"Are you any relation to Johannes?" asked Bobby.
"Yes, I'm actually a direct descendant. I just realized you're the boy with the cello, you play beautifully. I especially liked when you played my favorite."
"Ombra mai fu?"
"Yes, how did you know?"
"You were sort of swaying with your eyes shut and you seemed very peaceful and unaware of the other people around you."
"Oh, you saw me then? You have no idea how hard it was to not just sing with you."
"Yes; it's nice to see someone enjoying the music when I play. I would have loved to have you sing along. Do you play an instrument?"
"Just piano, well enough to accompany myself while I sing," said Drew shyly.
"I think I'd like to hear you sing very much," said Bobby as he gazed into Drew's sparkling eyes.
Bobby's reverie was broken by the sound of his repeater chiming the third quarter hour. He needed to get back to the atrium and help get the ensemble ready. Todd would no doubt know where to find him but he would have his hands full herding the boys who came along with the performers to see the exhibits.
"Will you stay for the concert?"
"I'm supposed to meet my Mother for lunch but I think I have time."
"Cool," said Bobby handing Drew a card. "The number on the front is the academy where you can leave a message. I won't get it until after classes, but I will' get it. The number on the back is my Grandparents place; I'm usually there on the weekends."
"Hmmm, the prefix is the same as ours, where are these places?" said Drew
"Well the school is in north Pasadena and the ranch is up in Webb Canyon, why where do you live? Bobby asked
Just off Orangegrove about half a mile from your school." Drew beamed.
"Oh man," Bobby yipped, "we have to hang out, it'll be so cool!" he yipped again, for once sounding like a regular twelve-year-old.
"But wait, where are you meeting your mother?" he continued.
"Cedars," Drew said. "She's a Doctor," hoping Bobby wouldn't ask about his Dad.
"Cool," was Bobby's only reply. Then he said, "Hey, I bet Leo and Mike could drop you, they're going right by there and it's a lot safer than a taxi or bus."
"That would be "Bitchin' indeed, I'll follow you over."
Litton Raemer was a special case. The casual observer might think he was Autistic or subject to some other cognitive deficiency, but that wasn't true.
When he arrived at school he had the worst hygiene of any boy Bobby had ever seen. He didn't seem to know how to interact with others or care for his own needs.
Todd the "Head Boy" had enlisted Bobby's help with Litton.
He had his hands full just being Head Boy two years running.
He had taken over for the previous Head a month into term because he couldn't get the boys to cooperate. That was mostly due to his tendency towards being a Martinette. The boys couldn't take him seriously and wouldn't submit to his will. He had believed he could whip these people into shape by invoking a strict almost military regimen of behavior. He threw in the towel after a very frustrating month and left the school a month after that. No one ever gave him a bad time about failing as Head Boy but he believed the boys would laugh at him behind his back.
During all this upheaval, Todd had been the boy's champion.
Santori, the new head, would pronounce a decree and Todd would remind him that he couldn't change the rules of comportment without the Dean's approval.
Santori would counter that it wasn't a change, just a re-interpretation. Todd would tell him the boys wouldn't do it and he couldn't make them.
But that was old news; Bobby had really stepped up and helped with Litton Raemer. He taught him how to bathe properly and maintain an acceptable level of hygiene right down to showing Raemer how to clean his foreskin; honestly, the boy had no clue. He couldn't even wipe himself properly. To most Litton seemed deficient in some way but Bobby saw through this, the fact was the Boy was brilliant, Einstein brilliant.
He wasn't deficient he was preoccupied with mathematics. He was doing things in his head that men like Turing, Feynman, and Nash would have difficulty doing on paper.
Once Bobby discovered Raemer sitting in chapel listening to the Chaplain play the Pipe Organ "Fantasia and Fugue in G major."
The next day Bobby heard the same piece being played and though he thought it odd for the Chaplain to repeat, however, he had other things to tend to and gave it no more thought. Until he came upon the Chaplain who was making a beeline for the Chapel, Bobby decided to join the Chaplain. Upon entering they found, seated at the keyboard; Raemer. He was repeating the piece note for note without the benefit of sheet music. The only thing he hadn't worked out, were the stops.
Once he had finished the Chaplain cleared his throat and Litton spun around to face them. The Chaplain said in a gentle voice "young man, in the future please consult with me before you play the organ won't you?"
"Yes Sir," came Litton's characteristic monotone as he filed past the two.
When he had gone the Chaplain said "Remarkable! I've never seen the like."
"Me either," replied Bobby staring after Raemer.
Bobby continued his journey to Dean Rigsby's office and asked the Bursor if the Dean was available. The Bursor, in turn, picked up the receiver and dialed the Dean's extension and then said, "Master Mackenzie to see you, sir, are you available?" She replaced the phone, smiled at Bobby and said: "Go right in."
"Ah young MacKenzie, how are you today? Can I interest you in a cup of tea?" said the Dean.
"Excellent sir! Shall I pour?"
"Oh yes, that would save me getting up from this confounded chair, it's a bit like a bear trap don't you know." The Dean chirped.
Bobby knew the routine and he knew how the Dean liked his tea but convention dictated one should always ask, and so "milk and sugar, sir?"
"Oh, ah yes, I think so."
Bobby had already poured the milk in the cup and was pouring the tea in as the Dean was speaking, he added the three sugars and placed three shortbread cookies on each saucer and carried the cups to the desk. Both took a sip of tea after which the Dean asked, "how may I be of service, young man?"
"Well, sir" Bobby began; "Litton Raemer sir, I'm afraid he just doesn't belong here, sir."
"Is he just not up to the curriculum here?" inquired the Dean."
"No sir, it's not that," Bobby continued "I suspect the curricula aren't up to him, sir. He's incredibly smart sir, he does quads, err quadratic equations for fun and he helps many of the boys here grasp complex arithmetic. It's the only time I ever see him interacting with other students, and he positively glows while he's doing it."
The Dean leaned back and smiled," So you're on to our little ruse then?" then without waiting for a reply, he said, "You are of course quite correct Bobby, and he will not be returning after this term. He will instead be attending a school across town, you may have heard of it; a little place called Cal-Tech, I believe."
The Dean sat back with a satisfied smile, "I'm sorry for the deception, but there was really no other way. You see he has never attended any sort of school before. He has had a succession of tutors who tended to his intellect but not his social graces."
"That I'm afraid was left to ill-equipped house staff who taught him just enough to keep him presentable most of the time. You, my young man, have done an excellent job of preparing him to join his mentor and function in an acceptable fashion."
After a moment Bobby replied, "I see sir, I must say I'm not surprised. He is destined to do great things."
"As are you, young man, I suspect you will be the Head boy here in a year; perhaps two." The Dean chuckled.
Bobby blushed and said, "I guess I'm glad to have had a small part in helping him to achieve his future. I may actually miss him a bit I suppose."
"Well I know he holds you in very high regard indeed, if I mention you in conversation he grins and blushes, I'd have to say he has become quite fond of you just like all of your little ducklings."
"Ducklings, sir?" inquired Bobby
"Oh yes," smiled the Dean. "Do you remember when you first came here? Initially, you seemed quite lost and a bit homesick. But you saw other boys who weren't coping near as well as you, so you pitched in and helped them adjust. We used to say; here comes Little Bobby with his flock of ducklings, see how they follow."
Bobby was silent, he was at a loss for words; he had never seen it that way before. He thought of it as having several younger brothers to look after, it wasn't a chore but a calling of sorts. And it gave him something to distract him from his own personal sadness.
"I don't believe you realize," the Dean continued, "how well or how widely you are regarded by your peers and underclassmen as well as many of our senior boys."
"This school is populated by exceptional boys and you stand out amongst them."
"I get letters from very happy parents that credit this school and you for turning the sons around academically speaking. Most of them have been marked with a red letter 'B' as they are boys who blossomed under your stewardship. I fully expect to receive such a missive from the Raemer family regarding young Litton."
Bobby sat there stunned, up to that moment he never considered what impact his actions were having on others, for a moment he stared blankly and then realized he couldn't see very well at all.
The Dean pushed a box of tissues across the desk saying "Now then Bobby, we can't have leaving here in that condition, people will think I've been applying the whip."
Bobby wiped his eyes and nose and chuckled, knowing full well the old man had probably never struck a child in his life. A more gentle soul never walked this earth, he thought.
Of course, Bobby didn't know what a terror the man had been with a Lewis gun during the first war.
Bobby left the Dean's office in a bit of a haze. He had dried his eyes and finished his tea and when he was ready to leave, he did something he had always wanted to do but never had the nerve to carry out. He stepped up to the Dean, threw his arms around his ribs and hugged his frail old carcass putting his cheek to the man's breastbone. The Dean; thinking that he had broken down again patted his back and said, "there now, no need for that."
After a suitable interval Bobby released his grip and smiled up at the dean, "Well sir, I've wanted to do that for quite some time, sir."
"Well," said the dean, "let's not make a habit of it, I might become addicted." He smiled and patted the boy on the back and ushered him out of his office.
Bobby's head spun a bit walking back to his dorm. He looked forward to the upcoming concert at the museum and being able to see the "The Girl" one last time.
As he walked, he noted the tell-tale signs of Litton Raemer. He had a habit that Bobby had not been able to curtail, that of leaving orange peel wherever he went. Litton positively inhaled oranges and wasn't careful about where he dropped the peels. Bobby had supplied him with sandwich bags for the peels and Raemer reluctantly used them when he could remember. He tried very hard to please Bobby but just couldn't coordinate peeling an orange and placing the peel in his pocket. He had improved and Bobby gave him credit for that much.
Bobby bent and collected the peelings and tossed them in a trash bin five steps away. He went in search of Todd who would be in his room at this time of day.
When he arrived he knocked at the door and heard a distinct thump, some shuffling and the clink of a belt being buckled. Bobby was already blushing when the door swung open with Todd standing in front of it with his shirt un-tucked and just failing to conceal the waning erection within his trousers.
"Oh, hi Bobby" Todd offered. "What's up?"
"Err, I can come back later if you like, I mean if you're busy right now." Then he said, "Hi Win," in response to spying Winston Davies' reflection in the mirror, he was sitting out of sight or so he thought, on the other bed. He rose and came to the door which Todd opened a bit wider now that they were caught.
"Hey, hello Bobby," said Win sheepishly.
Bobby stared at Win and struggled to keep his composure, for there at the very tip of Win's aquiline nose was a stringer of white goo. Bobby reached in his pocket on reflex and retrieved a tissue, proffering it to Win, saying, "That's quite a runny nose you've got there Win, you better have one of these, you don't want to be untidy in front of the Head Boy."
Bobby turned back to Todd and said, "When you've got half an hour or so I have some things I need to discuss with you regarding Raemer and the upcoming concert trip."
Todd pondered a moment and said, "How about the common room at six. We can have a stroll through the quad and discuss your concerns, Okay?"
"That would be fine, thanks. Sorry to have interrupted your studies, I know it must be difficult to find time for it."
With that, Bobby struck out down the hall as quickly as he could without violating the rules of comportment.
Todd and Win watched after him as he strode purposefully down the hallway.
"Do you suppose he knew what we were up to?" asked Win.
"An absolute certainty," said Todd.
"Do you suppose he'll tell anyone?" Win asked worriedly.
"Not a soul," assured Todd.
"Well, he gets points for outstanding form; I mean he didn't even smirk for shit's sake. I just can't abide nobility in the lower classes," groused Win.
"Ah yes, frightfully bad manners for him to exhibit such good ones," said Todd, imitating Wins' toffee English accent.
"Oh, just shut the door and get over here, you've work to do!" Win snipped.
"I'll just put out the studying sign on the door, so we aren't interrupted again," Todd said mirthfully.