ikissdhimbck | OOM: Green Lake, Doc's visit (cont.)

Entry tags:

OOM: Green Lake, Doc's visit (cont.)

It's a bit foggy out by the lake this early in the morning. Texas in July doesn't get mornings that are too terribly chilly, but as the warming air hits the cold lake water, a fine layer of mist blankets the glassy surface, and curls into the grassy shore.

Katherine is sitting in the dewy grass, her back against an old oak tree. It is the very spot she had pointed out to Doc a few days previous. She wasn't sure how it would look if Doc met her that morning at her house, or even if she came again to the Hawthorn's front porch. She hadn't wanted him to come alone to the schoolhouse, either. So she had invited him to meet her there, by the lake, in public but at the same time... not.

The noise of crickets and bullfrogs is in the air, and the book of Poe Doc had lent to her those few weeks past is in her lap. She's scribbling in the back, on that blank page every book has, though Doc's handsome cursive is already covering most of it.

When he arrives, that's how he'll find Katherine: comfortable against the trunk of that tree--her tree--book balanced on her knees as she reads.

.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Katherine's lips quirk into a smile, and she raises her eyes to his face again.

"Yes. I feel my day is benefited by starting it with a little fine poetry."

She doesn't mention that not all the poems she read were in fact by Poe, but they were in the book, so.

She glances out toward the lake and the rising sun.

"The morning's getting on. Shall we make our way to the schoolhouse?"

Doc offers his arm to her with a polite, small nod.

"I think that would be an excellent course," he says.

Once they are on their way to the schoolhouse, he continues the conversation, answering a question she wondered about earlier.

"You know I haven't had a chance to teach since the day I got arrested," he comments. "I'm afraid I might be a little rusty...how do you normally start off your day? I don't want to mess with the plans you have for the lesson..."

"I'm sure you'll do just fine," she smiles in reply, patting his arm with her free hand. "All the children were quite taken with you, and they're good students. Patient. Polite. You shouldn't have any problems with them.

"We usually start off by reviewing what we learned the day before. They'll recite their letters for me, or we'll run through our maths. I'm perhaps not as strict as most; I find my children learn easier when they're comfortable, so I try to let them have a say in what we go over for the day. We never have a terribly rigid curriculum."

In other words, Doc, feel free to do your thing.

"Besides, the children know things will be a bit different with you teaching them today. They're eager to be instructed by a real New York City teacher," she chuckles.

Doc's still figuring out just what exactly that thing is going to be.

"Well it's not as if a New York City teacher would be any different, we're all teachers."

His plan is basically to let her start off and then he'll get started with his lessons after they've reviewed, at this point. Unless that changes in the near future.

"Must've danced with half your class," he says. "And you took care of the rest."

"Try telling that to a young one who's never seen the outside of this county," she smiles patiently. "It's a wonder they don't think you're a titan."

She chuckles at the memory of last night, hugging the book of poetry a little tighter. "You seem to have struck the fancy of quite a few of the women in this town, my students not least of which."

But, judging by the blush on her face, not most of which, either.

"Suppose I have seen more of the country than most folk," he admits, with a bit of a laugh. "Even if most of it was just a blur on horseback."

He glances over at her then, at that blush on her face.

"Well even if I've struck the fancy of a number of the ladies, there's only a certain one I'm interested in, t'be honest with you."

Maybe a little too forward, but he'll blame Milliways for that.

He'll notice the blush in her cheeks deepen a little, a shy little smile forming on her lips.

She looks up to catch his glance. "I'm sure they'll all be very disappointed to hear that," she says quietly, before her timidness overcomes her and she has to look away again.

"And envious of the one, to be sure," she adds after some time, unable to restrain a broad smile.

"Well I'm sure she can handle it," he says, giving her an even look, but the smile is tugging at his lips and the grin threatens a little. "She's an awful strong young woman, if you ask me."

Doc follows her up the way to the schoolhouse, making certain to give her the chance to duck away from his eyes without feeling awkward.

And that opportunity is not only taken, but appreciated as well. She's forced to bite the inside of her lip to keep from smiling too large, embarrassed by the compliment.

"She sounds like quite the catch," she manages to quip, playing along though inside she's trembling.

She's not sure whether she is grateful or sad when they reach the schoolhouse and ascend the steps inside. She props the rickety old door open, not only for propriety's sake while she and Doc wait alone for her students to arrive, but to air out the stale old room.

Doc lets his fingertips graze the desk surfaces again as he makes his way up towards the front of the room, and she might notice the way he gets a little bit quiet as he glances around the schoolhouse again.

It's not stale. It might be dusty and there are a few pieces that could use a spot of paint, a few patches to the roof, a good sweeping here and there but to him...it's a schoolhouse. A real, proper schoolhouse.

"I know I'm not the only one who thinks so," he admits.

"Is that so?" she asks, eyebrows arched, though her eyes can't quite manage to meet his; every time they do, her cheeks flame up, too hot.

But she does watch him carefully as he slowly wanders through the room again. She smiles at the tender little way his fingers graze the surface of the desks as he moves past, herself all too familiar with the action.

There's something deep and moving about a schoolhouse. Something only an educator can really feel.

"Fond memories?" she asks quietly, after quite some time of hushed observation.

"Yes," he nods a little and then pulls the strap of his bag off over his shoulder, moving to set it on a spare chair near the wall. "You know, it's the little things. Not just bein' back in the schoolhouse or the idea of teachin' students again..."

Doc approaches the blackboard and touches the sill and the white dust with his fingertips.

"Watchin' the boys writin' their letters and the smell of chalk just brings it back," he admits, before he claps his hands together and brushes them off.

She regards him patiently with compassionate eyes, nodding gently when she thinks she understands.

"The scratch of chalk as it taps the blackboard, and the taste of a good, sweet apple," she adds with a reminiscent little smile. "Reminds me of my time at Tulane."

She's quiet for a moment.

"I can't imagine what it must be like. Being stuck someplace, far from your home. Far from your children."

Doc glances over at her and smiles a little, with a hint of a nod.

your children

If only she knew.

(Now's not the time to bring up his son.)

"It's not easy," he says finally. That's it, really. It's not easy at all. "Though I wouldn't say I'm far from my home. I haven't really..."

Had one? He had one with Tunstall and the rest of the boys.

She dips her head to the side and peers at him with unflinching eyes. They're urging him to continue, but she doesn't say a word. She doesn't want to force him, if the subject makes him uncomfortable.

She can guess at what he might have said, though, and the idea of him with no place to feel secure makes her sad.

Her eyes probably say as much without her even having to speak the words.

"It's been a long time since I really had a chance to put down roots. I started back in New York City...I just could've used more time. But on the other hand..."

Doc glances back at the open door and makes sure nobody is really within earshot before he continues.

"On the other hand, there's somethin' that I love 'bout it. There's just this...this feelin' that I get when I'm ridin' hell-bent for leather and they're gettin' closer and you ain't sure if they're gonna catch you, and when you do git away..."

He pulls in a breath and shakes his head, a grin on his face.

"Best feelin' in the world."

If he was seeking her rapt attention, he got it. She'd hate to know what she looked like just then--probably like a little girl at her father's knee, listening to ghost stories.

Very slowly a smile spreads across her lips and reaches all the way up into her round eyes.

"I'll try not to feel too sorry for you, then," she teases.

(And that's her most polite way of saying 'OMG NO WAI IZ SO JEALOUS!!!1')

Doc laughs at that response, and ducks his head.

"Yeah," he teases himself. "Respectable schoolteacher from New York City, all right."

A beat.

"That reminds me, I gotta take you out ridin' at the bar once we get back," he reminds himself, and her.

She laughs as well, partly out of embarrassment and partly out of genuine amusement.

"We all have our little quirks," she reminds him, bowing her head shyly.

But then he mentions going riding back at Milliways, and she looks at him again with shining eyes.

"That's right!" A slow-spreading smile. "I would love that."

"Some of us are just a bit more quirky than others, I suppose," and he nods. "When we get back to the bar, we'll go out and it'll be a proper tour of the grounds we didn't get to see before."

It's a promise.

Doc hears young voices in the distance and he laughs a little.

"Dollar says they talk 'bout the picnic for the first half hour," he drawls.

"That sounds lovely," she smiles.

It's a promise.

As Katherine moves to the doorway to greet her children as they come in, she turns to smirk at Doc.

"I'd be a fool to take that bet."

The young ones file in with polite greetings of "Good Morning, Miss Katherine," and "Good Morning, Mr. Scurlock," finding their seats at their own lazy paces. They're laughing and chattering and one boy has a thick paper airplane he's trying to commit to flight.

The youngest of them all stands at about 3'7", a gray derby hat on his head, and he has to clamp it down with both his arms as he rushes to the front of the classroom, to where Doc is standing, so it doesn't fly from his head.

Based on the chatter than he can hear as the children arrive and make their way inside the classroom, she would be a very large fool to take that bet.

He nods his greetings to the students as they walk in, as well.

Doc has a feeling, about that gray derby hat. He can sense that it will see many days of adventures on that young boy's head, and that makes him smile as he squats down to greet the boy as he runs up.

"Morning, Master James."

He tips that hat back a little to see his eyes.

"You look very ready for school today."

"Mornin', Misser Scurlock," comes the small voice. He nods jauntily to show he is a big boy now and can indeed sit for a whole day in school.

"Miss Katherine says yur gonna read to us!" he cries, eyes bright beneath that hat.

Katherine has made her way to the front of the room by this point, and she places her hands gently on James' shoulders. "If he so chooses," she corrects, smiling at Doc.

"And you know the rules, James. No hats in class. I'm sorry, but you'll have to hang it at the door."

The pout he manages is masterful. Katherine is almost impressed as he trudges off to do as she instructed.

She gets her students settled and orderly, each sat primly at their respective desks, and runs through the beginning of her lesson.

"Most of you made the acquaintance of Mr. Scurlock yesterday, at the picnic. For those of you who didn't find the opportunity, he's come to visit us today from New York, and he's agreed to handle your lecture for the day. Now, I expect you all to be ladies and gentlemen, and show him the proper respect and honor."

She turns to smile at Doc.

"If you would like to open the floor to some questions, I'm sure everyone would love to get acquainted before we begin."

Doc's quiet as she begins the lesson for the day and as she runs through it, and he's welcome for her taking charge. It is her class, after all, and the time he can merely observe is appreciated because it means he can remember how to do this.

He's a little nervous, it's odd, almost. He wasn't really nervous picking up a rifle again, but standing in front of a class is almost nerve wracking experience.

There are a few children he doesn't quite recognize, so the questions are a good place to start.

"I answered quite a few yesterday," he agrees, but he nods a bit in regard to opening the floor. "But I'm always up for more."

She had anticipated he might be a little nervous at the onset, so she tried to get the ball rolling as best she could. Now as she moves past him to take a seat in the corner of the room to observe, she gives him a look. It's one of those clear, unspoken exchanges shared between two comrades.

'If you need me, don't hesitate to let me know.'

She's sure he'll do fine, though. Even if his nerves get the better of him, she knows her students well enough to know they'll carry him through. They aren't shy.

Which is evidenced by the first student who raises his hand, and upon being called on asks: "How'd you get that scar on your hand?"

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject