Before the Fall

The Prince and the Pauper

Elyse was followed home by her teacher and his serpent like son, who never seemed to blink. The creepy eyebrow kid had to open his mouth. Well, the joke was on him. She stood behind him, ready to use him as a human shield for her mother's fury. However, before Erwin's father could even knock, her own came out of the house, fumbling with his coat.

"Oh, yer Elyse's teacha," he noted.

"Yes, and you must be Mr. Sumner."

"I am. What's the problem? Uh, but, I must say before ya reply, my wife's in an awfully foul mood right now. It would be in yer best interest not ta not ask fer 'er."

"Well, if it's too much of a bother, I could come back some other time."

"Oh, no, you an' I can walk an' talk." He began his collected stride. "Now what did my little girl do this time?"

Elyse's teacher followed suit and walked beside her father, leaving her and Erwin a little ways behind them. "She was reading behind her text book, and this isn't the first time," her teacher said. "I'm afraid your little girl isn't going to learn anything."

Gregory looked over his shoulder at Elyse. "'oney, what's fifty divided by ten, plus twelve?"

"Uhhh, seventeen?" she responded with a crooked smile.

He looked back at her teacher, shrugging carelessly. "I've been teachin' 'er math since she could speak. Comes with 'avin' ta measure things."

"Well, Mr. Sumner, that's not the only problem. I understand that she's a very bright young lady."

"Who, I've been told, still cannot understand the concept of left shoe an' right shoe." He looked back again, grinning at his daughter.

"I know if it's right when I put it on," Elyse groaned.

"I can help you with that," Erwin offered.

She turned to him, teeth clenched. "You got my book taken away."

"You shouldn't have been reading it."

"Ah!" Gregory turned all the way around, now walking backwards. "'oney, ya know where papa's book went? Ya know ya shouldn't take things that dun belong to ya."

"Teacher still has it," she muttered.

Her teacher touched her father on the shoulder. "That's also what I wanted to talk to you about." 

He raised a curious eyebrow. "Eh? They're 'armless stories. I'll talk ta 'er about readin' them in class, but I ain't gonna stop 'er from readin' them all togetha." 

"Oh, no, it's not that..." He looked around and lowered his voice. "This is where I'd prefer it if we talked in private."

Gregory ran his eyes over the man, over his face, arms, legs. Elyse's father always did this with people, for whatever reason. It was a queer sort quirk of his that Elyse never understood. When he was satisfied he would resume what he had been doing previously, just like his observation was written in parentheses. "Gotta get the wife some fabric first."

"Of course."

Gregory continued with his brisk pace into main street and darted into one of the many stores, one his wife preferred to buy from. The owner, knowing his wife very well, handed over a mountain of fabric rolls of all different colors and textures. Did she think they brought a cart horse with them? If she knew their family, she should know that they owned no such thing. Elyse offered to help her poor father with carrying the load, but he only tipped the mound and let one of the smaller rolls at the top fall into her arms. Apparently the only thing hindering him was the fact that his vision was obscured. For someone who never rose his hand against anyone, he sure was in a position to do so. Her father could beat a man black and blue with just a slap.