CHAPTER FIFTEEN – SCHOOL
Mister Alan Garner, the principal, had studied Aggie’s past educational history from her old school in Miami. It showed that she was, for all intents and purposes, an average student with no exceptional talent. Her absences from class due to past ailments and hospitalisation had obviously impacted on her record and he was sure that Aggie may have to repeat her last school year. Edna pleaded with him not to do that, but he finally did offer some comprise, allowing Aggie to undergo some assessment and aptitude tests. This was arranged through the Vermont State Educational Division, under the supervision of an independent examiner who had no knowledge of the candidate and his/her current level of education. This would ensure for a fair and unbiased result.
The ensuing report, in part, noted... that the applicant has an extremely high degree of general, social and technical awareness and mental aptitude. Academic and scholastic knowledge was similarly extremely high, so much so, that certain elements, as listed in Annexure A to this report, could not be measured by conventional means available to the Division. Problem solving and analytical abilities are well above the average standard. It was noted that an intelligence quotient evaluation was performed using both the Stanford-Binet and the Wechsler tests, resulting an I.Q. score of 160.....further assessment by the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) under the direction of the New England Association of Schools and Colleges, Inc. (NEASC), is strongly recommended...
Needless to say, Aggie would not have to repeat the class. Since her first day at school, she had settled in without any hassles and got on well with her fellow classmates. Her teacher, Miss Michelle, of course had pre-warned the children in the class of Aggie’s loss of her parents and to look after her as she was now an orphan – and they did. Some would come up to her during recess and tap their hands on her shoulder and offer her some fruit or candy. “Come play with us Aggie”, “chase me Aggie”, or “I know a secret about Caitlin and Brian, Aggie, want to know?” Aggie did not feel at all out of place, after all, she was doing what a little girl was supposed to do.
A buzz did go around the teacher group concerning Aggie - it was the familiar comment of “just how mature and advanced are her words, her diction and phrasing – she is something very special – and so smart.” Miss Michelle became quite the focal point during lunch breaks – everyone wanted to know what Aggie had said or done during the lessons. Aggie seemed to have a never ending store of information on apparently any subject one chose. She would come out with things that her own teacher was not aware of. She even showed the kids in the class, some amazing short cuts to find answers to mathematical problems.
She had a wonderful way of explaining things to the class and Miss Michelle loved these diversions. Aggie would demonstrate how Greek and Latin derivation was embedded in the English language, and Miss Michelle was absolutely awestruck to find that Aggie knew the complete table of logarithms, algebraic equations, calculus and the mysteries of trigonometry.
She could give an answer to any number to a power of anything, quicker than one could tap the buttons on an electronic calculator.
She also had an in-depth knowledge of the Abenaki and other aboriginal nations, including their histories, customs and other interesting facts. Often, Miss Michelle was bemused to see some of the faces of her fellow colleagues, peering through the classroom window when Aggie was invited to come to the front to explain something.
As to show and tell, Aggie was seeking permission, from Mr Garner, for a field trip to show her class an actual Abenaki tradition – the celebration of a warrior’s funeral. This was however, duly (and tactfully) rejected by the principal, much to Edna’s relief.
Even the older children in the higher grades took a liking to his delightful, cheery and smart kid who had come here from the world of the flatlanders. They never regarded her as being a snob or prissy, indeed she interacted warmly with each one, almost from the first meeting when she would introduce herself, shake their hands and show a genuine interest in talking with them. They all knew the name Kellor, they all knew her father had been an astronaut and spent time in the space station and they all knew he was a past student of their own school. She certainly was smart and everybody wanted to know her and be her friend. When Edna drove up to the school gates in the morning, a group of kids would be waiting for her, just to say good morning and walk her to her class. Afternoon was the same. Edna knew just where to pull up in the truck; just look for a group of kids, milling around a little girl.
Edna would ask about her day and Aggie would rattle off what had happened, any gossip she had heard and what she enjoyed most. Edna never got tired of hearing these often mysterious and baffling stories and incidents. One afternoon on the way home from school, they were stopped at the traffic lights in Putney – the only traffic lights in Putney – waiting for the red light to change. Aggie said “there was something interesting that happened today Aunt. After you dropped me off this morning, Miss Michelle put her hand on my head and said good morning. I didn’t know why, but at that moment, Dwarg seemed to switch off and I could only feel a tiny bit of his presence. After lunch, I could feel that he was active again. He said he was investigating something and then said that Miss Michelle was related to Joan Domremy.
“I’ve heard of that name, I think it’s out of Quebec, correct?” asked Edna.
“No no, Domremy is a little village in France; he was talking about Joan of Arc – Joan was born there.”
The sound of a car horn in Putney was unusual and nearby people would turn their heads to see what was going on. The honking came from the car behind Edna whose driver had been more than patient waiting for her to go through the green light ahead. Edna accelerated from the spot with a wave of apology.
“And she’s related to her?”
“Yes, pretty much directly, but she doesn’t know about it. Her mother was born in France. Somehow Dwarg was able to trace the chromosomes of her family right back to Joan. Now isn’t that interesting?”
“Wow that is interesting darling.” Edna tried hard to work out what the hell Dwarg was up to now – and what on earth was a damn chromosome anyway?
Occasionally, Edna would turn the tables on Aggie with surprises. One day after picking Aggie up from school and listening to interesting prattle, Edna turned to Aggie and said, “Guess what honey, there’s a fan of yours, back at the house.”
“Who is it Aunt?”
“Ah, it’s a surprise - you’ll have to wait and see, honey-bunch.” – even Dwarg showed a feint interest.
Aggie nearly tripped over the pups as she raced to the front door to see who was waiting for her. “In your room Aggie” shouted Edna who was still getting out of the pick-up. Aggie slowly opened the door to her room - no-one was here!
She looked around her room, and then saw it on her bed.
It was a feathered ceremonial fan, beautifully adorned with multicoloured trim and threads. The brilliant white feathers of the fan were large, and at the black tip of each, fine silky silver strands cascaded down. Soft eider and gathered delicate plumage had been interwoven into the band which held the feathers and the fan together. Aggie could only gasp in wonderment.
“You’ll be needing that for your dance Aggie. It used to be mine and I’ve been working on it for a while now, making it more suitable for you. Don’t even need a Medeoulin to bless it - it’s ready to go – hold it like this - now let me see some of your steps sweetheart.”
Aggie was utterly stunned. For the first time in at least a year, she began to cry. Her tears were tears of joy – another darn Human emotion that Dwarg had to study and interpret.