He smiled. “Well, after she pleaded, I relented. I told her we’d see what we could do…didn’t want to seem too anxious.”
“So, what’s the plan?”
“We’d best give this one some thought. You certainly can teach Zack the language, and perhaps you can involve him in your work at the Lawrence Hall of Science. I don’t see how Zack can resist that.”
“What about the others in our program?” she asked.
“We’ll have to proceed with care. His intelligence, emotional stability, and those special gifts make him a perfect fit for the group. This may be the opportunity of a lifetime. Let’s not screw it up.”
A week after Denise talked with Summit, she rushed to answer the phone as she arrived home.
“It's Patricia. I have news.”
“Shoot.”
“I talked with Jorge Moneo about Zack, and although he’s busy, he agreed to meet with him.”
“What does he know of Zack?” Denise asked.
“Enough. I think that’s why he changed his mind about accepting a meeting.”
Denise trembled. “Now, I’m not so sure.”
Patricia laughed. “You’re some piece of work, Denise. Believe me, I understand, but remember, this was your idea.”
“What is he offering?”
“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him. As far as I know, he can offer only two things: lessons in the Basque language, and some degree of participation in the Denisovan School for the Gifted.”
“I don’t know,” Denise said.
“I don’t know either,” Patricia responded. “Meet with Jorge, and then decide.”
When Denise reached Jorge in Emeryville, he said, “I talked with Patricia and I’d love to meet you and your son.”
“Meet with me and my husband first to explore the possibility. We can come to you or we can meet here.”
“Why don’t we meet for coffee? I’m available next week about this time.”
“Where?”
“I know a coffee shop near the Rockridge Bart Station.”
“That’s great. See you soon.”
“I’ll send you our promotional information, but we’re very busy, and I doubt that we’ll have room for your son.”
“Don’t write Zack off too quickly. He’s has an extraordinary mind.”
“All our students are so blessed.”
“But,” Denise said, “Zack’s special.”
Jorge beamed. “See you next week.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jorge Moneo was sitting under the umbrella reading the paper. He’d emailed the coffee shop’s address and the appointment time to Zack’s parents. Although the day was mild, he wore his grey cashmere coat.
As Denise and Gabe crossed from the Bart parking lot, Jorge waved to get their attention. When they came to the table, Jorge rose and bowed slightly. “Jorge Moneo. You must be the Bergs.” He extended a tremulous hand.
Denise stared at it for a moment and then looked away, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”
“It's nothing. Mild Parkinson’s disease. I have it under good control.”
They both shook Jorge’s hand and sat.
“How did you know us? Gabe asked.
“The auburn hair helped, plus I have an eye for Basque women.”
“Me, too,” Gabe said with a smile.
“Can I get you something?” Jorge asked.
“No, I’ll get it,” Gabe said.
As Gabe walked inside to order, Denise was studying Jorge’s face. When he noticed, Denise blushed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude again, but we’ve met before.”
Jorge scratched his nose. “I don’t believe so.”
“Your name, Moneo, and your face—I’m sure we’ve met.”
“When?”
“After Zack’s delivery, we met a man…I’m almost positive it was you, at Brier Hospital. He said he was a priest.”
“My God,” Jorge said. “I don’t believe it!”
“What?” Denise asked.
“You met Alberto—my brother. I forgot that he had been here on sabbatical.”
“Alberto—yes, Alberto. He looks just like you.”
Jorge smiled. “There really is something to genetics.”
“Where is he now?” Denise asked.
“He’s back in Basque country. If he plays his cards right, he might wind up a bishop.”
Just then, Gabe arrived with two tall cappuccinos. He set them on the table. “What did I miss?”
Denise told him about Jorge’s brother.
“That’s why I’d make the world’s worst eye witness. My visual memory sucks.”
“I heard a lot about Zack from Patricia at the Summit program,” Jorge said. “He’s a remarkable child.”
“Can you help us?” Gabe asked.
“Well, I can ask Zeru Ibarra, my associate to teach Zack the Basque language. Do you know her? She works at Cal Berkeley in evolutionary genetics.”
“I’m afraid I don’t,” Gabe said. “Cal’s a big place.”
“Can you tell us a bit about your school for the gifted?” Denise asked.
Jorge smiled. “I could talk about it all day.”
“In a nutshell?” Gabe asked.
Jorge thought for a moment. “I’d like to say that our motives are pure, but I don’t think that’s an apt description. Patricia has told me that you have a Basque background, so you’ll understand that life hasn’t always been easy for our people. Basque patriots tried violent resistance against those who would destroy us, but we failed. Violence was misguided and counterproductive. We’ve disavowed it.”
“Were you involved with the ETA?” Denise asked.
“Only peripherally,” Jorge said. “At the end, the ETA just got it wrong. Terrorism is a failing philosophy except for the intractable few. Now, I think of the Basque people as I do of the Israelis. They’ve built a world that’s the envy of all except all those committed to their destruction. It's hard to attack a people when they are strong, determined, and talented. That’s what the Denisovan School’s all about.”
“We understand and even admire those objectives,” Gabe said, “but I don’t see how they might fit with Zack’s needs.”
“I concur, and I have additional reservations.”
“Such as?” Denise asked.
“Excuse the trite metaphor, but Zack has been a big fish in a small pond. Our students are equally or more gifted than Zack. That might pose a problem for him.”
I doubt that,” Gabe said. “A problem for some, but for Zack, an opportunity.”
“No, you’re right. I learned, all too soon, that raw talent and incredible gifts sometimes wasn’t enough. Prediction is an iffy business, and like you, we simply do the best we can.”
They talked for another thirty minutes about the school, its objectives, and especially its students, and then Jorge said, “Talk it over with Zack. I’d be glad to meet him, and introduce him to our students, but first, you must determine if this is right for him.” He studied Denise and Gabe for a moment. “I’m simply asking that you carefully consider that question. We expend an enormous effort on a student’s behalf. We can’t afford to waste that on someone who’s unsure.”
Gabe and Denise stood. “Thank you so much, Señor Moneo.”
“Jorge, please.”
“We’ll discuss it with Zack and get back to you.”
Jorge stood and offered his hand. “One more thing.”
“Yes?” Gabe asked.
“If we agree, and I mean all of us, I’ll be asking Zeru Ibarra to work with Zack on the language, and, as our approach is real-world oriented, I’ll have Zack work with her at the Lawrence Hall of Science. That makes learning Basque alive. Contextual learning, we’ve discovered, is the best way to teach language.”
“Eskerrik asko,” Denise said with a smile.
Jorge laughed. “You’re welcome. So you do remember some Basque.”
“Enough to get me into tr
ouble or at least find the restroom.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
When Zack got home from basketball practice, he found his parents in the family room reading.
He slumped on the couch exhausted. “Somebody’s gotta control Coach—he’s driving us nuts.”
“The guy wants to win,” Gabe said. “This is how he plans to do it.”
“Look,” Zack said, “I’m going along with this because you want me to, and, yes, for Coach and the team. It means so much to them.”
“But, not to you?” asked Denise.
“I can’t give you a simple answer,” Zack said. “Left to myself, I’m not terribly interested in basketball, but I’m a part of a team I care about. If they need to win, I go for it, too.”
Denise had the brochure from Jorge’s school before her on the coffee table. She handed it to Zack. “Take a look when you have a moment.”
“What is it?” Zack asked.
“We met with Jorge Moneo,” Denise said. “He’s the program director and he’s ready to meet with you.”
Zack picked up the brochure. “About what?”
“His assistant, Zeru Ibarra, is an evolutionary biologist at UC. She’ll be teaching you the Basque language.”
“Fantastic,” Zack shouted. “When do I start?”
“You’ll work that out with Dr. Moneo.” She hesitated.
Zack stared at his mother. “What else?”
“As you’ll see in the brochure,” Gabe said, “he runs the Denisovan School for the Gifted. We’re thinking that you may find their program interesting.”
Zack shook his head. “Denisovan?”
“Dr. Moneo can explain it better than I,” Gabe said. “He started the school in the Basque Country. Denisovan refers to a cave in Siberia that had been inhabited by Neanderthals and humans.”
“What does that have to do with Basques?” Zack asked.
“The Basque people and Neanderthals share a common ancestry,” Denise said. “Dr. Moneo, Zeru Ibarra, and most of the staff have Basque heritage to one degree or another. I’m sure they’ll fill you in.”
“I’m interested in my heritage,” Zack said, “but I’m not sure I want to devote my life and education to it.”
Denise smiled. “We’re not asking you to commit to anything. Just meet with them and decide if the school appeals to you. The choice is strictly up to you.”
“It's about time,” Zack said smiling.
Denise paled. “You really don’t feel that way, do you?”
“Oh, Mother. You’re too easy. I’m just kidding.”
“We know you’re busy,” Gabe said, “but it will be up to you about how much you can fit into your schedule. We’ll help you with the trade-offs, if that’s necessary.”
Zack got up from the couch. “I’ll read this, but go ahead and set it up.”
A week later, Denise, Gabe, and Zack drove to Emeryville to meet with Jorge Moneo.
Jorge gave them the tour of the offices, laboratories, and their huge library/computer center, saving the school for last. When they entered the schoolroom, fifteen students had gathered around a u-shaped table with the professor in the center. The teacher paused when they entered the room.
After a brief introduction, Jorge turned to Zack. “Why don’t you monitor the class. You can meet the students afterward.” He turned to Denise and Gabe. “That is, if it's all right with you.”
Denise and Gabe agreed and waved goodbye to Zack as they left with Jorge.
They returned to Jorge’s office and sat at a table by the west-facing window with a panoramic view of the San Francisco Bay and the city in the distance.
Jorge looked up at Denise and Gabe. “You must have questions?”
“I’m perfectly comfortable with Zack’s opportunity to learn the Basque language,” Denise said, “but on the school, I’ll need much more information.”
Jorge stood and walked to a bookshelf where he pulled out a half-inch booklet labeled, Denisovan School for the Gifted: Courses and Syllabus. He placed it before Denise. “This tells the whole story.”
“Thanks,” Denise said. “We’ll take a look.”
“You may find too much emphasis on the Basque culture and politics, but we make no apology. We are a Basque oriented educational program, after all. If either of you or Zack feel that this isn’t appropriate, that’s fine. We will, however, fulfill our commitment to teach Zack the language.”
They chatted for another thirty minutes, and then Jorge stood. “Let’s retrieve Zack from the class.”
On their way home, Denise turned to Zack. “So, what did you think?”
“It was the weirdest thing.”
“What?” Denise asked.
“When I looked at the group, their appearance suggested that they’re related to each other,” he paused, “and to me. They showed differences, but many had red hair and almost all had pale complexions—much more than would appear in the general population.”
“The Basque people do have characteristic appearances—their genetics make it so,” Denise said. “They are a distinct variation on the human race.”
“I understand that,” Zack said, “but there’s more…”
“Explain?” Gabe asked.
“I’ll try.” He paused. “I’ve never felt quite at home with people, other than with Ella. I’m different. How and why, I’m not sure, but meeting these students…the students of a common heritage, made me feel completely at home with them. It's metaphysical, I know, but it's real…I can feel it.”
“Let’s take some time,” Denise said. “Let’s digest the information we have and decide.”
“Sounds good to me,” Gabe said. “Remember, this isn’t like enlisting in the army…you can always change your mind.”
“Okay,” Zack said, “but, for whatever reason, I’m drawn to the group.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
(age 14)
Zack’s first day at The Denisovan School in Emeryville began with an evening class.
Jorge smiled as he greeted Zack and Denise. “I’m so glad that you decided to join us, Zack. I think you’ll really fit in.”
“I’m looking forward to these classes and getting to know the students,” Zack said.
Jorge opened a folder bearing Zack’s name and made a few notes. “Let me reiterate a few things for both of you. We decided that in addition to your regular school, we’d be supplementing your education with our program. It's important, we feel, to have our students fully comfortable in both worlds. I tried a full-time program in Basque Country and here, but our students did much better if they maintained their ties to their everyday world.”
“What’s Zack’s schedule?” Denise asked.
“Two nights a week, from seven to ten, and all day Saturday. We may add more material when you’re on vacation or holiday from school.”
“That’s a pretty big commitment,” Denise said.
“It is,” Jorge said, “but nothing’s etched in stone. We may be able to accommodate some changes in Zack’s schedule, but remember, if this doesn’t work for Zack, it won’t work for us, either.”
“May I sit in for Zack’s first class?” Denise asked.
Jorge grinned. “It's hard to let go, isn’t it Denise?”
“It's just…” she blurted.
“I understand perfectly, but we do have a few hard and fast rules, and one is, no parents in class.” He paused. “Zack will be waiting with the other students at our front door with a security guard. Please don’t worry. Zack will be just fine.”
“Will we be getting periodic reports?” Denise asked.
“Of course. And, please feel free to grill Zack about the program and his reaction to it.” He stood and checked his watch. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Zack needs to get to class before he’s late. We don’t want to do that on his first day, do we?”
When Jorge and Zack entered the classroom, the students, twelve boys and three girls, were in their seats chatting. Jorge walked up
to a tall, thin, grey-haired man in his sixties, Bernardo Alonso. “Bernardo, meet Zack Berg, your newest student.”
Bernardo offered Zack his hand. “Nice to meet you, Zack. We’ve heard a great deal about you.”
“We?” asked Zack.
“The students and I. Within reason, we have no secrets here.”
“We all have secrets,” Zack said, “and most people need them.”
Bernardo laughed, and turned to Jorge. “You warned me. We’re all,” he swept his arm to the students, “going to get along swimmingly.”
Jorge headed for the door. “He’s in your hands now.”
After Jorge left, Bernardo guided Zack through the room as each student introduced him or herself with a smile and a warm handshake.
When they reached the end of the first row, a boy of sixteen or seventeen rose. He was almost the mirror image of Zack. “Adam Conner.” He smiled. “Good to have some fresh blood—it's been a while.”
Zack nodded in return. “Conner doesn’t sound like much of a Basque name.”
“Neither does Berg.” He paused. “We may be Basque, but we’re certified mongrels, too.”
After the introductions, Zack took his seat.
Bernardo stood at the front of the room. “You’ve all heard it before, but this is for Zack’s sake. We encourage the free exchange of ideas in this class. Anything goes, but we have one proviso: no ad hominem attacks. You may attack any idea, philosophy, and even deeply held personal beliefs at any time, but not the person. Personal attacks only destroy and have no part in our endeavors. They only serve to erect barriers among us.”
“Zack, why don’t you come up here and tell us a little about yourself.”
Zack hated to speak before any group, but his initial stomach cramps subsided quickly as he stood before the class. He talked for about thirty minutes, touching on his parents, his activities, Ella, Kenny, and his feeling of estrangement from the community at large.
When he finished, Adam Conner stood. “You’ll find that all of us share that feeling. That’s why we love it here.” He paused. “Welcome, brother.”
Hybrid (Brier Hospital Series Book 7) Page 9