Chapter Text
The idea of Nangilima comes from the book The Brothers Lionheart. In the book, “Jonatan and Karl set up a camp for the night, and Jonatan explains that during their flight he was burned by Katla's fire and that he will get paralyzed as a result, and he does not want to live like that. When Jonatan can move only his arms, he tells Karl about the land that lies after Nangijala called Nangilima, a land of light where there are only happy adventures. Karl does not want to be separated again from his brother, so he carries him on his back to a cliffdrop. Karl makes the jump, vowing never to be afraid again, but is cut off as they reach the bottom of the gorge. Then the narrative jump-cuts to Karl crying out jubilantly: "Oh, Nangilima! Yes, Jonatan, yes – I see the light! I see the light!"
Eventually, Lucy and Tim will work their way toward a time of light and happy adventures, but their journey will be a long one. I hope you stick around for the ride.
Friday, October 7th, 2022
Lucy takes the tutoring assignment because she doesn’t want to be in her house for even a second longer than she has to. She wants to get the fuck away from her parents and the yelling and the shame and the little box of razors she keeps in the far corner of her top drawer.
She has no idea, when she accepts the extra credit, that it’s going to change her entire fucking life.
“He can be… grumpy,” her English Lit teacher says, and Lucy winces where she’s standing in the doorway, her books clasped to her chest and her heavy backpack weighing her down.
“So he’s an asshole?”
Luna smiles at her and chuckles softly as she shakes her head.
“No, he’s a good boy deep down. He’s … like a burnt marshmallow, really. All crispy and rough on the outside, but inside he’s just gooey and sweet.”
Lucy offers her teacher a small smile and then bites her lip. She rocks back and forth on her heels as she studies the paper she’s holding in one hand. It’s written in Luna’s soft, flowing script, the same handwriting that decorates Lucy’s papers with glowing commentary and more praise than she’s ever heard from anyone else in her entire life.
Timothy Bradford
530-453-3399
“He’s a senior, and he won’t graduate if he doesn’t pass Contemporary Literature,” Luna continues, and Lucy watches as she organizes the papers on her desk and reaches for her bag. It’s the end of the school day, and while Lucy dreads leaving the hallowed halls of Mid-Wilshire High School each afternoon, she knows Luna has a husband and a daughter to go home to. “His counselor suggested it for his final year because he’s always struggled in English, but his grade is below 60% right now and if he doesn’t pull it up…”
Lucy nods.
She knows.
If he doesn’t pull it up, he’s going to drop out. No one retakes their senior year. If she can’t help him pass, he’s going to become a statistic. Timothy Bradford will become yet another student the educational system failed, a number on a paper and whispered he didn’t even pass high school from every potential future employer.
“Okay. I’ll do it,” she says, and Luna smiles as she pats Lucy on the arm.
“Thank you, sweetie. Tim just needs…”
She trails off, and Lucy wonders at the brief, haunted look that passes across Luna’s gaze.
“He just needs someone to care.”
Lucy nods and swallows thickly. She steps out of the way as Luna reaches for the light switch, and then follows her down the hallway as they head to the entrance of the school. Luna will be going home, Lucy knows, to her family. Lucy, however, will be hanging out in the library until she’s kicked out, and even then she’ll try to find a way to avoid going home. She’ll get yelled at, but if she manages to miss dinner then at least she won’t have to deal with her mother’s judgement and her father’s constant disappointment.
“I’ll call him tonight,” she says, and Luna smiles softly at Lucy as they pause at the end of the hallway, each preparing to go their separate ways.
“Thank you, Lucy,” she says, and Lucy nods, clutching her books and the small piece of paper closer to her chest as she watches her teacher walk out of the front door and toward her car. She watches until the door closes behind her, and then sighs, juggling her books until she can pull her phone from her pocket. She dials Tim’s number and then presses the phone to her ear as she walks toward the library.
It rings and rings and rings, and Lucy is just about to give up hope that he’ll answer when the call connects. Lucy can hear yelling in the background, and she winces, her heart racing as the yelling intensifies and then muffles as a door is closed.
“Hello?”
Lucy bites her lip and pauses outside of the library.
“Hey. This is Lucy Chen…”
“Oh, the tutor. Mrs. Grey told me you’d be calling,” Tim says, and Lucy can hear the sigh of resignation in his voice. “Fucking great.”
“Oh my god, don’t sound so excited,” she snaps, and she hears Tim scoff on the other end. “I’m trying to help you, asshole.”
“I don’t fucking care if I fail, I just want to play football,” Tim grouses, and Lucy can hear the springs of his bed as he flops back onto it. “My guidance counselor told me that if I don’t bring my grades up I’m off the team, and I will not fucking miss the final season of my senior year. There are colleges and recruiters out and I fucking need…”
He trails off and Lucy tries to calm the way her heart is racing and her chest is warm.
“If it’s all about football for you,” she says, and she hears Tim make a disbelieving noise on the other end.
“Not all of us are fucking nerds. I just need a passing grade so I can stay on the team. Can you manage that?”
Lucy bristles.
She wants to tell Tim Bradford where he can stick his attitude and his football team, but in the end, she doesn’t.
She remembers Luna’s words, and she takes a deep breath.
He just needs someone to care.
“You can be an dick if you want, but Luna asked me to tutor you. She seems to be under the impression that you’re not a total asshole, and since she’s never steered me wrong, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.”
Tim scoffs and Lucy rolls her eyes.
“Fine. Also, Luna? You’re a fucking teacher’t pet aren’t you. God damn, just my luck.”
Lucy sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose.
“When do you want to do this?”
Tim sighs on the other end, and for a while Lucy thinks he isn’t going to answer. She hears the crinkling of paper, though, and she realizes that he’s probably checking his practice schedule.
“I can do Mondays and Wednesdays after school, or weekends. Anything to get me out of the fucking house.”
Lucy nods to herself and drops her backpack to the ground, rustling around inside until she finds her calendar. She checks it over and then pencils Tutor Tim into Monday and Wednesday afternoons. It’s Friday now, the whole week looming ahead of them, and as she writes, she thinks.
“I hate being at home, too,” she whispers, and then she winces because she hadn’t meant to say that.
She’s surprised, then, when Tim makes a soft, understanding noise.
“Let’s meet for breakfast tomorrow. We can come up with a schedule and I can tell you what books are on my reading list so you can be prepared.”
Lucy swallows and nods, and then realizing that Tim can’t see her, adds, “Okay. That sounds good.” She doesn’t tell him that she already knows the books on his list, or the fact that she also has them. Luna had given her a copy of each so that she’d be prepared, but she’s afraid that if Tim knows that, he’ll cancel.
“All right. I’ll text you. See you tomorrow…”
He trails off, and Lucy rolls her eyes when she realizes that he’s forgotten her name.
“Lucy,” she supplies, and Tim chuckles at the annoyance plain in her voice.
“See you then, Lucy.”
Lucy hangs up and adds Tim’s name to her contacts.
She stares at her phone for a long time before shaking her head, gathering her things, and heading into the library.