Chapter 24

After School Specials

  “What are you even doing here?” I find myself asking Jess, in what is supposed to be my new class devoted to teaching the violin in Endarian. How did I get in this situation, well let’s just say that the world has it in for me? My shrink suggested about the school needing a violin instructor who could speak Endarian. I then approached General Sharma about applying for the position. Well, I didn’t go to her first. I tried to just apply through the school’s job portal, where the job was listed.

  I fit the job qualifications easily.

Job: Endarian Speaking Violin Instructor. Requirements:

Can Speak Endarian.

Can Play the Violin with a minimum of 80% or higher Skill Affinity.

Can get on to a Military Base.

Mage or Psychic capabilities preferred.

Tasks:

You will be tasked with teaching Endarians to play the violin. This is a diplomatic job and will require a lot of scrutiny and vetting by not only humans, but also Endarians. You will be expected to teach the violin twice a week, during night hours.

Pay:

One cert every two weeks (Mage or Psychic, your choice). Additional considerations can also be made based on availability and performance.

  The job sounded too good to be true. One cert every two weeks? Who could refuse that, especially when I could dictate whether I wanted to get the cert from a Mage or a Psychic? As I needed a lot of certs to graduate, I needed to take on as many of these types of chores as possible. So, I applied, going so far as to scan my thumb to ensure my credentials and who I was matched what was being asked.

  I knew something was off the moment the job portal page paused as it processed my application. Then I felt sort of sketchy at the message that popped up.

Congratulations: Your Application has been accepted and you have been authorized to conduct an in-person interview. You will be called shortly with a time and place.

  The only problem was, I wasn’t called. Well not in the traditional sense. I waited around my room working on various tasks that needed to be completed for my flight exam that was coming up. When I heard a knocking on my door.

  I opened the door to see an Endarian officer on the other side of the door.

  “Hello?” I asked.

  “Greetings. I am the cultural liaison facilitator for the Endarians here on campus. I am here to conduct your in-person interview for the position of Endarian Speaking Violin Instructor.” The Liaison states in Endarian.

  “Okay.” I reply in Endarian.

  She nods. Then looks down to see the violin still stuck to my side.

  “Could you demonstrate your mastery of the craft?” She says pointing to the case.

  I begin to pull it out, when she continues, and I begin to feel like this was all a set up. “Something simple will do, perhaps a few bars to Endar Rising.” She says, though her excitement breaks through at the end.

  I glower at her.

  “Only the Intro, no more.” I state.

  She looks at me as if she wants to pout, but then nods. I close my eyes, steady my mind, then begin to play just the intro.

  After the intro she is breathing heavily, but nods. “Okay, you have the job. Your classes start tonight. Pay will be two weeks from today.”

  With that she left. My first job interview. My first non-military job interview. I should have felt elated at having passed, but now I am here looking at my ex. Well, my future-ex-wife from another time line and universe and wondering what I did wrong.

  This was when I contacted General Sharma who assured me that everything was above board and above reproach.

  “I am here to learn to play the violin.” Jess says, answering my earlier question about why she is here.

  I want to argue with her. I want to kick her out, but in the end I can’t. At least I don’t think I can kick her out. Apparently, this is a huge cultural exchange win for the Academy. I take in a deep breath to calm myself. Then I respond.

  “Fine. Realize this is the last time I will speak in English in this class.” I say, turning around before going to the front of the class.

  Fortunately, there are Endarian males here as well, otherwise this class would feel completely awkward. As it is we have so many students that we had to be assigned one of the four amphitheaters that are used for class orientation speeches and the like. Both Generals are here, Sharma and Fellina, along with several support staff.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  I also can’t help but try to think of why I don't feel nervous that there is a larger than life forty-foot projection of me being shown right behind me. I want to say I felt stage fright, but for whatever reason I just felt numb. I don’t think it is entirely PDD, at least not this time. There is likely something more to my lack of caring about being embarrassed, but I can’t quite place a finger on it. Looking back, even my time in the Heal Boy leotard should have caused embarrassment to me, but even then, I didn’t feel anything. Maybe if I was up here in my Heal Boy costume, I would be embarrassed, but not now. No, this was my element, and I was going to teach this class how to become masters of the craft.

  “Good evening class. You have all come here for one purpose. To pursue the true passion that only can be expressed with the violin.” I say in Endarian, while holding up my violin. I then play the different notes, calling them out as I play.

  “By the end of tonight your goal will be to have played each note at least one time. Any questions?”

  No one asked a question, so I began.

  ***

  My ears were ringing after class. I don’t know if Endarians are just tone deaf, a sadistic race of heathens that like to pretend like they are torturing kittens, or what, but they were terrible. I realized after the first half hour that my goal of getting them to play the different notes was a bit too optimistic. So, I took a few minutes fixing everyone’s form. I would guide everyone’s body to the correct position, guiding their hands and placing my hand over top of a everyone so they knew what a true note sounded like at least once.

  Of course, I should have expected some of the students to take advantage of this. The males especially seemed to want me to move and direct them. Going so far as to smile brightly at the others when it was their turns to be moved into position. The only one I refused to touch was Jess. Now before I am called out for being racist, unfair, or whatever. I did ask her quite clearly.

  “Would you want me to avoid touching you, so I can move your body into proper position?” Placing special emphasis on the word avoid so it was clear what I was saying, in Endarian.

  She of course answered “Yes.” In Endarian. The same word every other student had answered with before I started moving their bodies into position.

  She visibly bristled at when I then nodded to her request, not to be touched and moved on. “Very well, I will respect your personal boundary and avoid touching you.” I replied with a bow. Then I moved onto the next student.

  “What? What just happened?” She asked loudly, in English, as I clearly avoided her and went for the next Endarian student. Where I went and asked her what I had asked all the other Endarians.

  “Would you want me to touch you, so I can move your body into proper position?”

  “Yes.” The Endarian female answered, giving an evil smile to Jess that I couldn’t help but feel thankful for, even though I tried to keep my face neutral.

“What is the meaning of this.” Jess says as she stood up and tried to stalk me.

  “Sit down Cadet Childers. Your instructor asked if you didn’t want to be touched. You said yes, indicated that you didn’t want him to touch you.” General Sharma said from the the corner of the room. Meanwhile I managed to get through moving the rest of the rather large class into proper position by the time Jess, or rather Cadet Childers finally calmed down enough to sit down.

  I thought I was going to have an Opus moment, one where now that I had spent so long moving each Endarian into proper position we would be able to play one harmonious note together.

  “Now begin.” I said, as I gently let my bow glide across the string.

  MEROWRRR.

  A cry of dying kittens and screeching cords filled my ears as I heard them all play many variations of the same exact key. It was at that moment that I realized I likely was not cut out to be a teacher. Maybe if the class size was smaller, or my Perception wasn’t maxed out, meaning I didn’t have to hear every pain filled cord these monsters made.

  They were all so beautiful, and yet they were all either deaf as a species, or something. If they were deaf, it would make sense as to why they seemed to like my singing. Still when the class was over, I met with the Generals. I expected to be fired right there on the spot.

  “That was wonderful.” General Fellina was the first to respond.

  “Wonderful?” I responded back in Endarian.

  “Yes, I could see even from this short stint that you were able to get each student to try to reach their inner potential and let it shine.” General Fellina said. She sounded like she was high, not going to lie. You take the local widow, the one who decided to fill the void in her life with hundreds of cats. Then you mix that cat lady with someone who has unhealthy crystal fetish and that is what the general sounded like. Not saying that this type of personality is wrong. If you are a cat hording, crystal fetish wielding, widow, who is high as a kite, then more power to you. You just probably shouldn’t be put in charge of an army, unless of course that army is comprised solely of cats.

  It takes all my self-control not to roll my eyes, instead I try to exude a confident stare. Then I asked the question that had been hanging on my mind. “So, I have the job?”

  “Yes. Now the only question is, will you keep it?” General Fellina replied.

  Hearing that I was tempted. This first lesson had been terrible, I am almost ready to throw in the towel right then and there and leave my poor ears time to recover.

  “You will of course get paid next Thursday, so only two more classes left.” General Sharma states.

  And like that I realized two things about myself: The first was that I was exceptionally easy to read, as the General knew I was close to quitting right then and there. The second fact I learned is that I am a cheap whore who will put up with a lot of personal degradation to gain a sliver of power. I should have already noticed this about me with the leotard incident, but it took this moment for me to truly realized where my standards stood. Hearing the Generals, I responded the only way I could.

  I want to say that I couldn’t take the payment when I was clearly unable to teach even the slightest of lessons to my students. But in the end, I responded the only way I could.

  “I will see you all next Tuesday.” I shouted out to the students who had all stayed after class.

  “Yes!” They shouted in joy. Then quickly left. Apparently, everyone had stayed behind to hear my answer. In a way I should feel honored, but all I feel is sick inside. Sick knowing that I will be taking a cert for teaching a bunch of aliens to abuse musical instruments. But again, cheap whore, that’s what I say to myself to make the feeling of disappointment go away.

  I soon find myself walking back to the dorm. Then I feel a disturbance, almost before I hear the footsteps clip clopping to catch up to me. In a second, I smell the all too familiar smell of vanilla and honey, and my chest tightens slightly. In seconds she is walking next to me, but not saying a word.

  Silence.

  It is a game of who can deal with the awkwardness. I apparently win, as she is the first to speak.

  “I want you to know, I did what you said. Your brother is an ass.”

  I nod. I knew this, but glad she seems to know as well. “Okay.” Is my one-word response.

  “Okay? That’s it? That’s all you have to say. Why are you so mean to me?” She asks.

  I shake my head.

  “I’m not mean to you. I keep you at a comfortable distance. Mean would be me pointing out your character flaws. Like how you snore or steal the covers. How you always want three dogs but then never walk them. Mean would be me telling you how you always break my heart by going for my brother.”

  I pause as I stop for a second to look at her. In her eyes I can see pain written inside them. “Mean would be giving me that look, that look right there. One that speaks of pain and sympathy, when you are the cause of that pain and sympathy.”

  I then pause as I realize. “I guess in a way you are right. I am being mean. Mean for holding you accountable for pain that you have never actually caused in this lifetime.”

  Badump.

  My heart beats a little faster and I walk on. Fortunately, Jess stays still, which lets me take in a deep breath of relief. At this moment I truly realize why Mel was so angry with what she saw last time. What started this whole situation, really? Mel saw me and realized I still had emotions for Jess.

  The worst part is, even now I realize I want to give Jess another chance. I know this is a different Jess, or at least one who has never betrayed me or my trust. Likely one who never will. Still, I shouldn’t even be thinking these thoughts because I have Mel.

  Mel who has done everything for me. She has changed her entire life to find ways to be with me, and that scares me. I want to find out why, but then the truth hits me. I realize it is the same fear I have with Jess. What happens when she is no longer interested in me?

  “FUCK!” I scream. Instantly a Telekinetic blast rips its way out from me causing a giant crack to form in the sidewalk, right along the path of my voice. As soon as I cause the rift, I feel the slight tingle of resonance energy tingling my mind. The energy feels like little, tiny ants crawling around my brain.

  Staring at the mark I’ve made in the sidewalk I take a deep breath trying to calm myself. Then I think out loud “this is why I shouldn’t be a teacher. STUDENTS!” I say in an annoyed huff.

  With that comment out of the way, I feel a bit better. I might still need to explain the outburst to someone. I mark it, then flag it to maintenance. I mark the cause as “found like this.”

  I am sure there are likely recordings that show me clearly making the mark, but to my excuse there isn’t a drop-down option for, “crazy stalker future-ex-wife cornered me after class to try to start things over for first time this lifetime.”

  So, with that, my hands were tied, and it was already getting late.