Kassie, Girl Genius Book 1: Student

By Gregory Tetrault

Kassie is seven-years-old and brilliant. But, her life isn’t easy despite a loving family. Kasie has no friends, because no child close to her age will befriend a genius. Kassie hates school and survives only by ignoring her teacher and reading classic literature and junior high school textbooks. Students her age take a standard IQ test—Kassie completes it with no mistakes. Kassie does the same on a tougher test, and her IQ is recorded as greater than 190. This super-genius score gets Kassie a scholarship to the Academy of the Mind in Omaha, a boarding school far from her home in Ithaca, New York. Kassie will miss her family, but she looks forward to being among sixty-three other geniuses. She expects a great learning environment with formal and informal sharing of knowledge among well-behaved schoolmates who know that the Golden Rule gives the best outcome for social interactions.

Kassie doesn’t mind rooming with a nine-year-old boy because she shared a room with her brother. She also doesn’t mind the coed bathrooms with a nudity allowed policy. However, only two nine-year-old boys in the other dorm are nude in the bathroom. Kassie could be a nudist, but she shows only brief glimpses of the side of her body while she dries off after showering. Kassie doesn’t understand why such a boring display results in spying by numerous nine- to eleven-year-old boys. She takes action to minimize the spying, but the action backfires and causes worse problems.

By her third day, Kassie has learned that most of her schoolmates don’t follow the Golden Rule—rudeness and insults are common. Most students have live interactions with only a handful of friends in the dining hall. Most students sit in front of their computers all day for learning and interactive gaming.

Kassie announces that the Academy is sick, and she assigns herself the role of doctor. She organizes clubs and fun activities to drag schoolmates away from their computers. She advocates discussion groups and lectures by schoolmates. Her actions improve the Academy, but she makes enemies among students who don’t want to leave their dorm room workstations.

Kassie confronts a very different problem in her second semester. Her friend Burt lies comatose after an auto accident, and Kassie struggles with hospital bureaucracies because she wants to spend three hours a day helping her friend. She knows that reading to Burt, playing his favorite music, having him smell foods that he likes, and touching him might pull him out of his coma. No one else will do this, and Kassie struggles to be with Burt. Burt wakes and slowly recovers. He gives a presentation on traumatic brain injury and states that Kassie’s efforts kept him from remaining comatose and being warehoused for life. This public praise does not have the positive effect for Kassie that Burt expects.

Kassie finishes the school year wiser and happier. She went from no friends to many, and she values that more than her learning and her academic achievements. She’s excited about living with her nearly perfect family instead of interacting only via Skype. But, in ten weeks, the Academy physician will return.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gregory Tetrault
• Release date: Feb 14, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311738660

Gregory Tetrault

Gregory Tetrault grew up in Phoenix, New York, a small town north of Syracuse. He attended medical school at SUNY Downstate Medical Center. Dr. Tetrault became a clinical pathologist and directed medical laboratories for twenty years. He started writing novels after he retired. The Jennifer's Magic trilogy was published in 2015. Kassie, Girl Genius, is a contemporary fiction series. The first two novels were published in February 2016. He’s working on a third Kassie novel.

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Kassie, Girl Genius

Book 1 — Student

Gregory Tetrault

©2015

Kassie, Girl Genius

Book 1 — Student

Copyright ©2015 by Gregory Tetrault

All rights reserved.

Published by Troll Press.

Edition 1.0  November 2015

Book 1 — Student

Prologue

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Kassie ignores her teacher, something she has done continually since the second day of kindergarten. Kassie learned the third grade syllabus before she was five. She could do seventh and eighth grade work while in first grade. Her mother, a local high school English teacher, browbeat school administrators for two years before they reluctantly let Kassie skip second grade. Kassie should have skipped six or seven grades. Kassie feels mild interest in the intelligence test this afternoon. All second grade students get tested, but she will take it as a new third grader. The appeal of the IQ test increases since she will not have to hear this afternoon’s lessons in reading and propagandized US history. Kassie’s Kindle contains English literature, high school science and math textbooks, and modern novels. Her Kindle also contains the few good sociology and psychology books and papers she has found—good writings in those fields are as rare as gold flecks in a pan of gravel. Kassie sometimes brings a printed book, usually from a library, when there is no Kindle version or only an expensive one. This morning she reads a library book about game theory. Many of the concepts are difficult, but she enjoys the challenge of understanding and mastering them.

Kassie eats lunch alone, as usual. She has no friends. She debates what to do with the intelligence test. Should I do my best, or should I miss questions so I won’t be considered a super brainiac? Everyone knows I’m a brainiac, so I’ll do my best.

After lunch, she walks to one of the second grade classrooms. The test begins at one o’clock and lasts until three. Kassie wishes she could skip the questions designed for the mentally retarded and go right to the difficult questions. She breezes through the many easy questions by 1:40. She blows through the less easy questions by 2:10. There are no moderately difficult questions. Students must stay until three o’clock, so Kassie carefully checks her answers. She doesn’t change a single one.

* * * * *

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Kassie suffers from boredom within one minute of starting school. She must listen to roll call, school announcements, and the mandatory recitation of the pledge of allegiance that she does not stand up for and refuses to parrot. She takes her Kindle from her book bag and selects Adventures of Huckleberry Finn for some light reading. Her classmates practice writing in cursive. She ignores the writing worksheet on her desk. Kassie refuses to learn cursive. She learned to print legibly when she was four. She types fifty-five words per minute when using a small keyboard. Ms. Garnet will give her a zero and complain to her parents, but Kassie doesn’t care. She had a B-minus average in first grade because she refused to do make-work tasks. Those memories make her angry. She calms herself and begins to read.

An assistant in the guidance office pulls Kassie out of class at one thirty. Kassie follows her to Ms. Marshall’s office. Please close the door, Kassie. She does so and stands there. Please sit down, Kassie. Kassie hops onto the nearest chair, which is adult-size. I’d like to talk with you about the intelligence test. She waits for a response. Kassie says nothing. She never talks to adults at school unless they ask a question. How do you think you did?

Well, Kassie responds.

What does that mean to you?

It means I did well. What else could it mean? Kassie replies nonchalantly.

Can you be more specific? Ms. Marshall inquires.

I answered all questions correctly, Kassie replies with no hint of pride in her voice.

No one’s ever done that before.

Kassie says nothing.

Do you know what it means to answer all questions correctly?

It means I’m a genius, but you don’t know how much of a genius because the test is not designed to work with really high IQs, Kassie answers.

We’d like to administer a more challenging test.

Kassie says nothing.

You could find out your exact IQ.

Kassie says nothing.

Would you like to do that?

What are the benefits for me? Kassie asks.

You’d know how smart you are.

Kassie says nothing.

Aren’t you interested in knowing your IQ?

That doesn’t mean much to me. What other benefits are there?

There are special schools for geniuses. You could go if you qualify.

Kassie, interested for the first time, breaks her rule. Are they free?

No, they’re expensive.

Kassie sighs. Then, taking the test has little value. My family has no money to spare. We’re caring for my sick grandmother, and she needs a caretaker while Mom and Dad work. My parents can barely pay the bills.

Some schools have scholarships. If they learn that you’re really smart, you could win a scholarship.

Kassie says, I’ll take the test.

A district psychologist will come here next Tuesday to administer the test.

Why a psychologist? Kassie asks.

Some parts of the test are oral, and those parts must be administered by a trained person. There also will be mental and physical tasks, such as sorting or arranging objects that need a trained evaluator.

Kassie, for the first time, finds something to like about public school.

* * * * *

Friday, October 3, 2014

Kassie and her parents enter the Guidance Department at five thirty. They will pay the caretaker, Mrs. Orozco, extra for staying late and watching Duncan and Grandma. Ms. Marshall directs the Grunwalds to a small conference room. Dr. Prior, the psychologist who administered the intelligence test, introduces herself.

I’m sure that Kassie told you about taking a special intelligence test, Ms. Prior states.

Kassie’s dad glares at her and says, This is the first we heard about it.

Kassie’s mom whispers, Why didn’t you say anything?

It wasn’t a big deal, Kassie responds in a normal voice.

On the contrary, Ms. Prior claims, it is a very big deal. Kassie did amazingly well. Her IQ is greater than one-ninety.

What? Mr. Grunwald says. We knew she was very smart, but that’s Einstein-level intelligence!

Perhaps higher. Einstein’s IQ was estimated to be just above one hundred and sixty, but the estimates couldn’t take into account his phenomenal science and math abilities. Ms. Prior replies. Incredibly few people are as smart as Kassie. The question now is what to do with her. She could finish the high school curriculum in two years.

Kassie interrupts, One.

Dr. Prior continues, She needs an educational institution appropriate to her abilities.

Mr. Grunwald says, We love Kassie and want what’s best for her, but we can’t afford a private school.

Ms. Marshall replies, Kassie told me. After learning Kassie’s IQ, Ms. Prior and I contacted boarding schools for geniuses. The Academy of the Mind in Omaha has an opening, and it will provide a full scholarship for Kassie.

Is that a good school? Mr. Grunwald asks. Shouldn’t it have a waiting list?

The school has a waiting list. However, most children don’t want to start in mid-semester, and none of the girls on the waiting list would room with a boy, which is the only dormitory room available. Dr. Pomerance recommended to the school’s board that Kassie be bumped to the top of the list because she’s young and because of her incredibly high IQ.

Mrs. Grunwald sighs. I wish it were closer. Kassie, what do you want?

Unless the school is run by ogres, I want to go. Her parents look at each other and nod.

Ms. Marshall asks, Are all of you okay about Kassie rooming with a boy?

How old? Kassie’s Mom asks.

He’s nine years old.

Kassie nods. Her mom says, Kassie shares a room with her nine-year-old brother, so we don’t see a problem.

Ms. Marshall says, I’ll contact the Academy and get started on the arrangements. You’ll soon get a call from Dr. Pomerance, the principal of the Academy. He knows to call in the evening.

Kassie asks, Do I have to go to this school any longer?

Ms. Marshall answers, Attendance is mandatory until you transfer.

Kassie frowns. Joy.

* * * * *

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Kassie will miss her parents and Duncan. A lot. She loves them dearly, especially Duncan who never treats her as a pesky little sister and plays with her often. Sharing a bedroom for the past fifteen months made her closer to him. They finish breakfast quickly. Kassie, Duncan, and their parents get into their minivan at eight fifteen and drive to the Ithaca Tompkins Regional Airport. They arrive at eight thirty. Kassie gets a luggage cart, and her dad loads her two big suitcases. Duncan joins them, and Kassie’s mom drives away to park the minivan. Kassie checks in at the Delta counter. They wait a few minutes for Kassie’s mom, and then they head towards the gates and the worse than worthless security check.

Kassie minimized the risk of security troubles by wearing a snug shirt and putting only folded tissues in the pockets of her jeans. Her small carryon bag contains only a T-shirt, panties, and a pair of socks in case she’s stuck overnight; a toiletries kit; a cell phone; an iPod and earphones; some snack bars; and a Kindle.

Before getting in line for security clearance, Kassie says, I don’t know which is worse, the nudie scan or the groping. What do you think?

Her mom says, It’s not a nudie scan.

Yes, it is, Kassie counters.

Her dad gives her a stern look. This airport doesn’t have a body scanner, so it doesn’t matter.

Detroit airport scans incoming passengers. Can I dance?

Her dad replies, I don’t know, can you?

Hey! I’m the one who’s supposed to make the smart remarks.

Duncan says, We all make smart remarks. You just make them faster.

Her dad says, Miss Smart Remarks better obey the guards and follow the instructions for the Detroit scanner. I do not want to fly to Detroit to get you out of a TSA holding area.

Can’t I just strip? Then, I won’t have to get zapped by the scanner, and the Nazi guards won’t need to grope me.

Her dad says, Are you doing this so we’ll miss you less?

No, it’s because I’m excited, nervous, and sad, Kassie retorts. Take this. She says to her dad while holding out her carryon. When he does, she turns, and gives Duncan a strong hug. I’ll miss you so much. Duncan tries not to cry but doesn’t succeed. It’s your turn, Mom.

Her mom hugs her for a long time. Kassie and her mom both weep. Kassie hugs her dad, and tears run down his cheeks. Kassie’s glad that her dad doesn’t hide his emotions. She says, Please don’t wait, or I’ll fall apart. Just go now. She takes her carryon, turns, and walks to the security clearance line. She waits in line for fifteen minutes before reaching the x-ray scanner conveyer belt. That’s enough time for her to stop crying and use one of her tissues to wipe her cheeks and nose. I should have brought more. She takes off her sneakers and belt and puts them in a plastic tray. She puts her carryon bag on the conveyor belt. The screeners don’t see guns, knives, bottles of liquid explosives, hockey sticks, cattle prods, or aerosol cans, so she passes that part of security screening. Kassie shows her boarding pass and goes through the metal detector. She then goes to Mr. Groper. Despite wearing a snug shirt, he pats her upper body. Got to follow the rules, no exceptions. He frisks her legs from her crotch down. She wants to touch his crotch with a swift kick. If any other man anywhere in the country touched her like that, he would go to prison for child molestation. Now that there’s strong evidence that she isn’t a terrorist or a hijacker, she is allowed to put on her sneakers and belt and retrieve her carryon. She walks along the wide corridor and finds the waiting area for her gate. She shows her boarding pass to the Delta agent at the tall counter. The boarding pass has a code for unaccompanied minors between eight and fourteen years old. Her parents lied about her age because younger minors can’t take flights with plane changes without being accompanied by an adult.

Security was supposed to call us so someone could meet you, Denise, the blond, thirtyish agent says.

Kassie says, They were more interested in groping my crotch.

Denise struggles to suppress a laugh. The flight is on time. Boarding begins at approximately 9:20. A Delta employee will bring you onto the plane. You’ll board in the first group.

Wow! I get to board with the passengers flying first class. I feel special already!

Are you always like this?

No, but, I can be a smartass when I’m nervous.

Again, Denise struggles not to laugh.

Don’t worry, I won’t report you if you laugh.

Denise does. Do you know the procedure at Detroit? Denise asks.

I wait in the plane until a flight attendant escorts me. A different Delta employee will take me to the nudie scanner and then the Delta lounge.

Two people wait behind Kassie, so she says, I’ll let you help these other passengers. It’s not yet nine o’clock, so she’ll wait at least twenty minutes before boarding. She finds a seat, gets out her Kindle, and pages through the list of books. She chooses the Ben Bova sci-fi book The Precipice. She prefers sci-fi that isn’t mostly fantasy.

* * * * *

Kassie hears the announcement that boarding is open for first class passengers, Sky Priority passengers, and passengers who need assistance. Kassie shuts off and stows her Kindle. She walks to the line and smiles when Denise approaches her. Denise asks, Would you like to hold my hand?

If it will make you feel better.

Denise smiles at that, and Kassie takes her hand. Are you eight years old?

Yes.

You look eight, but you don’t act it.

That’s because I’m a genius. I’m going to a special school in Omaha.

How do you feel about that? Denise asks.

I’ll miss my family, but it will be nice to have a challenging school and to be with brilliant kids. I’m still nervous, though.

They walk along the passenger boarding bridge. Denise comments, You’re very forthright. I hope you don’t lose that trait.

I probably won’t, but I expect that trait to cause trouble for me, especially when I get out of school, Kassie replies.

They enter the airplane, and Denise escorts her to row twelve. Kassie’s seat is 12E, the window seat on the starboard side of the plane. She sidles in, sits, and puts her carryon bag on the middle seat. Thank you very much Denise.

You’re very welcome. I hope the school meets all your expectations. Goodbye. She turns and walks away.

Kassie sighs. She would love to have a friend like Denise. Maybe there will be teachers or older kids like her at the Academy. She takes her iPod and earphones out of her carryon and shoves the carryon under the seat in front of her. She flew two years ago and hated the engine noise. Her earphones are an expensive present from her dad’s parents. When she wants to read, she’ll play light instrumental music at low volume to block the engine noise. She wants to talk with whoever sits next to her, so she puts the iPod and earphones in the seat back pouch.

Denise, before leaving the plane, tells two flight attendants about Kassie. She advises them to talk to Kassie like an adult but treat her like a nervous eight-year-old traveling alone for the first time.

The man who sits next to her wears slacks and a nice polo shirt. He’s fortyish, white, brown haired, about five feet ten, and slightly overweight. Kassie’s glad he isn’t obese. After he gets settled he looks at her.

She smiles. Hi, I’m Kassie.

I’m Alan Johnson. Nice to meet you.

Is Detroit your destination?

No, I’m going to Chicago. How about you?

Omaha.

Are you traveling alone?

No, there are scores of people on the plane.

Mr. Johnson chuckles. I shall be very specific from now on. Do you have a relative, guardian, or close adult friend on this plane?

Kassie laughs. I made you sound like a lawyer. No, I’m unaccompanied.

Are you nervous?

I’m nervous, but only some of that is from traveling. The rest is about starting a new life.

Did your parents die?

No, nothing horrid like that. I’ll be attending a boarding school in Omaha, and I don’t know anyone.

That’s a big change. Why go to a school far away from home?

I need a school for brilliant children. The Academy of the Mind in Omaha has an opening and a scholarship. It accepts kids from six to eighteen, but only sixty-four of us.

So there will be few students your age.

Possibly none. I’m used to slightly older kids. My brother’s two years older than me, and I adore him. I never had friends, and I hope I don’t muck things up and make other kids hate me.

Sounds like that’s happened to you. It must be tough for a genius to make friends of the same age.

You’re right about that. Most kids don’t want to be around a genius. Some of those who do just want a good look at a freak. And, unfortunately, I sometimes have a smart mouth that turns off the few that might like me.

I was a smart-mouthed kid in high school, and I had few friends, so I know what you mean. Do you have older friends or adult friends?

No adult friends. Most are afraid they’ll be shown up by a young genius. One of my brother’s friends is nice to me, but we aren’t really friends. At least my parents are wonderful. They’re smarter than average, but not even close to me. But, they’ve never treated me like a freak or a problem kid. I’m lucky in that respect. We love each other, and my Mom and Dad love each other a lot. Many of my classmates’ parents are divorced or separated.

I wasn’t as lucky. My parents split up when I was thirteen, and they were never loving to me and my siblings.

You seem to have survived well. I have some questions. Why are you talking to me?

Sometimes I want to do something other than read on a plane. I like children, especially smart ones. I also like your openness. What’s your next question?

How smart are you?

I’m far above average, but I’m not close to being a genius.

What do you do?

I’m a clinical pharmacologist.

Were you visiting Cornell?

Yes, I met some friends and gave a presentation yesterday afternoon.

That sounds nice. What kind of clinical pharmacologist are you, R and D or hospital?

I’m amazed that you know what clinical pharmacologists do. I work at Rush University Medical Center.

Do you do clinical research and patient care?

That’s correct. Do you have a special interest in medicine?

I like the sciences, and after I studied anatomy and physiology, I read about medical fields.

Do you plan to work in a medical field?

I need to study many fields in depth before deciding. Right now, my favorite subject is chemistry. I like math, too.

That’s interesting. My undergraduate degree is in chemistry. Perhaps our similar interests are why we’re getting along so well.

That may be part of the reason. The bigger part is that you are a very nice person.

I have a question for you. Are you physically fit?

Not really. Our twice-a-week gym classes are a joke. I don’t run around much at home.

I recommend that you take an hour a day to do three things: aerobic exercise such as running or biking, stretching alone or with yoga or tai chi or something similar, and meditating for at least ten minutes. You’ll find that getting fit and taking breaks from studying will help. You can think during running and stretching, and the thinking can be about studies, or relationships, or building a fantasy world.

Do you do all those?

I got lots of exercise as a child, most of it after school. I didn’t do stretching until I joined the high school wrestling team. I didn’t meditate until graduate school, but as a kid I took long walks in the woods by myself that was almost as good. I still exercise, stretch, and meditate, but the exercise hasn’t prevented weight gain; it only slows it down.

Maybe the Academy will have a real exercise program. It should, since its run by smart people.

If it doesn’t, you could suggest that they do. Perhaps other students will feel the same way.

I suspect that many students will want to study and play computer games all day long and will forget to eat meals unless someone drags them to the cafeteria, Kassie states.

You’re probably right. But, with sixty-four geniuses, I’m sure that many have read the studies about exercise and learning.

Perhaps. What was grad school like?

I attended the University of Minnesota, one of the top five clinical pharmacology schools. I hate to imagine what the less-than-top-five schools were like. The lecture courses were ridiculously easy. They used mostly multiple-choice exams, so those who memorized well got A’s. We had a few seminar courses, but they had fifteen to twenty students, which are too many. Students graduated after mediocre defenses of poor theses. I was the top student, but I didn’t feel very proud.

Yuck. Maybe I’ll self-educate and skip college and grad school.

If you’re smart enough, you may get away with that. Unfortunately, most employers look at the paper credentials rather than knowledge, skills, and abilities.

I believe I will be able to get around that when the time comes.

Perhaps a genius could. How far into genius range are you?

They couldn’t measure, so my IQ’s at least one-ninety.

Wow. I’ve worked with physicians with IQs in the one-sixty to one-seventy range, but I’ve never met anyone as smart as you.

Will you stop speaking to me now?

He chuckles. Yes, but not because you’re a super-genius. I’m presenting at a conference after dinner, and I need to review my presentation and my notes. I’m going to other presentations this afternoon, so my only time to review is while I’m flying. I have something for you. He leans to the right and pulls his wallet out of his left rear pants pocket. He opens his wallet and pulls out a white business card. He plucks a pen from his shirt pocket and writes a phone number on the back of the card. He hands her the card. The number on the back is my cell phone. The front has the number for my office. If you want to talk, call me at any time. Leave a message if I don’t pick up. My e-mail address is on the card if you want to write.

Kassie’s eyes well up with tears. Thank you so much. It’s nice to have a friend.

It is my privilege to be your friend. He retrieves his carryon bag and pulls out a folder. Kassie is too shaken to read, and she tries not to cry. She uses a tissue to dry her eyes. The fasten seat belt sign is off, so she squeezes past Mr. Johnson and the man in the aisle seat and explores the airplane.

A female flight attendant asks if she needs anything. No, I just need to walk around. She walks to the first class curtain, and then to the back of the cabin two times. She uses a lavatory. She walks along the aisle, sighs again, and returns to her seat. She’s slightly happy and moderately sad and wants to suppress the latter mood. She retrieves her iPod and earphones and listens to pop and rock songs, most of which have stupid lyrics. She pays attention to the lyrics and ridicules them in her head. That usually numbs her emotions, both the bad and, unfortunately, the good.

* * * * *

Kassie looks out the window as they descend. She sees the Detroit River and downtown Detroit. The plane turns to port with minimal banking, and now she sees miles of rectangular grids with thousands of homes. The plane flies over a highway just as the landing gear locks into place. The plane gently touches down a minute later. She listens to her iPod as they taxi and then stop at the gate. She’ll be the last one off. Mr. Johnson puts his papers in his folder and puts them in his carryon bag. The passengers deplane. She removes her earphones. Mr. Johnson stands so he can step out and get his overhead bag. Mr. Johnson. He turns towards her. May I hug you?

I’m sorry, but I must decline. Someone could report me for child molestation. But, I think a kiss on my cheek will be okay. He squats down, and Kassie kisses his right cheek.

Goodbye. I hope your presentation goes well, Kassie says with false cheerfulness.

I hope so, too. I hope you like your new school. Goodbye.

Kassie sits in her seat and resumes listening to her iPod. I won’t cry, I won’t cry, I won’t!

The song ends, and Kassie puts her iPod and earphones in her carryon bag. She breathes slowly and deeply while watching the last few passengers disembark. When the last passenger reaches the front of the first class section, a tall, black, female flight attendant approaches. Her name tag reads Kalisha. Hello, Kassie, I’ll be taking you to the Delta Sky Club Lounge closest to gate A25, which is the one for your Omaha flight.

Thank you. Do you know what food they have in the lounge?

It just has snacks such as nuts, cheese, and crackers. Do you need more than that?

Yes, I’m hungry. I was too nervous to eat much breakfast.

We’ll go to the food court and then backtrack to the lounge. The lounge has lots of drinks, but not milk.

Water, soda, or juice will be fine, Kassie says.

They have to pass through the nudie scanner, which makes even less sense than usual. Why scan passengers who went through security at other airports? Kassie behaves, and they walk to the food court. Kalisha asks, What kind of food do you want?

A sandwich.

She finds a kiosk that has tuna salad on a croissant with a cup of melon pieces and grapes. They are in a clear plastic tray. She surprises the clerk and Kalisha by paying with a credit card. Kalisha says, I’ve never seen a child as young as you with a credit card.

I don’t like to carry a lot of cash. I’ve been on my parents’ credit card since I was six. I rarely use it except for online purchases. I’ll use it more now that I’m away from home.

When will you go home?

Not until winter break that starts nine weeks from today.

That’s a long time to be away.

It will be worse next year, because I won’t go home for almost six months.

I hope your school is worth it.

I think it will be. I won’t get to be with my family, but I’ll see and talk with them every evening.

They reach the lounge, and Kalisha holds the door for Kassie. Kassie finds a place to eat and puts down her food and carryon bag. Kalisha shows her the drinks. Kassie happily takes a small bottle of cranberry juice. She opens the plastic tray and takes a big bite of her tuna salad croissandwich. Kalisha says, I’ll tell another employee to bring you to the gate. Bye, Kassie.

Kassie swallows and says, Bye, Kalisha. Thank you. She knows there isn’t much time, so she eats rapidly and washes down croissandwich bites with cranberry juice. She puts down the remaining half of her croissandwich and eats all the fruit. She’s still hungry, but she’s too stressed to eat the rest of the sandwich. She brings her carryon bag to the ladies’ room. She pees, washes her hands, gets her toilet kit, and brushes her teeth. She exits the ladies’ room and sees an impatient-looking Delta employee named Gerald.

Come along, Kassie. Boarding will start in a few minutes. Please give me your boarding pass. She pulls it from the outer pocket of her carryon.

She trots to keep up with him. Why is he in such a rush? They reach gate A25 in just over a minute. Gerald leads her to the kiosk and tells the two female employees, This is Kassie Grunwald. Here’s her boarding pass. He walks away faster than he walked with Kassie. Jayne, the kiosk worker, says, I’ll escort you onto the plane. We’ll board in just a minute.

Kassie sees no nearby empty seats in the waiting area, so she walks to the windows and looks at planes attached to passenger boarding bridges and planes taxiing to and from the terminal. She hears the first boarding announcement and goes back to the kiosk to meet Jayne. She asks, Is this your first time flying alone?

Today is my first day of flying alone, but this is my second flight.

How has your day been?

The beginning was bad because I didn’t like being groped by a man. Apparently, he wanted to be sure that I didn’t have plastic explosives molded into the shapes of labia. The first flight was good, because I had a great conversation with a very nice man. Lunch was rushed, and now I’m here getting on flight two.

I’m sorry about your bad experience at the first airport. You could have reported him.

Right, she says sarcastically. All he did was press upward a little more and a little harder than the guidelines permit. Since the guidelines permit public child molestation, no one will care about slightly more molestation.

Wow. You don’t sound like an eight-year-old.

I get that a lot. I sound like a very, very smart eight-year-old.

Ah. Here you go, seat eighteen-bee. Have a good flight.

Thank you, Jayne. I’ll have a good flight if I don’t become sandwich filling. With my luck, I’ll be between two hefty Cornhuskers. She opens her carryon and puts her iPod, earphones, and Kindle into the seat pocket. She watches the other passengers and guesses their ages, jobs, marital status, and ancestry. It would be more fun if she could learn the answers. Her first row-mate arrives. He puts a big bag into the overhead compartment, and then he stuffs a bag under the aisle seat. He’s stocky but not obese, average height, fortyish, and has dark blond hair. He looks like a Cornhusker. He glances at her but says nothing. She’ll say hello once everyone is settled. Ten seconds after he sits their other row-mate appears. She’s thin, tall, thirtyish, and white with very short frosted brown hair. She looks as though she hates flying. Then again, she could hate everything. Mr. Cornhusker gets up and moves back two steps. He offers to put her bag in the overhead luggage bin, but she glares at him. When she turns to pick up her bag, his mouth turns down and he shakes his head. She has no trouble lifting and stowing her bag. She sidles past Kassie, sits, and puts her carryon bag on her lap. She also has a purse on her lap, so her carryon bag is scrunched horizontally. Kassie says, I can lift the armrest.

She looks at Kassie as though she were a big swollen earthworm on a sidewalk after a heavy rain. What a charming woman. Mr. Cornhusker is settled in, so she turns to him and says, Hello, my name is Kassie.

Hello, Kassie. I’m John Borek.

Are your ancestors from Czechoslovakia?

Are you Czech?

No, but I read many books, and one of the characters had that last name. I looked it up and found that it was Czech for someone who comes from a place with forest in the name such as Forest Town or Pineville.

You know more about my name than I do.

We have similar name meanings. My last name means green woods in German.

You sure do know a lot. I’ll bet your parents are proud of you.

They are, but their love is more important.

Smart and wise, too. Did you get stuck here while your parents are in other seats?

No, I’m traveling alone. I’m going to a special school in Omaha.

You going to that academy for geniuses?

Yes, the Academy of the Mind. What do you know about it?

Just that they teach a bunch of genius kids. Three minutes talking with you and I understand why you’re going there.

Thank you. He doesn’t seem interested in more talking, so she looks at the charming woman to her right. She figures there’s nothing to lose and says, Hello, my name is Kassie.

Do you think I care? Ms. Charming replies.

It’s now obvious that you don’t. Kassie retrieves her iPod and Kindle. She changes both to Central Time. She switches to a light instrumental playlist and resumes reading the Ben Bova novel.

* * * * *

Kassie again waits until all the passengers leave. Flight Attendant Maureen escorts her off the plane. Only a few people stand in the waiting area. A sixtyish man holds a sign that reads Kassie. Dr. Pomerance assesses Kassie as she walks towards him. She has short, brown hair parted in the middle—a simple hairstyle that does nothing for her plain face with brown eyes. Her snug shirt shows a trim body. He’s not certain, but he thinks she’s shorter than the average seven-year-old. She wears inexpensive jeans and sneakers. She almost matches what he imagined. Kassie stops while Maureen asks him to show his ID. He does and Maureen turns and says to Kassie, I hope you had a good trip.

Thank you. It was mostly good. Bye.

Dr. Pomerance shakes Kassie’s hand. I’m pleased to meet you, Kassie.

I’m pleased to meet you, Dr. Pomerance, and I’m surprised that you’re the one picking me up.

I don’t live far away, and I like to spend time with new students, especially ones as young as you. They walk to baggage claims.

Am I the only seven-year-old, she asks. I hope not; I hope not.

Our youngest student is nine. You’re the first seven-year-old we’ve had in eight years. It’s been more than a dozen years since we’ve had a six-year-old.

Kassie says nothing.

It won’t be as bad as you’re thinking. Ages don’t matter as much here, and many good friends have age differences of more than two years.

I hope that’s true for me.

Perhaps you’ll become friends with your roommate.

I hope so. I have a nine-year-old brother, and we get along very well.

Burt is well-liked and has a number of friends.

Then, he probably doesn’t need to add me to his friends list.

Do you want to know more about the Academy?

An adult friend recommended daily exercise. Do you have a gym class and exercise equipment?

We don’t have gym classes. We have a half-size gymnasium and an exercise room. But, you’re too small for everything except the treadmill and light weights.

Do you have mats for stretching and tumbling?

We have mats.

What kind of internet access do we have?

We have high speed cable. Each student has a computer. We don’t filter or monitor your internet access.

A place where adults trust kids. I’m liking it more.

Because Kassie deplaned last, her two suitcases are the only ones on the conveyer belt. Dr. Pomerance lifts them easily. He’s stronger than he looks. They walk to the exit. One suitcase has wheels, so Kassie offers to tow it. In that case I won’t rent a cart. My car isn’t too far away. Kassie changes her mind about towing it; the suitcase isn’t balanced, and there are too many uneven surfaces. She gets behind and pushes it. Holding it on both sides makes it more stable, though she has to bend or squat while walking.

They reach Dr. Pomerance’s car without mishaps. He drives a nearly new metallic blue Volvo S80. Dr. Pomerance puts her suitcases in the trunk. Kassie gets in the front passenger seat. The seats are beige leather. I like the looks of your car. Is it peppy?

Peppy?

Can it accelerate quickly when necessary?

Yes, it is quite peppy, but I hope we won’t have to test it.

The drive to the Academy takes less than twenty minutes. Dr. Pomerance slows to show her the view before turning into the driveway. The Academy is north of the city in a semi-rural setting. He stops in the middle of the driveway. The building is only two stories. Two wings project back from the left and right sides of the main building. The first floors of the left and right wings are dormitories. The first floor of the main building contains the cafeteria, the gym, and an auditorium. The faculty offices, administration, classrooms, library, labs, and a computer center are on the second floor. I will bring you to your dorm room. After you’re settled in, your dorm assistant will show you around. He drives to the front entrance.

Dr. Pomerance, I like your car even more now that I’ve ridden in it. It was so quiet and smooth that I couldn’t tell we were going fast.

Do you like cars?

I normally don’t think about them. Maybe I’m focusing on your car to take my mind off what’s to come.

I believe that what’s to come will be far more good than bad.

I hope so, but I’m not sure.

* * * * *

Chapter 1 — At the Academy, Week 1

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Dr. Pomerance lifts her suitcases out of the