Aleksander | Father Seraphim
“Bye!” Aleksandr called through the house before he closed the front door. He carefully placed the key into the lock of the doorknob and turned it gently, trying not to make a sound. He pulled the key out and walked towards his blue bicycle. He was not fond of riding a bike everywhere. However, he had grown used to doing things he disliked. In fact, his whole life seemed to perpetually revolve around doing things he hated, like going to school. He had predetermined University would not be any different.
His father, on the other hand, was pleased to see Aleksandr so eager to leave for “University.” His poor son seemed unenthusiastic about school in the past. He knew Aleksandr needed more structure in his life. Perhaps, a job or a career or something that would allow him to be independent. After all, he would not be around to support Aleksandr forever.
He thought about ordaining Aleksandr as a Subdeacon. However, ordaining Aleksandr to Subdeacon seemed like it would be too pre-emptive if he did
not already have a wife. Indeed, Aleksandr could possibly find a decent lady at “University,” and Father Seraphim knew for certain that he would not find anyone of the sorts staying cooped up in the household.
“I am sure he forgot his morning prayers,” Father Seraphim spoke softly to the icon of the Last Supper hanging highly on the wall by the table. His eyes studied the details of the iconography for several silent seconds. He finally let out a reluctant sigh and excused himself politely from the wooden table.
Father Seraphim slowly walked himself to his own bedroom. In a corner of the bedroom was an icon corner. A small table was placed in the corner, with incense and a white ten day candle burning, “Perhaps, an Akathist would be wise,” he went over to one of the bookshelves and pulled out a small, thin book titled,
Akathist to the Mother of God, Nurturer of Children. Father Seraphim knew full well his son was not a child, but the Akathist seemed to always bring him some sort of comfort.
Aleksandr pedaled his bicycle at a fairly swift pace. He did not want to work up too much of a sweat on the first day of school. A small barely noticeable smirk was set on his face. As much as he hated biking, he had learned to enjoy small things about it: the cool wind was brushing against his cheeks and running its fingers through his hair. He tilted his head upwards, breathing in the hastiness of his atmosphere. The wind felt absolutely heavenly.
He allowed his Converse to cease pedaling and let the bicycle sail independently through the neighborhood. Darcy University was only a ten minute bike ride from his neighborhood, and the neighborhood wasn’t too large of an area. There was something humble about the neighborhood that Aleksandr appreciated. It may have been the unkept lawns and lack of a proper Home Owners Association, but either way, the ratchet situation made him feel more at home than anything.
As he got closer to the University, the scenery improved. A sidewalk even started. He hopped his bike onto the sidewalk and followed the smooth, light gray path all the way to Darcy. It was a classical looking college with much greenery and shrubs. It was clear the upkeep was rather expensive.
Father Seraphim did not mind spending the extra money to get Aleksandr into the University. Sts. Peter & Paul was a larger parish than what the two were used to back in their former town. Therefore, the parish paid a bit more.
“If we’re frugal, enough—we might get away with a payable debt, Aleksy. Just, try not to get kicked out for bad grades. Colleges don’t shoe their students along the way public high schools do…” Father Seraphim had this talk with Aleksandr at least three times, and by the looks of Darcy, he realized just how real his father was being.
Aleksandr hopped off of his bike when he saw a bicycle rack. He paused, letting out a deep breath—one that he had been holding almost ever since he had entered the courtyard of Darcy. He had not realized he had been holding his breath until he had gotten off of his bicycle.
He looked around and proceeded to wheel his bike up to the rack. He opened his heavy messenger bag and pulled out a U-lock to hook his bicycle to the rack. Standing up straight, he opened his messenger bag and fished for his class schedule. He had printed it out and crammed it into his bag with several of his books he needed for the day last night. He frowned, remembering how organized he had to be for school.
Damn, he thought to himself.
It was as if cussing did the trick. He found the paper folded at the bottom of his messenger bag. He had not recalled folding it, but then, again, his memory was a bloody battlefield.
He unfolded the paper: “8:00 – 8:50 AM Teimhnean 204…” What building was Teimhnean?
How do you even pronounce that? He looked around and began walking in a random direction, leaving his bike on the rack.
The wind picked up and rustled his hair. He began walking quickly towards the nearest building. If worse comes to worst, he would have to tuck his tail and ask for help. His father was embarrassingly good about tucking away his ego and admitting defeat. Aleksandr had a bit of trouble swallowing his pride. He did not even know how pronounce the name of the building he was looking for. Maybe there was a map somewhere. There was no other option than to find a map.
I should have printed one out last night! God, Aleksy, what were you thinking? You're so dumb. He cursed himself silently inside his mind as he pushed the ornate, wooden door open to one of the many gothic style buildings of Darcy University.
The sudden blast of air conditioning felt good on his skin. He bit the bottom of his lip, to keep from grinning at the sensation of the artificial environment. The University building was large with high ceilings. There were four wooden staircases on the first floor leading to the upper levels building. Being inside the building made him feel like a little lost insect. There were more students in the building than he had expected, as well. They all had the appearance of knowing where they were going.
God, I'm dumb."Excuse me!" Aleksandr asked an elder gentleman, who was
clearly a professor. He was wearing a tweed blazer jacket and a bow tie. There was something traditionally prestigious looking about him. The old man looked Aleksandr up and down. Alesandr was wearing a pair of straight jeans, Converse, and a button down shirt. The man made a slight look of approval and smiled, letting steam from his nose.
"Yes, sir! How may I be assistance to you?" His voice was old and worn. He most likely smoked as a younger man.
Aleksandr showed him his piece of paper, "I'm looking for Tymenee-on."
"You mean Teimhnean." he leaned close to Aleksandr before continuing, "You already found it,” His eyes narrowed in at Aleksandr before abruptly turning around and walking away from the conversation.
Aleksandr’s eyes widened as he watched his elder walk out of the building. His mouth was slightly ajar, trying to grasp the situation. He shook his head softly,
Room 204. Okay. He ignored the students around him and hastily made his way towards the stairs. His first step startled him as the stairs were creaky and worn. Unfortunately, he did not have enough time to contemplate the conditions of the stairs and hurriedly jogged himself up each step. When he reached the top he saw Room 204 from across the hall. He actually made it!
Why was he so excited feeling?
@Arista 
