I got up and followed Miss Carswell. Susie stood up too and began to come
after us. “Susie,” Miss Carswell said softly, “we’ll
be ready for you in a few minutes.”
Susie pouted and started to protest, but Miss Carswell short-circuited
her objections. “Mrs. Barrows wants to tell Buzz what she thinks he
ought to be doing with you,” she said with a friendly grin at Susie.
Susie snorted loudly, and Miss Carswell’s grin turned into a chuckle. “I
take it you don’t think much of your teacher’s opinion,” she
said, “and that’s fine. You’ll get your say soon enough.
In the meantime, Buzz will get his say.”
“
But I want to be there,” Susie complained. “Who knows what he’ll
say or do under pressure?” she added, pointing at me with her thumb.
Miss Carswell’s chuckle deepened. “His job is on the line, Susie” she
retorted. “Cut the fellow some slack!”
Susie wrinkled up her nose. “Well, it’s my education.”
Miss Carswell stepped back over the threshold and patted Susie’s shoulder. “Don’t
worry! We won’t let anyone mess up your education.”
Susie sat down at the kitchen table, apparently mollified by the old woman’s
promise. I glanced back at her and she had my pencil in her hand and was scribbling
on a sheet of paper, mumbling, “Nearly half don’t understand fractions.”
The living room was small. Mrs. Barrows sat in a comfortable looking armchair
directly across from its twin where Mrs. Ellis sat. In between the two of
them was a sofa covered in a flower print. Miss Carswell’s tote bag
rested on the floor near the left side of it, so I headed towards the right
side, but I didn’t sit down right away. I waited to be invited, remembering
my manners.
“
Please sit down, Buzz,” Mrs. Ellis said. Mrs. Barrows smiled at me.
She certainly was a pretty woman with bright blue eyes and curly blonde hair.
She looked at me as if we were in cahoots and started talking to me right
away, telling me how she knew I was good at math and how much she appreciated
my efforts with Susie.
I was flattered, but at the same time I didn’t feel it was her place
to take the lead. It wasn’t her house and she was the youngest person
in the room, aside from me. I guess Miss Carswell must have guessed my contradictory
reactions because she interrupted.
“
Perhaps you’d like to take some notes on what Mrs. Barrows is saying,
Buzz,” she suggested. I looked at her blankly for a second, then nodded.
Only I had left my pencil in the kitchen with Susie.
Miss Carswell anticipated my problem. She handed me something to write
with. It was some sort of pen, but not like any I’d ever seen before.
“
Have you ever used a fountain pen, Buzz?” she asked. Mrs. Barrows sighed.
I shook my head. “The only ones I’ve ever seen were the ones in
your kitchen,” I replied. “And they were all apart and in pieces.”
Miss Carswell grinned at me. “Well,” she explained, reaching across
to adjust the pen in my right hand, “you hold it like this and write
without pressure.”
I tried it, and it was kind of nice.
“
Hmm,” I observed, “it sure is different from the throwaway pen
I use. You don’t throw this away when it’s empty, do you?”
She shook her head. “You refill it from a bottle, like the bottle you
took from my trash.”
I nodded. “Right.”
Mrs. Barrows cleared her throat. “As I was saying,” she began
talking again, “I don’t blame you for the disruption Susie has
caused. She has to show off in some way to compensate for her cognitive deficit
when it comes to mathematical thinking.”
It sounded to me as if she were saying Susie was stupid about math, which
she wasn’t. I must have looked confused because Mrs. Barrows paused.
“
I’m sorry,” I said, “but could you explain that?”
“
Explain what?” she snapped.
“
Uh, what you just said about how Susie has to…,” I stopped and
read from my page, “‘…compensate for her cognitive deficit
when it comes to mathematical thinking’. I don’t know what you
mean.”
Mrs. Barrows turned her smile on me again. “Oh, I’m sorry, Buzz.
I forgot that you’re only what? Fourteen? You seem older.” She
gave me a sultry look, the kind my father had warned me against.
“
A child at age ten should be about to work with numbers without requiring
pictorial representations. So I classify Susie’s mathematical development
as delayed. Abstraction is beyond her skill level right now. This interferes
with performing up to standards.”
“
So are you saying she’s stupid about math? Because she isn’t,” I
protested.
Mrs. Barrows smiled at me again, but her tone was condescending. “Oh
no, I wouldn’t says she’s stupid, just developmentally delayed
as far as cognition is concerned.”
“
You mean, like retarded?”
Mrs. Ellis looked uncomfortable and a little sad. Mrs. Barrows tried again. “No,
Susie isn’t retarded, but she is a bit slow in math. Surely you’ve
noticed that.”
I shook my head. “She isn’t slow. She’s just stubborn and
frustrated.”
Mrs. Barrows shrugged. “Susie, along with everyone else in her class,
will have to pass the statewide competency tests, including the one in math,
next term. But she seems to have problems working with the most basic algorithms
once she leaves the realm of whole numbers. That’s why she needs a tutor,
Buzz.”
I glanced over at Miss Carswell who was looking on with her hand over her
mouth. With no reaction to help guide my next move, I blurted out: “Susie
has a tutor. Me! And from what I can tell, her understanding of math is pretty
darned good. She just can’t or won’t memorize the steps needed
to solve problems. She likes to understand what she’s doing.”
Mrs. Barrows’ face got red. She smiled sweetly at me though and said, “I
don’t teach my students to do anything by rote. First they understand
the meaning of the operation, then they learn how to perform it. Susie could
do neither. That’s why I suggested to Mrs. Ellis that she be tutored.” She
stopped to catch her breath, then went on, “My idea was that the tutor
would review what I’d presented in class.”
I put my hand up to stop her. “But how was I supposed to know what you’d
presented in class?”
She stared at me blankly, then replied, “From Susie, of course.”
I shook my head. “That’s how I started out,” I explained, “trying
to get her to tell me what she’d done in class. But she wouldn’t
or couldn’t.”
Mrs. Barrows sighed. “I see,” she said softly. Then she smiled
at me brilliantly. “Well, I suppose that if you’re to go on tutoring
her, you and I will have to work more closely together.” She folded
her hands and looked down at them. “I’ll draw up a list of the
assignments I’ll be giving the class, both the in-class work and the
homework, and get the list to you at the start of each week.” She stopped
looking at her hands. “That is, of course, if you continue to work with
Susie.”
“
Well, I’d like to keep working with Susie,” I ventured warily.
She nodded. “Benjamin Roy is tutoring several of my students. He could
easily add Susie to the group,” she said. “That would be easier
for all concerned.”
“
Except for Susie,” Miss Carswell interjected. “She seems to like
working with Buzz.”
“
I don’t want to appear rude,” Mrs. Barrows said, “but really,
what she likes and what’s good for her may be two entirely different
things.”
Miss Carswell smiled thinly. “On the contrary. If Susie doesn’t
want to work with someone, she’ll behave very much as she does in your
class. She’ll simply not absorb what she’s supposed to be learning.” She
fixed Mrs. Barrows with a hawk-like stare. “Benjamin Roy,” she
said softly. “Do I know him? The name seems familiar. Let me think…”
Mrs. Barrows cleared his throat. “He’s an honors student in math
at the high school,” she said, sounding impatient.
“
Yes, of course,” Miss Carswell said, “and he’s your sister’s
son as well, isn’t he?”
Mrs. Barrows flushed. “That’s irrelevant. He’s very good
at math and very reliable. No parents have complained about him.”
“
And have the students shown any improvement in their math skills?” Mrs.
Ellis interjected.
“
Yes, they have, as a matter of fact,” Mrs. Barrows replied, smiling. “All
of them have shown significant improvement.”
“
So none of them is among the fifteen kids who aren’t getting it?” I
asked.
“
Where did you get the idea that fifteen kids aren’t, as you so quaintly
put it, ‘getting it’?” she demanded.
“
From Susie,” I replied. “Where else?”
“
Where else indeed!” she said, clearly flustered. “You don’t
believe everything the child tells you,” she asked disdainfully as if
she had never heard of a more foolish idea.
I had the distinct feeling that Susie was right and this lady was trying
to cover up her lack of success. Before I could think how to defend Susie
or myself, Mrs. Ellis intervened.
“
Well, I don’t know. I was leaning toward asking Benjamin Roy to take
over tutoring Susie.” She looked over at Mrs. Barrows and shrugged. “But
now I’m more inclined to stick with Buzz. Susie does seem to like working
with him.”
“
Do as you wish, Mrs. Ellis,” Mrs. Barrows said, not quite able to hide
her annoyance behind a mask of cool indifference. “But remember that
a lot depends on how well Susie learns mathematics this year. The state examination…” She
raised her eyebrows to punctuate the significance of her words. Then she sat
back, and folded her hands in her lap.
Mrs. Ellis looked perturbed. “Well, if you really think Susie would
fail the exam if she kept working with Buzz…”
Mrs. Barrows sat up straight. “Sad to say, I see no evidence to the
contrary.”
Mrs. Ellis looked over at Miss Carswell, who cleared her throat. “I
was, as you know, Jill, a consultant for the design of the state mathematics
examination. I suggest we invite Susie in to show us just how much she gets.” She
emphasized the last word with a wink at me.
“
Very well,” Mrs. Barrows agreed grudgingly. “But don’t say
I didn’t warn you.”
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