It was late in the day on a windy Thursday. Greg Van Helsing was reading through an ancient text that Roma lent him, and he was in a sour mood. It was a dusty leather bound tome written in the early 7th century that had bits of information on a variety of monsters, most of which were actually true, based on Greg’s personal experience. It was in latin, classical latin thank gods, and the subject matter, despite being his literal and singular passion in life, was written dryly. Greg found no enjoyment in its pages.
“Primeridian, equator,” Peter sang poorly in the living room. Because he wasn’t taking any classes at university himself this semester, he’d decided to pay his knowledge forward by tutoring a young boy. “Primeridian goes up and down,” he continued singing, the melody clear. The extent of Peter’s tone deafness, just as clear. “Equator goes side to side.”
The boy he was tutoring, Neil, was looking at Peter like he’d just proposed skydiving without a parachute. Greg could relate. He was a nice enough boy, not noisy and sticky and messy like most children. Still, if there was anything Greg hated more than kittens (those adorable, vicious little monsters), it was children.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Peter had mentioned the boy was in foster care, and to please, “tone down your… Greg-ness. Just for the night. I don’t want to freak him out with a big scary monster hunter on his first day.”
“Sing it with me now,” Peter said to Neil, smiling brightly.
“Do I still have to sing if I promise to remember?” Neil asked, looking put upon. “Equator, side to side. Primeridian, up and down. I’ve got it.”
Peter stopped his silly dance that, in his mind at least, went with the stupid song. He frowned. “Your choice, Neil. We can sing it together or you can write it down in your notes ten times. Repetition is almost as effective when it comes to remembering things as assigning a melody or image to information you want to keep.”
Without a millisecond of hesitation, Neil got to writing. Dejected, Peter stopped singing and dancing. Greg grunted softly in amusement. This kid wasn’t so bad, as far as kids go.