Bad Moon Rising
Wesley paid as little attention to his tutor as he felt he could get away with. It was all things he had already been taught anyway. His mind wandered back to the man he had meant to speak to his father about and mentally cursed himself for not bringing it up when he had been reprimanded that morning.
“James?” His tutor’s voice pitched a little higher than usual as he asked for Wesley’s attention again.
“Arthur.” Wesley replied cooly
“Why are you not paying attention?”
“Perhaps because I know all this and as such, I am exceedingly bored.”
“Well there is no need to be so rude about it but seeing as how you’re so sure you know the topic so well, why not tell me everything you know. Then, I can move on and teach you what you don’t know. That way I can feel good about getting paid and you can learn something that will hold your interest.”
“Very well then. The First Amendment to the United States Constitution prohibits the making of any law respecting the establishment of religion, impeding the free exercise of religion, abridging the freedom of speech, infringing on the freedom of the press, interfering with the right to peaceably assemble or prohibiting the petitioning for a Government redress of grievances. It was adopted on December 15, 1791, as one of the ten amendments that constitute the Bill of Rights.
As for everything else I know, I would be more than happy to write you an essay of some sort and get it to you tomorrow because I believe that our time is up. Honestly, if my father would insist on continually changing my tutors then he might at least keep them up to speed on what I know and what I need to be taught.” With that, Wesley hopped off his seat and made for the door. “I would like to get some lunch and have a little time with my sister and grandfather before my math tutor arrives.”
Arthur stood with his jaw almost on the floor. A six year old who knew enough to write an essay on the Bill of Rights was not what he had been told he would be dealing with. On one hand, Arthur believed six year olds should be too busy being a child to know that much about such things but on the other hand Arthur also believed that American children should be taught all of this as soon as humanly possible because too few people in America really understood their rights and the documents that give them.
---
“Afternoon James.” Harry greeted his grandson and was treated with a rare and genuine smile from him in return.
“Good afternoon Grandfather.” Wesley took a seat at the small card table where Arietta and their grandfather were sitting playing snap. “May I play in the next game?”
“Of course.” Harry told the young boy.
“I have nearly won anyway so it won’t be too long till the next game.” Arietta grinned.
“I see. Well, have you had lunch yet or would you like me to ask Mr Skrit to make enough for three?” Wesley said as he made to stand.
“Nah, you stay sittin’ kid. I’ll go tell Skrit, you two relax a little.” Harry told them and stood quicker than most people his age would be able to.
“Okay. Thank you grandfather.”
Harry just nodded and went off to ask Mr Skrit about a couple sandwiches and some fruit.
“How was Politics?” Arietta asked.
“Boring. The new tutor is a complete imbecile.”
“Oh.” There really wasn’t a lot more Arietta could say to that.
“What did you spend the morning doing?”
“Not very much.” While Arietta relayed her morning to her brother, Harry returned with some lunch for the group.
The group played cards for about an hour when Charlie, Wesley’s maths tutor interrupted. “Sorry wee man. Still, sooner we get started, sooner you’re done eh?”
Wesley nodded and laid down his cards. “See you soon Ari, grandfather.”
Charlie lead Wesley back into the small classroom and pulled out the seat for him to sit in. “How are you today James?” She asked him as she pushed the chair a little closer to the table and went to sit down in her own chair just beside him.
“Quite well, and you Charlie?”
“Oh, cannae complain.” She grinned and placed her bag on the table. Charlie was a young scottish woman with brown eyes and hair a dark shade of red. “Right, your father wants us to go over fractions today but seen as how I know you know them like the back of your hand, let’s look at your six times table and some basic equations. Sound fair?”
“Certainly.”
James Sr valued his son and daughter’s education above all things. More so his son and would be heir but he also knew the importance of a well educated young woman who would be able to use a whole other skill set to bring in business.
For that reason Wesley, and soon Arietta, had lessons all week and most weekends too. He would be taught Law and Politics, Maths, English, a variety of languages and of course the running of the business. Arietta would soon find herself learning very similar things along with continued studies in more womanly subjects.
Five out of seven days of the week, Wesley would have maths for two hours. This was a subject most important to James Sr. As his son grew up more would be added to his learning regime and it would become more strict.
---
It had been a long and day and the hours were dragging. But then, Wesley hadn’t had much more than five hours sleep so it was probably just exhaustion.
That night at dinner, most conversation was between Mae and James. Halfway through the meal James Sr put his napkin down and cleared his throat.
“Children, Father. I have a made a decision that I would like to communicate to you. In order for me to keep a closer watch over new business interests and certain dealings it has become clear that a change of scenery may be required.”
Arietta and Wesley were listening keenly - they both knew too well what would happen to them if their father believed them to be ignoring him. - But Harry continued to eat up until the phrase ‘change of scenery’. That was when he put down his cutlery and levelled James Sr with a look of distaste.
“You’re kiddin’ me. Right?” He sneered.
“I am not joking in the slightest. We will be moving house within three weeks. It will be smaller accommodations so I would recommend packing lightly.”
---
“Anatoly! Anatoly,проснуться.” Vladimir nudged his brother.
“да?” Anatoly rolled over on the thin mattress and faced his younger brother.
“He is gone. He did not come home last night.”
“Do not get excited brother. He has left for weeks before and still come back to haunt us.”
It didn’t do for Vladimir to get high hopes about their scumbag of a father leaving them. They were always crushed, and more often than not beaten out of him. Looking around the hovel in which they lived Anatoly promised himself that this would not be all for the Ranskahov brothers, they would ascend to something better. Something glorious. Side by side as brothers and with their Soulmate.
This would not be how they lived.