Flashback Circa 1975
Flashback
“Alexei is a… very passionate boy, I will say that. But–...” The teacher found it hard to find the words that would deliver the soft-as-possible blow, which bothered Cassius more than it should have.
“Statistically, the students that attend this school are very unlikely to finish high school, let alone consider college. And I simply do not find Alexei overcoming that outcome.”
Well, that was one way of putting it.
Cassius readjusted himself in the small seat facing the equally small desk and ran a hand over his hair before letting out an audible breath. "I’m sorry, ma’am, but I don’t seem to understand. Alexei is still young, and above class average.”
The old and worn-out teacher nodded along, her greying hair tied back in a simple low bun that reminded him of a governess.
“I am very well aware of that fact, but grades are not everything. If Alexei can get an A in English and then spend recess fist-fighting with the older boys, sooner or later one action will out-influence the other.” She sighed almost regrettably at her own words.
“Listen, this isn’t anything against Alexei.
But this school can only do so much when the neighbourhood and homes these children grow up in have a greater hold on them. ”
Cassius didn’t like it, but he understood, forcing himself to swallow that hard pill.
The office was dull, only a fraction of life brought forth by the children’s drawings decorating the walls.
He wondered if any of those students had followed the life she expected of Alexei.
Perhaps it was like losing your own child.
Raising them like your own, only to find them years later robbing the grocery store when shopping for milk.
It must hurt every day, and maybe that’s why she seems too dry of hope now to find any optimism.
He didn’t blame her, not really, not when Alexei’s parents couldn’t even show up for this meeting.
Cassius almost had a stroke when Alexei asked this of him. Claiming that they’ll take him away if his parents miss one more meeting. So, the story of Alexei’s distant cousin came to be.
There was a lot that Cassius would never understand about Alexei’s life, no matter how long he lived. He never had to fear institutions like CPS knocking on his door, or whether it was safe to walk down the street to the corner store late at night.
Days later, perhaps a week, Alexei’s teacher’s words rang true when the young boy arrived at his doorstep with cuts and bruises, blood dripping onto his porch.
It drove Cassius into a panic he hadn’t known was possible, and it took him a long time to stop his hand from shaking to place the warm washcloth against the boy’s bloodstained cheek.
When he calmed himself, humiliatingly so, considering Alexei didn’t seem as bothered by his own state at all, he led him to the bathroom and waited for Alexei to finish his shower.
It was silent, save for the running of water. And then that stopped too. The bathroom door opened, and footsteps approached. From the couch, Cassius watched as Alexei went to join him with his eyes downcast.
“Want to tell me what happened?”
He could feel Alexei shrug. He was beginning to do that a lot. “Just–some guys messing around.”
“Don’t lie to me, Alexei.”
“I’m not–” He fell silent when Cassius’ gaze met his. “I’m… not lying.”
The last words came out as frail whispers.
Slowly, tears collected in the corner of his eyes before leaking down his cheeks.
Silent cries turned into sobs, and Cassius could only pull him forward into an embrace, offering just as much comfort to the boy as he was to himself.
Blurriness filled his vision as he rubbed his back in a soothing rhythm. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”
Cassius believed that he was beyond articulate, but sitting there, at that moment, he couldn’t find the proper words.
Later that evening, when Alexei had refused to spend the night in Cassius’ guest bedroom, too prideful, or perhaps reluctant to allow himself being granted anything more than emotional support, Cassius found that it was a quiet night.
The spring breeze blew through the cracked balcony doors, and despite the soothing scene, Cassius couldn’t find sleep.
Something was keeping him up, and he briefly contemplated calling Bow for a quick check-up.
He shifted on his back and stared up at the ceiling for only a second before the foreboding feeling growing inside him found its reason.
The doorbell rang once, almost ominously. The single echo sounding throughout the empty house. By the time Cassius made it to the door, checking the clock on his way–it was a little after midnight–he forwent turning on the porch light, and swung the door open.
There, standing in the dark, like a creature of the night, was his old friend from across the world in nothing but an impeccable suit hidden under a dark trenchcoat, and a leather briefcase.
Cassius didn’t speak, didn’t believe his eyes, his breath caught in his throat at the sight in front of him. Wind, however, found the next words quite easily as his eyes lazily roamed over Cassius’ appearance. “You’ve let yourself go.”
The man in question felt a rush of emotions the longer he stared at the shocking surprise that was his friend, standing on his porch in the dead of night.
“Are you going to let me in, or shall I return home to lick my wounds?”
At the mention of his friend leaving, Cassius surged forward and pulled Wind into a bone-crushing hug.