Somebody had it out for Lukas. He suspected Mister Oxenstierna.
Firstly, he’d ambled directly into their lives. Married, father of two, snatching him out of his cozy little Norwegian home by the sea and whisking him off to this reject from hell. Now he was keeping secrets and handling them with the delicacy of a drunken ogre.
According to Norse mythology, a crowing cock from Hel would rise and signify the end of the world. There was a very lewd parallel Lukas could draw here, but he was far too mature for that. Unfortunately, his apocalyptic rooster was not loudly broadcasting the impending doom, but whispering it.
He’d seen his mother and her new husband sitting at the breakfast nook, bent over steaming coffee cups and whispering. Behind their hands, leaning into each other, eyes glancing about for a wayward maid or Lukas. Whatever the clandestine information, they couldn’t expect that Lukas didn’t notice.
His mother was never good at telling him things. She’d usually make a nice breakfast, deposit herself across from him and dally around the subject for a bit. Lip licking and humming and random questions about his schooling. As of yet, very little had been said. So he just let them have their moments of planning, pretended to know nothing of it. He liked to see how long it would take Mister Oxenstierna on his own. No prodding, no pulling, no pushing.
The best experiments, of course, had a controlled variable.
So at some point, they realized that they couldn’t put it off forever. Lukas had to give them credit for that reasoning. Mister Oxenstierna had offered to drive him to school, and Lukas knew in that moment that he’d be let out of the dark. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved, terrified, or furious that it took so fucking long.
Settling for all three, he strapped himself into the front seat before being relegated to the back. Lukas hadn’t even noticed himself grumbling “Mathias let me sit in the front.”
“Mathias?” Mister Oxenstierna asked, frowning in thought. “Oh yeah, he got you that time. Well, he shouldn’t do that. He’s a bad example.”
“He’s not my example.” Lukas insisted. He slid in amongst crumpled napkins, racing forms, and every pen ever manufactured. How was this car even grosser than Mathias’?
Lukas kept silent the entire ride, staring out the window whilst the hockey game recap played on the radio. If Mister Oxenstierna was going to tell him the big secret, he should hurry up. The ride was only about eight minutes and it had been five already. But Lukas wasn’t going to ask. Instead, he feigned interest in one of the racing forms. He wondered if he’d ever be allowed to go to the track- he was certain that children were allowed. Maybe it’d stink to high heaven of horseshit and flat beer and nacho burps, but at least it’d be somewhere to go.
And there was the cemetery. They were so near and yet so far. Mister Oxenstierna still hadn’t said a word, and Lukas’ voice was on the verge of betraying him. Was it news so horrible that he couldn’t bring himself to say it? Was Mathias right, was his mother actually really sick?
She hadn’t gone back to the doctor since that appointment- surely if it were something fatal, she would have had at least one other checkup.
They had pulled up to the school at this point. Students were milling about, teachers were calling for order, and Lukas completely lapsed.
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Re: Untitled, Part 4/? C
(Anonymous) 2012-02-08 09:48 pm (UTC)(link)Firstly, he’d ambled directly into their lives. Married, father of two, snatching him out of his cozy little Norwegian home by the sea and whisking him off to this reject from hell. Now he was keeping secrets and handling them with the delicacy of a drunken ogre.
According to Norse mythology, a crowing cock from Hel would rise and signify the end of the world. There was a very lewd parallel Lukas could draw here, but he was far too mature for that. Unfortunately, his apocalyptic rooster was not loudly broadcasting the impending doom, but whispering it.
He’d seen his mother and her new husband sitting at the breakfast nook, bent over steaming coffee cups and whispering. Behind their hands, leaning into each other, eyes glancing about for a wayward maid or Lukas. Whatever the clandestine information, they couldn’t expect that Lukas didn’t notice.
His mother was never good at telling him things. She’d usually make a nice breakfast, deposit herself across from him and dally around the subject for a bit. Lip licking and humming and random questions about his schooling. As of yet, very little had been said. So he just let them have their moments of planning, pretended to know nothing of it. He liked to see how long it would take Mister Oxenstierna on his own. No prodding, no pulling, no pushing.
The best experiments, of course, had a controlled variable.
So at some point, they realized that they couldn’t put it off forever. Lukas had to give them credit for that reasoning. Mister Oxenstierna had offered to drive him to school, and Lukas knew in that moment that he’d be let out of the dark. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved, terrified, or furious that it took so fucking long.
Settling for all three, he strapped himself into the front seat before being relegated to the back. Lukas hadn’t even noticed himself grumbling “Mathias let me sit in the front.”
“Mathias?” Mister Oxenstierna asked, frowning in thought. “Oh yeah, he got you that time. Well, he shouldn’t do that. He’s a bad example.”
“He’s not my example.” Lukas insisted. He slid in amongst crumpled napkins, racing forms, and every pen ever manufactured. How was this car even grosser than Mathias’?
Lukas kept silent the entire ride, staring out the window whilst the hockey game recap played on the radio. If Mister Oxenstierna was going to tell him the big secret, he should hurry up. The ride was only about eight minutes and it had been five already. But Lukas wasn’t going to ask. Instead, he feigned interest in one of the racing forms. He wondered if he’d ever be allowed to go to the track- he was certain that children were allowed. Maybe it’d stink to high heaven of horseshit and flat beer and nacho burps, but at least it’d be somewhere to go.
And there was the cemetery. They were so near and yet so far. Mister Oxenstierna still hadn’t said a word, and Lukas’ voice was on the verge of betraying him. Was it news so horrible that he couldn’t bring himself to say it? Was Mathias right, was his mother actually really sick?
She hadn’t gone back to the doctor since that appointment- surely if it were something fatal, she would have had at least one other checkup.
They had pulled up to the school at this point. Students were milling about, teachers were calling for order, and Lukas completely lapsed.