Thomas and Jordan

A long short story

Chapter I

He willed his mouth to open. The young man hoped that someone else would say that which he would rather not. It was not in his nature to speak of logistics, far preferring to talk of emotions instead, or, if not emotions, of people. But he would not allow himself to leave without the woman sitting across from him explicitly spelling out the terms by which they were to operate. To this point, she had been more interested in the noodles that now sat at the bottom of the bowl in front of her, twirling them around her fork absentmindedly, letting them fall, then picking them back up again, all while talking on and on about nothing in particular. Evidently, 3 pm was her lunchtime. Though she had offered him some of the rather dubious looking noodles when he had first arrived, something had felt not quite right to him about the idea of eating at what was, he supposed, in some ways a business meeting, even if it was being conducted at her kitchen table.

Just as he had got his courage together to ask what his pay was to be, the boy returned. First, he heard the soft footsteps from the staircase, then saw the boy himself - returned after a moment away, after having been sent by his mother to fetch her water bottle from upstairs. Fortuna had explained that she tried to drink the entire volume of the hugely oversized bottle every day but that she simply would not finish it if it was not constantly beside her, so off the boy had been to find the bottle and return it to its rightful place by her side. Only he had returned without it. With a tone that suggested but somehow eluded apology, he said that he had not been able to find the water bottle. Without waiting for his mother to respond, the boy turned his gaze to the young man seated at the table opposite his mother, seeming completely at ease making eye contact with the man who was to be his tutor, that is, if the question of payment could ever be resolved. The boy was behaving permissibly, perhaps even politely, but Thomas thought, with an anticipatory exhaustion at the effort that it would require, that he might begin their lessons by teaching the boy to speak to his mother with a little more respect - especially after failing to honor what seemed an incredibly simple request.

When Fortuna had sent the boy out of the room, Thomas had thought it was so they might speak of the adult matter of pay, but the point of the diversion seemed only to have been to heap onto her son the praise that is usually not said in the company of children, for fear of overinflating their egos. Her characterization of his apparent exceptional qualities was glowing to the point of disbelief, a stream of compliments which she seemed unable to launch from her mouth quickly enough. This string of praise was broken only when she paused for a breath, glanced to the stairwell, and said in a wistful voice as she pointed with her index finger to her heart, “He’s gifted beyond belief, it’s true, but it’s hard to look past his condition.” It was not news to Thomas that the boy had some kind of health issues, though what specifically was the matter with him he was not sure. Regardless, Fortuna had been clear in her preliminary email in advance of their interview that any potential tutor for her son must also be sensitive to his condition. The full extent and nature of the condition was not clear to Thomas, yet he was confident enough that, at least in his role as a tutor, he could handle anything the boy might have to throw at him - within reason at least.

When Thomas had first arrived at the home that afternoon, the boy had been standing beside his mother in the entry hall - as if to size him up. Thomas had been expecting someone more delicate. He was thin and pale but did not look ill, and he carried himself with an intentionality that suggested intellect. Privately, Thomas was gladdened by the idea that he might teach a bright student rather than a dull one. Despite this, he thought also that the boy would likely never be considered good-looking, even in adulthood. Thomas thought himself to be a well-mannered, humble young man, not without intellect of his own, but he worried whether the young boy standing before him now might see him as an equal rather than as an instructor - or, worse still, that he might see him as an inferior. He thought, though, that in an economic situation such as his, where his undergraduate and masters’ degrees had yet to return on the considerable economic investments they had represented, he was in no position to be making demands. Fortuna stood from the table, a gesture which carried a finality suggesting that the meeting was over. Thomas was hired and he was to begin teaching the boy within the week, as previously discussed. Though he’d hoped not to discuss this matter in front of the boy, Thomas realized he had no choice but to broach the topic of his pay, or else it might never happen.

”Pardon me, it’s my fault completely, but I don’t think we’ve decided on what the compensation will be.”

With a laugh and a smile, she touched her hand to her chest and said, “Oh, the money! There’s no need to worry about that. We’ll take very good care of you. That I can promise you.”

To this, Thomas smiled and laughed as well. Out of nervous habit, he patted his pockets to make sure his wallet and keys were still inside, and prepared to leave. It was true he hadn’t gotten a definite number out of her, but he felt assured that there almost didn’t seem a need to force an answer. Only someone with lots of money would laugh when the question of money was brought up. He was sure of that.

The boy, who had been listening intently during the exchange about pay, chuckled dryly and exclaimed: “My, my. How thrilling to witness a negotiation up close.”

A faint smile opened across his face and he paced over to the window overlooking the street. To this preternaturally pensive show, Thomas thought that he could not imagine that other children much enjoyed the company of this shrewd, erudite child. Fortuna had mentioned in their first correspondence that the boy had not attended a conventional school in years, with his mother taking on the responsibility of homeschooling him. It was obvious that the boy had not spent much time around other children. 

 “I think you could have done a little better for yourself, Thomas, don’t you?” the boy continued, his eyes still fixed on the street, though nothing seemed to be happening.

”Now Jordan, Thomas and your father will discuss Thomas’ pay when he returns from New York on Monday. You know I’m not much of a negotiator myself. I’ll leave that to the men” Fortuna replied, sounding more amused than she looked.

”I hardly think we need to even call it a negotiation. That makes it sound so formal. We’re only paying for some tutoring, not trading companies. I expect it shouldn’t take long at all to arrive at a mutually satisfactory number,” Thomas replied.

”Perhaps you’re right,” Jordan said, “Only I feel I should tell you that you could basically ask for whatever figure you’d like and they’d give it to you without much fight. They have no qualms about parting with their money, you see.”

”Oh, where do you come up with this stuff? You’re so highly verbal,” Fortuna tittered, now a few steps away from her son. Jordan’s eyes lit up while his mouth stayed flat, then, moments later, his face was impassive again. He turned his eyes to Thomas, who had begun to think that there was more to this boy than what had met the eye. His nature was protean - shifting from one moment to the other. He couldn’t tell whether the boy enjoyed playing these characters or if they were all simply extensions of himself. Either way, it might prove fascinating to teach a student as precocious as this. Still, this young boy who was so fickle in his manner and so insistent in his beliefs might also prove a massively frustrating pupil to take on. Thomas was weary already.

”Come here,” Fortuna said, beckoning to her boy, who stood immobile by the window and showed no sides of caring to move either, “You must know better than to brag about money in front of strangers. It’s very impolite, and, besides that fact, it’s just not true. We’re not frivolous people-”

”I was not bragging. I merely wanted our guest to know what kind of home he was stepping into,” the boy interrupted. “This is a place of luxury.”

”Luxury! Ha!” Fortuna laughed indulgently. “Well, Thomas, I hope you’ve enjoyed our little show. You’ll come back next Monday and we can iron out all the details then, yes? I know Jordan is just chomping at the bit to get started with his studies, so we’ll just have to sort it out, I suppose.”

Jordan said nothing but nodded politely.

”And I suppose you’ve missed Kayla and Isabelle, but you’ll meet them too. I have a boy, my oldest, who isn’t around much. Anything but staying at home is better for a teenager. I’m sure you can remember those days, Thomas.”

”Maybe his grades would improve if he spent a little time at his desk,” Jordan interjected.

“Now, you know he has difficulty with learning. It’s not the same for him as it is for you,” Fortuna said to her son. “He’s actually very smart as well, it just manifests differently” she continued. This was offered to Thomas

“You’ve got quite a way with words,” Thomas said to Jordan.

”Yes, doesn’t he? We just love Jordan’s little witticisms,” Fortuna gushed.

Without acknowledging what his mother had just said, Jordan turned from her mother to Thomas and said, “Do you want to be my tutor?”

To this Thomas replied, “I’m committed to assisting your learning in any way I can.” He thought that his commitment was really to paying the rent on his studio apartment, which was his greatest financial burden - and his greatest source of pride. But he couldn’t say that the boy didn’t interest him as well. There was something about him that called to be figured out.

”Wonderful. Well I look forward to working with you,” said Jordan, and, with that, took his leave of the whole scene, walking from the window to the staircase, not turning back once as he scaled the steps. 

Thomas moved as if to call after him, unaccustomed to such abrupt endings, but Fortuna quickly drew him over to her. “You’ll get used to him. In fact, I think you’ll enjoy him,” she said. “What’s dealing with a little awkwardness when you’ve got such a brilliant mind in the family?” Thomas opened his mouth to speak, and, before he could reply, she continued, “Thought all my children are brilliant. That I’m sure of. Well, you’ll meet them all on Monday and I suppose you’ll judge yourself.”

Over that weekend, Thomas thought about what Fortuna had said. Was it true that anyone could ever “get used” to such an inscrutable boy, whose emotions seemed to be either deeply sublimated or nonexistent? What had Fortuna meant when she said he would enjoy him? Was this remark tailor-made for Thomas or was it simply something she said to everyone who met her unusual son? 

When he’d left the White’s house that day, before entering his car, he’d looked up from the street to the front-facing window on the second-floor. There was Jordan staring down at him. Thomas mustered a smile and waved up at the boy in the window.

Jordan stared for a moment, then gave a regal wave in return. He stepped away from the window.

Perhaps they would get along, after all, Thomas thought.

Chapter II

Come Monday, Thomas met the whole family, just as Fortuna had said he would. Over lunch, Thomas met Perry, Fortuna’s husband. He was immediately friendly, drawing Thomas into a hug from what had been intended as a handshake. He had a thick, full head of hair and his physique suggested that he might have once been fit. He had apparently once worked in global finance, though in what exact capacity he did not offer. It seemed that now he travelled a great deal for business, and his manner, while warm, was somehow uniquely international. His nature was easygoing. Thomas guessed that this was a man who took everything in stride.

Fortuna and Perry’s oldest son, Joshua, seemed to take after his father, with a jocular, open disposition that spelled out a future in business. The girls, whose names Thomas could not keep straight, were polite, if unmemorable, but were on the whole inoffensive. It also became clear to Thomas that, despite Fortuna’s put-together appearance at their first meeting, her colorful personal style was more of a harried “mish-mash” than it was eclectic or bohemian.

Perry was more than open to the conversation about Thomas’ pay and the matter was quickly resolved. Thomas had hoped to make the conversation as quick and painless as possible and was pleased that he seemed to have succeeded. The conversation between the two men went on for a while longer and Perry confided in Thomas that, though he travelled often for work, his family would always be at the center of his life. He saw the care of his children as his foremost duty in life, but besides that he wanted to know them deeply and intimately, more deeply than his parents had known him. He said his wife shared his philosophy and they prided themselves on being engaged parents. Going on, he made it clear to Thomas that though they were comfortable, he wanted his children to understand the value of money. Part of this plan involved keeping “the right sort of people” as company. He said he was a big believer in the importance of networking. He offered that his girls were not allowed unrestricted use of his credit card for shopping, and perhaps in the same vein, he said that though he wanted the very best for Jordan’s education, it was important as well to maintain a sense of fairness between his children. After all, he was the only child who was homeschooled, so the cost of this expense must remain sensible, all of which seemed sensible to Thomas. One of Perry’s greatest joys, he said, was witnessing the unfurling of his son’s intellect as it continued to blossom. Though he thought himself a man of culture, he had never expected to have a son who was so cultivated, and he was all the more glad for it.

So everything was settled and the lessons began. The lessons began at 9 am every weekday. Though the moment at the window after their first meeting had encouraged Thomas to think that he might be able to “get through” to Jordan given time, the boy had remained inscrutable and aloof. It was not only his elevated way of speaking, which was far removed from the standard vernacular of the day, much less a boy of ten, but his entire presence that eluded Thomas’ understanding. He seemed singular.

Looking back on the whole series of events now, Thomas’ entire entanglement with the White family seemed imbued with a certain fatalistic quality that had put him off as much as it had intrigued him. He had some of what might be called “evidence” - the initial emails from Fortuna, the birthday card Jordan had given him unexpectedly, the texts he had started to receive from the boy when everything had changed with the family - but the entire encounter felt unreal, somehow out of time. Except for Jordan, the Whites had never impressed him. He’d always sensed a specter of doom hanging above them, as if their haphazard lifestyle had no possibility but to end in disaster. Yet as he thought on the matter more, wasn’t it impressive that they’d kept him in their orbit for as long as they had, all things considered? The performance they had put on the first day at lunch, all of them working in tandem like players in a theater troupe, had been so perfectly imperfect as to make him suspect nothing was afoot, and, more than that, to convince Thomas to commit himself to their cause, as nebulous and ill-defined their particular cause had been. Thomas had spent so many years in what might be considered “polite society” that perhaps it was no wonder that he had been so susceptible to the charms of this family who were themselves so profoundly impolite. They amused him. Where he was sparing, they were indulgent, and, in a way, he felt that he could indulge himself by watching them. They were ill-advised, but harmless, or so he’d thought. That was then. Now he saw these judgments had been hasty, filling him up with the comfort of a preconceived notion.

Nevertheless, when he’d first began coming to the house, the whole thing had felt so exciting. For reasons he couldn’t understand, he felt that, by being around them, he might learn to experience life in a way that he had never been able. Rather than observing, like he did, they seemed only to act. Though he was at the house only during the day, departing before dinner, he had what seemed like a near-complete view into the functioning of their lives. Jordan took his lessons at the dining room table, which was never used for its intended purpose but was neglected for the family’s meals in favor of the kitchen counter. From Thomas’ vantage at the dining room, he learned that family always seemed to be running late - whether it was to a meeting or a doctors’ appointment or volleyball practice. In this house, nagging always seemed more like joking between friends, and though the children rarely obeyed, they seemed more than willing, eager even, to keep up the repartee. Fortuna was always receiving packages, whose contents Thomas was never quite able to ascertain, and, more often than not, the family seemed to order food delivery. Their kitchen was large but seldom used, except for the fridge which sat full of sugar-free sodas and canned teas, macronutrient-rich protein bars and full-fat cheese sticks, and tubs of hummus and baba ghanoush. They spoke often of the vacations they had taken together and seemed to know all the same TV shows and songs. They called nice restaurants “bougie”, even as they frequented them. To take all this in as an outsider was like a baptism for Thomas, an initiation into a world that was dazzling in its opulence as much as it was off-putting for that same extravagance. Fortuna had apparently worked at a gallery at some point, and had many friends still working in the art world, whom she did not hesitate to mention. Perry was away most of the time, but when he returned, he had the amazing ability to slot back into the rhythm of the home with what seemed like no effort at all. He took it in stride. Their vocabularies were unremarkable, as were their insights, but, for Thomas, it was like learning a new language. It was not the content of their speech that struck him but the ease with which they spoke. Here, everything seemed assured.

On some afternoons, the girls would have boys over after school. Though they certainly could have congregated at the mall or the park or wherever it was that high schoolers hung out these days, the White house seemed to be the preferred spot for this rotating group for the two girls and an ever-changing number of boys. The boys had the bodies of athletes but dressed like artists, fashionable but unable to be placed within any particular social taxonomy. The boys spoke in full voice whereas the girls’ voices seemed rarely to rise above a murmur, except on those occasions when they might squeal in joyous disbelief at something particularly outrageous one of the boys had said or done. Fortuna seemed to feel no need to supervise these occasions, after all, why should she? She’d go about her business around the house, often on the phone, but would always greet each boy by name, asking after their hobbies and their schoolwork. The girls seemed completely at home having boys in the house, but Thomas realized that the house was likely also the only place where they really socialized with the boys at all. Fortuna was not a helicopter parent to the girls, but nor was she entirely hands-off either, Thomas soon realized. The family thought themselves free, but, at the very least, they were certainly modern.

To what seemed their undeniable credit, however, they never spared in their enthusiasm for Jordan. It seemed that they truly cared for him, if perhaps with a kind of care that might easily be confused with admiration or even idolization. And yet, they treated him with a soft touch, as if he might break. He was discussed as a genius, yet also as a frail thing, - his unnamed condition was rarely mentioned but its presence was everywhere.

Much later, after Thomas had come to hate the rest of the Whites for what happened, he was consoled at least by the knowledge that at least they had been good to Jordan. Fortuna fetched him whatever book he wanted from the library, his father returned with interesting trinkets for the boy from his international travels, and his teenage siblings gave him a much wider berth than older siblings tend to offer to their younger counterparts. Despite all this catering to him, there also seemed to be an attitude within the family that Jordan needed to be taught to stand on his own, as if the day when he might spread his wings and depart from their nest might come any day instead of years from now. On several occasions, company arrived for an early dinner with the Whites around when the tutoring sessions were just about to end, and Thomas noticed that the family made a show of trotting out Jordan to the guests, extolling his many virtues. After this glowing introduction had been made and as Thomas prepared to leave, the family member who had made the introduction to the guest tended to retreat on some suddenly remembered pretext, leaving the guest with the responsibility for the boy. The family spoke at no end of how far above them Jordan was, how lucky they were to experience his civilizing influence, yet, whenever they were with him, they always seemed in a great hurry to abdicate their responsibility for him, as if playing a game of hot potato. All this Thomas observed from his vantage as tutor. Who could say what might go on in the evenings or on the weekends? Perhaps things were different then. It seemed apparent, however, that the Whites, on the pretext of not wanting to interfere with a genius’ evolution, were all too reluctant to make any kind of intervention in their younger son’s life. How such a son could emerge from such a family was a mystery to Thomas, but the mystery that puzzled Thomas all the more was how a son who was so exuberantly appreciated could seem to be so alone.

The experience of tutoring Jordan had been one of great adjustment for Thomas - acclimating to a pupil who was unlike any other that Thomas had taught before. Their work together was a mixture of topics that Thomas thought Jordan might enjoy or benefit from learning about, as well as scholarly directions proposed by the boy himself. Though Jordan did not know everything, as Thomas had thought might perhaps be possible in his initial awe following their first meeting, he had an incredible ability to absorb information, seemingly never forgetting anything either after it entered his mind. Though he was lacking in tact at times, doubtless the result of his homeschooling, he was also sophisticated far beyond his years, able to speak eloquently and with nuance on a range of topics that would challenge most adults. His manner was undeniably refined yet its origins were untraceable - clearly not of his social milieu, yet not obviously owing to any other particular subculture. More still, he was unflappable, never admitting or even showing signs of struggle, as resolute and unchanging in his direction as a steamer ship. Thomas often wondered whether the boy felt emotions in the way that others did. He found it difficult to imagine the boy ever making much of an effort in a school setting, at least socially, but he was glad that, at least in their sessions together, Jordan had the opportunity to commune with another cultivated mind. It became clear to Thomas that he would have to do more for this exceptionally bright young man than he had for his other pupils. He would try to provide for him what school could not, not only would he try to impart knowledge learning onto this young man, but also an understanding of the thrill that comes from close relationships, something that he could not guarantee the boy had experienced to this point in his albeit short life. He sensed that while Jordan was likely capable of steering his education by himself without Thomas’ assistance, as Thomas imagined had likely been the case when his mother had been the homeschooler, he might yearn for a space where he could release himself from the burden of genius. It was seldom that he laughed, but when he did, Thomas swelled with pride, even if he was the object of whatever joke Jordan had just made. Despite a personality that, depending on who you asked, could be described as aloof, standoffish, or simply peculiar, Jordan had an appreciation for the dark and sardonic, and was not selfish in his amusement, usually clueing Thomas in on whatever had tickled him. He was small for his age and enormous in his intellect, meagerly socialized yet ravenous in his curiosity. He was not one who obfuscated but his meaning often seemed to get lost in translation. He was judicious and exacting, perceptive and ignorant, unafraid and cloistered. He was only ten years old.

Chapter III

There was one afternoon, while Fortuna was away on an errand, Perry was off on business, and the teenagers lounged in the backyard, as Thomas and Jordan finished their lesson for the day, when Jordan said out of nowhere: “What is your impression of us now that you’ve had some time to observe us?”

”My impression? Well, from the little I’ve gleaned, I think you’re a very friendly and tight-knit family. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you all.”

”So you intend to stay on as my tutor then?”

”Would you rather I left?”

Jordan paused, staring at the table. “I don’t see how what I want enters into the equation at all.”

”Well that’s no way of looking at things.”

”I wouldn’t think it would be hard for you to find more tutoring gigs. You’re young. They like that.”

 “The ten year old tells me I’m young. That’s a new one.”

There was a silence and then Jordan continued: “What do you think of my mother and father?”

”I like them quite a bit. They’re sweet.”

Jordan paused again, then smiled softly and said: “Who knew you were so sentimental?”

Thomas couldn’t help but blush at this, and, at this, Jordan colored too. The boy looked at him, his gaze resolute as ever, and somehow Thomas felt he couldn’t quite stand up to the scrutiny this time and averted his eyes. Something in the exchange they’d just shared had broached a question that didn’t feel appropriate for him to ask as a tutor. It was as if he had been handed a thread, not knowing what might unravel if he were to tug. Later in the relationship between tutor and pupil, when it would become something different and Thomas would speak frankly with Jordan, he would return to this afternoon as the moment that had begun it all.

Thinking that he needed to say something, Thomas replied, after what had now been a significant delay: “So I’m sentimental then. You don’t quite share my view of your parents?”

”How could we share a view of them? After all, they’re your employer. They’re my parents.”

”At least from an outside perspective, it seems like your parents care a lot about you. Maybe it helps to have that affirmed,” said Thomas.

”Would you like them less if you thought they cared about me less?”

”I try not to deal in hypotheticals,” Thomas replied, suddenly conscious of a soreness in his neck that needed urgent attention.

”I was right. You are sensitive,” Jordan said, throwing a soft punch against Thomas’ arm as they sat next to each other. He chuckled to himself and stretched his arms up to the ceiling.

Oh, so you’ve got a violent streak, I see,” Thomas said, thinking still of what the boy had just said, “And anyway, I see through your trap. You’re not gonna get me to criticize your parents, at least not to you.”

”Stick around long enough and you’ll find out all our secrets,” Jordan offered back, his arms lowered back down to his sides.

“You have quite the flair for the dramatic. Do you know that?” said Thomas.

”You’ll see. You’ll see.”

Indeed, in time, he would come to see, but not for his lack of effort to remain ignorant. It had seemed appropriate, easier even, to remain at the distance that his post suggested, but any semblance of distance soon felt impossible. Jordan was a puzzle, and though Thomas had no great like for puzzles, to understand the boy even at all seemed to require solving him. Once he did finally solve the puzzle, he almost yearned to be returned to the mystery again.

Thomas packed up his bag and as he headed for the door, Jordan called out, still seated at the kitchen table:

”I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.”

”What makes you say something so ominous?”

“Or at least, not until it gets to be too much.”

”I think you are too much!” Thomas laughed, walking out the door with a wave and a grin.

Chapter IV

Some months after Thomas had begun working for the Whites, he learned that the Whites had sold their apartment. From their explanation, apparently the ownership of the building had changed hands, and also there had been water damage at some point. It was not clear to Thomas whether the water damage or the change in ownership had happened first, but regardless the decision had been made to vacate the property, which they had used as their “home-away-from-home.” Perry explained also that he had taken to using it much less now that he was called to do less business in the city. Fortuna added with a laugh that relinquishing the apartment might give her peace of mind. Thomas learned of all this at the same time as the children, by the simple fact of being in the home when all this was explained.

It had also happened that Thomas’ responsibilities had gradually expanded as he’d stayed on with the family, without his even being aware of it, though with no discussion of increase of pay. It began simply enough - Fortuna, sounding overwhelmed, called him over the phone one morning asking if Thomas might stay for a few more hours and take Jordan to a doctor’s appointment that evening. Evidently, something urgent had come up with her sister and she couldn’t make it, but the appointment was important. Then the issue with her sister persisted, and soon he was taking Jordan to the library, as Fortuna had before. Thomas obliged and soon it was a regular occurrence Fortuna seemed to have enough on her plate, having just negotiated the sale of Perry’s sports car which he didn’t want to hold onto anymore. Thomas would broach the question of money later. 

Though the boy was homeschooled, Thomas noticed while driving him to the library that Jordan’s backpack was frayed and worn, with one strap beginning to separate from the body of the backpack. Looking back on these car rides to the library, it is this forlorn strap struggling to remain attached to the backpack that Thomas remembers most. It was clear that Fortuna had great affection for her son, but despite being a very stylish woman herself, Jordan was plain in his dress. Thinking of those much-mythologized founders of companies who wear the same set of clothes every day - a uniform - Thomas assumed that Jordan’s uncaring attitude toward his dress was only a manifestation of his monastic inner life, an expression of his concern for the life of the mind at the expense of the clothes on his body. His clothes seemed small for his frame, even for a boy who was so much slighter than most boys his age, and his clothing was not without holes, rips, and visible indicators of distress, although subtle. Unlike his older siblings, who were always to be decked in the latest fashions as Thomas saw them return from school each afternoon, Jordan was reclusive and had nowhere to show his clothes. Perhaps Fortuna thought it an imprudent investment to dress up a child who seemed to be entirely without occasion to be dressed up.

Not long after, Fortuna began asking Thomas to stay over after his official tutoring sessions had ended to watch over Jordan in the evening while the rest of the family was attending other engagements that Jordan, for whatever reason, was not expected to attend. It seemed he did not care for the movies, and besides he was too young to see an R-rated film, so Thomas stayed for a few hours, heated up the leftovers in the fridge that had been designated for him and the boy, and the two entertained one another by playing cards. Another time, it was explained that Jordan did not do well at parties and would have to be catered to the whole night if he were to attend, so Thomas was asked if he could stay that Friday night. Thomas was glad to show the boy a favorite film of his. He seemed to enjoy it. He felt a bit as if he was the boy’s older cousin or perhaps his uncle. He enjoyed seeing him outside of the tutor-pupil dynamic, where he seemed different somehow, though still singularly “Jordan.” These occasions for which Jordan was apparently to remain housebound while the rest of the family departed grew in frequency until staying late at the Whites became a regular part of Thomas’ routine. In accepting the position as tutor, he had never anticipated becoming a babysitter, but he found that he did not mind the additional responsibility, though no pay was added. Instead, Fortuna and Perry lavished gratitude and praise upon him, praising his ability to wrangle Jordan in a way that no others apparently could. They said that something would be worked out to set everything right by way of numbers. Thomas was not one to speak of money so he believed them

Only after the plans were announced to visit Perry’s mother across the country the following weekend, plans for which Jordan was apparently not a part, did things take a turn and Thomas first came to blows with his employers. It was explained to Thomas, though not clearly, that Jordan’s condition, still as of yet unnamed, as well the general trepidation his condition caused in his parents when they were traveling by air, made it impossible - or at least highly impractical - for Jordan to accompany the family on this particular trip. Fortuna proposed, as Perry sat nursing a glass of wine at the kitchen table, that Thomas might stay at the house the evening of Friday and Saturday, remaining Sunday until 9 in the evening the following Sunday, depending on when the family was to return from the airport. She seemed so sure that Thomas would agree that she hardly waited for his response, but he knew that if he failed to take the opportunity to demand some form of additional payment for these responsibilities that it would never come. He had made attempts before to communicate with either Fortuna or Perry about his wages, which remained the same even as his hours had sizably increased now that he was driver and babysitter as well as tutor, but somehow his emails on the topic never reached the couple, or, when he tried to speak to them in person, some other pressing business with their older children always seemed to come up, and couldn’t we pick the conversation back up some other time please? Now, around their kitchen table, Thomas spelled out in no uncertain terms that if he was to continue with the Whites, something would have to be done to increase his wages - today. Perry listened to him carefully, glass still in hand, with a bemused expression, as if humoring a child. He expressed, with some surprise but with little agitation, that he’d had no idea that Thomas had been so dissatisfied with the financial arrangement, and why hadn’t he said something sooner?

”Must we discuss this now? I’ve got such an early morning tomorrow,” he said to Fortuna. He made promises to Thomas that he would take the issue to the top of his to-do list, and, without so much as a word from Thomas, he evaporated into the realm of the upstairs. Now, Fortuna, looking a little lost and pulling her hair back behind her ears, said, “Let’s see what we can do about this” - as if the problem was of Thomas’ devising alone and her determination to resolve it represented an act of great generosity on her part. She resolved to talk the matter over with her husband, but after all it was getting late and the children needed to be attended to and would he mind terribly if they picked it all up tomorrow? Thomas shuffled off, but did not forget the matter. A few days later, Fortuna broached the subject again only to say that she had been surprised by this change in dynamics. After all, she’d considered him almost a part of the family and thought he could bring her anything, or, at least, so it had seemed. To this, Thomas said that a payment must be sent to his account that same day or else he would resign from his post as tutor effective immediately.

”Oh I don’t think you’d do that - at this point, you’re too invested,” she said. “You feel you’ve got some part in it now. You’re a sweet man. You wouldn’t leave him like that.” Her lips were pursed in a dry little smile and she patted him on the arm, as if he were somehow in need of consoling.

Thomas decided to wait a few days before making good on his threat. This time allowed him to reach out to a few potential job leads he’d been intending to follow up on before he accepted his position with the Whites. Before he heard back from any of these inquiries (in the end, none of which yielded anything substantial anyway), he awoke one morning to find that Perry had sent a substantial sum to his bank. Though glad for the money, he cursed himself still, as he wondered whether he would have been able to bring himself to leave Jordan had the money not arrived. He agreed to stay for the weekend. The whole arrangement seemed so obvious only now after that confrontation with the Whites that evening, where he had seen their true colors for the first time. He had admired them for their liveliness and for the ease with which they bestowed indulgences upon themselves, but it was clear now that there was not much beneath all this merrymaking. Their merrymaking could only exist in an environment that had been consciously, deliberately stripped of all substance. The Whites were moneyed, respectable, perhaps even envied, yet they were grifters all the same. They took so much and so often from so many that even the opportunity to witness their gluttony seemed almost generous on their parts. They were “real.” It was only later that he would realize how much the breadcrumbs of all this had been laid out for him already by the boy whom he had been supposed to educate. He could not see now yet how he had still to learn from this peculiar little boy.

Chapter V

The influx of cash was a temporary relief from an ongoing problem, but a larger problem still presented itself - how much could he say about a ten year old’s parents to a ten year old? Of course the idea of saying anything to Jordan seemed entirely inappropriate at first, utterly beyond the pale and a complete violation. In the weeks after his unofficial “bonus” (or restitution, however one might see it), he thought little of the question, but as the money ran low once more and the rent for the studio needed to be paid every month without fail, the topic that had undergirded all their lessons to this point finally rose to the surface - not by Thomas’ prompting, but by Jordan’s. It should have been no surprise that the boy who was so keenly aware of everything would have been aware of money or its lack, but still it came as a surprise when Jordan said, in the middle of a lesson no less: “If you were smart, you’d get out of here. It’s the clear choice.”

Thomas put down the book and turned to the boy - “Careful what you wish for!” He smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, not for lack of trying.

Jordan reached for the book and opened to the page they had been studying. “I don’t think this is sustainable for you.”

”What isn’t? Our relationship?”

“Not being paid,” Jordan said, without looking up from the back.

 “Not being paid? My bank account would beg to differ,” Thomas said, unconvincingly. “Tell me - how did you come to learn so much about my contract with your parents?”

”No one had to tell me, but knowing them you’re being paid part-time for what has clearly become a full-time position. Maybe even overtime”

Thomas paused, then continued: “That book has become awfully interesting to you, all of the sudden.”

”I’m only looking out for your best interest.”

 You don’t need to worry about me. I can handle myself. I’ve managed so far all my life. Besides, money isn’t everything.”

”Only someone who had a lot of money or none at all would say that.”

Thomas weighed several options in his mind. On one hand, the proper thing to do would have been to end the entire conversation right there and say it was none of Jordan’s concern. Somehow though to do so would have felt dishonest, a betrayal of what, to that point, had been a relationship built on a mutual esteem that was only possible through absolute honesty and trust. Besides, he was too clever a child to be fooled by any deception. Still, what self-respecting adult, much less an educator, would speak ill of a child’s parents to the child, however horrible the parents might be? So, rather than lie and rather than tell the truth, Thomas decided to misdirect the boy. He mentioned that his father had sent him a sizable payment as back-payment for additional hours worked.

”Is that so? My, my, my…” Jordan laughed.

”Now, let’s get back to the lesson. We’re not here to chat.”

Thomas retrieved the book from Jordan and resumed the lesson, but the text was suddenly inscrutable and difficult. He puzzled over each paragraph, lost in thought, and when he looked up he saw Jordan’s eyes, not on the pages, but on him. Then, he said: “You don’t have to baby me.”

”If it’s any consolation, I can’t picture you ever having been a baby.”

Jordan smiled, but quickly snapped back into focus. “I’ve been troubled by the state of things for a while now,” he offered.

”Well, then let me do you a favor and take this one thing off your plate. I’ve got it.”

They continued the lesson and all seemed well. They entered into that rhythm that seemed only possible between the two of them, a reliable flow where ideas could be plucked down from the air and everything was within the realm of understanding. All this shuddered to a halt when, out of nowhere, Jordan leaned back in his chair, away from the table. He put his fingers to his temples, rubbing furiously as if to ward off some disaster, while the veins in his neck bulged. Thomas opened his mouth to cry for help - thinking something had transpired with the boy’s condition - when he noticed tears begin to fall from the boy’s eyes, first a trickle and then a stream. No one heard this but Thomas and he had no idea what to do.

The following day, Thomas called the Whites on the phone. Their communication to this point had been strictly limited to text and email, but he was seized by the idea of having it out over the phone, and, rather than question it or second guess, he acted. Fortuna picked up and Thomas asked to speak to them both. Begrudgingly and with much insistence required on Thomas’ part, she fetched her husband and put Thomas on speaker phone, at which point he said that they must that day pay him the full wages he was owed, from the start of his employment til now, or else he would quit immediately. Not only would he quit, he would tell Jordan why he had quit.

”You’ve said something to him already, haven’t you?” Fortuna shrieked, her shrill voice picking up static over the phone line.

“I’ve said nothing. But now you’ve been warned,” Thomas replied.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Then, Perry spoke, “We employed your services because your qualifications are impressive on paper. Tell me, what other job could you have right now where you’d be making any more money than what we pay you? Isn’t our modest salary enough - and for such stimulating work nonetheless?” He went on, “You are well aware that our son is far above average. It seems you have managed to reach him… Whatever the case may be, he listens to you.”

Thomas had hoped that by threatening to expose the whole fraudulent operation to the child that he might somehow shame the parents into paying up, but instead they had assumed that the boy already knew - either that Thomas had told him or that he had figured it out himself. They were uneasy, but did not seem afraid, for the damage had, from their perspective, already been done.

Fortuna interjected, “My son knows the kinds of parents he has. I won’t be afraid of being slandered.”

”It would be slanderous to call you decent, respectable, or even halfway honest,” Thomas fired back.

”Please, don’t-“ Fortuna wailed, but Thomas hung up before she could finish.

The next day, Fortuna texted Thomas to come by the house early, while Jordan was still asleep. He arrived with no hope that she would pay up, but as soon as she opened the door, he saw that in one hand she held a stack of an indeterminate number of fifty and hundred dollar bills. Without giving him time to count it, she drew him into the living room, where she sat him down on the sofa. She sat opposite him, her face bare, not dressed for the day but still as self-possessed as a queen. With only a passing mention of the money she held in her hand, as if a single sentence should suffice, she launched into a grand speech that vacillated between reminding Thomas of the exceptional opportunity that was being presented to him through this job and chiding him for wanting more money at all given the luxurious circumstances into which he had been admitted by fact of having become a part of the Whites’ life. Didn’t they give him free access to the leftovers in their fridge when he stayed on to watch Jordan at dinner time? Wasn’t it a relief to have steady employment, especially in an intellectual field, in a time when so many young people with similar qualifications to his were floundering in menial retail and restaurant work that paid even less than he made? Hadn’t they promised that he might accompany them on their upcoming European vacation (the dates for which had as of yet not been announced) but of which he was to be an essential part? Most of all, wasn’t it a gift beyond any price to spend time with a child who was as brilliant as Jordan? Where else would Thomas come across someone who dazzled with intellect like he did, whether adult or child? Fortuna complimented Thomas’ sophistication, his sensitivity, his understanding - couldn’t he understand that this might open doors for him in the future? After all, the Whites were very well connected. Somehow the conversation seemed to have taken a turn and Thomas felt once again as if he was in the position of interviewing for the very same job that he had just earlier been trying to quit.

She went on, hitting the same points again and again with her sweet words, but he did not look her in the eye. Instead he stared over her shoulder out the window into the backyard. Finally, she said: “You see, I think I’ve found a way to work this all out.”

”Oh?”

”Yes, there’s a way to restore a little balance. So everyone can breathe easy again.”

”I think I understand,” Thomas said. “Mutually assured destruction.”

Fortuna was startled, exactly what Thomas had intended. “How do you mean?

”You’re afraid of what might happen with Jordan if I were to leave.”

“And what exactly would happen in that case that would be so catastrophic?” She asked imperiously.

”You’d have to take care of him.”

”And who else is supposed to take care of a child besides his mother?”

”Well, if that’s the case, then why not fire me?”

“You don’t mean to say that Jordan cares for you more than he cares for us, I’m sure,” said Fortuna gravely.

”I don’t know his mind, but I do give things up for him. You claim to as well, but what exactly you give up I’m not quite sure.”

Fortuna stopped, then leaned forward and took Thomas’ hand in his. “Please, can’t you stay on with us?”

Thomsa couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll do what I can. He’s a fascinating child and I’ve grown to like him very much. I wouldn’t want to leave him if I can help it. But you must understand I’m flat broke, and, being as busy as I am with my responsibilities here, I can’t exactly get another job.”

Fortuna thought for a second. “What about freelancing? I imagine you can write.”

”Spending half your time pitching and then getting paid peanuts when you finally do get published isn’t exactly a dream gig.”

”Friends of mine paid their rent in their twenties writing for magazines,” Fortuna said nobly.

”Put me in touch with them then, why don’t you? And let’s see if those magazines still exist.” To this, she said nothing, so he said: “I’ve submitted some short stories to literary journals, but they don’t take them.”

”Ah, so then you’re not the literary genius that you had us believe you were,” Fortuna said with a sneer. “It’s not as if we’re holding you back from anything grand.”

“It’s a hard industry,” he said, embarrassed. He realized that he owed her no kind of explanation for either his successes or failures, and returning to the topic at hand said: “If I am to continue with you, Jordan must know the truth. About everything”

”Are you really the kind of person who needs to be admired by children?”

”Will he admire you is the question, I think.”

She was exasperated for a second. “There’s no need to do this.”

“The ball is entirely in your court.”

”You have no shame.”

”I can live with that.”

She knew he had her. She stuck out the hand with the money in it to him. “Take it. Perry wants me to give it to you to settle everything.”

“I’m not sure this can be settled so easily.”

“You don’t want it?”

”Isn’t it time to wake Jordan for his lesson?” Thomas said, checking his watch. “I don’t mind doing it, even with all things considered.”

”More time for you to get in his ear, I’m sure.”

”In his ear! That’s a good one,” Thomas chuckled.

Thomas thought for a moment that he had overplayed his hand and that she would finally dismiss him for good. But she kept her cool. She withdrew the hand holding the bills, stood from the sofa, and walked out of the room: “Say whatever you want to him. I give you full permission.”

Chapter VI

A few days passed, during which Thomas breathed not a word to the boy of the conversation he had shared with his mother. While driving Jordan home from the park, where they had been watching birds, the boy said, out of the blue: “You don’t have to keep it a secret. This has happened before.”

”What has?”

”This whole song and dance. It happened with Felicia too.”

”My nanny when I was a kid. It was years ago at his point. She was a very special person.”

”So what is it that happened with Felicia that is now happening again?”

”My parents not paying. Or not paying the full amount that is owed. Just like with you, everything seemed fine at first. It started that she only watched me during the daytime, while my mother was away and my siblings were at school, but we got along so well that my parents opened a room for her in the house and she moved in. Of course, her hours increased exponentially, but the pay stayed the same. They thought she wouldn’t ask for the full amount out of love for me. And she did love me.” Jordan picked at the fraying strap on his backpack. “It got to be too much for her and she left. She told me everything before she went away for the last time, though, so none of what is happening to you is news to me, you see.”

”Felicia sounds like a very smart woman,” said Thomas. “And it seems like a good influence on you.”

”And doubtless, you see yourself as a good influence on me, don’t you?” Jordan said, impassively.

”You certainly push me in a positive direction. I’d venture the reverse is true,” Thomas said. “But I don’t exactly think my situation is the same as a live-in nanny.”

”Do you think that I’m totally ignorant of what’s been going on?” Jordan said. “It’s a miracle you’ve suffered through it all.”

“I haven’t suffered. It has been an honor being your teacher.”

Jordan sat still in the passenger seat, then said: “You should get a better job. You’re young enough that you could still break into any field you wanted. And you have a master’s degree, which must still count for something.”

“You know, most of the time, it’s the tutor’s job to motivate the student, not the other way around.”

Thomas thought for a second about this little boy, surrounded by a family of users and takers. Perhaps his pain would not be so acute were it not for his intellect, for perhaps he would not be as aware of the chasm between his family and his own self. Or perhaps it was his sensitivity, and not his intellect at all, that was the source of his suffering. Most admirable of all about the little fellow was that he seemed to take it all in stride. In a family that seemed to blow over at the slightest sign of exertion, he stood tall. His stoicism was not a monument, nor was it jealously possessed, but all the same his conviction made him hard to reach. It was easy, he realized, to assume, as so many others seemed to, that this little boy knew it all, and perhaps, he thought, some disservice had been done to him in this regard.

Jordan continued: “I would have spoken to them about their decision not to pay you, but I know how that would have gone, so I hope you’ll excuse me.”

“How would it have gone?”

”They would have said you were embellishing it all - that you were abusing your authority as my teacher to fill my head with untruths for your personal gain. It happened that way when I asked about Felicia.”

”They said she had an… undue influence?”

“Yes, and they told her so.” Jordan answered. “I don’t want to put you through that.”

”You think they might suggest my influence is also… undue?” Jordan did not reply, and shifted away to look out the window. “There’s no need to worry about me,” Thomas said. “All things considered, your parents are good people.”

”Besides the slander and the labor exploitation and the habitual issuing of threats, you mean?”

“Now, Jordan…” said Thomas, striking an amiable, joking tone, as he was wont to do when Jordan became self-righteous as he tended to do.

“We don’t have a lot of time. We need to figure out a plan,” said Jordan. Thomas wondered what movie he had seen where he’d learned to talk this way.

”I would caution you against judging your parents too harshly,” Thomas said, trying to be diplomatic.

”For being grifters?”

”For trying to keep your household solvent. It is not a cheap thing to have children, especially in this area. I imagine your father and mother are likely already thinking of what you and your siblings, young as you are, will inherit.”

”It’s a pity they haven’t thought of what else we might inherit from them,” Jordan said, before going on: “A reputation as the children of con artists and scammers, for instance.”

“I think you’ll be alright. After all, this country was built on cons. Why not try thinking of your reputation a little less?”

“Ah, my reputation. My reputation among whom exactly?”

“Your parent’s friends?”

”Oh, you mean the associates my mother has managed to cling to from her oh-so-brief dalliance in the art world? My father’s unseen business partners who may or may not be legitimate? The boys who come over after school to see my sisters but never seem to stick around, perhaps? Who is one person infamily’s orbit who has been around long enough to see the truth about them and then stuck around?”

”Jordan…”

”And beyond any of that, where do they stand? Where did the money come from? Is there even any money at all? To them, it’s not even a question of have’s and have-not’s. It’s just about the appearance, and somehow they’ve managed to keep it up for as long as they have. But, sooner or later, people find out. At least, the good people do. And then they leave,” Jordan said, his fingers pressed to his temples. “You’re one of the good people, so you have to leave. For your sake.”

“And what will happen to you?”

”It’s only a few years before I’ll be out of this house.”

Looking over at the boy who now sat in his passenger seat, Thomas noticed that, though he had been Jordan’s teacher for less than a year, he was undeniably taller. He hadn’t noticed until now.

The boy continued, “Promise me you won’t stay for my sake. This is a dead end. You should be a professor. Or a writer.”

”I promise, should anyone show up tomorrow with an offer to be a professor or a writer, I’ll accept.”

Jordan stretched in his seat and said: “It’s much better now that everything’s out in the open. I much prefer being honest.”

”I will miss the chance to be honest with you, that I can guarantee.”

Jordan turned to Thomas and squinted, then said: “But you’re not being honest, are you? At least not entirely.”

”How am I not being honest?”

”You can’t fool me. Remember, I’m the genius here.”

”You are truly one of a kind, Jordan. Never change,” Thomas said, giving the boy a punch on the shoulder. “Never change.”

Jordan laughed and punched him back, saying: “If we’re honest, everything’s okay.”

Chapter VII

Now that the truth was out in the open, Thomas and Jordan couldn’t help but habitually revisit the topic now that it was fair game. Jordan had a way of discussing these things that was undeniably gossipy yet lost none of his analytical quality. In telling stories, he had the unique ability to make even the most prosaic detail about his family seem incredibly important and laden with significance. Iin the course of these conversations, Thomas realized that Jordan possessed more of an ego than he had imagined. He was diplomatic, yet it would be a mistake to say that he was always polite, and, as the blurry contours of his inner life came into more clear focus, he imagined that the boy’s incredibly developed sense of self, as much as it might protect him now in his youth, might become burdensome in adulthood. He hoped that this supreme confidence would be one day tempered by humility, but not lost entirely. His criticisms of his family seemed as much to do with what he perceived to be their coarseness, their social blunders, and their brazen social climbing, as about their unsavory business or employment practices. Thomas wondered if the lying and cheating wouldn’t have estranged the boy from his family so much if it had been done in an elegant fashion instead of a blundering one.

Jordan wondered aloud once: “They aren’t without their gifts, you know. In fact, they’re far more gifted than most.” Thomas listened. “I don’t know why they bother pursuing these people who aren’t worth half of what we are. I think it’s just a matter of misplaced priorities. If only they’d make an effort, then things would be different for them.“

It had become obvious by now, though, that effort was not something the Whites were willing to expend. They begun planning the much-awaited European vacation. They sat around the kitchen, some at the table, some atop stools around the island, and spoke idly about where they ought to go and what they ought to do when they arrived there. Breakfast was something to be picked at, not finished, and, when they spoke of summer, the future seemed like an amusing possibility, not a certainty for which preparations must be made. The teenagers seemed somehow to have escaped from the pains of adolescence that Thomas so vividly recalled. He had remembered feeling as if the future would consume him if he did not prepare himself to meet it. Where he had remembered feeling agitated, Jordan’s older siblings seemed only languorous, draped across the furniture, speaking only when they pleased. The whole family was so removed from the concerns of ordinary people. They lived in a world where no one would ever need to think of future careers, test scores, job applications, resumés, or, least of all, money.

One rainy spring afternoon, partly to give Jordan a little exercise and partly to get away from the family, Thomas was showing the boy how to do some calisthenics exercises in the basement of the family home. The basement was cold, but the rest of the house was not much warmer, for Perry hated to turn on the heat unless it was absolutely necessary. While the rest of the family scrolled on their phones in separate rooms upstairs, Thomas was guiding Jordan through a minimally strenuous program of planks, push-ups, sit-ups, and squats, using a long-neglected exercise mat of Perry’s that had been sitting in a dingy corner. Jordan seemed aware that he had grown much stronger than he had been when Thomas began as his teacher and he approached the exercises with a studied determination that remained visible despite his attempts to project an image of ease. Perhaps because his spirits were lifted by the rejuvenating effects of the exercises, Jordan spoke about how it would only be a matter of time before he was out of the family home and at university. He talked often of “his life” in the way that a person much older than him might, yet his visions for the future seemed glorious and unbound by the “life” that had, so far, preceded it. He detailed his plans for college and afterwards, listing the most elite universities as foregone conclusions for him. Thomas smiled for the boy, but strained to imagine the Whites ever justifying such an expense on the child who they seemed to regard as nothing more than the pale oddity to be trotted out as a party amusement. What’s more, though Jordan was brilliant beyond a doubt, how would he make a way for himself in a world that was so unlike any he had ever known? Though he might have resented the special treatment he had received up to this point, he had always been indulged. How could someone who was so frail yet so prickly make his way to the top of a college campus, much less the adult world? Jordan, it was now clear, was a keen observer, perhaps the keenest, but he was not a striver. But none of these concerns seemed to trouble him at the moment. His face was flushed with exertion and his brow was wet with sweat and, though he grimaced with effort, he was lit from within by the glow of a burgeoning body discovering for the first time that it might be capable.

A knock came from the top of the basement stairs. Thomas turned and there Fortuna stood, wrapped in a robe - her hair wet from the shower. She called out softly: “Jordan, sweetheart. I think that’s enough exercise for today. We don’t want you getting worn out.” Reluctantly, the boy dropped from the plank he had been sustaining onto the exercise mat. Fortuna continued, “Why don’t you head on upstairs and tuck into bed? You have to watch out in this cold weather so as not to catch a cold.” Thomas bid the boy farewell and he walked up the stairs into the momentary embrace of his mother, then out the basement door and eventually out of sight. Fortuna turned back to Thomas with a toothless smile, and clasping her hands together walked down the stairs to the basement floor, taking a seat on the distressed sofa that abetted the concrete wall. She beckoned him to sit beside her and he reluctantly did. It was clear she had something to discuss, but it was not at all clear what it might be.

She explained to him that she needed three thousand dollars and asked him if he would be willing to lend it to her. Thomas was dumbfounded, and, before he could reply, she went on to say that she very badly needed the money, that it was very important and a great many things hung in the balance of whether she got it.

A laugh escaped from Thomas’ lips.

”I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh,” Thomas said, his laughter continuing. “Where, pray tell, do you think I would just come across three thousand dollars?”

”I thought you’d been published a few times. Don’t you get paid for that?”

“Nope.”

”So it’s unpaid labor then?”

”Isn’t that your area of expertise?”

Fortuna looked puzzled, then blushed bright red. It was clear that whatever she had going on now had completely replaced their little quarrel over money in her mind and all the details of their arrangement had been forgotten. “Oh, well yes. You’re right. But do you need to bring it up so often?” They had gotten along very well ever since he’d threatened to quit, and, though they’d never spoken of it, he assumed that she thought he had discussed the situation with Jordan, as he’d said he would. She seemed completely untroubled by the idea that her son would have one more confirmation that his parents were less than honest characters. Perhaps she was relieved even, so as to no longer have to keep up the pretense of honesty. She repeated her plea for the three thousand dollars and he said once more that he could, in no way, oblige her request. Somewhat to add insult to injury, he went on to say that, even if he had the money, he certainly wouldn’t give it to her. In the last few months, he had become aware that, for some reason, he sympathized with her too much, and that she preyed on this sympathy to take advantage. Something in her had felt somehow like a compatriot, but he realized now the battles they were fighting were in no way the same. With a curt nod, she rose from the sofa and glided up the stairs out of the room.

Thomas took stock of himself for a moment, then followed up the stairs. Fortuna was nowhere in sight and he assumed that she must have gone upstairs to the bedroom. He went to the kitchen table and sat. He unlocked his phone and saw a notification for an email from a friend of his mother’s, who, having promised months ago to get back to him about a teaching job that might exist for him, now replied that a position was available at a private school in New York and that he would be a sure thing if he interviewed. He read: “Decent pay, great benefits, rich school. Glad this worked out.” Thomas noticed a head poking out from the top of the stairs, where Jordan stood staring at him, apparently having roused himself from the nap his mother had enforced onto him. Thomas beckoned him to come to the table and told the boy about the email he had just received. Jordan said that he must write back to accept at once and Thomas agreed. He typed out a reply and sent it. Then, the boy spoke.

”We couldn’t have arranged things better if we’d planned it ourselves. It seems your fortunes have changed.”

“Yes, what luck. Finally the chance to make a little money. Or, rather, a lot of it.”

”Hopefully they’ll pay you.”

”Ha! Even with my luck, it couldn’t happen twice to have employers as bad as—!” Thomas stopped himself. He amended the phrase he had intended to say and said “That I’d be employed in a situation such as this once again.”

Jordan smiled and said, “Picture you in New York City. You’ll be the toast of the town, I’m sure. A bonafide young professional.”

”I think you have a few too many illusions about the ways of the world.”

”Oh, cheer up. You’ve got good news, for once.”

Thomas patted the boy on the shoulder. His affection for him had grown so that it threatened to burst out of his chest. “And what will happen to you, dear boy?” He thought of Fortuna’s plea for the three thousand dollars.

”Why, I’ll grow taller and smarter,” he laughed, then catching Thomas’ drift, he continued: “Once you’re gone, I can work out a more suitable arrangement with them.”

”Only once I’m gone! You’d think I was the cause of the problem.”

”Well, in some ways you were. But it’s alright. I’ll work things out. I’ve got some ideas, you know.”

”Of that I’ve never had any doubt!” Said Thomas. Perhaps a jolly back-and-forth was the best - or at least most appropriate - tone for their farewell.

Then, Jordan asked: “Do you have the right kind of clothes for a job like that?”

Thomas looked at what he was wearing. “Why, you think I’m shabby?”

”You could certainly stand to get a few new things before your first day. The clothes make the man, you know.”

”I take your point. A complete wardrobe overhaul is needed.”

The joking went on for a while, and eventually Jordan demanded to help Thomas browse online for clothes that he might buy. Usually it would have been time for a lesson, but, this time, Thomas allowed it. Then, their online research switched to looking for apartments, comparing neighborhoods, price points, and amenities, then to exploring the cultural hotspots that Thomas must be sure to see after he had moved. This carried on for a long good while. Eventually, Fortuna came downstairs, her eyes still bleary with sleep. Per Jordan’s encouragement, Thomas gave her his news, tendering his resignation, effective at the end of the day. Fortuna took the news extremely poorly and couldn’t help herself but to accuse him of having taken advantage of all that they had done for him. Where was she to find another tutor of his same qualifications on such short notice? There might be no other alternative but to enroll Jordan in a standard school, she warned. Thomas thought this might not be such a bad thing, while Jordan made no protest. Despite Fortuna’s extravagant reaction, Thomas had to give credit however to Perry and the teenagers, who, after learning of Thomas’ news when they arrived home that evening, were perfectly polite and wished him well.

Chapter VIII

In New York, he took to teaching at the private school well enough, but couldn’t quite decide whether the students were mediocre or if he’d simply grown too accustomed to teaching pupils as motivated and brilliant as Jordan. In the first months, he received several texts from Jordan. The boy told him about how things were going, thought not much seemed to have happened, and played off of inside jokes that they had shared. Their text conversations were amusing and he thought of showing them to a new friend in the city to impress how special the young boy he had taught had been, but did not. He felt something about it would not seem right. His students did well enough that first semester, though several of them nearly failed his class.

Over the winter holiday, he received an email from Fortuna saying that Jordan was suddenly ill and that he must come visit him. Fortuna was evasive with the details, and when Thomas texted Jordan to try to find out more about the situation, he did not reply. Thomas made the arrangements to visit the White home. Fortuna welcomed him when he arrived. The house seemed dirtier than when he had left, in need of a thorough professional cleaning, and was not as carefully made up as it had been in the days when Thomas had taught there. Fortuna seated him at the kitchen table, where he began to bombard her with questions as to Jordan’s health and condition, only to be interrupted when the boy appeared at the top of the stairs. He raised his arms, flipping his palms up to the sky in a semi-theatrical pose, as if to say “Here I am!”

“There he is! Why, you’re as healthy as a horse,” exclaimed Thomas. To Fortuna: “And to think you told me he could barely get out of bed!” Going on, he said to Jordan: “Why’d you have to worry me, huh? Why didn’t you reply when I texted you?”

Fortuna said that, at the time of her email, that Jordan’s condition had actually been much worse. Coming down the stairs, Jordan said he hadn’t received any texts from him lately — in fact, he’d texted him and had been surprised that Thomas hadn’t replied. In seconds, Thomas decided that Jordan’s parents must have interfered with his phone somehow to stop him from receiving his texts, and, furthermore, that the purpose for his having been invited was likely not as it had been described to him initially. Looking back to Fortuna, her expression suggested that he was correct. She continued to say that much had not been resolved from his time with them. She said that she was glad that he had come so that they could sort everything out, and that she hoped very much that he might consider returning to work for them. Fortuna elaborated that Jordan had been too ill for normal school to have even been considered as a possibility, so he had been at home that year on medical leave, while Fortuna attempted to homeschool him herself, but enough was enough. He had made the boy grow very attached to him, to the detriment of his relationship with his family, and now, in his hour of greatest need, it was his duty to fulfill his responsibilities.

”Pardon me, but I made him attached to you?“ said Thomas, his voice rising.

”Make her stop! I can’t bear it here anymore. They’re horrible, you know it!” This outburst had come unexpectedly from Jordan, who now sat at the kitchen table looking pale with beads of sweat gathered along his forehead.

”Don’t you see that he’s not well?” said Fortuna, taking Thomas’ arm to plead with him. Then, to her son, she said, “Just hold on, sweetheart. Don’t say things you’ll regret later.”

“I’m okay. Don’t worry,” Jordan said softly from his chair, smiling softly with an odd look.

Caught up in the spell she was trying to cast, Fortuna described how things would be different this time when Thomas returned to them. They would pay him on time; in fact, he would receive a substantially increased rate compared to his previous salary. She said that Perry had taken a step back from his work in an effort to spend more time with the family and that Jordan had been benefiting from his being around more, and that Thomas would benefit too by having another man around the house to help out. It had still never been clear to Thomas what Perry’s work had been. For no seeming particular reason, Fortuna added their oldest son was to be leaving the home soon, and the twins would be on their way soon enough. Thomas wondered if she meant college.

While she spoke of her grand plans for his return as Jordan’s tutor, Thomas couldn’t help but think of how hard it had been to land a full-time job, much less an intellectually respectable position like “high-school teacher.” He had just barely managed it, even with significant connections, and there was no promise that such a chance would come again.

Then, Fortuna said that she had a plan in mind for Jordan. She had learned of a boarding school that she hoped to have Jordan apply to in his later middle school years. After all, though seventh grade had only just begun for him, she explained that this period was key for selection for merit-based scholarships for boarding schools and that she was sure that with a year or two’s assistance from Thomas that Jordan would be a sure thing for a full ride. Thomas realized that Jordan was now twelve. Fortuna emphasized once more that Thomas would be handsomely rewarded for his efforts should he return.

At this, Thomas looked at Jordan, who had colored with surprise and excitement at this development. He sensed that the boarding school had been his idea. It was not in Fortuna’s character to think of her son’s future.

”Do you really mean it?” The boy said to his mother. “You said before it wouldn’t be possible.”

”Yes, my darling,” she cooed. “That is, if Thomas will help you. His assistance will be invaluable if you are to keep up with your studies so that you can continue at a standard school schedule along with your peers. Not to mention, he’ll help you with your essays, your test prep, and preparing for your interviews, once it comes to that.”

To Thomas she now said, “We think of you as one of the family, Perry and I. We’d like nothing more than for you to help our boy.” She clasped her hands together expectantly. “It’s only possible with you. There’s no one else we can find who’ll be able to get him across the finish line. Think of his future! Won’t you do it? Say you will!”

Jordan looked at Thomas now. His face was full of expectation. He beamed with joy. Finally, there was a way out for the boy, just like he’d always talked about, only he wouldn’t have to wait this time. Though he had grown, he looked younger than he’d ever been before, even at the start of their acquaintance. Seeing his innocent face now, he wondered how it had ever seemed that the boy was somehow beyond his years.

“Well, how does all that sound?” Fortuna asked Thomas, evidently pleased with herself and the offer she had made.

He moved to open his mouth, but the words would not come. He had known from the start what his answer would be. At once, everything was too loud and the lights were too bright. He couldn’t look at the boy.

Then, Jordan’s smile shifted to something else. He closed his eyes and stumbled to the couch, taking a hasty seat. He tried to inhale, but breath would not come. He attempted to raise his fingers to temples, but he collapsed before they could reach him. He clutched at his chest 

“Darling, are you alright?” Fortuna cried out. She rushed to the couch and took him in her arms. Thomas ran after her and to him she said, “You got him too excited! He’s not supposed to be in stressful situations.”

Her boy still in her arms, Fortuna cried out, horrified: “Do something! Do something!” Jordan was beyond words now, and Thomas could only watch as, seconds later, he went beyond them all entirely. As Fortuna wailed, Thomas grabbed the boy and held him. Fortuna and Thomas stared at one another.

”His condition…” Thomas whispered - “the conflict, the surprise, the emotions, it must have been too much for him.”

”And everything was so close to working out!” cried Fortuna.

Perry arrived home before the paramedics by total coincidence. Like Fortuna, he was, of course, very upset. That day he grieved, but, not long after, as was his character, he took it in stride.