[Excerpt from] The Glade, part V.

[...]
It was approximately a week ago when he decided it was time for a change in career path, and he signed up for night lessons at the local Adult Ed. He would be receiving, after all these years, his credits in the tumor-inducing subjects of calculus, physics and chemistry. A part of him decided that he would receive these credits in order to find a well-paying job and provide a better life for his children, but despite the greater motives, the other part of his shallow ambitions were always due to feelings of inferiority in comparison to his peers, as he felt like he was looked upon as the unintelligent, illogical one. It was rather unfortunate that he felt this way, as his grasp on intelligence besides these very few subjects were far beyond the intelligence of his peers. Ernest was too much of an introvert to prove this.
He walked into the classroom – decorated plainly by a Québec and Canadian flag, a brown aging podium and identical metallic desks set against the backdrop of a plain white painted room, overly lit by bright fluorescent lights – the class seemed lifeless and empty-faced. He thought it rather ironic to be in such a bright room when surrounded by the dullest of delinquents, by the utmost of uneducated and uninteresting people. This assumption decided based solely on their appearances. The drowned out faces of the has-beens, this was until Ernest realized that he could not fit in more appropriately with such a group.
After taking a seat in an appropriate grey seat in the back of the class, Ernest decided this would be the final class of Adult-Ed he would ever attend. He slowly tapped his fingers against the desk, staring around at his uncouth classmates. As he criticized, and convinced himself to be of superior intelligence, he was instantly attracted to a brunette woman sitting in the front-center of the class, wearing a tasteful yet revealing grey T-shirt and converse shoes. Ernest stood up and made his way toward her, taking a seat next to her in the front row. He leaned in toward her desk.
“Hi.”
“Hey,” she replied hesitantly.
“I’m Ernest, you can call me Ernie if you’d like.”
The brunette looked severely uninterested in making friends, as Ernest persisted, despite the age flaws of graying patches gloating from his beard.
“Is it just me or are we the only ones here with a little colour, you know, like a little life,” he asked under his breath.
The brunette stared at him blankly.
“Do you have any more pot on you?” she asked.
“Oh, uh, no. Sorry.”
Ernest turned back, sitting straight and staring at the blank chalkboard as he heard a slight giggling coming from behind him.
“But fuck, I wouldn’t mind having some right now.”
A burst of snorted laughter came from behind him and he turned around to see a small, mousy Asian woman with bright red glasses. Ernest felt instantly aroused by her innocence, her small seductive eyes hidden behind the glasses and her short plaid skirt, lifting above her thigh as she sat. Ernest smiled awkwardly at her. The teacher, a chubby man in his late twenties, entered the class and nervously began teaching as Ernest, sitting in the front row, respectably attempted to retain an air of interest.
During break, Ernest went out for a cigarette, unknowingly tailgated by the mousy woman. The day had been rainy, and as night came in, dampness filled under the cloudy sky of night, blocking out the stars and the moon. It had only been drizzling.
Eileen leaned against the rail of the stairway of the Adult Ed community building, quietly looking through her cell phone as a group of students in the class lit a joint at the bottom of the steps. Ernest approached her.
“Cigarette?”
“No, that’s fine. I don’t smoke.”
Ernest placed his box of Peter Jackson’s back into his jacket pocket.
“But if you wanted to get high, now would be the ideal time,” the woman added, motioning toward to group of men at the bottom of the steps, smoking a joint casually.
“Oh I was joking about that.”
“Okay.”
There was a silence.
“I’m Eileen by the way. I think you’re funny.”
She jerked her right hand in between the space between them. Ernest shook it.
“Ernest, nice to meet you,” he replied.
“What brings you out to Adult Ed, Ernest?”
“I just thought I’d finally receive my credits in math and stuff. You know, re-think my career. Go back to university and get a productive degree. I haven’t been productive lately.”
“What do you do now?”
“I write. Well. I used to be a writer. One book published. Thought I would continue with them, but it wasn’t as easy as I thought.”
“Oh. That’s sad.”
Ernest finished his cigarette and put it out under his shoe.
“I guess. And you?”
“Oh… well,” Eileen began to squirm and looked uncomfortable as her cheeks reddened. “I’m an accountant.”
“An accountant? Why the fuck are you here then! No offence, I mean, are you just visiting the low-lives of this glamorous institution or something?” Ernest asked as he laughed, Eileen following but rather uncomfortably.
“I don’t know. I’ve been bored lately.”
After his first session of basic calculus, Ernest joined Eileen on her bed as they shoved their tongues into each others mouths, breathing heavily and slowly caressing each other’s bodies. The songs of chirping grasshoppers resonated through Eileen’s open window as her air purifier slowly hummed and distracted Ernest from the task at hand. Despite the warmth, Ernest could not help but feel lonely, a feeling which had been far from rare in his life lately, especially when in the company of others.
“I want you so bad, baby,” Eileen barely whispered as he continued to rub her clitoris.
Ernest suddenly stopped and turned on the lamp next to her bed.
“Sorry.”
“What’s wrong?”
“No, nothing. Sorry.”
“Did I do anything?”
“No no, not at all honey. You’re perfect. I… I just forgot to tell you that I’m fucked up, I haven’t, you know, in a while.”
“It’s okay. Can I do anything to help?” she persisted.
“No, nothing. Incurable. I’m, I’m sorry. I’m just going through so much shit right now,” he said, followed by a deep breath. “I just feel that right now, the last thing I need is sex. I need, I don’t know, some inspiration.”
At this point, Eileen roughly began re-adjusting her bra and pants, and put her hair back into place.
“So, sex doesn’t inspire you?” she asked with sharpness in her voice.
“Not anymore.”
“Okay. Well I mean it’s getting late anyway.”
“Yeah I should probably be getting home, the kids are in bed.”
“Wow. Kids.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Mhm, you should probably leave.That sounds best. Responsible.”
“I hope you know it’s nothing personal, I’m just really alone… And the kids, and, you know.”
“Of course.”
They sat up, sitting side to side on the edge of Eileen’s bed, as the crickets continued to sing at their same hypnotic tone. They avoided looking at each other’s faces.
“You know, I’m writing a book now,” Ernest said.
“Oh yeah? What’s it about.”
He hesitated, embarrassed.
“It’s… well. I don’t know yet.”
“Okay.”
“Hey Eileen.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m a mess.”