Chapter 39: Education
Chapter 39: Education
The next day Bael went over to Saint Drogo’s to enroll Six in classes. He always held catholic monasteries in great regards as places of learning. They had helped preserve classic works of literature during the dark ages along with countless pieces of ancient knowledge ranging from metalwork to mathematics. Of course he never could understand why they then decided to decorate those priceless books with drawings of snails.
It was an odd but true fact that scribbled in the margins of those books preserving ancient knowledge it wasn’t uncommon to find armored knights fighting monstrous mollusks or spear wielding rabbits. According to experts it was either to do with the inevitability of death or a reference to some enemy. Bael had always thought it much more likely that it was just some very bored monks venting about the pests in their gardens.
Bael didn’t have an appointment but the administrator was in a good mood so she decided to see him anyway. Out of the blue a big investment firm generously decided to donate thousands of dollars to the school, which after it had been picked over and processed meant hundreds of dollars would be available for supplies and desks. The rest of course would go towards Ms. Kitch’s new Porsche.
“I see you are here to enroll your daughter in classes. I must tell you, with the school year starting so soon I really don’t see how we’ll be able to squeeze her in.” The pleasantly plump Ms. Kitch said. “I trust she comes from an equally prestigious school?”
“Not quite, she mostly has been homeschooled. My wife and I thought that it might be time for her to be more socialized, you know, spend more time with people her own age.” Bael helped himself to the contents of the candy dish on the desk. “But don’t worry, she’s a very quick learner.”
“Well, most parents have a very high opinion of their children, but whether that translates to test scores remains to be seen.” Already it was clear that this meeting was a waste of her time so Ms. Kitch was winding up for her rejection speech. Of course, Bael derailed that train in a hurry.
“Well, if test scores are all that you care about, maybe this isn’t the right school for our daughter, or our grants.” Bael started to get up from his chair.
Stolen novel; please report.
Suddenly she put the pieces together and realized that if that man walked out of her office she could kiss her new car goodbye. “You wouldn’t happen to work for Sheriff Investments, by any chance?” She asked, “You see, I got a call from them offering quite a lot of money and here you are today Mr. Sharoth enrolling your daughter in our school. I can’t help but think that’s not a coincidence.”
“Very astute of you.” Bael sat back down and helped himself to another sweet. “The fact is I own Sheriff Investments and though I don’t completely understand all of this myself my advisors tell me that we have to give a certain portion of our revenue away to charity for tax reasons. I personally believe that charity begins at home and I just assumed that a bright young girl like my daughter would be a shoe-in for your school so sending that money here made sense. Of course if I’m wrong just say the word and you’ll never hear from me again… or my company.”
Without missing a beat Ms. Kitch put on her best smile. “Well, in that case I think we could find a spot for the daughter of such a generous donor. Our head of admissions will get you everything that you need. Did you require anything from me before you go?”
Bael seemed to think about it. “Just one small question, really for my own curiosity more than anything.” He gave a look over his shoulder to make sure the receptionist was out of earshot. “That new car you’re buying, what color are you going to get?”
Ms. Kitch froze. How could he possibly know about that? How could anyone know about that? Was this some kind of sting operation?
Noticing her unease, Bael let out a good hearted laugh. “In my line of work you learn to read people and figure out what they want without asking. It comes in handy when you’re negotiating.” He explained. “So let me rephrase the question, what color is your dream car?”
Of course, if she answered that it would mean she was practically admitting to stealing funds from the school. But somehow she didn’t think that Mr. Sharoth would care. Somehow she knew from the way he handled negotiations that he had probably seen it all.
“Silver, almost gray.” She admitted. “With an all tan interior.”
“Lovely.” Bael Sharoth said as he got up to leave. “That sounds absolutely lovely. I hope you enjoy it. You’ll have to tell me all about it once you’ve broken it in properly.” He took her hand in his. “I’m sure we will have a long and fruitful professional relationship.”
Of course he neglected to mention that the long part of that relationship would stretch out over eternity and most likely some kind of red hot coals.
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