Rich Man

What I never understood about Nathaniel was his quirky kind of happiness whilst it was obvious to me that the man was a true cynical pessimist; commonly characterized by his consistent negativity toward the habits of humankind. However, he was a man of great intellect who taught me lessons no ordinary tutor was capable of. Combined with the affection of a makeshift father, he was more than a child could ask for.

He had this knack for making me smile, even while droning on about some mathematical subject that I absolutely loathed. I was never a fan of statistics and numbers, but somehow he found a way to make it interesting; gripping even.

"Have you been studying, Amanda?" he asked on a regular basis.

My answer was always the simple nod of the head. After all, when I wasn't reading and listening to music, I was talking to him. "We're beginning social morality, right?"

At this, Nathaniel sat before me with a few books in his broad lap, reading glasses lightly perched on his nose. His steely eyes flickered to mine; completely captured my attention with a dark intensity. I should have taken his words for their weight.

"Be warned; you've read through world history, chemistry, and physics. You know the human anatomy, why we cry as children and what drives us to harm one another. Tonight we'll be exploring the kind of psychology that will change the way you view all of humanity; be careful."

Patrice's throat clearly dried out as soon as I requested another story, but I held his gaze. There was something about this time, this story, that was unlike any other. His voice cracked at the sound of my subtle response, "Don't worry, I just... Want to know something about you no one else knows. Tell me a secret."

And for the first time he appeared completely human; flush in the face and raw, his insecurities visible on his warn skin. But I didn't question it, not even or a second, because of the way that he immediately hushed and watched me. It was as though he was asking me with his eyes, "Can I trust you?" but the hesitation he felt was so significant, his entire body would shift in a terse, awkward, movement.

"What's going on in your head, right now, kid?" I asked softly, only loud enough to really grip his hearing. Everything about his body language, body propped on his knees via his elbows, consisted of nervousness, but there was something in the way he watched the ground that had me staring. Animalistic eyes scavenged the floor; senses at a new high, I thought he was simply avoiding eye contact, searching the floor for answers to make himself seem the least weak, but his gaze lifted with hesitance back to me, and without further hesitation, he began.

The night Nathaniel taught me about utilitarianism and social psychological morality, I lost all sense of my ethics. Suddenly we were able to play god, a deed he strictly forbade me from attempting.

"Playing God is a mockery to all those with faith in the world; never play the role which you were not assigned, for the slightest err may be your last."

Yet in that lesson, I listened to myself absorb the tales of men wrongly murdered, but for a thing known as the "greater good". And with no higher law directly present to decide what the "greater good" would be, man became the monster; men became gods. Half of my deeply desired a generalized solution to such a mad idea. If I was about to commit an action,completely out of my hands, in which no matter what I did, some number of humans would die, I would have, back then, chosen to take the least number of lives as opposed to the maximum.

And yet there Nathaniel questioned my every move, because in actuality, I was playing the role of God still. When I objected, argued to my highest ability that I had been thrust the power to decide life and death, Nathaniel simply smiled.

"That, my dear, is the end of the lesson. You now understand."

I never really completely understood what he said I achieved until that very moment, listening to Patrice's walls completely crumble. With a deep breath, he sat up and chewed a bit on his bottom lip. "What are we?" he murmured with a surprisingly gentle amount of force between his teeth.

"What?"

"I've told you... So many stories about myself, yet I know absolutely nothing about you. You know every little detail of my life. Hell, you have me down to a science, Ray; What the hell are we?"

Aggression, aggravation, tone unstable.

I watched him with open eyes, a reference to my state of mind, vacuous with intake of information. His thought flashed before his eyes with those simple words, and I began calculating like I always did; desperately attempting to piece together the puzzle of his own thoughts before he could even complete its structure.

"Well we're a lot of things; but friends," I let out in a weary murmur with a strong undertone of authority. My fingers twitched a little in a my lap at the sound of my own voice, but I ignored it. Challenge him to speak. Obviously he's thinking many a thought you don't know. Get it out of him, even if it takes time and a trip upstairs. Just... Listen and coax his words with interest.

A scowl transcended his features, through his body language to his expression. He didn't care if I saw it; this was something he wanted known. A confession was afoot. But is it what I already know? He could be contemplating reminding me of what he used to feel; what he does. Maybe the known feelings for me are what's causing this. Either that or he just wants answers from some questions for me; equal treatment via sexual frustration, perhaps?

"Would you answer a question for me, then?"

My body language shifted slightly. I didn't like the way this was going; suddenly on me, but I was going to trust my gut no matter what, so I listened with a hesitant nod.

"Why are you so interested in me?"

--

"You're in late," Savvy's groggy voice greeted my ear as I slipped in through the door. I had no idea how he heard me. I had been doing what could have been my most convincing ninja impersonation ever and he still caught me creeping in at some obscene time of the morning.

"You're supposed to be asleep, mister," I verbally leered right back, but flung myself into bed nonetheless.

"You guys have fun?"

"Yup."

There was a short pause. "What did you guys talk about?"

"Stuff, people, everything..."

"Sure."

"Ask away, nosy old man," I hummed in return.

I took a pillow sharply to the face. In the darkness, the man adjusted his position and face me, silver pupils glimmering in the shallow darkness. "Well since you know me so well," he began with a quirky smile, "I'm just kind of wondering when you and the girls and everyone will realize that it's okay."

"What's okay?"

"You and Bergy and trusting each other."

A thin smile spread across my tired lips as I watched him in the lacking light. "Elaborate."

"Until you came along, everyone thought trust was some kind of blasphemous act of treason. I just guess, maybe, well... Would you stay here longer? I know you're probably going to leave soon... I just... You've been good for everyone, especially the kid and I've never seen him so infatuated with anything since the first time I saw him play the game... Stay?"

Suddenly my eyes were as wide open as my heart, touched and speechless by his simplicity. For a moment I felt Nathaniel's presence, like maybe my father was directing me. But I knew this was Savvy, the same man who I had to keep in mind for who and what he really was. He may have come across as happy-go-lucky, even a bit socially awkward with the younger guys, but he knew everything about everyone from years of observation.

He doesn't pass judgment, doesn't go for guilt or act like... I don't... How do I answer this?

"You can say yes," he murmured gently, innocence the only word to describe it all.

"I... Savvy, I can't make any promises."

"Then don't, but tell me you'll hang around for my own sake."

"I'm a little young for you, oldie."

"You're also a little too cocky, but give or take about five years of growing up and I think you'll make a man very happy some day."

Before I turned eighteen, the night I began my first Wainright project, Nathaniel told me something.

"Remember, you may know all of the books, all of the philosophers, or arts, but what you will never be able to learn is age. Let your experience build you; do not fight what changes occur without your control. Above all, your mind is the key to all things around you; it is your greatest weapon and most dangerous asset. Use yourself wisely."

I couldn't believe so long had passed since then. Maybe I've recalled him to the point of annoyance, but understand how significant that man is to me, to who I am. Wainright, everyone; they shaped my every being, sculpted the woman I am. Obviously they were only my roots, but they, he, taught me everything I knew about humankind. I just wished he would have taught me more about the power of the human heart.

Because at the moment Patrice and I began talking fluidly again, began a flow of speech that made my entire body relax and my mind stop cranking out thoughts; I knew a smile would lead to a laugh would lead to agreement, but what Nathaniel could never teach me was how much I loved that feeling. I loved feeling so comfortable just talking, like there was no catch to sitting with that boy, who could potentially ruin everything for me.

He was the ultimate double-edged sword. And maybe that's why I liked him so much. My relationship with Patrice was becoming like a new study to me; a study of my own actions and how my heart could affect everything about me.

He was the reason I was no longer trusting technicalities.

And he was the reason I nodded at Savvy and mumbled, "Fine, I'll stay for awhile."