
Once.
And how many people? I asked, though I didnt need to. Unless a large contingent had left before I arrived, there were five other kids.
Six in total. Ellison confird.
And they spent most of the ti studying? Not chatting or goofing around?
We didnt even have ti to chat, Ellisons voice rose, and he ranted. Theyre all so fucking behind. All the teachers care about is getting us ready for the standardized shit, so that gets all the attention in class, and they expect us to study for the other tests entirely on our own.
I resisted the urge to get into a drawn out venting session about the public school system, because while he wasnt wrong, that also wasnt the core of his problem.
Ah. I said.
Ah what, head ass? Ellison gave a small shove. Co on. I know you have an opinion, you always do. Why cant you just give it to straight like you did to Greg?
Because Gregs happy to take all the help he can get.
I blew out air. Do I believe the best way to study is on your own? Yes. Do I also understand that solo-study can get monotonous as hell and an occasional change of format can help you refresh, and that infrequently teaching soone else the material grants a differing insight that helps you understand it better? Also yes.
Oh, Ellison said.
I swatted him lightly across the top of his head, mussing his hair. My brother recoiled and toyed with his bangs, scowling until they fell back into their usual place.
Obviously, I get it. So curb the attitude and stop acting like Im out to get you. I nearly said more, but didnt want to push my luck. Instead, I took the indirect route. My opinion doesnt matter. What matters is that despite going to the efforts of organizing this on the down low and having a seemingly successful session, you seem less than happy with the results.
Because it sucked! Ellison shouted. He quickly brought his volu under control, but the irritation remained. I didnt mind teaching at first. Like you said, it reinforced things, helped internalize them. But then I had to do it again, and again. And now my head hurts and I just feel drained.
How many kids in the group are further ahead in their studies than you? I asked, careful to circumvent the word smart.
Ellison stared down at the sidewalk as we walked, lost in thought. None of them, I guess. Dias pretty quick, but shes gifted and doesnt really spend that much ti studyingCo to think of it, most of the smart kids wouldnt be the first to sign up for a study group.
There you go.
Mmm. I answered noncommittally.
And its not like I know everything. Itd be a pain to get them there, but even if I only snagged one or two, I wouldnt constantly be playing unpaid substitute and thered be soone to teach for a change Ellisons eyes narrowed, and he glared at suspiciously. That was so Socratic, bamboozling bullshit.
No idea what youre talking about.
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