Nathaniel Mordue
May 06, 2020 10:52 PM
Through the Looking-Glass. by Nathaniel Mordue
Dr. Greene's dark eyes were, as always, impossible to read as she studied Nathaniel, who had declined a chair in favor of the window seat, putting a more comfortable distance between them. She sounded very slightly pleased, though, he thought, as she said, "You seem a bit more relaxed than usual today."Nathaniel shrugged. "Exams are over," he pointed out. "I think I did all right in everything. And it's always good to be home, isn't it?"
"So you consider this your home now?" asked Dr. Greene, her pen in her hand, as though she would make a note.
"It's the only one I have," said Nathaniel levelly, looking out the window - he knew little about it, but he knew there were mental magics that involved divining something of someone else's thoughts, and that eye contact helped. He was not exactly sure why this should be, unless it was just that the eyes were literally mostly lenses perched in very close proximity to the brain. He had cut apart some frog eyes he was supposed to have been using in Potions once, to try to see if he could figure out how they worked - if it really was at all similar to a camera - but sadly, living structures were too messy for him, at least, to get much of a grasp of just by looking at them in their natural states. He preferred machinery. "I see that, now."
"What do you mean by that?"
Nathaniel shrugged irritably. "If my mother loved me, she wouldn't have done what she did," he said simply. "I never would have put - wanting to - " he reddened deeply. "Anything like that ahead of her. Apparently, she doesn't feel the same - and there's nothing I can do about that. I just have to accept it. Which just leaves me with Sylvia and Jeremy, and they seem to feel at home here."
She made notes. He resisted the temptation to seize them and set them on fire. It wasn't, after all, as if he had even made that many true statements - or at least, unadulterated truths. The greatest lie was asserting that he thought Jeremy felt at home here; observed more closely, Nathaniel thought his brother was still a little ill at his ease here, too, in his own way. Beyond that....He was still furious with his mother for being so selfish, but she did love him. She just...wasn't bright, and wasn't well, and he was a horrible son for being here right now - but what could he do? Elphwick at the very least had good reasons not to harm her until Nathaniel could take a more direct approach to that situation, and he could not let Jeremy live here with no-one to protect him. How would he know, then, if Uncle took it into his traitorous head to put Jeremy out in the street or something?
"How are things with Jeremy?" she asked.
Nathaniel stared out the window while he considered his answer to this question. It was hard to figure out what to say, what to put onto it....
"Jeremy asked me for advice the other day," he said. "On his own. He spoke to me first."
Another note, ending on a slight scritch; her quill needed more ink. He heard a gentle tapping behind him and assumed she had dipped it into her inkwell and was tapping off the excess now. "And how did that make you feel?" she asked.
"I - " Nathaniel thought he had an answer ready to hand, but it froze in his throat; he could not even remember what it was he thought he had wanted to say. "I don't know," he admitted. "Except that surprised was definitely part of it...he never really...Honestly, I would have thought he'd...It's just...it isn't like him, lately, that's all. I'm usually the one who has to speak first. And to actually ask me for advice..."
“How did you feel about that?”
“That my brother usually prefers not to speak to me, or that for once he did?” asked Nathaniel, making sure to suppress the complex feelings that even speaking of it all brought on – he did not want to go there. It was hard enough to stay calm when he was trapped with this woman anyway. He did not need to have feelings of his own, much less complex, messy ones…that my brother prefers not to speak with me, when I’m going through double hell, between tolerating Alexander and leaving Mother alone with that man, for his benefit? And also my own – but he’s no small part of the reason it’s two hells instead of just the one?
“Either. Both.”
“I’ve told you enough about the first one,” said Nathaniel, a touch curtly. He reminded himself to breathe. “It’s as much of a mess as it ever was, and I still have barely any idea what to do about it. Except possibly buy a joke book.”
“A joke book?”
“I sort of – accidentally made a joke,” he explained. “And Jeremy said he didn’t realize I had a sense of humor, and…it’s hard to tell with him, he always sounds like he’s sulking about something, but I think he – approved? And that was when he asked me for advice – and I hadn’t said anything about his behavior.” He grimaced. “A point to you, Doctor, I suppose,” he conceded. “I mean, I don’t have enough proof of a pattern to say you’re absolutely right, that I should just…let him run amok, and it could be coincidence, but…it was nice. Not fighting. Half the time I think he despises me, you know, so…” He shrugged. “It was nice.”
Dr. Greene made another note. “But?” she prompted.
“I don’t understand Jeremy,” said Nathaniel. “I mean – I’m always trying to help him. It’s what I’ve done my whole life – and he acts as if…” Nathaniel shook his head. “I know, I know. You’ve pointed out to me that I’m not his father enough times, thank you. But isn’t that what all family is supposed to do? Help each other? Sylvia…she doesn’t know about you, but she’s still been looking out for me all year...”
“So you’ve told me,” said Dr. Greene. “And you’ve expressed frustration before about feelings of inadequacy when Miss Mordue notices your symptoms, or seems to you as if she thinks you can’t manage your own social life….”
Nathaniel stared at her. “It’s not the same thing,” he managed finally. “I have always been fine – except for last year, anyway. As soon as I’m – completely better, Sylvia won’t be like that anymore. Jeremy has always been – difficult. He was even like that before we lost our father. He never listened when I’d tell him he needed to be quiet, that Mama had one of her headaches...but that’s, that’s not the point,” he said, waving it aside.
“What I hear you saying,” said Dr. Greene carefully. “Is that your relationship with your brother has always faced obstacles because you felt he should think and behave the way you told him to. The way you did.”
“It would be for his own good,” protested Nathaniel.
“Perhaps,” said Dr. Greene. “Or perhaps not. But try to think of things from his perspective for a moment, and you may see new solutions to your problem. If you were under continual pressure to feel and think and say only what someone else wanted – to reject individuation – to essentially subsume your identity into someone else’s – how do you think that would feel?”
Nathaniel stared out the window for a long moment, resisting the urge to point out that that was exactly why his uncle had hired her - to obliterate Nathaniel's Otherness, to bring him into the fold, a compliant little automaton who would do and say and feel only what Alexander wanted. If he did that, though...for one thing, he might get into trouble. For another...he hated it. He lashed out at her often often enough; was Jeremy really doing the same to him? It wasn't the same, because Jeremy was wrong, but....
"You make an interesting point," he conceded finally. "I'll think about it."
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Nathaniel Mordue
Through the Looking-Glass.
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