"Come on, Boy, you're smart. You'll get it sometime," Artemis Fowl Senior muttered without any true interest. The boy was a genius, after all, and this was not exactly the hardest task imaginable.
Having said that, the man walked away impatiently, expecting his four-year-old son to follow after him. He did not, so the man continued to walk away from the yard, back into the house. After all, the boy's bodyguard would be keeping a watchful eye.
Artemis Junior looked up at the sky, then over at the massive man that had assumed a position beside him.
"What are we learning today, Sir?" It was a question that didn't really want an answer. Yesterday it had been the Pythagorean Theorem, and the day before it was quantum physics. He was a bodyguard, not a tutor.
"Left from right," the small boy answered, ever enthralled by the topic.
Butler was confused, not that it showed on his face. "And how is that going, Sir?" The Eurasian man asked, firm face slipping ever so slightly into a smile.
Artemis scowled, and his piercing eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Not well at all, I'm afraid."
"And why would that be, Mister Fowl? It's like up and down, isn't it?" He asked, fully expecting a complex answer.
"Not in the least," Artemis answered angrily, face twisting into uncharacteristic confusion.
Butler cleared his throat. "Would you care to explain?" Unnecessary question.
The boy smiled, showing off a missing incisor. "Yes, actually. See, up is always up, and down is always down. But left and right is ever changing."
Butler was confused, a state which was not uncommon during Artemis's lectures. This time, though, it was different. After all, the boy dealt with changing things every day. He specialized in them, actually. He was a math prodigy, for goodness sake; was this some kind of joke?
"Left and right is always the same, also, Sir."
Artemis smiled again. It was a smile that was worth a thousand words, but it all came down to one thing: I'm right, and you're wrong.
He pointed up. "The sky is up, now, and the ground is down. The Manor is to my . . . right," he said it with a testy hesitation, "and the big tree is to my left. Yes?" He didn't wait for an answer, instead turning on his heel and facing the other way. "Now, the sky is still up, and the ground is still down. But the Manor moved to my . . . left . . . And the tree to my . . . right . . ."
Butler sighed. Only this boy. He was sure that no other four-year-old thought in that way.
Artemis shook his head absentmindedly; at least the ground would always be down and the sky would always be up.
A fifteen-year-old Artemis Fowl looked into his bathroom mirror, touching a pale finger to his right eye. It was a lovely shade of honey and emerald, a deep contrast to his left, which was a paralyzing electric blue.
He smiled to himself, turning away from the mirror. Hazel would always be right, and blue would always be left. No matter which way he turned, a part of her would always be to his right.
AN: Leave it to me to turn something simple into a mess, and make a decent idea something awful. I'm still new at this, so reviews are incredibly appreciated, especially constructive critism.
Artemis Fowl (c) Eoin Colfer.