Chapter 5 #2
“Thank you.” To Colin, “You know perfectly well we accept a number of students because of who their families are. ‘Gifted’ is a term that has to be flexible, as far as the school is concerned. It’s the only way we survive as an institution.”
Colin felt the last bit of tension ease away. “That makes sense.”
“Of course it does. The simple fact is, Braxos is a dinosaur. But he is a dinosaur with tenure. Do you understand what that means?”
“You can’t fire him.”
“I suppose we could. Given a valid enough reason.” She bent over the file and mused quietly, “If, say, he ran off for a dirty weekend with a certain student we certainly won’t name. And if we could catch them red-handed.”
“And I think we’ve taken that matter just about as far as we legally can in this student’s presence.” Arnold smiled at her as he spoke.
Colin sensed it was at least partly an act. A subterfuge meant to put him at ease. “I asked him if I could study something new. He said not yet. I don’t want to wait.”
Sandrine lifted her gaze. “So that’s what it was.”
Arnold asked, “What is it, exactly, that you want to do?”
Colin took a long breath. The prospect of his next step left Colin feeling physically ill. But there was no choice. None. Another breath, and then he lied to his friend for the first time ever. “I want to study Boolean logic.”
The two adults exchanged glances, and then Arnold said, “Unpack that a little bit.”
“Boolean logic is a form of algebra. It’s a formal notation for describing logical relations. It’s centered on three words known as operators: or, and, and not. All values are noted as either true or false. …”
He stopped because Arnold held up his hand. “I know what Boolean refers to.” Arnold’s voice had resumed its normal soft intensity. “I want to know why this is important to you.”
Another breath. Another lie. “I want to study artificial intelligence. This is a good place to start.”
“The mathematical foundations of AI,” Sandrine said. “At eleven, no less.”
“I just turned twelve.”
“I’m surprised poor Braxos didn’t run screaming from the room.”
Colin inspected himself. Wondering if some great rift might open up in his body, exposing the terrible deed.
Instead, he felt nothing. A faint whiff of some vague disorder, like smoke from a distant fire.
Otherwise, nothing except a resolve to see this through to the end. Because there was no other way out.
The academy’s director said to her colleague, “Which brings us to the point.”
“Sandrine and I have had a word with UNC Wilmington,” Arnold said. “They are willing to have you attend classes. Term starts the week after next.”
“You’ll need to meet with their head of department,” Sandrine said.
“And the dean of admissions,” Arnold added. “Both those meetings are set for Sunday afternoon.”
“They are putting you down provisionally as a visiting student,” Sandrine said. “But if you prove yourself, as I’m sure you will, they’ll matriculate you with next autumn’s incoming class.”
Arnold asked, “Do they even offer Boolean algebra to undergrads?”
“I’ll check.” She made a note. “If not, I’m sure they’ll make adjustments.”
Colin felt like the news held such force it literally pushed his lies from the room.
Like their words had taken on solid form and were cascading all around him, bombarding him with pulses of silver energy, cleaning away the dark elements he had introduced.
He wanted to shout, to leap from his chair and go racing around the room.
He could scarcely draw a breath, he was so excited.
“You will officially remain a student here at Outer Banks Academy. And continue to live at Sojourn House.” Arnold smiled at his expression. “But Sandrine will have a word with Mrs. Fitzgerald on your behalf.”
“Not on your life,” Sandrine said. “As academy director, I hereby assign you that particular job.”
“I am happy to decline,” Arnold replied.
“You can’t. I’m your boss. I’m giving you a direct order.” She turned to Colin and continued, “The house schedule obviously will require changes to fit your classes.”
“How do I get there?” He hated to mention it, especially now. But there was no choice. “I don’t have any money.”
“Ah. Of course. I almost forgot.” Sandrine seemed to be enjoying herself now. “I have had a word with the head of our secret benefactor’s trust. Actually, it was her attorney.”
“You met him, sort of,” Arnold said. “He was there at your preliminary examination.”
“The trust has taken a personal interest in you and your development. They will cover the cost of your university studies. You can arrange for a car service to take you to and from the UNC Wilmington campus three times each week. You’ll still attend other classes here, of course.”
“Look at that face, will you.”
“I think he’s happy.”
“Happy doesn’t come close,” Arnold said. “Our Colin has left happy and entered the stratosphere.”
Sandrine asked, “You mentioned something you needed to discuss?”
Colin wondered if this was what it felt like to become an adult. Having the confidence to speak openly in front of someone who, just ten minutes ago, had been a stranger. “I want to learn how to swim. Outer Banks Academy doesn’t have a pool. I need …”
“You need help.” Sandrine turned to Arnold. “Ideas?”
Colin said, “There’s a public pool two miles from here.”
“Not on your life. I know that pool. The complex is not in a safe area. Which means the pool represents a risk we don’t need to take.” Arnold thought a moment, then said, “What about Landfall?”
“Now there’s a thought.” To Colin, “Your adviser has become seriously addicted to golf.”
“Everybody needs an outlet. Right, Colin?”
“I personally can’t see the point,” Sandrine continued. “Whacking a little white ball over and over and over—”
“Walking the emerald course, doing my absolute best at an impossible game, talking with friends, putting the rest of the world on hold. What’s not to love?”
Colin liked how they were involved in each other now. Being open in front of him in a way that was intensely private. And yet they included him. “But I want to swim.”
“Landfall is a country club. It’s located just over a mile from here. They have a great pool.” Arnold took a page from Sandrine’s file and made a note. “I’ll have a word and see what we can arrange.”