Chapter 4 | Run Boy Run | Part 1

                                    

                                          




17 Years Ago
"During extreme weather conditions," the man, Herr Carlson, says on the record, "A climber must possess the wisdom to determine..." Mum rings the bell for breakfast time, standing in the entrance with a pretty yellow dress on, "When evacuation is inevitable."
All eight of us come pushing down the stairs. "A controlled alpine descent begins with the girding of one's ioins." Mum offers us one of her bright smiles as we walk through the archway to make it to the dining table, and I give her a great big smile back. "And the anchoring of the climbing robe to one's enemy, the mountain." 
I stand behind my usual seat next to Five and politely place my hands at the back of me as we all wait for Dad to arrive. "The Dülfersitz rappel is the preferred method for decent when rope is the only available tool." Dad finally arrives, and mum gives him another happy smile. "But it must be regarded as a last resort." 
Dad makes his way to his seat as the very end of the table, "Sit." He commands us, and so we do. The man's voice on the record sinks into the background as we all begin to eat.
Luther and Allison, who were sitting diagonally facing each other, with Luther closest to dad, were making goo goo eyes at one another, trying not to blush as they smiled at one another. Diego, who was sitting next to Luther facing Allison, was busy carving whichever profanities he could think of into the side of the dining table, and Klaus was sneakily rolling a blunt underneath. He was sitting next to Allison, and Ben, who was sitting in front of me and next to Klaus, had his head in a book like usual. He seemed to be the only sensible one, along with Vanya, who sat at the other end of the table, facing Dad. 
Usually, Five and I were shoving insults into each other's faces and nudging one another to show the other that our broccoli looked like Bob Ross. It mostly ended up with a dispute between us, with dad giving us a sanction and no supper. However, today, Five didn't seem like he was in the mood to talk or mess around, as he didn't touch his food and only glared at our dad. Despite me kicking his leg three times to get his attention, he didn't look at me once. 
I look over to dad to see that he has seen Fives strange behavior but decides to ignore it— no talking during meal times. Five didn't like this one bit, and so to get his attention once more, he swiftly picks up his knife and stabs it into the table with a loud clang. I flinch slightly, seeing that the knife is rather close to my hand. The abrupt action doesn't just get the attention of dad but all of our other siblings.
"Number Five?" Dad gives Five a questioning look to explain why he has just ruined a perfectly fine table.
"I have a question." He snarls.
"Knowledge is an admirable goal, but you know the rules. No talking during mealtimes," Dad lifts his knife up. "You are interrupting, Herr Carlson." He explains.
Five shoves his plate of food away, not letting dad just ignore him. "I want to time travel." What? But Five said he'd take me with him, so surely he'd let me know when he was going to do it, right?
Dad shuts his idea down immediately, "No."
"But I'm ready. I've been practicing my spatial jumps, just like you said." Five says standing up and jumping right next to dad to show him what he meant.
"A spatial jump is trivial when compared with the unknowns of time travel. One is like sliding along the ice; the other is akin to descending blindly into the depths of the freezing water and reappearing as an acorn." Dad doesn't look at Five as he speaks and takes a sip of his drink instead.