Chương 6: Book 1 - Chapter 5

Monday marked the beginning of Eighth Grade. Before I started my work, Principal Lewiston stopped by my desk.

"I've been working on what comes next. I think you're going to like it," he said, but didn't explain. I continued working. Little was different for Eighth Grade. School time was just me reading books, taking tests, and completing writing assignments. I continued to leave all of that at school, not bringing any of it home, as I worked through the middle school material. After school, I had piano and guitar lessons and studied musical theory with Mom in the evenings.

Monday, Wednesday, and Friday were my exercise days: I rode my bike from the time school got out until dinner. Wednesday the monotony changed. I set my final test on Principal Lewiston's desk.

"Can I get a drink and use the bathroom?" I asked.

"Sure, John. Take your time. I'm going to check this now. It'll be about fifteen minutes to see if you have successfully graduated from Eighth Grade." When I came back to his office, I found Mom, Dad and the Superintendent waiting for me with Principal Lewiston.

"Congratulations!" they cheered together.

"Con-grad-uations!" Dad added with a smirk.

"What are you all doing here?" I asked.

"We are taking you to lunch to celebrate!" Dad announced enthusiastically.

"Where to?" I asked.

"Pizza hut!" Mom replied. We went out to Dad's car, where I rode with my parents.

"We'll meet you at the Pizza Hut," Principal Lewiston told them, while getting into the passenger side of a new white Toyota Camry. The Superintendent followed in his car. I rushed inside excitedly as soon as we arrived to check out the options.

"John, you get to pick any toppings you want. No Mattie to complain about peppers or olives," Dad said, following me to the red counter.

"I appreciate it," I said and ordered my favorite toppings.

"Put that on your two largest pizzas," Dad instructed, while standing behind me. The Principal and Superintendent ordered their own pizza, splitting the toppings to separate halves. With no picky eater to determine toppings and no risk of pizza shortages, it was clear we were celebrating. I even had a red soda cup I filled with Dr Pepper. We sat together around one of the larger round tables. While we waited for the pizzas, they started to discuss my high school education.

Superintendent Clayton leaned back in the booth, adjusting his tie.

"The plan is approved," he announced.

"The school board agreed that to award a high school diploma, John will need a combination of self study course work, and specific in person class time."

"I've worked out a schedule for both," he continued, using a glass of water to gesture.

"John will move between Study Hall first thing in the morning, and then one on one time with specialized teachers." Dad put down his soda cup.

"What kind of classes will require time with teachers?" Clayton ticked them off on his fingers.

"Required classes where book learning simply isn't enough: Home Ec, Woodshop, Biology, Chemistry, Art, and so on." Mom let out a relieved breath.

"That's really amazing."

"It's just a few teachers, for a few weeks," Clayton assured her.

"John needs to go at his own pace, and I convinced the board that couldn't be done with a regular classroom full of students."

"Thank you, sir. I really appreciate the effort going into this," I quickly added. He smiled.

"Now, today we'll all go to the high school after lunch to get you your student ID and show you around. Tomorrow, we will mostly be getting you set up with books and everything. But, expect to hit the ground running on Friday, with a full class schedule."

"I've arranged for your private classes to be back to back. That means you need to complete the reading and course work for those classes before Monday. Any teacher that handles your other subjects will be available to answer your questions, but those won't be private classes. If we need to, your regular classroom studies can continue through summer school. The classes requiring lab and hands on work are not offered during summer school."

"This accelerated course will allow Johnny to get an actual diploma?" my Dad asked. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"Yes. We've designed the program so that no matter how long he takes, he will graduate from our school with a high school diploma."

"Do you have a computer lab?" I asked.

"There are plans for one, but we don't have the budget for it right now. We think we'll be able to get one in 1986. For now we do have a typing class using our IBM Selectric II typewriters. Do you type?" he inquired, his gaze direct.

"Not yet. Maybe I can get a lesson on Friday? I'm going to have a lot of writing to do to finish four years of English classes."

"I'll make the arrangements," the Superintendent said with confidence.

"Thank you. What foreign languages do you offer at the high school?" I asked him.

"We offer French and Spanish. Are you interested in either of those?"

"I'd love to learn both, is that a one on one class with a teacher?"

"They each have their own teacher, but we have an audio lab where students can listen to the spoken language. We plan on providing you headphones and a portable player for that class, so you can do it in study hall. A single year of foreign language is a graduation requirement."

"I can help if you take French," my Mom said.

"I can help if you take Spanish," my Dad said.

"Flip a coin for me, Sir. I'll take that language. If it goes well, then I can take the second one if there is time. I don't imagine those languages are difficult. It's primarily just learning the vocabulary and altered pronunciation of letters I already know." Mom smirked, in amusement.

"It's definitely more complicated than that, but you're not completely wrong either." After lunch we arrived at the high school and met Principal Endicott. The wide but jolly man greeted me with a firm handshake.

"John, it's great to finally meet you," he said, then nodded to Principal Lewiston.

"I'm Raymond and this is Mary," Dad offered, introducing them as they shook Endicott's hand. Superintendent Clayton placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Principal Endicott will give you the tour. I need to head back to the District office." He squeezed my shoulder.

"Congratulations again, John. I know you'll do great."

"First off, we will make it official," Endicott told us.

"Will you join us, Jim?" he asked Lewiston.

"I will. I haven't been here in a while. The alternative is a walk back to my office," he said, as he watched the Superintendent drive away without him.

"Hello! I'm Miss Avis, the office secretary," the young woman introduced herself. She handed me what looked like a business card.

"Sign the back, and check the front carefully before I laminate it," she instructed. I checked the dates and spelling carefully.

"That's my name and birthday," I told Miss Avis, handing the card back. She added a sticker and put it through the laminating machine and trimmed it. It didn't have a picture like a drivers license, but it did have my full name.

"Mr and Mrs Cook," Miss Avis said, holding the laminated ID up to my parents. She pointed to a small, orange sticker she had added.

"This orange sticker grants John full meal privileges. Since he'll have a very demanding schedule, he is permitted to go back for seconds, thirds—anything he wants—at lunch, and it covers his breakfast if he gets here early. We want to be certain he eats well." Mom smiled happily, as she held onto Dad's arm. One less worry for her. Miss Avis examined the ID closely, then handed it to me.

"I've never seen one with Study Hall as homeroom. That's usually an English class," she told me. I looked at the spot where it was marked Grade, and smiled. It said, '9-12.' It was my pass to high school, and I held on to it tightly.

"If you follow me I'll give you a brief tour," Principal Endicott said.

"I can't bring you into any classrooms, but we can walk around the buildings and the grounds. The theater should be empty, so I can show you that, and the sports field." Mom and Dad really liked the tour, too. The school was so much larger than my Grade School or even the Middle School next door. It had to be big, it served the entire county. The other schools served only Stigler, the Haskel County seat.

"Can you give me a ride back to the Grade School?" Principal Lewiston asked my Dad at the end of the tour.

"Sure," he offered. Mom got in the back with me, letting the much taller man sit up front.

"It's not everyday I get to play hooky for an afternoon," Principal Lewiston commented.

"The school day is almost over. We should wait to pick up Mattie," Mom suggested as Dad drove the few blocks to the Grade School.

"I was planning on it," he told her. Mattie was so excited to see us parked outside when the school bell rang.

"Mom! Dad! You're here!" she shouted excitedly, running to my Mom. Dad got his hug too, then helped her buckle up in the back seat. Mattie immediately started telling us about her day, while I looked at my freshly laminated High School ID. As we drove up the road to home, Mom had our marching orders.

"Mattie, straight into the dining room to do home work. Johnny, it's Wednesday, so on to your bike, be home by diner time.

"Ray, it's great that you're home early. I need a hand in the garden." He sighed.

"Rototiller?" he asked.

"Yes," she agreed, squeezing his bicep.

"I need my big strong man to get it up and running. The entire garden needs the soil prepared." I returned to find everyone at the dinner table waiting for me. Mom and Dad looked freshly showered, and a little smug. As I dug into my salad, Mattie asked a question.

"How do I get home from school if Johnny isn't there to ride the bus with me? I don't like riding by myself."

"It'll be ok, Mattie. We will both get on the bus together in the morning. I'll stay on the bus to go to my school when you get out at your school. When we go home, I'll already be on the bus waiting for you. I'll even save a seat for you, and sit with you on the way home."

"Okay," she said, then thought about it for a moment, "I know you said I didn't have to skip school, but do I have to be 'celerated like Johnny?" Mom had an excellent way to reassure her.

"Don't worry you're two years away from being as old as Johnny is. When you are his age, and if you want to take lots of extra tests after reading lots of extra books then we can talk about it."

"Doesn't sound fun at all," she commented with a slight grimace. While she would always be gifted musically, Mattie did not have my memory, or my extra ability to remember the future. Regardless, I determined in my heart that my little sister would live a happy, successful life, I would never let her down.