by Aubrey Rose
“You poor thing,” I said, holding him close and feeling him shiver through his thin coat. What could I do? Maybe I could leave a blanket outside for him, make him a bed. I didn’t know if that would be enough. I couldn’t leave him to freeze to death outside. He might get run over by a car, or attacked by a stray dog. All of the terrible possibilities ran through my mind, and I stood there, motionless, not knowing what I could possibly do to save him.
“Brynn?”
I turned to see Mark in the doorway, his dark hair haloed by yellow light.
“Brynn, you’re nuts! Where’s your coat?”
“I—I—” My voice caught on the first syllable, and then I was sobbing, letting all of my frustration and anger and pity boil up and out of me. Mark stepped down and put his arms around me in an uncertain embrace, with Lucky caught between us. He meowed, butting his head against Mark’s chest and expecting a pet.
“It’s okay,” he said, obliging the kitten by scratching his head. “It’s going to be okay.”
“God, who the hell does she think she is?” I said. Tears streamed down my cheeks.
“Brynn, it’s okay.”
“It’s not okay!” I nearly yelled the last word, and Mark glanced back at the open apartment door. “Lucky could die, and she wouldn’t care!”
“Brynn, shhhh,” Mark said. “She’s the director’s daughter. The director of the Academy.”
“His daughter? So what!”
My eyes must have blazed with anger, because Mark immediately held up one hand to quiet me.
“I know, I know,” he said. “But the guy’s important. I just thought you should know. And hey, Brynn?”
“What?” I wiped at my eyes with my free hand. My nose ran, and Mark dug in his pockets, holding out a crumpled paper napkin. I took it gratefully and held it up to my face. A tissue to stop a leaking dam, it was entirely ineffectual.
“I can take the cat,” Mark said.
I looked at him, uncomprehending.
“We can sneak him into the boys’ room. At least for tonight. And we can take him to a humane shelter tomorrow. ”
“I’m not taking him to a pound,” I said, hugging Lucky to my chest protectively. “That’s almost worse.”
“Okay, we’ll figure something else out,” Mark said. “Alright?”
I nodded, my face now flushing at how much I had cried in front of Mark. He had only ever seen me break down once before, and I had promised myself never to do it again. I don’t know if it was the cold or the strangeness of the country, or perhaps simply Eliot, but I had felt more emotional here than I ever had in California.
“Put him in my pocket,” Mark said. He turned sideways, holding his front coat pocket open. I tucked Lucky into the coat and he immediately tried to claw his way out. Mark held him down in the pocket by the scruff of his neck.
“He doesn’t like it,” I said. Lucky meowed.
“It’s just for a little bit,” Mark said. “Just until I get down the hallway and into the room. Can you go and be a look out?”
I stepped up into the apartment corridor and peeked into the kitchen, where three of the boys had started up a card game. Inching my way down the hall, I spotted the director’s daughter sitting on her bed. She flipped through a fashion magazine, looking the other way. I waved Mark in and blocked the view from the doorway with my body until he had gotten past me and into the boys’ room. Lucky let out a small meow that I was sure the girl would have heard, but she kept on reading. I turned and mouthed to Mark Thank you! He grinned and closed the boys’ door.
Whew. Lucky was safe, at least until tomorrow morning.
The next day, I snuck out of the apartments early and sat outside on the icy stairs. As much as I didn’t want to call Eliot, I had no other option.
He picked up on the first ring.
“Hello?”
“Eliot?” My voice turned small, shy. I did not want to ask for anything from him.
“Brynn.” A short pause filled the line between us with awkward silence, and I smacked myself in the head mentally for having used his first name. “Why are you calling?”
“I know, I know, I shouldn’t,” I said. “But I need your help. I need you to come take Lucky.”
“I’ve already told the landlady—”
“It’s not that. It’s another girl that has a problem with him. The...the director’s daughter. She hates cats. Can you come take him? Please?” My words sounded strained, desperate. I didn’t know what I could possibly do if Eliot couldn’t take the kitten. Another period of silence passed.
“I’ll be there soon.”
Elated, I snuck inside and to the boys’ room. Before I could knock on the door, however, it opened and Mark peeked out with eyes still crusted with sleep. Lucky sat behind him on the floor, his ears perked up.
“I heard footsteps,” he said. “What’s up?”
“I found someone to take Lucky,” I said. “He’ll be here soon.”
“Good. The little guy needs to go out, I think. He’s been pacing by the door. Is it safe?”
I looked back, but the girls’ room door was shut.
“I think so,” I said. Mark opened the door and Lucky darted out into the hallway, circling around my legs in a figure eight and purring. I picked him up and he licked my nose.
I took Lucky out to the front and he darted behind the granite steps. I sat down and waited for him to finish his business. Soon he jumped back up to my lap for petting. Mark came outside into the street, having put on some warmer clothes, and sat beside me.
“My butt is going to freeze to these steps,” he said. He rubbed his hands together, his breath white and warm in the chilly morning air.
“Amen. I thought winter in California was cold.”
“So who’s coming to take Lucky?” He reached over and scratched Lucky’s chin. Lucky rolled onto his back on my lap and pawed at Mark’s hand, his tiny claws splayed fiercely in the air.
“Um, Dr. Herceg.” As I said the name, my heart cramped with emotion.
“Wait, the Dr. Herceg?”
I nodded.
“How the hell do you have his phone number?”
“I—um—” I really didn’t know how to explain it without giving away everything. Mark cocked his head and looked at me curiously. “He met me when I arrived here early.”
“So you can just call him up to say hello?”
“I guess,” I said, my eyes shifting away uncomfortably. “He said Lucky would be okay here, so I think he feels bad about it.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah,” I said. “He gave me a textbook to study, too.”
“Oh? What’s it about?”
We talked for only a few minutes about the kinds of math we thought we were going to have to work on, and I told Mark all that Eliot had taught me about the basis of his work, without mentioning that he had personally taught me, of course. So engrossed in our discussion, I didn’t notice the car pull up until the engine’s sound registered in my brain. I turned to see Eliot getting out of the car.
Mark jumped up and almost ran down the steps to greet him.
“It’s so good to see you again, Dr. Herceg. Thank you so much for this opportunity.” He shook Eliot’s hand firmly. I held Lucky with both arms, trying not to seem awkward.
“Mark, Brynn. It’s good to see both of you again.” He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes.
“Thanks for taking Lucky,” I said. I held him out to Eliot, who took him gently. The kitten looked so small in his large hands. His gaze turned from Mark to me, as though trying to figure out the answer to a logic puzzle.
“He’s a good cat,” Mark said.
“I’ll see that he’s taken care of.” Eliot looked once more at the both of us, then pressed his lips together. “I’ll see you both later, I’m sure.”
“Looking forward to it!” Mark said. I just nodded, and Eliot climbed back into his car, Lucky sitting on his haunches in the passenger seat. Whiskers twitching, he l
ooked back at me through the window and I waved goodbye. Eliot held up a hand, and then the engine rumbled to life and the car rolled away down the street.
“I miss him already,” I said, not sure who I meant. I walked up the steps slowly and watched as the car turned at the corner and disappeared.
“You’ll see him again,” Mark said. “Don’t worry.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Mathematics is the queen of the sciences, and number theory is the queen of mathematics”. - Gauss
We began our work in earnest at the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, and Mark and I spent most of our time in the libraries studying. Despite our intense efforts on the problems we worked on, Mark and I goofed off together just like we always had, and the other students all broke off into their own cliques to study. Everything was the same, but something inside me had changed. In less than a week, I had become someone different.
The academy stood only a few blocks away from the apartments, and so we walked to our study sessions every morning and back every night. After so much time and effort spent studying, I never wanted to do anything but collapse in my bunk at the end of the day. I promised myself that I would go to see my mother’s grave that weekend when I had the time to spare.
Meanwhile, Eliot stayed away from the academy. At first I had hoped to see him during the day when we studied, but always it was the assistants who taught the lectures and worked with us on the math problems. After we learned the fundamentals of the work, the assistants had no further insights to give us, and on the last day of the week Mark and I slipped away to the library to work on our own.
“Could you call him?” Mark said, after we had been stuck for hours working on a single line of the proof.
“Call who?”
“Dr. Herceg. Just to see if we’re right about this part. It seems impossible.”
“I can’t,” I said.
“Why not?”
“If he wanted to work with us, he would work with us,” I said. “There must be a reason he’s staying away.” I didn’t bother to mention that the reason might be me.
“Just give him a call then. If he doesn’t want to answer, he doesn’t have to.”
“Mark...”
“What? Come on, what’s the worst that could happen?” He looked at me with pleading eyes, and I breathed a sigh of frustration. If there was one thing I didn’t want to do, it was to be dependent on Eliot’s help. Really, after everything that had happened between us, I thought it would be best if I never spoke to him again. After all, I had reached out to him, and he had pushed me away completely.
“Come on,” Mark said. “Please?”
“Fine,” I said. The problem in front of us did seem intractable.
The phone rang four times, and I was beginning to think that Eliot wouldn’t pick up. Even though I was nervous to talk with him, I admit that I was disappointed. I wanted so much to hear his voice again. Then, just before the call would have gone to voicemail, Eliot picked up.
“Hello, Brynn.”
“Dr. Herceg?” I said quickly. “Hi! I have you on speakerphone. Mark’s here.”
“Oh,” he said, and coughed. “Oh, hello.”
“Hi, Dr. Herceg,” Mark said. “We just had a question for you.”
“Yes?”
“It’s about the projective algorithm. We’re stuck on one spot.” Mark explained what we had done and where we had gotten stuck. Eliot listened to half of the explanation before interrupting.
“Wait one moment,” he said. “The general case for the second equation you mentioned. It isn’t solved yet.”
“We’re just looking at one specific instance,” I said. “Letting the permutative variable equal one, just for this part.”
The phone was silent.
“And we’ve made some headway on that instance,” Mark said. “But we’re getting stuck when we try to put it back into the original algorithm.”
Still nothing but silence.
“Dr. Herceg?” I ventured.
“No! I mean, yes, interesting. Very interesting, to look at that particular case. I’m going to have to take a peek at that tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” Mark said.
“Oh, yes, yes, of course.” Eliot sounded distracted, and I thought I could hear the sounds of a pencil scratching on paper.
“Did you want us to come in anyway?” Mark asked.
No, I thought. I couldn’t. Tomorrow was the day I had planned to go visit the graveyard where my mother was buried.
“Hm, yes, you’re working now?”
“We’re just finishing up in the library now,” Mark said.
“Would you mind just leaving your work for me to look at tomorrow?” Eliot said. “Just leave it at the main desk. I’ll be there tomorrow morning.”
“Okay,” Mark said, a bit deflated.
“Excellent work, you two,” Eliot said. “Brynn?”
“Yes?”
“Excellent work.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“I’ll see you both later.”
“Goodbye, Dr. Herceg,” Mark said, but the line had already gone dead.
“Well,” I said. “That didn’t help us solve our problem.”
“I’m going to come in anyway tomorrow,” Mark said. “You in?”
“I... I can’t.”
“Come on, Brynn!” Mark was getting pumped up just thinking about it, I could tell. “He said our work was interesting.”
“I know,” I said. “It’s just tomorrow I had plans to go see my mom.” I began to tear up just thinking about it. For the last week and a half, I had let everything else get in the way of the real reason I was in Hungary. Guilt washed over me as I thought about all of the lame excuses I had leaned on to prevent my going.
“Oh,” Mark said. His face drew down into a serious expression. “Of course. I’m sorry, Brynn.” Mark put his arm around me and hugged me sideways.
“Hey, whatever,” I said, leaning into him. “No big deal.”
“I’ll take copious notes,” Mark said. “Whatever he says, I’ll write down, and I promise I won’t do any more work until you’re there.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I owe you.”
I always seemed to owe Mark. Especially once in college, especially after what happened at that party, I already owed Mark big time.
Last year I had dared to venture out to a party at one of the dorms on campus. I danced and drank with Shannon and had fun, really I did. But then Shannon left and I had to go to the bathroom. Somehow I ended up in the back courtyard of the dorm, where off in the bushes a group of stoners passed around a pipe. I turned to leave them alone, but as I went back through the doorway some frat guy caught me by the arm and pulled me through the open door of a dorm room.
“Hey!” I said.
“Hey, you,” the guy said. “You look like you might want to have some fun.”
“Sorry, I’m just lost,” I said, and tried to push my way out. He blocked my way with his arm and grabbed my ass with his hand. I tried to slap him off of me, but he was too strong, and as I looked up into his eyes I realized what he wanted. Opening my mouth to scream, I kicked out but he pressed his mouth down on mine, stifling the noise. His mouth tasted like beer and cigarettes, and I kicked out with my legs, unable to get out of his grip.
“Brynn?” Mark was in the doorway, his eyes wide. The frat guy loosened his grip except for one hand that still held me tight around the wrist. I tried to speak, but my mouth was so dry that all I could do was cough. Apart from a couple of classes, I didn’t really know Mark back then. We had worked together on one project for linear algebra, that was it.
Mark took in the scene quickly and must have realized what was going on. “Everybody’s waiting for you to go out.” He turned to the frat guy, whose eyes were glazed with alcohol and hate. “Come on.”
“Okay, yeah, let’s go,” I said, but the guy didn’t let me go.
“We were just having some fun,” the guy said. H
e started to close the door, but Mark stepped forward and blocked the door with his foot.
“Her friends are waiting,” he said firmly. The guy looked at him like he wanted to kill him, and he probably could have. He stood at least a foot taller than Mark, and his arms felt like pure muscle, the way his hand circled my wrist like iron shackles. I could tell Mark was scared, but he stood fast.
“Let me go!” I cried out finally, and the guy shoved me out the door and into Mark.
“Fatass bitch,” he mumbled.
“What did you say?” Mark stepped between me and the guy.
“It’s okay, Mark, let’s go.” I pulled frantically on his arm. The party—and safety—beckoned just down the hallway. “Please, let’s just get out of here.”
“You heard the cunt,” the guy said. “Fuck off.”
If I hadn’t pulled Mark two steps away, he would have swung at the guy, I’m certain. But I didn’t want anyone to get hurt because of me. The door slammed and we walked down the hallway.
“You okay?” Mark said. His voice trembled.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks,” I said.
He had tried to convince me to report the guy, and eventually I had gone to one of the deans and filled out a form. I didn’t hear what happened with the guy, and I never saw him again. But the fact that Mark had stepped forward and stood up to a guy almost twice his size—that was something. Not a lot of people would do that, especially for a girl they barely knew.
I snapped out of my thoughts as Mark was finishing a sentence. “...see what happens?” He was looking up at me eagerly, his dark eyes sparkling.
“Sorry,” I said. “What was that?”
“Do you want to try it as an inverse function, the way the assistant was showing us? We could see what happens when we try it backwards.”
“Huh,” I said. “Yeah, that sounds good. Maybe just a couple more minutes. I’m pretty tired.”
“Me, too,” Mark said, although he seemed buoyed up with enthusiasm now that Eliot had talked with us about the problem.
I bent over to the page and got through the first part of the proof without any trouble, then got to the hard section. It took some manipulation, but eventually I got everything reduced to a simple two-part solution. No way, I thought. Hope rose up in me as I double checked all my work to make sure it was right. I couldn’t get excited about this. Not yet, not until Mark had seen it.
