One On One

by Don Aker

  “Yeah. I spent a couple hours on it.”

  “Did you work on it with Ellie?”

  Jared shook his head.

  The teacher raised his eyebrows and seemed about to ask a question but did not. “You realize what this means.”

  Jared swallowed, glancing at the door to make sure no one else was waiting to see Mr. Keaton. He had thought he’d heard something, a footstep maybe, but he couldn’t see anyone. “Mr. Keaton…” he began.

  “Yes, Jared?”

  “I was wonderin’ if, you know, if maybe it might be possible for me to…”

  “To what, Jared?”

  “To rewrite the test.” There. He’d said it.

  The teacher sat forward in his chair, picked up his pen and rolled it between his hands a couple of times. Jared could see he was taking his time before answering, making sure he knew exactly what he wanted to say before he said it. “Jared, you know I have a policy about not allowing rewrites.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Keaton leaned back in his chair. “Do you know why I have that policy?” he asked.

  Jared looked down at his hands. They were calloused from all the ball-handling, and for a moment he wondered if his brain looked like that from banging against math. He looked up. “I guess so no one has an advantage over anyone else?”

  The teacher shook his head. “Not really. If I were ever to give a rewrite, I’d make up a whole new test.”

  “Then why?” Jared asked.

  “It’s about commitment,” said Mr. Keaton. “You know I let my students rewrite quizzes as many times as they want.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I do that because I think students need the opportunity to learn from their mistakes. Sometimes they may do poorly simply because they weren’t prepared to be quizzed on a concept in that particular way, not because they don’t know the work.” He put his pen down. “But the term test is that point where the rubber meets the road. Do you know what I mean by that?”

  “I think so. You want to see exactly what we can do. Like when Coach Jamieson really makes us pour it on at the end of practice.”

  The teacher nodded. “Something like that, yes. And I go to great lengths to prepare my students for term tests. At least I think I do. I hope I do.”

  Jared thought back to how the teacher had described what the test would look like, had made up a review to help them practice, had even divided the class into groups to attempt sample questions in the days before the test. He looked at his hands again. “You do.”

  “That test shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone when he or she finally sees it.” The teacher sighed. “But for some reason, it was a surprise to you. Right?”

  Jared flushed. “It wasn’t really…” he began. “I just…It’s just that…” He looked at the teacher. “I guess I wasn’t as ready as I thought I was.”

  The teacher smiled. It was a friendly smile, though, a sympathetic smile. Jared knew Mr. Keaton wasn’t making fun of his comment or situation. “The rubber met the road, Jared. And the road turned out to be a lot rougher than you were prepared for. But, fortunately, we’ve got the remainder of the year to address your weaknesses.” He seemed to underline the phrase the remainder of the year with his voice.

  Jared didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say.

  “You played an incredible game yesterday, Jared. I knew you were good, but I had no idea just how strong you are on the court.”

  Jared waited.

  “Although you’re going to miss this season, I’m sure you’ll be Mr. Jamieson’s first choice for next year’s lineup.”

  Jared got up to leave. He was tired of talking. Tired of listening. Tired of everything.

  “I know you’ll find this hard to believe, but this is for your own good.”

  “Right.” He made his way toward the door.

  “Remember, I’ll be happy to give you as much extra help as you need.”

  “Uh-huh.” As Jared reached the door, he saw the flash of someone disappearing around the corner.

  Someone had been listening.

  Someone wearing a blue shirt.

  CHAPTER 21

  Jared threw the worn tennis ball as hard as he could, then watched as the yellow Lab streaked across the grass, catching the ball in mid-air on the first bounce and strutting jauntily back to drop it at Jared’s feet. No matter how many times he threw it, Cal always awaited the next toss with trembling anticipation. The dog’s bright eyes tracked the ball in Jared’s hand like lasers, and his body coiled with excitement each time Jared brought his arm back for the throw.

  Sometimes, Jared would only pretend to throw the ball, elaborately bringing his arm back and then shooting it forward, pantomiming its release. At those times, Cal would race across the park in the direction of the toss, scanning the sky for his prize, then abruptly stop, his head low, tail drooping. It was as if he were embarrassed at having made such a spectacle of himself, and he’d return to Jared by a roundabout route, as though to give the impression that he’d only gone for a stroll. All the while, he’d give Jared a reproving stare as if not quite believing Jared would stoop so low as to fool him. But all Jared had to do was raise the ball again, and the spell would be broken. Cal, ball-chaser extraordinaire, was back.

  “Last time, buddy,” Jared said, although if he had his way, he’d have stayed and thrown till midnight. But he had to go home sometime. He threw the ball once more and, as he waited for the dog to return with it, he thought of the math test in his backpack that he needed to have his mother sign. This was going to be, without question, a much bigger deal than showing her Mr. Keaton’s note last month about his work sliding. Hopefully, though, she’d recognize that he’d been trying. Jeez, he’d spent as many as four sessions a week with Ellie, and the results had been pretty amazing. For him, anyway. Heck, for anybody!

  His thoughts turned to Ellie, and he wondered what she was doing at that moment. Feeding her fish? Iguana-proofing her apartment for her lizard-phobic housekeeper? He grinned at that last thought. Jacques. What better name to give an exotic creature than that of the person who had explored faraway oceans?

  And what better person than Ellie to help Jared find his way through the math that had mystified him for so long? Think how that musta made her feel. Jared felt another wave of regret pass over him as he remembered what Steve had said that day at recess. I wouldn’t do to my worst enemy what you did to Ellie. Especially after everything she did to help you.

  Steve was right. What a jerk he’d been. Pretending to be cheating rather than let anyone know he’d been spending time with Ellie. What kind of loser was that?

  Cal whined and Jared realized the dog had returned and dropped the ball at his feet and was waiting for another throw. “Sorry, buddy, no can do. Time’s up.” Jared picked up the ball and returned it to the can with the others.

  The dog lowered his head, his tail drooping toward the ground.

  “Cal,” Jared muttered, rubbing the dog’s ears, “believe me, there’s nothing you can do that’ll make me feel worse than I already do.” He sighed long and loudly. “I guess I just have a talent for lettin’ people down. You, too, huh?”

  He clipped the leash onto the dog’s collar and headed home.

  Walking up the driveway, Jared could hear the radio on in the kitchen and knew his mother was making supper. Should he wait until after they’d eaten, or should he just get it over with now? Like it mattered.

  It was, however, a decision he didn’t have to make.

  “Jared, honey,” his mother said as he came in the door. Several expressions flickered across her face one after the other and so quickly that Jared couldn’t tell if she was angry or upset. “Sit down, dear.”

  Now he knew. He was in trouble. He sat down.

  “Mr. Keaton called me this afternoon,” she said. “At work.”

  Jared scowled. “Jeez, does that guy have nothin’ better to do than get on my case? I was gonna tell you myself. Really.”
r />   Another expression settled over her face, this time one of surprise. “But he said you didn’t know.”

  “For Pete’s sake, I got it back first thing this mornin’. And I already knew I’d failed anyway. Jeez, I left out most of the freakin’ questions!” Jared slumped in his chair, annoyed with the world. It seemed like this math test was going to haunt him for the rest of his life.

  “Sweetheart, I know about the test. That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  He looked up. “Then what?”

  “Mr. Keaton is going to let you rewrite it. Tomorrow after school. If you do well on that one, he won’t count the one you wrote yesterday. And you’ll still be able to play for the Cougars.”

  It took a long moment for his mother’s news to sink in. After all that talk about why he never gave rewrites, here was Keaton offering him a second chance. Jared shook his head. Clearly, he’d stepped into that bizarre parallel universe again, the one where all the faces were the same but the people wearing them were suddenly different, no longer who they seemed to be.

  But so what? Jared sat up straight. As weird as Keaton’s change of heart was, Jared wasn’t about to blow it. He was determined to make the most of what was certainly a once-only opportunity. He’d sit down again and go through his math from beginning to end, thinking about all the things Ellie had told him. He’d think about bingo chips and Kraft Dinner boxes and all the other real-world examples she’d talked about. He’d think about drawing diagrams and looking for patterns. He would read questions five or six times if he had to, really try to focus on what information was necessary and what was not.

  He could do this. After all, Ellie had shown him how, hadn’t she? He wasn’t going to let himself down again. And he wasn’t letting her down, either. Not if he could help it.

  CHAPTER 22

  “Time’s up,” Mr. Keaton said.

  Jared pushed his chair back from the table. “That’s okay. I was done, anyway. I was just checkin’ over my work.”

  The teacher whistled. “Jared St. George checking over his work. I’m alerting the media.”

  Jared smiled as he picked up his test and the package of math manipulatives and carried them to the teacher’s desk. “I wanna thank you again for lettin’ me rewrite this. Even if I don’t do so hot, I know it was a lot to ask you to make up a new test and then stay after school on a Friday afternoon so I could write it. Especially since you don’t usually do this.”

  The teacher stood up and came around from behind his desk. “Let’s just say I listened to some pretty convincing arguments to the contrary.”

  In the middle of stapling his papers together, Jared looked up. “Coach Jamieson talked to you, didn’t he?”

  The teacher grimaced, then smiled noncommittally. “I, ah…that person made me promise not to tell.”

  Jared shook his head in wonder. Coach Jamieson. He’d heard before how loyal he was to his players, but even this seemed like a lot to do for a first-year Cougar. Jamieson was quite a guy. Jared wondered how he might thank him without letting him know Mr. Keaton had tipped him off.

  The teacher took the test but didn’t put it into his briefcase. Instead, he slowly flipped through it.

  “I tried every question this time,” Jared said.

  “I see you did. I’m impressed.”

  “I know I probably made tons ‘a mistakes, but at least I felt like I knew what I was doin’ this time.”

  “Well, it’s not because this test was easier than the last one. If anything, I made it a little tougher.”

  Jared grinned. “Gee, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” the teacher smiled in return. “It was the least I could do.”

  Jared slipped his backpack over his shoulder and headed toward the door. “Mr. Keaton?” Jared turned toward the teacher.

  “Yes, Jared?”

  “Will you, you know, be able to mark it over the weekend?”

  The teacher shook his head. “’Fraid not. I have family things that’ll keep me pretty busy tomorrow and Sunday.”

  Jared’s face fell. “Oh.” He turned to leave.

  “So I planned to mark it right now.”

  Jared looked back to see the teacher’s deadpan face crease into another smile. Mr. Keaton glanced at his watch. “How about I give you a call later this evening and let you know how you did?”

  “Jeez, that’d be great!” He was about to leave when he stopped and turned. “You know, if you’re real busy you don’t have to—”

  “I want to. Now get out of here, okay?”

  Jared had walked Cal, played some one on one with Steve in the driveway, eaten supper, done the dishes, finished all his homework, and watched nearly an hour of TV—which included at least three Skylar Wells for Mayor campaign commercials—and Mr. Keaton still hadn’t phoned. He looked at his watch. Three minutes to nine. He surfed the channels, looking for something decent to watch, but found nothing—even the Discovery Channel offered nothing that he wanted to see. Another installment of that reality show with the ex-partners was just about to start, but he certainly wasn’t going to waste his time on that. He looked at his watch again. One minute to nine.

  His mother came up from the basement with a load of laundry, waiting since Monday to be folded, under her arm. Friday night in the St. George household—the excitement never stopped. “He hasn’t called yet?” she asked.

  “Uh-uh.”

  “Maybe he got tied up with something at school. Or maybe he’s at his sister’s again.”

  Jared turned to her. “At his sister’s? I didn’t even know he had a sister. Why would he be there?”

  His mother set the laundry basket on the sofa, sat down, and began to sort and fold the clothes, glancing at the television screen as Jared flipped through the channels again. “She broke her ankle skateboarding,” she said as she separated towels from face cloths.

  “Mr. Keaton has a sister who skateboards?”

  His mom looked over at him. “I…I guess I heard that somewhere. Apparently, she’s very good. Provincial champion two years running.”

  Jared shook his head. “I didn’t think old people skate-boarded.”

  “She’s younger than he is. She’s still in university.” His mother paused. “And he’s not that old, you know. He’s my age.”

  Tired of surfing, Jared muted the television. The opening credits for the reality program had begun to roll. Turning to his mother, he asked, “How do you know all this, anyway?”

  She looked at him, looked at the clothing she was folding, and then at him again. “Jared, there’s something I’ve been meaning to—”

  The phone rang. “I bet that’s him now,” she said, reaching for the cordless. “Hello?” Her eyes lit up. “Hi, we were waiting for your call. Jared’s been dying to know what he—” She paused. Her eyes widened. “Really? Well, that’s fan—”

  Jared’s mother stopped talking. She laid down the towel she was holding and listened to the voice on the other end of the line for what seemed a long time. There were moments when she would start to ask a question or make a comment, but then she’d stop and continue to listen, nodding her head. Finally, she said, “Okay, I’ll tell him. We’ll be there.”

  She listened as the caller said something again. “I know,” she replied. “No one has.” Pause. “Right. Talk to you soon. Bye.” Jared’s mother clicked the phone off and set it down. She didn’t take her hand off it, though. It was as if she’d been caught in a snapshot, a moment frozen in time.

  “Mom?” Jared switched off the television. “What’s wrong?”

  His mother didn’t appear to hear him. She sat looking at the darkened television screen as though watching a program only she could see.

  “Mom?” Jared got up and moved to the sofa, sitting beside her. “You’re scaring me.” He said it as a joke, but the words held some truth.

  His mother picked up the towel on her lap and folded it neatly. “Well, slugger,” she said, “looks like you aced your math
test.”

  “Really? You’re kiddin’. What’d I make?”

  “Eighty-eight percent.”

  “No way! Really?”

  His mother nodded. “Really.”

  Jared leaped from the sofa and capered about the room. “Eighty-eight percent!” He strutted back and forth in front of his mother, his arms raised in victory, his whoops loud enough to shake the windows. Cal began to bark at this unusual display, and Jared took the dog’s front paws and led the barking animal in a noisy, halting dance across the living room.

  His mother finally managed to make herself heard above the racket. “Jared!”

  He turned to her. “Yeah?”

  “There’s a problem.”

  “Whaddya mean ‘a problem’?”

  “Honey, I think you’d better sit down.”

  CHAPTER 23

  The wide hallway was filled with people. Jared was surprised to see so many men and women at the school board office on a Saturday. Didn’t people get weekends off anymore? Then he realized that only a few of them wore the nametags that identified them as board personnel. Several of them seemed to be members of the public, like his mother and himself. Then he saw the videocameras and the microphones.

  A young woman wearing a grey jacket and skirt approached Jared and his mom, who were sitting on chairs beside a closed door bearing a sign that read BOARDROOM. The door was a dark, richly-carved wood, and the handle was a fancy, brass affair that seemed altogether far more knob than any door really needed, especially one that didn’t even lead outside. Jared wondered why anyone would spend that much money on a door and then buy chairs as uncomfortable as the wooden ones he and his mother were sitting on. Very modern, with lots of lines and angles, but he had to keep moving his butt around to keep it from going numb. Of course, maybe that was the point. Maybe you weren’t supposed to sit on them. Maybe they were designed to keep people from hanging around too long. Well, that was okay by him. He’d leave right now if he could. If it hadn’t been for that jerk Rafe, he wouldn’t be here in the first place.