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On a Very Special Arthur	By : 8inchCaliper Category: +1 through F > Arthur Views: 6509 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Arthur, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Brain stares at the front of the room, barely standing as Ratburn regards him, trying to consolidate his thoughts. Most likely, he should bring this matter to the school counselor, however; maybe it would only worsen things to mention it to someone else. Brain seems unable to breathe properly as Ratburn addresses him cautiously.

“Uh, Alan, I…” he pauses. “I think you should have a chat with the school counselor. He can better…um…help you with this.”

Brain shakes his head, still not looking at Ratburn. “If it’s okay with you, sir, I’d rather not mention it to anyone.” His eyes rise shyly to meet Ratburn’s. “In fact, can we just forget it ever happened?”

The teacher sighs and perches on the edge of his desk in front of the Brain, watching him quake in his shoes.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” He says in a most understanding voice. “Perhaps it might help if you could confide in someone. Someone who might help you.”

“I don’t need any help, sir.” Alan murmurs.

“Well,” Ratburn shrugs. “Maybe, if you’re…confused… about anything…”

“Oh, I’m not confused.” Brain says in a confident voice. “I know exactly how I feel. I’ve done research – in the library and online. I know what I’m feeling is valid and I’m not a bad person and all that. I’ve called the hotlines and reexamined my earliest relationships with the men in my life, etcetera. I’ve done all the leg work, sir…”

“Indeed…” Ratburn says breathily, somewhat taken aback.

“Yes.” Brain sighs. “So, its not a matter of confusion, however I am a bit dismayed at the object of my affections. I mean, it would have been a bit easier if I had fallen for someone more appropriate, Arthur or even Buster, but it was you….sir…”

“Me.” Ratburn says to himself. “Alan, I don’t know what to…”

“It’s alright, Mr. Ratburn. I hope I haven’t caused any…inconvenience to you. or…discomfort…”

Both Ratburn and Alan blush gently against the pale yellow light in the room. Ratburn goes to the board and busies himself with erasing it while Alan gets to his desk and starts to shove books into his bag. Occasionally his eyes peek up to watch the back of his teacher as he arranges the chalk in the tray and the erasers. He can’t help the way he feels, but he’d much rather deal with this on his own.

“So, I guess I’ll…go home now.” Brain says moving to exit.

“Sure.” Ratburn says, still a bit preoccupied. “Oh, um…Alan?”

Brain pivots to meet Ratburn’s gaze. “Yes, Mr. Ratburn?”

“No more notes, okay?”

Brain nods, forcing himself not to run screaming in embarrassment. “No more notes.”

Later at home, Alan sits down to his desk to write a note to his mother, informing her that he’s preparing to run away from home. He stares at the blank paper, however, and shakes his head slowly. No words will come. His mother wouldn’t take him seriously anyway. Instead, he starts to write about his teacher, Nigel Ratburn, starts to construct a kind of non-rhyming sonnet, just a tumble of words expressing adoration for the instructor. It’s all the things Brain wishes he could say to the man’s face, but that wouldn’t turn out well. Not only is Brain unsure of Ratburn’s sexual proclivities, but also he’d never allow himself to be seduced by an eleven-year-old student. That much is brutally apparent.

Reluctantly Brain abandons the idea of running away but instead devises a sure-fire way to avoid, at all costs, more contact with Ratburn – even if it means calling himself off sick for the next several weeks until the teacher forgets the whole ordeal ever took place.

At home, Nigel Ratburn grades fifth grade math tests, scanning the papers and indicating with a bright red pen, the wrong answers. He crosses his legs at the ankles, first rubbing his heel with the toe of his sock. Friday nights are always rather relaxing for the rat, but he chooses to get his grading done first thing so the rest of his weekend is free to work on his marionettes and other projects.

The whistle of the kettle lets him know his water is ready for tea and he pushes aside his stack of work, leafing them to remember his place, before padding into the kitchen.

His favorite mug is the one made of earthenware, sort of terra cotta, like a planter – but blue. He always pours the water first before dunking the little pouch of tea in, watching satisfied as the water turns Earl Gray brown. He sighs contentedly as he absently scratches his chin with his thumbnail. His mind wanders to all corners of his life, his mortgage payment, his puppet show on Saturdays for the children’s burn unit at the hospital, his mother’s potluck at the Presbyterian Church next Wednesday night, his brake pads. It all seems so mundane – and yet Nigel prefers it that way, a simple, organized life with nothing and no one standing in to muck it all up. Then again, it occasionally breathes new life into his days to have something unexpected happen. For instance, this little incident with Brain won’t seem to dissipate from his mind.

How could such a young boy have such a serious crush on him? HIM of all people! And how is it that Brian seems so well equipped to deal with it? Why does he seem to have such a firm understanding of it all? Ratburn can vaguely remember being eleven years old and not having any idea where babies came from or at least thinking they came from kissing, perhaps. He’d never have entertained the thought of having a crush on a MALE teacher. Well, certainly not then. Of course, college was an entirely different story.

As he sips the hot tea, he feels himself blush at the thought of his first male crush on a professor in college. Incidentally, he’d been too afraid to face that head on then – and he couldn’t fathom having to face it now. He’s always been a loner and now it’s pretty much the same. Its just less complicated to be alone, to have no one to answer to for anything.

Brain is actually an excellent student, Nigel thinks to himself errantly. In fact, he would even venture to say he’s quite fond of the boy, but it could never escalate to anything beyond that. It’d be a sin and a crime – and Nigel isn’t prepared to ruin his life – nor Alan’s. Certainly not for this. Nigel cares for his students – but in a fatherly way… or so he hopes.

Still, it’s intriguing to think that he could have such a profound effect on someone. It’s intriguing, indeed.

In school the following Monday, Arthur notices Alan’s absence.

“Hey Francine.” Arthur calls to his friend in the hall. “Have you seen Brain?”

Francine shrugs one shoulder. “No. But I’m more worried about the grammar test today.”

“Oh crap.” Buster moans. “I forgot about that.”

“Well,” Francine smirks. “Maybe if you didn’t spend your whole weekend with your hand inside a potato chip bag staring mindlessly at Bionic Bunny, you might actually be prepared.”

Buster frowns. “And it was pretzels…”

Muffy approaches the group with her usual air of superiority as she flashes her capped white teeth.

“Hello all. Are we prepared for Ratburn’s grammar test?”

“Not exactly.” Buster stares up at the ceiling as if hoping for a little help from the heavens.

“It’s not like Brian to be late for a test.” Arthur murmurs as he shuffles into the classroom behind the others.

“Well, there’s still time.” Francine says as she gets to her desk. “The bell doesn’t ring for another…”

The ringing bell interrupts her as Ratburn enters the class and shuts the door behind him. He seems chipper as usual in his brown slacks and olive green blazer. He straightens his red tie and glances around the room at his students, not missing the fact that Alan is absent. His expression doesn’t change, however, as he sets his books and pens and pencils on his desk and addresses his students.

“Good morning, class.”

“Good morning Mr. Ratburn.” They all answer, taking out their work folders and pencils.

“First things first: attendance.”

As he calls attendance, they all answer accept Brain and Arthur’s eyes rove over Brain’s empty desk. He can’t help but feel a pang of concern because Brain is never late and he has NEVER been absent. He wonders if Ratburn suspended Brain for that little note incident on Friday. Then again, that would seem a bit harsh to the Aardvark. Ratburn only responds that way to disobedience and laziness. Brain’s situation was hardly any of those, but Arthur can’t be sure how Ratburn would have responded to it.

During recess, Ratburn enters the lounge and eats his lunch of minestrone soup and fruit juice as the other teachers chat and gripe and drink coffee and smoke cigarettes. On the table in front of him is a Better Homes and Gardens magazine, but he isn’t reading it so much as pretending to read. In actuality, he’s obsessing over Alan and wondering if the boy is okay. The secretary marked him as absent after ‘someone’ called him off, but Ratburn suspects something deeper...

Outside, the kids play foursquare and do chalk drawings as Binky climbs the jungle gym with his other hood friends.

Francine and Arthur discuss the grade they got on the grammar test as Buster snacks from a bag of gummi worms.

“Oh well, there’s always next time.” Buster shrugs as Arthur tosses the ball to Francine.

“Do you think Brain is sick or something?” Francine asks.

“Dunno.” Arthur answers. “He seemed fine on Friday.”

“Did you talk to him on the weekend?”

Arthur shakes his head. “No. Not really. He’s usually busy on Saturdays and Sundays.”

Francine shrugs. “Weird.”

When the final bell rings, all the kids file out except for Arthur who packs his bag extra slowly. He doesn’t know why, but it seems urgent that he inquires after Brain. Ratburn might know something, after all.

The teacher is busy packing his things into his satchel and erasing the board when he notices a presence behind him.

“Oh.” He turns to regard the little aardvark. “Hello, Arthur. Did you need something?”

Arthur suddenly feels his nerve slipping away. There’s just something about Ratburn that’s so intimidating. “Uh…um…well, sir I wondered if … if you knew anything about Brain. I mean… is he okay?”

Ratburn shrugs. “Actually, your guess is as good as mine, Arthur.”

“So, he’s not sick or anything?”

“I really don’t know. Someone called him off, but it didn’t seem urgent.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“If I hear anything I’ll let you know.”

“Okay.”

Later as Ratburn is leaving the building for the night, the sky opens up and begins to pour down raining. He dashes to his car, slinging his bag into the backseat before starting the car and turning the heat on full blast. He gives his brakes an experimental push and hears the subtle squeak that doesn’t sit right with him.

As he pulls away from the parking lot, he squints through the foggy windows as he turns onto the street and goes past the blocks leading away from the school, passing neighborhoods until he gets to a clearing. He suddenly has to put his brakes on as he slides to a screeching halt in front of the blurry figure.

Putting the car in park, he slides out and goes around to where the boy is standing, still trembling.

“Mr. Ratburn…” Brain is soaked to the bone, water streaming down his face.

“Alan, what on Earth are you doing out here?” Ratburn instinctively checks the boy for injury. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. Thank you. I was just… I was…” His face is pale and his eyes are red, but Nigel can’t tell if he’s been crying, not with all the water.

“Well, get in. I’ll take you home.” Ratburn jogs around to open the door for the boy.

Brain stays where he is. “No. I don’t want to go home.”

“What? Why not?”

“You’ll tell them. I know you will.”

“Alan, I assure you, I…”

“Just go. Leave me here. I’ll find my own way.”

“I’ll do no such thing.” Ratburn pushes his wet hair from his eyes, getting exasperated at the rain. “Listen, if you won’t go home, then at least get into the car so we can figure something out, alright?”

Brain hesitates briefly before complying with his teacher.

Once both of them are inside, Ratburn turns to glance at the boy.

“So, I take it you weren’t home sick today.”

“You take it correctly, sir.” Brain looks down at his soaked sneakers.

“You called yourself off from school, then?”

Brain shakes his head, still looking down. “I paid a homeless guy five dollars to do it.”

Ratburn sighs. “Alan, do you have any idea how dangerous it is to consort with…”

“You’re not my father.” Brain says in a quiet but angry voice. “I don’t need a lecture right now.”

Ratburn goes silent before clearing his throat. “Right. I suppose you have a point.”

Rain continues to slap against the windshield as Ratburn turns the heat up a notch. Brain’s clothes are sticking to his wet skin. Nigel doesn’t really know how to proceed. The boy doesn’t want to go home, but he surely can’t come home with him! It’d be stepping over some invisible line – especially knowing how the boy feels.

“Your parents will be worried.”

Brain nods. “I know. I just…I can’t go home right now. I’m…afraid to face them.”

“Why? Have you…I mean… do they know?”

“I didn’t tell them. I can’t.”

Ratburn flicks on the wipers and turns to glance at Brain, feeling utterly conflicted. Maybe the boy is confused, and maybe the idea of coming to his house won’t appeal to him after all. “Well, we can’t just sit here in the road forever. I guess…you’ll have to come home with me.”

Brain turns his face away, but Nigel can see his ears as they turn red before his eyes. Hopefully the boy will protest and Nigel can simply drop him off at home, but to his dismay, Alan calls his bluff.

“Sure. Alright.”

tbc
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On a Very Special Arthur