WAS busy filing books on the shelves in the library when her cell phone rang. Luckily the head librarian was working the counter and nodded to her to go take a break and answer the call.
The number that showed up on her phone was her sons’ school. She hurriedly answered, fearing something bad had happened.
“Mrs. Trellis, this is John Dunleavy, principal at Phoenix Elementary,” the nasal, monotone, middle-aged man’s voice said. Eliza recognized the principal’s voice immediately, although she had only met the man twice at back-to-school nights.
“Hi, Mr. Dunleavy, is everything okay with my boys?” she asked, getting quickly to the point.
“Yes, everything is fine, I hope I’m not interrupting you at work?”
“Well, yes, but that’s okay, I can talk for a minute or two.”
“I just wanted to ask if I could set up an appointment for you to come into the office and speak with myself and the guidance counselor about your son Austin.”
Eliza’s heart beat hard in her chest. “Austin?” She was surprised to hear the principal call about her younger son, expecting that perhaps he was calling about misbehavior of some sort on Cameron’s part.
Cameron was ten years old, almost midway through fifth grade, and was starting to come home from school now and then with stories of some of his mischievous antics on the playground, in gym class, or at lunchtime.
Eliza thought her older son was still a good boy, but she could see he had a streak in him that sometimes crossed the fine line between ornery and bad. On the other hand, Austin was sweet, shy, studious, definitely not the kind who got into trouble. He was only in second grade. How could he be in trouble?
“Yes, Mrs. Trellis, Austin,” Mr. Dunleavy interrupted Eliza’s thoughts. “The guidance counselor would like you and Mr. Trellis to come in to discuss the possibility of placing Austin in a magnet or charter school for the gifted and talented.” Eliza could hear a faint trace of pride in the principal’s voice, as if his elementary school were promoting one of its own and were thus being recognized for the achievement. “I know the Christmas break is around the corner, but we were hoping to place Austin before the next school semester. If you can possibly come in next week sometime, that would be great.”
Eliza sighed with relief. “Well, Mr. Trellis works long hours, but I can ask him. If we can, we would be happy to come in and meet with you.” She felt proud herself. She had heard of students who were labeled “gifted and talented,” which she believed meant they were unusually smart.
“Great, please hold, and I’ll have my secretary make an appointment.”
ELIZA HAD to go alone to the school meeting in the principal’s office the Monday after Thanksgiving, promising her husband she would fill him in on all of the details. Alex couldn’t take off an hour, much less a half day, in his new job. It was too intense.
She wore her best skirt and sweater, which she had gone out and purchased on Black Friday off the clearance rack at the local department store.
Still, she felt out of place, like she was too young and dumb to be a mom, especially of a gifted and talented boy.
While she was sitting in the principal’s office waiting for Mr. Dunleavy to go get the guidance counselor, she was absentmindedly staring through the open office door when she saw Cameron and two other boys, perhaps classmates or friends, walking down the hallway, talking and laughing. Cameron looked up and caught his mother’s eye.
Eliza waved to her son, grinning. Not only did he not acknowledge her, Cameron glared at her for a moment with obvious shock and embarrassment, turned without pause in his step or his banter, and ignored her.
Before her hurt could sink in, Mr. Dunleavy was back in the office introducing her to the school’s head guidance counselor, Miss Posey, who walked in with Austin in tow. Austin skipped into the office, saw his mom, and gave her a big hug. Tears came to her eyes, but she didn’t want to make a scene. She blinked them back before they fell down her cheeks.
Mr. Dunleavy closed the door to the office and sat down behind his desk, the three of them sitting in chairs across from him, Austin between his mom and Miss Posey, who ended up doing most of the talking.
The petite, spritely young redhead explained how Austin had been observed by all of his teachers to be increasingly restless in his classes the past semester. They eventually recommended that Austin go for special testing by the school district’s psychologist. The results had come in.
Mr. Dunleavy opened up a manila folder, cleared his throat and shared the psychologist’s findings. Eliza shook her head, still a bit confused by the principal’s report.
“It’s our opinion that Austin is acting out of boredom and needs to be further challenged in school,” Miss Posey said confidently. “I am recommending he be transferred to the Paradise Valley School for the gifted as soon as possible, as long as you and your husband authorize the transfer, of course.”
“Of course.” Eliza sat uncomfortably in her chair, nervously clasping and unclasping her fingers. How had Austin gotten so smart?
“Mommy, I don’t want to go to a different school than Cameron.” Austin broke her reverie, looking up at her with his soft brown eyes.
Eliza could feel Miss Posey and Mr. Dunleavy staring at her, waiting for her to answer.
“Well, honey, Cameron will be going to middle school, which is a different school, next year anyway.” She could see the young counselor and principal nod in approval out of her peripheral vision, encouraging her to go on. “And this school will be much more fun for you, plus if you go now, you can make new friends right away instead of waiting over the summer.”
She watched her son grasp all that she told him, a frown on his face. Then he smiled slowly. “Will it have cool music and art classes?” he asked.
Eliza looked to Miss Posey. “The best!” the young counselor answered enthusiastically.
“Good, because I think music and art are kind of boring here.” Mr. Dunleavy looked disgruntled at the little boy’s comment, but Miss Posey interjected. “Well, that’s why we want you to go to this new school, Austin. What is good for some students your age is probably boring to you because you have special talents and skills many of them don’t have, and…” Miss Posey’s confidence waned a bit, so Eliza finished her sentence.
“That’s just the way God made you, honey.” Careful what you say. You don’t want him thinking he’s better than everybody else. You still have another son who’s not as gifted and talented. “It’s not that you’re any better than the other kids, just maybe a little smarter in one area or another. But each of us has special talents to offer. Mr. Dunleavy, Miss Posey and your teachers just think you’ll be able to grow your special talents better in this new school.”
“Okay, Mommy. Can I get back to class now? I think I’m missing gym and we’re learning how to play basketball today!”
“You have a great kid there, Mrs. Trellis,” Miss Posey said, smiling appreciatively at Eliza, who warmed with pride and smiled back as she hugged her son and watched him scamper off.
“I don’t know where he gets it all from,” Eliza said half-jokingly.
“Like you said, God,” Miss Posey said.
Mr. Dunleavy cleared his throat, signaling the end of the meeting and his displeasure at Miss Posey’s last statement. It was a public school, and teachers were not supposed to be voicing any religious commentary. “We will make the transfer beginning next year then, if you and your husband agree.”
IT WAS the family tradition that the youngest go first in unwrapping their Christmas presents. Austin beamed with delight, standing in the middle of their small living room in his plaid flannel pajamas as he unwrapped his last gift under the tree. He opened the large cardboard box, pulling out a child-sized acoustic guitar.
“Wow,