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Hidden Gem
By Dialecticdreamer/Sarah Williams
Part 2 of 2, complete
Word count (story only): 1870
[Thursday, May 7, 2020, late morning]
:: Nik convinces the trio to visit the Priory International School. Part of the Edison’s Mirror arc. ::
Back to Hidden Gem (part one)
To the Edison's Mirror Index
On to
The group ambled through the campus, down hallways wide enough for groups of students to walk four abreast without crowding, every open section of wall covered in sheets of cork to help mitigate the noise of feet on hardwood floors. On the walls, artwork warmed the neutral wood tones. The pieces began low, showing stick figures and smiley-faced suns hanging in a row that lined up the top edges of the quality watercolor paper with the bottom edge of each door handle.
Mixed in the rows above, the pieces ranged in size and materials, and the topics flowed from botany drawings to comic book pages drawn and many inked, from technical draft images by near-professional hands to watercolor interpretations of dishes being presented to an appreciative audience.
Aidan touched a finger to one corner of the beige newsprint of one of the younger artist’s drawing. “That’s a remarkable array of papers, not just the art itself. Why is everything mixed together?”
Mrs. Hume smiled warmly at him. Proudly. “Because the campus is for all students. There’s a gap between the artwork in the youngest students’ building, so that they can’t impulsively reach for the pieces made by older students. Each work is displayed for a month, and we try to have several pieces from each student up at any one time.”
Vic patted Aidan’s shoulder. “What about other media? Aidan loves woodwork. Me, I was pretty good with clay modeling, but I haven’t done it for a while.”
“There are three-dimensional pieces in each classroom, more in the public spaces, but they’re all in cases. So, pieces go into cases based on their size, not the age or experience of the artist,” Ailsa Hume enthused.
Liana’s fingers twitched. “That sounds… really nice,” she murmured.
“Come on, I’ll show you my current favorite. It’s not next on the tour, but I can’t pass up an opportunity to see it.” Ailsa beckoned them toward a side corridor that led to one of the exits, easily moving at Nik’s pace. They made their way across campus to a nearly identical brick building with a large fenced playground full of equipment for preschoolers. She checked her watch before reaching for the door. “It’s naptime in the infant room, and story time in the others, so we’ll be quiet.” She led the way to a classroom with a dozen two-year-olds lying on their stomachs on colorful vinyl mats, their heads propped in their tiny hands as they listened to one of the teachers reading a picture book. Next to her, a young man signed the story. Elsewhere in the room, two more teachers began filling small cups with warm spiced apple juice.
Ailsa pointed to the butterfly house in a corner of the classroom. Puffs of tissue paper and pipe cleaners hung from the bare branch of a dogwood tree. Construction paper butterfly shapes, decorated with glops of glitter glue or raggedly torn bits of colored paper, took up more space. A bit of educated guessing identified cocoons and caterpillars, as interpreted by two-year-olds.
Beaming, she pressed a finger to her lips, then led them back to the hallway. “The class watches the real caterpillars in the spring, and one of the teachers thought of this project to help the kids to understand the life cycle, the week before the live caterpillars arrived.” The headmistress beamed proudly. “That class is graduating from high school this year, and everyone loves the tradition. This year, they’re a little late because the shipment was delayed.”
They continued the tour, asking questions that the headmistress answered easily and confidently. The first time she paused to look at her watch, Aidan was staring, transfixed, at two preteen girls putting together a tiny computer module and the black plastic casing. The taller girl checked their blueprint, then handed a toggle switch to the girl at her left. They whispered to each other, too quietly for anyone in the tour to overhear.
After a long moment, Aidan took a steadying breath and forced himself to shift back to stand beside Nik. “I’d join their class if I understood anything about what they’re learning,” the auburn-haired man admitted.
Vic brightened. “I can teach you a few things, and there’s always the library. Getting supplies might mean ordering remotely, though.”
“Oh, parental interest like that is always encouraged. There’s a robotics club, and they want to hold a tournament so their bots can fight each other.”
Aidan’s eyebrows climbed. “Gladiatorial combat via… machines?”
Nik snorted. “You were a teenage boy, and before that, a preteen one. They’d host a gladiatorial game over which brand of hot dogs are best.” He raised a hand, patting the air toward Liana. “Are girls bloodthirsty in other ways? It’s been awhile since I was a preteen boy, after all.”
“Not as long as it’s been for me,” Aidan murmured, his lips twitching upward.
Liana relaxed a little more. “They tend to get aggressive with words first. Usually.” She glanced wistfully toward the classroom door and the students beyond. “I’d like to try it, too.”
“We can join together,” Vic declared. “If you want. That way, you and I have something in common and there’s a familiar face when we first start classes.”
For the first time in the tour, Ed spoke up. “What if I want something really, really different? A cooking class or something?”
Vic nodded gravely. “Sure. That’s something that you and I can share.”
Liana rubbed her fingertips on the welt seam on the outside of the leg of her jeans. “You’re probably ahead of me in everything,” she whispered.
“So?” Ed asked. “If it’s fun, and you enjoy it, I’ll enjoy spending time with you. And sometimes, it’s nice to have something familiar… especially now.”
“That sounds like a decision,” Ailsa observed. “Let’s go to my office and get the enrollment paperwork set up, and the scholarships assigned.” She motioned toward the main building. “There’s a student store, but that’s for funny erasers and scratch-and-sniff stickers. Next to it is the School Closet. We can pick up your uniforms after everything is signed.”
Nik’s brow furrowed. “How expensive are they? I don’t think anyone came prepared for a--”
Ailsa tilted her head slightly. “What? Why would there be a cost? Three uniforms, a pair of gym shoes and a pair of dressier shoes are part of the tuition costs. Which means that they’re included in the scholarship.”
“Laundry,” Liana blurted, then blushed darker than the bricks outside.
“That’s part of the life skills department. It’s in the high school building.’ Ailsa patted the teen’s shoulder. “Just bring in the clothes in the school’s duffel when two need to be washed and the resource teacher will teach you how to operate the machines.”
Nik nodded. “That makes sense.”
“Not to me,” Aidan murmured. “Vic, could you explain it later? It might be… a language gap.”
“Sure,” the teen agreed.
Ed slipped his hand into Aidan’s, quietly watchful as they returned to the Headmistress’ office. It seemed to be two walls full of bookshelves, a wall of windows, and a wall of the same cork surface as in the hallways, covered by children’s drawings, cards, and even half a dozen playing cards, backs up, to show the silhouettes of boys and girls of various ages.
Nik cleared his throat as the door closed behind them. “They’re working on legal documentation. Can we set up provisional enrollment?” he asked carefully.
Ailsa’s expression smoothed to professional interest. “Did you fear for your lives at any point before arriving on the island?”
Liana squeaked. Pinching her lips between her teeth to hold in the rest of the air in her lungs, she nodded.
Ed nodded next, more slowly.
VIc raised a brow. “Absolutely.”
Aidan shrugged. “I’m not sure what your… What are the standards?”
Ailsa’s expression softened. “Did you, at any point before stepping foot on the island, worry that you might die? Lack of food, lack of warmth, lack of water, not having a shelter.” She scanned his face for a moment. “Not all danger is obvious, but the fear that you might die is our standard.”
Slowly, brow furrowed, Aidan nodded. “But I am an adult.”
“You’re the custodian of record of the two boys. I’ll use the same security on your paperwork. My eyes only.” The headmistress smiled.
Liana turned longing eyes toward the old-fashioned black touch-tone phone on the Headmistress’ desk, which was tucked in a sunny corner instead of dominating the space. “I should call Beverly.”
The headmistress waved the worry away. “I can list her as your guardian of record, but the documentation is safe from scrutiny. Even a subpoena. I’ll fill out your paperwork today, and Beverly can call me to confirm when you’ve had time to discuss it.”
Nik raised a brow. “How do the kids usually get here?”
“Dropoffs, mostly,” Ailsa responded. “Why?”
“We don’t have a car,” Vic explained. “But it’s less than two miles. That’s an easy walk.”
“Only after Henry clears Ed,” Nik argued. “I’ll drop you both off and pick you up. If Aidan will help me run errands, it works out for everyone.”
The headmistress smiled. “That sounds like the last obstacle. Shall we start filling out papers?”
Ed shrank smaller. “I’ll need an assessment before picking out classes. What I want might not be a good fit, yet. I don’t want to stand out to the other students.”
Ailsa leaned forward, studying his face at the same level. “You won’t. You’ll each be assigned to a coordinating teacher. Then you’ll work on projects, most of which run only six weeks or less, and from those modules, we’ll assemble a portfolio with grades that are translated to the standard format that the local schools and colleges expect. We’re an accredited International Baccalaureate program. The goal is to help students succeed, not just follow a standard template. We’ll tailor things to your needs, because I can see that once we do, you’ll be willing to create your own successes.”
“Big words,” Liana murmured.
The headmistress nodded. “They are. Let me prove them to you.”
The teen stepped forward. “Okay. I’ll start the paperwork. How long will it take?”
“I’ll call Mun in the kitchen, and they’ll bring up snacks. Any allergies?” Ailsa asked, already reaching for the desk phone.
“Rice,” Ed and Vic declared simultaneously.
“How do you feel about royal crowns?” Amusement danced across the older woman’s face. “Today’s snack is a stalk of broccoli carved into a crown, with a thin slice of carrot underneath, filled with peanut butter. The apple wedges are served with a sweeter dip with maple and cinnamon.”
Nik laughed brightly. “I love it. They’re more creative than ants on a log, that’s for sure.”
Aidan’s bewildered expression made the younger man laugh again. “I’ll show you later. It’s just a weird name for a kids’ snack.”
Ailsa motioned toward the long chaise set at an angle next to the desk. “Have a seat, Liana. We’ll have you set up before the snacks arrive, and maybe both of the young men’s papers, too.”
Vic nodded firmly. “Good deal… and thank you. So much.” Ed nodded along.
30
By Dialecticdreamer/Sarah Williams
Part 2 of 2, complete
Word count (story only): 1870
[Thursday, May 7, 2020, late morning]
:: Nik convinces the trio to visit the Priory International School. Part of the Edison’s Mirror arc. ::
Back to Hidden Gem (part one)
To the Edison's Mirror Index
On to
The group ambled through the campus, down hallways wide enough for groups of students to walk four abreast without crowding, every open section of wall covered in sheets of cork to help mitigate the noise of feet on hardwood floors. On the walls, artwork warmed the neutral wood tones. The pieces began low, showing stick figures and smiley-faced suns hanging in a row that lined up the top edges of the quality watercolor paper with the bottom edge of each door handle.
Mixed in the rows above, the pieces ranged in size and materials, and the topics flowed from botany drawings to comic book pages drawn and many inked, from technical draft images by near-professional hands to watercolor interpretations of dishes being presented to an appreciative audience.
Aidan touched a finger to one corner of the beige newsprint of one of the younger artist’s drawing. “That’s a remarkable array of papers, not just the art itself. Why is everything mixed together?”
Mrs. Hume smiled warmly at him. Proudly. “Because the campus is for all students. There’s a gap between the artwork in the youngest students’ building, so that they can’t impulsively reach for the pieces made by older students. Each work is displayed for a month, and we try to have several pieces from each student up at any one time.”
Vic patted Aidan’s shoulder. “What about other media? Aidan loves woodwork. Me, I was pretty good with clay modeling, but I haven’t done it for a while.”
“There are three-dimensional pieces in each classroom, more in the public spaces, but they’re all in cases. So, pieces go into cases based on their size, not the age or experience of the artist,” Ailsa Hume enthused.
Liana’s fingers twitched. “That sounds… really nice,” she murmured.
“Come on, I’ll show you my current favorite. It’s not next on the tour, but I can’t pass up an opportunity to see it.” Ailsa beckoned them toward a side corridor that led to one of the exits, easily moving at Nik’s pace. They made their way across campus to a nearly identical brick building with a large fenced playground full of equipment for preschoolers. She checked her watch before reaching for the door. “It’s naptime in the infant room, and story time in the others, so we’ll be quiet.” She led the way to a classroom with a dozen two-year-olds lying on their stomachs on colorful vinyl mats, their heads propped in their tiny hands as they listened to one of the teachers reading a picture book. Next to her, a young man signed the story. Elsewhere in the room, two more teachers began filling small cups with warm spiced apple juice.
Ailsa pointed to the butterfly house in a corner of the classroom. Puffs of tissue paper and pipe cleaners hung from the bare branch of a dogwood tree. Construction paper butterfly shapes, decorated with glops of glitter glue or raggedly torn bits of colored paper, took up more space. A bit of educated guessing identified cocoons and caterpillars, as interpreted by two-year-olds.
Beaming, she pressed a finger to her lips, then led them back to the hallway. “The class watches the real caterpillars in the spring, and one of the teachers thought of this project to help the kids to understand the life cycle, the week before the live caterpillars arrived.” The headmistress beamed proudly. “That class is graduating from high school this year, and everyone loves the tradition. This year, they’re a little late because the shipment was delayed.”
They continued the tour, asking questions that the headmistress answered easily and confidently. The first time she paused to look at her watch, Aidan was staring, transfixed, at two preteen girls putting together a tiny computer module and the black plastic casing. The taller girl checked their blueprint, then handed a toggle switch to the girl at her left. They whispered to each other, too quietly for anyone in the tour to overhear.
After a long moment, Aidan took a steadying breath and forced himself to shift back to stand beside Nik. “I’d join their class if I understood anything about what they’re learning,” the auburn-haired man admitted.
Vic brightened. “I can teach you a few things, and there’s always the library. Getting supplies might mean ordering remotely, though.”
“Oh, parental interest like that is always encouraged. There’s a robotics club, and they want to hold a tournament so their bots can fight each other.”
Aidan’s eyebrows climbed. “Gladiatorial combat via… machines?”
Nik snorted. “You were a teenage boy, and before that, a preteen one. They’d host a gladiatorial game over which brand of hot dogs are best.” He raised a hand, patting the air toward Liana. “Are girls bloodthirsty in other ways? It’s been awhile since I was a preteen boy, after all.”
“Not as long as it’s been for me,” Aidan murmured, his lips twitching upward.
Liana relaxed a little more. “They tend to get aggressive with words first. Usually.” She glanced wistfully toward the classroom door and the students beyond. “I’d like to try it, too.”
“We can join together,” Vic declared. “If you want. That way, you and I have something in common and there’s a familiar face when we first start classes.”
For the first time in the tour, Ed spoke up. “What if I want something really, really different? A cooking class or something?”
Vic nodded gravely. “Sure. That’s something that you and I can share.”
Liana rubbed her fingertips on the welt seam on the outside of the leg of her jeans. “You’re probably ahead of me in everything,” she whispered.
“So?” Ed asked. “If it’s fun, and you enjoy it, I’ll enjoy spending time with you. And sometimes, it’s nice to have something familiar… especially now.”
“That sounds like a decision,” Ailsa observed. “Let’s go to my office and get the enrollment paperwork set up, and the scholarships assigned.” She motioned toward the main building. “There’s a student store, but that’s for funny erasers and scratch-and-sniff stickers. Next to it is the School Closet. We can pick up your uniforms after everything is signed.”
Nik’s brow furrowed. “How expensive are they? I don’t think anyone came prepared for a--”
Ailsa tilted her head slightly. “What? Why would there be a cost? Three uniforms, a pair of gym shoes and a pair of dressier shoes are part of the tuition costs. Which means that they’re included in the scholarship.”
“Laundry,” Liana blurted, then blushed darker than the bricks outside.
“That’s part of the life skills department. It’s in the high school building.’ Ailsa patted the teen’s shoulder. “Just bring in the clothes in the school’s duffel when two need to be washed and the resource teacher will teach you how to operate the machines.”
Nik nodded. “That makes sense.”
“Not to me,” Aidan murmured. “Vic, could you explain it later? It might be… a language gap.”
“Sure,” the teen agreed.
Ed slipped his hand into Aidan’s, quietly watchful as they returned to the Headmistress’ office. It seemed to be two walls full of bookshelves, a wall of windows, and a wall of the same cork surface as in the hallways, covered by children’s drawings, cards, and even half a dozen playing cards, backs up, to show the silhouettes of boys and girls of various ages.
Nik cleared his throat as the door closed behind them. “They’re working on legal documentation. Can we set up provisional enrollment?” he asked carefully.
Ailsa’s expression smoothed to professional interest. “Did you fear for your lives at any point before arriving on the island?”
Liana squeaked. Pinching her lips between her teeth to hold in the rest of the air in her lungs, she nodded.
Ed nodded next, more slowly.
VIc raised a brow. “Absolutely.”
Aidan shrugged. “I’m not sure what your… What are the standards?”
Ailsa’s expression softened. “Did you, at any point before stepping foot on the island, worry that you might die? Lack of food, lack of warmth, lack of water, not having a shelter.” She scanned his face for a moment. “Not all danger is obvious, but the fear that you might die is our standard.”
Slowly, brow furrowed, Aidan nodded. “But I am an adult.”
“You’re the custodian of record of the two boys. I’ll use the same security on your paperwork. My eyes only.” The headmistress smiled.
Liana turned longing eyes toward the old-fashioned black touch-tone phone on the Headmistress’ desk, which was tucked in a sunny corner instead of dominating the space. “I should call Beverly.”
The headmistress waved the worry away. “I can list her as your guardian of record, but the documentation is safe from scrutiny. Even a subpoena. I’ll fill out your paperwork today, and Beverly can call me to confirm when you’ve had time to discuss it.”
Nik raised a brow. “How do the kids usually get here?”
“Dropoffs, mostly,” Ailsa responded. “Why?”
“We don’t have a car,” Vic explained. “But it’s less than two miles. That’s an easy walk.”
“Only after Henry clears Ed,” Nik argued. “I’ll drop you both off and pick you up. If Aidan will help me run errands, it works out for everyone.”
The headmistress smiled. “That sounds like the last obstacle. Shall we start filling out papers?”
Ed shrank smaller. “I’ll need an assessment before picking out classes. What I want might not be a good fit, yet. I don’t want to stand out to the other students.”
Ailsa leaned forward, studying his face at the same level. “You won’t. You’ll each be assigned to a coordinating teacher. Then you’ll work on projects, most of which run only six weeks or less, and from those modules, we’ll assemble a portfolio with grades that are translated to the standard format that the local schools and colleges expect. We’re an accredited International Baccalaureate program. The goal is to help students succeed, not just follow a standard template. We’ll tailor things to your needs, because I can see that once we do, you’ll be willing to create your own successes.”
“Big words,” Liana murmured.
The headmistress nodded. “They are. Let me prove them to you.”
The teen stepped forward. “Okay. I’ll start the paperwork. How long will it take?”
“I’ll call Mun in the kitchen, and they’ll bring up snacks. Any allergies?” Ailsa asked, already reaching for the desk phone.
“Rice,” Ed and Vic declared simultaneously.
“How do you feel about royal crowns?” Amusement danced across the older woman’s face. “Today’s snack is a stalk of broccoli carved into a crown, with a thin slice of carrot underneath, filled with peanut butter. The apple wedges are served with a sweeter dip with maple and cinnamon.”
Nik laughed brightly. “I love it. They’re more creative than ants on a log, that’s for sure.”
Aidan’s bewildered expression made the younger man laugh again. “I’ll show you later. It’s just a weird name for a kids’ snack.”
Ailsa motioned toward the long chaise set at an angle next to the desk. “Have a seat, Liana. We’ll have you set up before the snacks arrive, and maybe both of the young men’s papers, too.”
Vic nodded firmly. “Good deal… and thank you. So much.” Ed nodded along.
30
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