Work Text:
“Do it again! Do it again!”
“Please, Mr. Jacob?”
“Yes, yes! Again! Again!”
“Okay, okay! Fine!” Jacob said with a laugh. “Just back up a bit, and I will.”
Miss Peregrine’s wards, who had been crowding the Portmans’ patio door, took a reluctant step back. Still tightly packed, they gazed upon Jacob with stars in their eyes. Jacob bit back an amused smile – normally such rapt attention would make his skin itch, but their innocent wonder was too amusing to do him any harm. Besides, it wasn’t quite him that they were watching. “Alright. Everybody ready?”
A chorus of affirmative remarks. None of the children dared nod their heads, lest they lose sight of the object in Jacob’s grasp. Jacob straightened his posture, readying himself like a performer before curtain. As he paused for dramatic effect, he met each of their gazes – and where he assumed Millard’s gaze to be. Every last one of them was utterly still, their eyes and attention trained on Jacob’s hands. Even Enoch, who was usually eager to deliver snide commentary, held his tongue. Raising the object of their awe above his head, it took all of Jacob’s willpower to keep from laughing: his friends had tilted their heads in unison, not unlike a row of oversized cats enraptured by a laser pointer.
After a moment longer of tense anticipation, Jacob stepped backwards out the door and into the summer sun.
His father’s glasses, held aloft in his grasp, slowly darkened.
The children cheered and applauded. Jacob could no longer help his laughter.
“Oh, that’s simply magnificent!” exclaimed Horace. “What did you say they were called?”
“Transition lenses,” replied Jacob with a grin, wiping tears from his eyes. He handed the glasses to Olive, who giggled and tapped at the glass with delight before passing them along in turn. The demonstration quickly devolved into show-and-tell – Jacob made a mental note to clean off the fingerprint smudges later. “They’re normal inside, but turn into sunglasses when you go outside. Prescription and everything.”
Bronwyn, receiving the glasses from Hugh, turned them over in her hands. She then held them up to the sun and studied them closely, like an archeologist poring over a newly-discovered artifact. “This is mighty neat and all, but how do they know when you’re outside?”
Jacob shrugged. “They don’t. I’m not sure about the fancy science stuff behind it, but it’s something to do with UV light exposure.”
“Light-sensing specs,” mused Millard with a subdued chuckle. The glasses floated from Bronwyn’s hands and came to rest in midair above his shirt collar, perched on the bridge of his nose. He looked around in amazement. “The modern world is truly full of surprises.”
Jacob watched his friends fawn over the glasses for a moment longer, an easy smile on his face. “If you think that’s cool,” he began, stepping back inside and turning toward the kitchen, “just wait until you see the fridge.”