And Brenda Married Me

Chapter 8
Chapter 8

I spent the entire ride home fuming. The other kids tried to tell me how much they appreciated what I had done, but the whole day had been so frustrating.

I marched into the house, threw my back pack on the couch, and grumbled at Uncle Roger.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No," I said, wanting to bite his head off. "Did you know that the public schools are no longer teaching kids to read? This whole day has been nothing but one mess after another. We had a math teacher that couldn’t do math.... I want a beer. Man, do I want a beer.

"How about a double cheeseburger and chocolate shake at the Burger Palace, instead."

"Okay, you’re right, and I can drown my sorrows in junk food and chocolate with the best of them."

After I watched TV for a while, Uncle Roger drove me over to the fast food place. I should not have been surprised to see quite a few kids I knew inside. Tim McAdams waved me over, while Uncle Roger went to get our dinners.

"Hi," I said more to his Mom and little brother.

"I was telling Mom how you like stood up for the whole class today. He was great. We’re going to pick out a Reading Tree."

She frowned at that. "A what?"

"Oh," I said. "Tim, have you told your Mom why we’re picking out a Reading Tree?"

He shook his head.

"It’s okay, really. Go ahead, tell her. No one’s gonna get mad, or laugh at you, you know. This is so not your fault."

Tim pressed his lips together for a moment. "Simon’s the only kid in our whole class that can read."

"What do you mean? You don’t know how to read?" she asked.

"No."

"Bobby?"

"I can’t. They said that we’d learn in the fifth grade. We’re not?"

"No," I said. "I offered to help teach them, but our English teacher was all over me. I said we needed a Reading Tree, like the old Liberty Trees? You know, where we could go to learn to read in secret."

"Food," Uncle Roger said. "Hi, I’m his uncle, Roger

Farrell. I checked with the principal, Gene Donaldson, and he verified everything that Simon is telling you."

"Oh, Tim, you should have told me? I thought you were slacking on your homework last year. I didn’t know you couldn’t do it. You passed the tests, though.

"Yeah, and sometimes I didn’t know how, but I did. They helped a lot."

"And your English teacher, is he going to teach you, then?"

"No, he’s going to teach us -- what was that?" Tim asked me.

"Compositional skills. He’s trying to teach kids that can’t write how to write a proper thank you letter."

"Now that makes sense."

"I felt like I was beating my head on a brick wall all day."

Roger put a hand on my shoulder. "Son, you’re fighting the good fight, never give up, and always remember that no good deed goes unpunished."

"He’s right, unfortunately," Mrs. McAdams added. "Oh, Dr. Farrell, I’m Laura McAdams. I believe you know my husband, William?"

"Yes, I do. He never mentioned family, but like me, research is everything."

She laughed. "Okay, Tim, Simon, you can tell your friends that there is a Reading Tree growing in our basement. We have more than enough room for a class full of kids, if they want to come over."

"I will be there to help," Uncle Roger said. "I had heard how bad public schools were getting, but I tended to chalk that up to Media hype, so I sent in a ringer."

"Oh, so that’s why you wouldn’t home school me."

"Yes, exactly."

The next day, at least a hundred kids surrounded me on the way in. All of them wanted to know about the Reading Tree. I tried to tell them, but Mr. Donaldson pounced on me, and almost pulled me into the office.

"Sorry about that, but I had to talk to you, young man."

"Okay."

"Sit down, please. Yesterday, our Mr. Gordon went to the school board, and they made sure that I understood that the city, and the state, will not allow anyone without being certified in reading, to attempt to help any student learn to read. So, this morning I checked and there are three, count them, three certified reading teachers in the whole state, and they are all employed by private schools.

"So," he said, quietly. "No one in public schools are being taught to read."

"I -- uh -- found a Reading Tree," I said, clearing my throat. "I didn’t spill the beans, but the kids in my class did, and this school, and the school board, had better be prepared to answer to a lot of angry parents."

"Yes, and there’s one more thing. The School Board wants you to take the tests for your grade level, in the next couple of days if you want to get ready. In fact, they would like you to take the tests for up through the eighth grade."

"I wanted to make waves, but not like that," I told him.

"Kicked out after one day."

"That about sums it up. I would not promote you to high school, at your age and size, so that means you go back to home schooling."

"Uncle Roger would throw a fit, but that would mean I could start my first concert tour, early. If I take the test, can you get them graded here, or do you send the sheets out?"

"No, our computers are tied into the district’s network which is tied into the state’s."

"I want to try something weird, since they are going to get rid of me anyway."

He frowned. "Mrs Sanders can administer the test."

"I want to do it, now. If I’m right, I might get to stay here a while longer, then again, it will be a tsunami."

"Mrs. Sanders? Simon Farrell is ready to take the tests."

The lady walked into the office. "Mr. Donaldson?"

"Simon wants to take the tests, now, please give him whatever help he needs."

Her expression changed, and she gave me a wide smile, and nodded her head.

I followed her to a different part of the office. "What did you have in mind?"

"I have an idea, and I wanted to test it out. I need four copies of the test form., and pencils, lots of pencils."

"Okay, but you only have to take it once."

"I know, but please?"

She frowned this time, and gave me the papers, the pencils and a test book for the fifth grade. "You have one hour to take the test, starting now."

I took one form, and filled in the answers, without opening the book. "Here, you saw that, didn’t you? I didn’t read any of the questions. What’s my score?"

She gave me the oddest look. "Look, failing the test to stay in school isn’t the answer, Simon."

"That’s not what I’m trying to do. I’m going to take the test again."

She ran the paper through the scanner, and sent the results through. A moment later, she sent them back.

"Both times you received an 88."

"Do you want me to figure out the odds of doing that?" I asked her. "I bet they’re really high. Maybe I should play the lottery. Here, let’s try this." I filled out the next sheet marking only one column of answers.

She looked at the paper, and shook her head. "I shouldn’t do this but...." She checked the results. "You received a 92."

"Man, that leaves a huge margin of error, doesn’t it? I mean at least three fourths of my answers were different than on the first test."

"There must be some sort of glitch,"

"Twice in a row, on that paper? One more time." I opened the book, and marked down the answers. "Here, this time I took the test, and those are the right answers."

She nodded. A moment later, she turned back to me. "98."

I took the test again, with the book, but deliberately marked down the worst of the options. "Those are the wrong answers."

"I don’t like the way this is going." A moment later. "96.:

"I’ve just invalidated the test results for every kid in this school, haven’t I?"

She closed her eyes, and shook her head. "The testing network is tied into the district, which is tied into the state. You’ve invalidated the test results of every kid in Virginia, if not the rest of the country."

"Whoa, and it’s only my second day in fifth grade. I know how to fix that, too. I mean, if they gave me five minutes with that program and with two or three lines of code...."

"The programmers would take a year, at least, at a cost of millions of dollars."

I nodded my head. "Okay, I could do it for half."

"I bet you could." She left the room, and came back a moment later with the principal.

"Well, how did it go?" he asked.

"Simon has proven, completely, that those tests are rigged. You can’t fail them, no matter what you do."

"Excuse me?"

"Simon took the test four times. Here, the first one was done without looking at book. So was the second."

He frowned. "Wait, this one with all ’b’s’ was graded at 92?"

"Yes, and the next one he did with the book, trying to pass. The last one he tried again, but chose the worst answer,"

He looked down at me. "You could have warned me what you were going to do.":

"I said it would be a ’tsunami’, didn’t I?"

He sat down, and closed his eyes. "It will be, and when this gets out....Mrs. Sanders, how long have you been giving those tests?"

"Six years now. The first couple of years there were people that failed, but lately no one has The school board has been stressing how important it is to teach to the tests."

"I thought this school was doing so well, above average, and...."

"It’s a problem that would be easy to fix, if they would let me do it."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Look the program is written to actually count maybe three or four questions in the test. One or two are always wrong, and the rest are correct. "Changing a couple of lines of code, and adding a couple of lines more would fix it. But, the company that runs it would never let an outside whiz kid do the work, so it would take their programmers a year, and several million dollars to fix."

"I want a blank test sheet," he said. Mrs, Sanders agreed, and a moment later, Mr. Donaldson marked down half of the answers and left the other half blank. He received an 88.

"How did you know?"

"Think about it, sir. How long have you known that the kids in this school couldn’t read?"

"It’s not something I thought about. I learned in the first grade, and in my last job it never came up."

"How did my class pass the fourth grade test not knowing how to read the questions or the answers?"

"Always the simplest answer. Simon, go to class. We have a new math teacher, and if she can’t do math, I don’t want to hear about it. I have a friend on the school board. I need to get him in on this."

"Okay." With a shrug, I headed to class.

"Simon," half the class called out.

"We thought they had kicked you out," Tim said.

"They’re trying to, but I’m here now."

The teacher, an elderly lady stared at me. "I’m not missing anyone on the roll."

"Simon Farrell. I was here yesterday."

"This is the list I received from the school board this morning."

"Then I guess I’m a non-person now, so I’m not here."

She smiled. "Just make sure that you stay not here."

At least, she knew math. After class I caught up with Tim. "Hey, I need to talk to your Mom after school."

He nodded, "She needs to talk to you, too. You should have seen it. I think all of her friends that have kids were over last night."

"Simon Farrell, what are you still doing here?" Mr. Graves demanded from behind me.

"I’m going to science class."

"You were supposed to be expelled."

I shook my head. "It’s not easy to get rid of me." I took in a deep breath and sang out. "Here, I come to save the day. Yes, it’s Mighty Simon on the way...."

"I’m not losing my job over you," he said.

"Oh, I’m really sorry, Mr. G. I didn’t know that I was now your worst nightmare."

Other kids started to laugh.

He picked me up and shook me. "You little brat."

"Put me down, you big ox. I’m ten and a half, what’s your excuse?" He shook me again. "I didn’t want your job, but since you’re giving it to me, I will take it."

He screamed, in frustration. He threw me against Tim knocking both of us into some lockers.

I must have been knocked cold because the next thing I new someone in a blue uniform flashed a light in my eyes.

"Houston, we have lift-off! Welcome back, squirt. We were worried about you."

I tried to shake my head. "Hurts."

He nodded. "Your head was pretty well banged up. Your buddy’s fine. He blocked most of your crash, and you are both going to the hospital."

"I can’t tell you how sorry I am," Mr. Donaldson said, looking down at me as they loaded me onto a stretcher.

"I am going to have to restructure the teaching staff here."

"Just try to get teachers, not bureaucrats."

After three million x-rays and cat scans, the doctors found nothing broken on either of us, but we were going to stay the night due to concussion. I had been hit hard enough to blank out, and they were worried.

Roger and Mrs. McAdams were admitted into our room

They carried bags full of cards and toys for both of us.

Mr. Donaldson came in next holding out two huge teddy bears.

"Thanks," I said breaking into a huge grin. Delighted, I took the bear he gave me. I saw Tim take his, and hug it.

"I wanted to do this for you, Simon, because from now on I have to be the enemy."

I looked at him.

"Mr. Farrell, Mrs. McAdams. under no circumstances do I want what I am about to tell you to go public. At least, this is just what I want since I have to turn into a regular bureaucrat tomorrow or lose my job. But, for right now...." he paused for a moment.

"Dr. Farrell, I’ve never met anyone like Simon before. He’s completely solutions oriented. I mean, he’s the kid that pointed out the emperor wasn’t wearing any clothes. I heard him, over and over yesterday trying to cut through the -- BS.

"When he pointed out to Mr. Graves that the kids in his class couldn’t read, all the teacher would do is blame everyone else. Simon asked him over and over not to worry about who was to blame, but what could be done to correct the problem now. Mr. Graves wouldn’t consider that. He went to the School Board.

"The School Board asked me to make Simon take the standardized test for each grade level through the eighth. Simon did it his way."

Roger put a hand on my shoulder. "Don’t."

"He was the one that thought that if all those kids couldn’t read, how did they pass their grade level tests to get into the fifth grade. Turns out, the tests are rigged. You can’t fail them. He took the test four times. Twice without even looking at the book. His scores were very high, on all the tests even though each time he took the test the answers were different."

"What are you saying?" Mrs. McAdams asked, with her hands trembling.

"That the test scores for every child in public school in the state of Virginia has had invalid test results for the last six years. The only thing the tests results show is that kids can make marks on the answer sheet."

"The conservatives have been saying this for years," Roger said. "But there’s never been anyone on the inside who could prove it, like Simon."

"He’s not on the inside anymore. The School Board is demanding that he should be expelled for being a trouble maker. They will give him a diploma certifying that he has graduated from the eighth grade, but they do not want him in school again.

"They have decided that this whole incident with Mr. Graves was Simon’s fault. He provoked the teacher to the point of madness."

"Can I be expelled?" Tim asked. "He threw Simon right at me, so I must have provoked him, too. It was that song, that did it. I can sing that, too."

"What song?"

I told him, and sang the Mighty Simon version.

"That would provoke anyone to the point of madness," Roger said. "Good job. You are now a major trouble maker, and I’m really proud of you."

"Now, Tim, you have to remember that you are the victim here, the innocent bystander that was horribly injured by Simon’s rudeness."

"Hey, Uncle Roger, can we get Tim and his family tickets to my first concert?"

Tim lit up the room with his smile. "Please?"

"Yes, we can."

"Good, now I can forgive Simon for being so rude that it almost got me killed."

"Now, since you aren’t in school anymore, and that I am your new, unofficial Mom, I wanted to tell you that the Reading Tree is going to be huge. I think every kid in town has been asking about it."

"Officially I am not hearing this," Mr. Donaldson said.

 

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