The Next Evening
I smiled at the feeling of deja vu, as I sat with Maverick in Wallace's and Lucas's room, hearing the tapping at the door. Once again, Lucas called, "Come in."
Thorne, Holden's roommate, peeked in through the doorway, the uncertain look on his face identical to Holden's the previous night.
Wallace invited him in with a friendly wave. "Come in, Thorne. Have you met Wynn and Maverick?"
Thorne's eyes grew wide. "I haven't met them, no. I know who they are, of course." He cautiously came forward to shake our hands, and took a seat, looking very puzzled.
Lucas started the discussion. "I want you to know, first thing, that this isn't about you, or anything you've done. But we're in a situation where we want to try shifting some roommate assignments around. This kind of thing is always a little tricky, because even in just two weeks, some roommates have developed a strong bond already, and they'd be upset if they had to change partners. Now, whatever you say won't go beyond this room. What we need to know is whether you'd consider rooming with someone else."
Thorne looked very taken aback. Despite Lucas's assurance, I could read in Thorne's face that his immediate thought was that he must have made Holden mad somehow. I decided to clarify. "The reason this is coming up is that we want Holden to start working on a special project, with some individualized instruction, and we'd like him to room with a couple of Second Year boys. Those boys and Holden already know we're trying to work this out, and it's fine with them. If you say no, none of them will find out the arrangement fell through because of anything you said. We'll tell them the Dean didn't approve it, which is sort of true, because he won't approve any move that isn't okay with everybody. So I just want you to understand, you can decide either way and it won't make Holden mad at you. Okay?" I smiled at Thorne encouragingly.
Thorne sat back with a sigh of relief, and a small smile. "I wouldn't mind rooming with someone else. I really like Holden a lot, and he is so sweet, and fun to talk to, but... to tell you the truth, he scares me a little."
I blinked in surprise. "Holden scares you?" Before Thorne said another word, I knew why. I knew exactly.
Thorne responded, "Well, of course, the last few nights we've started practicing hanging, in our room. And when I watch him, I just think, what's wrong with me? Why can't I do what he's doing? I've tried to imitate it, but as soon as I start, then I can't breathe, and everything gets out of whack, and I try to get the rhythm back, like our teachers have been showing us, but it's just totally gone. Holden's tried to help, and I do feel like I'm getting somewhere, but... Anyway, I do feel better about it in class, in the gym, because I can see everybody else is kind of like me. But then as soon as I watch Holden again up close, and then I have to hang with him watching me..."
I smiled at him. "You don't need to explain. I know all about it."
Thorne needed to finish his thought. "I just feel so... inadequate. I've started worrying I don't have what it takes, and I'm having a hard time concentrating on studying..."
I waved my arms, again smiling. "Okay, stop, stop." I sat forward. "Thorne, there's no reason to think you're inadequate. You're just... well, you may be looking to the wrong person for a standard."
Thorne smiled, as if I had confirmed what he had been hoping. "There is something special about him, isn't there?"
I nodded. "We think so, anyway. If there is, we want to draw it out, help him work with it. Oh, I was going to tell you, he said he likes you a lot too. I know you two haven't had sex yet, but it's not anything about you."
Thorne laughed. "Oh, I do know that much. We did kiss once, when we got back to the room after our first hanging class and were really excited, but... well, I get a feeling he's a little too attached to his brother to be ready to sleep with somebody else yet." Thorne shook his head in wonder. "He's already filled up one entire notebook with that diary he's keeping."
Wallace joined in the discussion. "What we need to figure out now is who you might room with. I've been..."
Thorne's eyes shot wide open. "Oh! Could I get in with Samuel and Cecil? I've been eating lunch with them a lot. I think they'd be willing. Or then there's that one room that already has three. I like Errol, and I've been getting a feeling his other roommates are kind of closer to each other than they are to him."
Wallace beamed at him. "Thank you! That saves us a lot of trouble, if one of those matchups works out. Okay, we know Holden is in the library right now. We'll try to get back to you later this evening, but if he gets back to the room before you hear from us, don't say anything to him yet, okay? This still isn't a done deal yet."
"Okay." Thorne stood and gave us a cheery wave as he left.
The Next Afternoon
I sat in one of the chairs in the Dean's outer office, holding the yearbook, trying to make sure I had the outline of what I wanted to say. I had earned a lot of concessions from the Dean recently. But this, I suspected, would be a lot harder than those.
There was no doubt in my mind about the need for what I'd be proposing. Holden and Hamish were going to be outstanding Hanging Boys, no matter what. But I was convinced that, if their training were handled the right way, these two boys were going to be the most important thing ever to happen to the Academy. And I loved the Academy with all my heart.
At present, Maverick was with Marcus, Zuchter, and Holden in their room, supervising their practice, and probably working with Zuchter on a new idea Zuchter had mentioned for bound-feet hanging. I'd been with them for two hours this morning, until it was time for my appointment with the Dean. Holden had done a short practice session in the noose. Marcus's and Zuchter's eyes had nearly popped out of their heads. I could read it all on Marcus's face: Two weeks, this boy has been here two weeks, and I've been here a year, and I can't even do what he's doing!
I had also seen in Marcus's eyes: I will do it. I'll learn to do anything he can do.
I jumped slightly as Tina, the Dean's secretary, answered the buzz on her intercom. She looked at me and told me I could go in.
I took a seat. The Dean smiled at me across his desk, leaning back in his chair, holding a pen he had probably been using before I came in. I returned the smile. "Thank you for seeing me, Sir. I was just now thinking about my first time in here, more than three years ago."
The Dean chuckled, rolling the pen between his fingers. "Little did I know, right?"
I felt my face coloring a little. "Well, you knew I had the potential to make it. I'm really grateful you did."
The Dean gave me an ironic smile. "But enough about me. I know that look. You have a grand idea you want approval for."
I tried hard not to react. The Dean had an ability to read people that was very much like a Hanging Boy's. "Sir, you can probably also tell that I wouldn't be here if I didn't think you'd end up liking it, once you hear it all the way through."
The Dean raised an eyebrow. "So my first instinct will be to say no?"
I sighed. "Yes, Sir. But I know you'll listen. You always do."
"Ah." He smiled again. "Flattery." He sat up straighter, closing his fingers around the pen. "Okay. Listening."
I took a deep breath. "I want to start just by reporting that the roommate switch has gone smoothly. Holden has already moved his things to Marcus's and Zuchter's room, Errol has moved in with Thorne, and everybody's happy all around."
The Dean frowned slightly. "And now I'm getting the feeling that was just the first step in an agenda. I hadn't realized that."
I waved the suggestion off. "Oh, no, Sir, it's not like that. Yes, I'm going to ask for some things, but it's not related to switching roommates. I want to talk about some things that hadn't even occurred to me when we started thinking about trying to change room assignments."
The Dean raised the eyebrow again, and gestured with the pen. "Proceed."
I had tentatively worked out my opening. "Well, to begin with, I'm sure Marcus and Zuchter will be able to handle the extra work without it disrupting their other studies. We'll never ask for them to be taken out of class or excused from any assignments."
The Dean gave me a deeper frown. "But why shouldn't that apply to Holden too?"
Damn him, he's already arguing with a point I haven't even made yet. I decided to try a little humor. With a smile, I said in an I'm-giving-you-a-little-dig voice, "Listening."
He laughed. "Okay. Doing so."
I got back on track. "Sir, what I hope you'll approve is taking Holden altogether out of the First Year class, and letting him start as a new First Year student with the entering class next Fall."
The Dean suddenly let his reclining chair come forward with a thump. With an astonished expression, he said, "You were right. Immediately the word 'no' comes to mind."
"Yes, Sir. And remember the part about how I think you'll end up liking this?"
Reluctantly, he leaned back again. "Go on... Oh!!" His eyes shot open. "Does this relate to his brother somehow?"
I heaved a tentative sigh of relief. Since he'd now made the connection himself, this might make the rest of it easier. "Very much so, Sir. Of course, I've never met Hamish, but I've talked with Holden enough to know that the two of them have sort of a... pipeline into each other's heads. Now, Holden has some amazing abilities, but he is still just an entering student, and he has so much left to learn, and of course his brother will be in that same state when he gets here, just a very talented neophyte. They are both excellent students, and they can succeed anywhere, but in the context of the Academy, they'll learn the most when they're... well, literally on the same page, studying together. It will just be such a huge benefit for both of them to be in the same class." That was an understatement. I could tell that Holden and Hamish were, in a strong sense, two halves of a single person, united by their love of hanging. Now that he was at the Academy, Holden was unable to let the tiniest detail of his life go by without recording it in his diary for Hamish. Ordinary schoolwork, through high school, had been so easy for them that it was only a remote distraction from their concentration on hanging. But once they were both here at the Academy, it was crucial that they become one in their studies. I knew that each of them could be an outstanding Academy student by himself. But I was pretty sure the Academy had never before seen students of their unique potential, and that potential might never be fully realized if they were forced into unsynchronized studies.
"Wynn, we're talking about waiting for a student who hasn't been admitted yet — who hasn't even applied for admission -- for whom we don't have any high school grades because he hasn't sent a transcript, which wouldn't include senior grades anyway because they don't even exist yet. You're asking me to assume he's going to be admitted to an institution whose selectivity you very well know."
"Yes, Sir, but you know Holden. You know he was a straight-A student in high school, and I'm sure he wowed you in the interview. When he left this room, did you seriously have any doubts you were going to admit him?"
The Dean was quiet for a moment. He looked at the ceiling, suddenly reminiscent. "You know... well, you wouldn't know... when I did the choking test in his interview, he said right afterward that he'd noticed I'd only cut off his air, not his arterial flow, and that I was probably really looking for his emotional reaction to asphyxia rather than his physical one. Of course, I know what I'm doing, but I never had an applicant sit there and explain it to me before."
I nodded, as if I'd been there. And I recalled my own interview, in which I'd come to the same conclusion, for a different reason. The difference was, I hadn't said anything about it at the time. "Yes, Sir. And his brother is exactly the same. Straight A's and all that. You know, I can't even get Holden to say which one of them is better at hanging. All Holden ever says is that they both feel challenged to keep up with the other."
The Dean still wore a skeptical look. "Okay, accepting, for now, that Hamish has a good chance of being admitted... I'm sure you're right about it benefitting them, to be in the same class. I'm waiting to hear how it would benefit the Academy. All I can see is that I'll need to house, feed and entertain a student for an entire year without him getting any closer to graduating."
"Well, Sir, right now one thing Holden is really excited about is that he wants Hamish and himself to take over for Maverick and me, doing the performances at the parties. I can see Holden has the potential for that, more than any student I've ever seen other than Maverick, and Holden swears to me he and Hamish can do it." He laughed. "Oh, it would have kind of an extra dimension that Maverick and I don't have. I brought this to show you."
I opened the book I was holding to the page I'd marked, turned the book toward the Dean and set it on his desk in front of him.
I had found it in the library, in a collection of yearbooks from the two dozen local high schools, after my first talk with Holden. "You already know Holden was in the school glee club. Hamish was too. Here's the group picture."
In the photograph, a dozen mals and a couple of femmes beamed at the camera. At the left end of the second row, two redhaired ocelots sat beside each other, holding hands, their faces wearing sunburst grins. The caption below the picture said, not entirely helpfully, "Second row: H. Maitland, H. Maitland, R. Sellers..."
I smiled at the Dean. "You know Holden, of course, Sir. Which one is he?"
The Dean sat with his chin resting on the knuckles of one closed hand. I could see the small movements of his eyes as he looked back and forth between the two boys. "I don't understand. I know they aren't twins. They aren't even the same age."
"No, Sir, but they managed to get an awful lot of the same genes. It does happen."
The Dean murmured, "So it seems."
I knew that the importance of showing the Dean this picture went far beyond suggesting that the Academy could have two seemingly identical twins performing Wynn/Maverick shows at parties. I needed to be able to persuade the Dean to assume that any physical ability that Holden possessed relative to hanging was shared with Hamish. The picture went a long way toward making the case for that.
"And, Sir..." I rushed ahead as the Dean opened his mouth to speak, "Before you ask what all this has to do with them needing to be in the same class, think about the fact that, normally, starting from the time Hamish gets here, if Holden were starting his Second Year then, he and Holden would have two, maybe two and a half years together before Holden's hanging. They'd have to train for months before they could even start doing the party shows, so let's say at most two years of parties, assuming Holden hangs a few months after he graduates. But think about the benefit to the Academy if they could do party performances — followed, of course, by auctioning off their services, like you do with Maverick and me — for an entire additional year. Three years of shows, and auctions, instead of two."
It was time to stop talking for the moment. I looked at the Dean, who sat silent for at least twenty seconds before he finally softly let out a long, drawn out, "Ohhhhhh."
Once I saw he understood exactly what I was saying, I went on, "There's one more part to the idea."
The Dean, leaning his head on his upraised hand, choked back a laugh, and twirled the pen in a go-ahead gesture.
I launched into Point 2, which I suspected would be just as hard to sell as Point 1, though I did feel I had momentum on my side. "I was wondering if you might consider... well, it's something the big universities do. An early admission, for Hamish. Right after he finishes high school — I don't know the date, but end of May, early June, somewhere in there. As soon as Hamish gets his final grades in to you. And does an interview, of course. I'd never ask you to think about skipping that. So he could come here, three months early, before he and Holden both start First Year classes in Fall."
The Dean was shaking his head slightly, but I sensed that it implied only resistance, not a final negation. "What would be the purpose of having him here three months before classes start?"
"Sir, it's unavoidable that Holden is going to be learning a lot of new things that Hamish isn't seeing, even outside of the First Year structure, during the next eight or nine months. In fact, that's what Maverick and I will be trying for — to teach him as much as we can while we're here. We'll do a lot to get him started in the right direction, and he's going to be busy, even after Maverick and I are gone. We'll be leaving him assignments, and a timeline that tells him what we want him to be able to do at various stages in his development. When Hamish gets here, Holden will need some time to get him caught up. I think he can teach Hamish faster than he learned it himself — that's how strong their connection is. But I think it would take Holden at least three months, full time, to pass along to Hamish what he's learned, and they'd need to be free from classes because..." I smiled. "Well, sir, classes and assignments here do take up a lot of our time."
Frowning, the Dean said, "We don't have any precedent for admitting students early..."
I was ready for that, in case, as appeared to be the case, a similar situation along those lines had slipped his mind. "Remember, Sir, I was here a whole month before my classes got started."
The Dean nodded. "Yes, but we admitted you at the normal time."
"Yes, Sir. That's your own rule, though. You could break it if you wanted to."
"And I would want to because...?"
"Earlier start on parties."
The Dean, his head still resting on his hand, smiled. "I should have realized you'd given this a little thought."
He was silent for a minute, and I waited to let him mull over what I'd said. I'd given him every argument I could think of.
At last the Dean sat forward again, but again rested his head against his hand, his elbow planted on his desk. With his other hand he traced aimless circles on the desk with the inkless end of the pen. "Have you discussed any of this with Holden? Him dropping his classes in favor of special training while waiting for his brother, who would then get here early?"
"Oh, no, Sir! I'd never get his hopes up like that. Not before you approved it. I don't even know for sure that he'll go for it, but I really believe he will."
The Dean sat back once more, his eyes focused on the ceiling. I wondered if he was seeing dollar signs up there. I hoped they added up to the right sum.
He sat forward once more, and I searched his eyes for any sign of what he was thinking. Thumbs up or thumbs down. A yes or a no. That was all I needed to see.
My heart sank as he said, "There's really one flaw in all of this."
Whatever it was, I would find a way around it. "Sir?"
"The advantage to the Academy is all based on Holden and Hamish being able to do the sort of performances you and Maverick have been doing for the last two years."
I nodded as emphatically as I could. "Yes, Sir! Maverick and I have watched Holden several times now. We're both positive he can learn to do our kind of hanging show, and he really wants to very much."
The Dean tapped the end of the pen on his desk. "But, assuming for the moment I do allow Hamish to come here as soon as he finishes high school, then, at that point, we're talking about these two relatively inexperienced boys organizing such a performance on their own, without any direct help from the only two students who have ever done it, and without Hamish ever having even seen it, since both you and Maverick anticipate being gone before then. You've said Holden can teach it to Hamish, but this still seems to be a very weak point in the proposal. The whole plan hinges on these two boys being able to coordinate, a year from now, without your assistance, a performance of which we can't yet know they are capable."
Somehow the word "year" clicked in my head. It occurred to me that Holden and Hamish, both of them, had made a sacrifice almost beyond my imagining in order to realize their own Academy dreams. They had agreed to separate from each other, each of them apart from the other half of himself, for a full year. A year. Every time Holden mentioned Hamish, I could read in his face the pain of that separation. But they did it because they loved hanging that much, and wanted so badly what only the Academy could give them.
Nobody loves the Academy more than I do. Not even Holden. If they can make such a sacrifice, I can too.
I opened my mouth, and blurted out before second thoughts could stop me, "Sir, I'll stay and help them."
The pen dropped out of the Dean's hand to clatter on the desk. His jaw dropped open. "What?"
"Sir, I can... I could stay for a while after Hamish gets here, and train them both together." As the offer hung in the air, I became more convinced by the second that it was necessary, and that it was right.
In a voice of wonder, the Dean asked, "How long are you proposing staying?"
I sat up as straight as I could, my hands folded in my lap. Projecting certainty. "Until Holden and Hamish can prove to you that they're capable of doing a show. I don't think that requires getting all the way to actually doing one. I think that, at some point in their training, it will be obvious that they are up to the job."
"Wynn..." He picked up the pen again, and slipped it into his pocket. "I know what your own hanging means to you. Do you really feel this strongly about this project, that you'd put your hanging off for... well, an entire year?"
I nodded vigorously. "Yes, Sir. Sir, you have to understand — the Academy means everything to me. Everything that has ever been important to me, the Academy has made it available to me, has put it there within my reach. Before I hang, before I do this one last big thing for myself, I want to do one last big thing for the Academy. And I can't leave it half-done."
The Dean looked at me for what seemed a full minute, then nodded. "If Holden agrees, I'll put the appropriate paperwork in his file, changing his status to..." he frowned in thought. "What should I call him? An 'unclassified student.' Will you tell me his decision by the end of the day?"
"Yes, Sir. I'll get right on that." I've got a lot to do in the next year, I reminded myself.
Holden somehow managed to jump up and down despite having his arms wrapped tightly around me. He nearly bounced me off the floor. "Yes!! Yes!! Yes!! Thank you, Wynn! Oh! I've got to go write this down!" Instantly he was out the door, pounding down the hallway headed toward his new room shared with Marcus and Zuchter. Just as I'd expected, the prospect of spending an additional year with Hamish, and being his study partner in shared classes had far outweighed the downside of delaying his graduation for a year.
I looked at the open door Holden had left behind. I closed it, and heard Maverick laughing from the bed. "Talk about making somebody's day."
I turned toward him and smiled. "Want to work on the next set of lesson plans for our boys?"
"Sure." Maverick pulled a notebook down from the shelf and took out a pen.