Remus, Hope and Saint Merlin’s
August 3rd, 2023
The park bench was a bit sticky, and it was so hot Remus thought the words on the paper would melt off the page, but outside was always better than inside.
Summers in England didn’t get hot, normally, but Remus thought the weather consistency was piss-poor. Birmingham saw hotter summers than most of England, and August 4th was just another, hotter day.
Mum said she liked summer. She said it brought out Remus’ freckles. Remus knew she liked autumn best, though. Mum loved apple-everything.
Remus knew a lot of things. He knew Mum liked autumn for its apples, sure, but he knew she wouldn’t have to turn on the heat for a while. Same with spring- but heatstroke seemed less likely than frostbite, anyway.
Remus wasn't sure what was worse: the blistering illusion of heat with English humidity, or the dehydration. He switched between scribbling notes in the margins of his beaten-up, second hand copy of “The Lord of the Flies” and watching the other children play. He watched a small boy greedily lick his fingers, slurping the remains of a melted ice cream cone. A few moments ago, Remus had watched his father buy him a double-scoop from the ice cream van. It wasn't like Remus was jealous. He was eleven, but he understood what the dark marks under his mother's eyes meant when she came home from the night shift, and why she had to take the night shift. He knew he was lucky his poor excuse of a father wasn't in his life.
He remembered enough.
Remus didn't even like ice cream. But he'd seen how the young boy's father had taken out his wallet, stuffed with cash, without hesitation. He saw the man’s watch, a designer brand he was sure he'd seen in a shop window. No, Remus didn't care for the ice cream, but he knew his mother, no matter how many hours she worked, would never have a pricey, leather wallet of her own. More than anything, he wished he could give her that. But Remus was eleven, and Hope Lupin still had to work the night shift.
He bent his head over his book again, before he noticed a pregnant woman standing over him. He quickly shuffled to the edge of the bench, noticing the only open bench was across the park, but the woman sniffed haughtily before she turned her back to him, muttering about "such a nice area letting in all the yobs." Her floral dress swished lightly in the wind. It looked expensive. Remus looked down at his own shirt, bought at the local thrift store. His trousers had holes in the knees and his trainers were caked with dirt. He took a long look at the book cover, worn and probably older than the little boy eating his second ice cream.
Remus got up from the sticky bench and walked home.
…
Remus kicked a small stone, hands stuffed in his pockets. It bounced on the gravel, glinting in the sunlight. The building structures of the Birmingham slums were brick, all brick. Some were just crumbling walls. In one building, the glass of a window had been smashed open, the jagged edges of the remains on the windowsill sharp like teeth. A greyed curtain hung from the inside swished open, revealing an olive-skinned boy his age.
“Hey, Loony!” Axie called, his dark curls bouncing. He grinned, his glasses going crooked as his nose scrunched up.
Remus had met Axie two years ago in July. He had been so tired running away from the older, tougher boys he had walked right into Axie’s home while he sat on his couch. It had almost ended badly, before Axie’s older sister, Tess, said Remus was too small and far too skinny to be a thug.
In 1967, Axie’s mother up and left the second after she gave birth, leaving Axie to a twenty-something year old drunk that didn’t want to be a father. Axie spent most of his childhood bouncing around from foster home after foster home, until some Samaritan redneck from America adopted him.
“Axe,” Remus grinned. “How’s Uncle Sam?”
“Bah, yapping about the industry again. You know how he is with economics and all that.”
“Careful, Axie, I think I’m hearing a Texan accent.”
Remus dodged a trainer thrown out the window.
"You know he's from Wyoming, you plonker." Remus shrugged innocently.
"Texas, Wyoming, Nevada, same thing. Need something back?" Remus picked up the beat-up shoe and waved it around a bit.
"My trainer, perchance?"
"You can't just say perchance like that!" Remus tossed the shoe back up. Axie caught it with one hand.
"Say hi to Hope for me, will you?"
"Only if you tell Sam I did."
...
Remus took the key off his neck. It hung from a bit of beige twine like a necklace. He unlocked the door and stepped inside.
The overhead light was never on. Everything was a bit dim, but that was ok. It was harder to see the peeling wallpaper. The narrow hallway's wall held a picture of Remus, six years old, and his mother. It was tacked on by a bright blue drawing pin. Remus didn't remember much about that day. He looked happy.
Remus was the spitting image of his mother. That was probably for the best; if he looked anything like his father he wasn't sure how he would be able to stand mirrors, let alone how his mum would look at him. In the picture, they shared the same light brown curly hair, the same freckles, the same heart-shaped face. Hope had a tooth gap, and Remus had just lost his two front teeth. They smiled wide.
They looked the same in that picture, but one thing changed. That photo had been taken a month before the accident.
Remus walked further down the hall. The next photo was when Remus was ten. That felt pretty accurate. It was like he'd lost four years of his life.
Remus knew Hope liked autumn and apples, but he also knew things no child should. He supposed that didn't make him a child anymore.
He walked through the living room. The green sofa was greyed, the window curtains drawn. He turned past the big, potted plant, and headed for the kitchen.
The walls were yellow, faded but it was nice. It gave the illusion of light. He opened the fridge to find a couple Welsh cakes on a plate, wrapped in clingfilm.
Doeddwn i ddim yn gallu cysgu ac fe wnes i wneud ein hoff fwyd. 'Loves i ti, ci bach
(Couldn't sleep and made our favorite. Love you, pup)
Remus didn't smile much. But reading the note, he felt warm and content. He took out the plate and placed in on the counter next to the stove. He loved Welsh cakes crispy.
...
Hope stepped in the door. Her hair was tied in low bun, close to her neck. She hung her blazer on the coat stand. "Remus? Dw i'n ôl! (I'm home!)"
Remus finished washing his plate as he called, "In the kitchen, Mam!"
Hope stepped into the kitchen after a few moments. She set her messenger bag on the counter and smiled at Remus. She cupped his face and kissed is forehead. "Hi, pup."
"Helo, Mam (Hi, Mum)." Remus sat on the counter and crossed his legs. "Sut oedd y tiwtora? (How was tutoring?)"
"You know the Bennet's youngest?" Her voice lilted with her thick Welsh accent. "They just enrolled him in a Catholic private school. Saint Merlin's, I think."
"Oh?" Remus looked down.
"Remus..." Hope said. She didn't sound sad, or trying to guilt him. She sounded a bit firm, a bit empathic. "You could go back to school. I won't rush you, but the semester is starting soon."
Remus didn't say anything.
"Allan ti ddweud wrthyf sut ydych chi'n teimlo, ci bach? (Can you tell me how you're feeling, pup?)" Hope said quietly.
"Dwi’n hoffi bod ar fy mhen fy hun, Mam. Hei, wyt ti’n gwybod (I like being alone, Mum. Hey, did you know) there's an almond-shaped thing in your mind that controls your emotions? It's called the amygdala- Latin for almond. Isn't that funny, your feelings from a nut..."
"If you can pinpoint where emotions are in the brain you'll know being alone won't help, Remus," Hope said sternly.
"Mam, you know what happened last time. It's easier like this."
"For now it is."
Remus looked up, straightening his back. "I know you worry, but I can take care of myself."
"I know you can, but you can let other people take care of you, too. Eddie was good to you, no?"
"Eddie's in a children's home now."
"Doesn't mean he wasn't good to you."
"It's not worth it," Remus said, voice hollow. "Maybe he made me happy. Maybe I could be happier with Axie if I gave more of myself to him, but I don't want to give people that- power over me. Eddie made me happy, but he did hurt me."
Hope sighed. "I know, pup, I know."
"The boys in the Catholic school will hurt me, too."
"Remus, that's not definite."
"Feels like it."
Remus held her hazel eyes, even though it hurt. Hope whispered, "I know."
"Maybe school would be okay again," Remus mused quietly. "Friends isn't what dwi'n poeni amdano (...I'm worried about)."
"Oh?"
Remus swallowed. You don't need to be nervous. It's not Lyall. It's just Mam, he reminded himself. "It's money."
Silence hung in the air like a thick fog. Hope inhaled sharply, her bushy brows twitching slightly. "Remus, you know that is absolutely none of your concern."
"Well, I'm still concerned. I'm not dumb-"
"No, you're not, and that's what scares me sometimes-"
"-so obviously, I'm going to notice things, like how we never turn on the big light but keep it high enough so we don't get eye problems. We get thrifted clothes and second-hand things and we don't go to restaurants unless I ask, for some reason-"
"Remus, you are not supposed to know these things. You're just a boy, and boys your age are supposed to be dumb and happy-"
"I'm happy! Of course I'm happy! I don't need to be stupid to be happy, Mam!"
They stared at each other, looking into a mirror, two sides of the same coin. A woman trying to protect her son from burden, and a son trying to protect his mother from what he thinks is himself.
Hope stepped back absentmindedly, trying to collect her thoughts. The dark circles under her eyes should not have been so dark for someone in their late twenties. The dark circles under Remus' eyes weren't supposed to even be there, not until he was fifteen and cramming for finals.
As she stepped back, Remus flinched. She's afraid of you. She can't stand you and your thoughts. Why would you ever tell those things to her? Why would you think? She can't stand anything about you. She hates you. She hates you. She-
"Remus? Pup, what happened?"
Remus' voice cracked as he said, "Nothing, Mam. I should've have been so rude-"
"What are you talking about? Your points were valid? Do you think I'm mad at you?"
He violently shook his head, grasping at his hair. "No, no, I'm fine-"
"You can be, if you tell me what happened. I am your mother, I'm here to help you."
"Nothing happened and I don't know why I'm acting like this!"
"Acting like what, pup?"
Remus wanted to talk to her, he really did, but the words were stuck in his throat.
"All you did was step back, and I just-"
"Oh, pup, I'm not going anywhere." She wrapped her arms around him. How she knew what he was thinking, Remus will never know.
"I'm sorry-"
"No."
"But I-"
"Sut i!"
Remus laughed. "But the way I reacted was dumb-"
"Sut. i!"
“Fine!” Remus laughed. “Can we talk about it though?”
“Alright pup.” Hope gestured for him to sit at the table as she pulled up chairs for him and herself. “So what do you think of going to school?”
Remus sat, watching Hope untie her hair. “It could be alright, I guess. You wouldn’t be telling me about it if you didn’t think it was good for me.” She nodded. “What’s the school like?”
Hope’s eyes sparkled, just a bit, but it might’ve been a trick of the amber afternoon sun. “It’s a very lovely old school in the Scottish highlands. It’s like a castle.” She rummaged through her bag and fished out a brochure. “There are four houses; Godric, Rowena, Helga, and Salazar. Let’s see…oh.” Her brows sank a little.
“Mam?” Remus asked? He touched the pamphlet with the pads of his fingers.
…in the 10th century, Saint Merlin and Saint Morgana founded two boarding schools for…
“Oh,” Remus said quietly. “Well, I…”
“Ci bach, it’s alright. We’ll figure something out.” She turned her head to the window. “What do you say to visit to Nain’s and Bampi’s?”
Remus laughed, his mind still a bit troubled. “That’s three hours away!”
“Ah, details!” Hope grinned mischievously.
It was like the world spun twice as fast, and soon enough, they were in Wales.