The Newman Resident (7 page)

“Everything in this place is simple, yet profound,” Richard whispered to Carol. She gave him the look.

“As you know,” Ms. Garrett said, “Dr. Newman has been working with the President, Congress, and corporate leaders to receive the required governmental approvals and financial backing to expand the Newman Home system throughout the country. If all goes as planned, we will begin to even further expand our educational system by the end of the year. It won’t be long before you find a Newman Home in every state!”

“Making millions more off children,” Richard said to Carol while the parents applauded.

“You can’t put a price tag on an excellent education,” Carol said.

“Why do they even do this orientation? They don’t need to sell Newman. These parents have been begging to get their kids in here.”

“And if they didn’t invite them, you’d complain about a lack of transparency. They’re giving the parents a chance to tour the home.”

“Then why don’t they let us see all of it?”

“See what I mean? There’s nothing they can do to please you.”

Slide of a sweet, little girl and a handsome boy in Newman uniforms sitting on a bench, looking at their computer tablets.

“Let’s be honest for a moment,” Ms. Garrett said.

“It’s about time,” Richard whispered.

“The Newman Home is not for everyone. Many parents are nostalgic about pampering and smothering their children because it makes them feel indispensible. But Newman parents put their children first. They want their children raised by experts. They want the best teachers, the best classrooms, the best curriculum, the best classmates for their children. The best parents understand that Newman residents grow up to be the best adults.”

The audience stood, applauding as though their children’s futures depended upon their enthusiasm. Ms. Garrett spoke a command to the lectern, and the screen raised to reveal a one-way mirror, almost the entire height and length of the wall. On the other side of the mirror was the classroom with the plush green carpet and rain forest wallpaper from the video of the teacher with the hand puppets. Ten children sat at their desks, watching their teacher as she wrote an equation on the white board at the front of the room. There was a number of other equations already on the board.

“The quality of our instruction is unsurpassed,” Ms. Garrett said. “Here, Dr. Martinez, one of our science teachers, is explaining how scientists considered the Higgs particle to be definitive until the collider experiments recently proved the Higgs field more complicated than it needed to be. How many of you understood the latest theories of physics when you were nine?”

Polite laughter made its way through the audience.

“Here at Newman, we stress learning through competition. The latest research is conclusive: competition motivates learning.
As we like to say, ‘Without competition, you’re left with a monopoly of ignorance.’ At the end of each trimester, we administer standardized examinations which certify what the residents have mastered. These examinations go beyond what any other school uses anywhere in the world. They drill deeper into the students’ knowledge and their ability to extrapolate from that knowledge. Other school systems have taken a look at our examinations and concluded they are advanced in their ability to examine what the students know—and that they are too difficult for the schools to use with their students.”

Slide of words covering the screen, “The Newman Home: Developing Minds for the Future
.”

There was applause throughout the auditorium, coupled with pleased laughter among the parents. They had made the right decision.

A freckled boy with bright red hair sat in the back of the classroom, staring straight into the one-way mirror, licking his fingers and trying to plaster a cowlick down in the back. The teacher was consumed with writing on the white board, and the other children had their backs to him.

A small wave of suppressed giggling made its way across the audience. Rather than laughing, though, Richard studied Ms. Garrett for her reaction.

Ms. Garrett faced the parents, trying not to move her lips as she gave a command to the lectern. Just as the curtain began to close, the teacher turned and saw the boy, still struggling with his hair. She glanced at the mirror, then back at the boy. The teacher spoke, and the boy jumped and turned straight ahead. None of the other children looked back at the boy, and the curtain closed.

The lights in the auditorium gradually came up.

“Now, if you will please follow me,” Ms. Garrett said as she straightened her safari shirt and led the way to the exit.

“Aren’t you glad you’re not his father?” Carol said, standing up. “How embarrassing.”

“I guess.”

“Come on, let’s meet with the superintendent.”

Richard didn’t move.

“Don’t you want to meet with him?” Carol asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just strange, that’s all.”

“What?”

“Well, why didn’t any of the other children look back at the red-haired boy when the teacher said something? Wouldn’t that have been the normal reaction?”

“I don’t think—”

“It didn’t look like the teacher yelled. What could she have said that scared him so much?”

“It’s called ‘life,’ Richard,” Carol said. She headed toward the exit where a Newman host was waiting to take them to the superintendent’s office. “Don’t make a big deal out of it, okay?”

Carol left the auditorium with the host. Richard stood up and walked down the steps to the stage. He looked back, but he was alone. After he climbed up onto the stage, he parted the curtain with his hand but couldn’t see anything through the one-way mirror. Then he put his ear up against the cold wall, thinking he heard something. He wasn’t sure, the sound was too muffled, but it sounded like a child crying.

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

H
unter opened the door to the superintendent’s office, but only slightly.

“Are you two sure about this?” he whispered to Richard and Carol. “It’s not too late to keep Christopher with us.”

Carol was about to reply, but Richard pushed the door open so the superintendent could see them. He didn’t want to give Carol a chance to back out. Hunter introduced them to the superintendent, and everyone sat down.

“What did you think of the orientation?” Hunter asked.

Carol spoke quickly. “It was nice to go through it again. It looks like you almost have the funding you need to expand.”

“We’re getting closer,” Hunter said. “Have most of the key players on board.”

No one said anything. Richard looked at his watch, his eyes following the second hand.

“We appreciate your taking the time to meet with us,” Carol said to the superintendent. “I’m sure you’re no less busy than Dr. Newman.”

The superintendent smiled and scooted his chair back to cross his legs. “He and I work very closely together. He used to
introduce himself as the mad scientist, and me as the man who made the experiment a reality.”

“No one asked me if my son could be the subject of an experiment,” Richard said.

“Pardon me?” the superintendent said.

“You have a lot to be proud of,” Carol said. “And the Newman Home
is
an experiment, in the sense that it’s something that’s never been done before.”

“Exactly.”

“In fact,” Hunter said, “I think it’s fair to say it’s no longer an experiment. We’ve arrived at irrefutable scientific conclusions. I wanted to show you both something.” He pointed to a wall. “Brain scan.” A large image of a human brain appeared. “More than any other—”

“Superintendent,” Richard said, “what’s the next step to taking our son out for the sabbatical? I’m sure he’s waiting for us.”

“Actually,” the superintendent said, “I’m not entirely enthusiastic about this sabbatical.”

“No one around here seems to be,” Richard said.

“That policy is a relic from the early days when parents weren’t accustomed to having their young children enroll in school full-time,” the superintendent said. “We quickly found that even regular visits home made it more difficult for the residents to progress cognitively, but we were not as quick to rewrite the policy. No one has ever requested a sabbatical before, so we simply didn’t think there was an urgency to correct the policy.”

“I find it difficult to believe no one has ever requested one before.”

“Three months is a long time for a resident to be out.” The superintendent picked up his ruler. “I don’t know if he will be able to keep up with his peers once he returns. Emotionally and
academically. Our first concern must be the welfare of the resident, not the whims of a parent.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you a minute ago with this brain scan,” Hunter said, pointing to the image on the wall. “When a resident is away from the stimuli we offer here, even for a short period of time, there’s a decrease—”

“Look, maybe you don’t understand what’s going on here,” Richard said to the superintendent, ignoring Hunter. “Our decision has been made. Christopher—‘the resident’—is going to reside with us for a while. We aren’t going to torture him into forgetting everything he’s learned. In fact, we may even teach him something. He’s taking the sabbatical.”

“Of course, Mr. Carson,” the superintendent said. “I’m merely concerned that you’re dragging the resident into your fantasy world of playing and story writing.”

“Just give us the papers. It’s time to get our son home where he belongs.”

“I’m sorry, Superintendent,” Carol said. “Perhaps it would be best for us to simply sign the sabbatical papers and be on our way. We’ve already read the papers and are familiar with their content. I’m afraid when my husband is this determined, there’s not much left to say.”

The superintendent pulled the papers out of the drawer. “Just to be certain, you both realize that while it takes both signatures to receive the resident for the sabbatical, only one signature is required to return him before the sabbatical is over. This is in keeping with the original contract when you enrolled your resident.”

Richard and Carol reviewed the papers and signed them. She thanked the superintendent, shaking his hand, then turned to Hunter, who seemed to shake her hand a little too long and nod, just a little.

After they left the office, Richard could hear the muted sounds of Hunter and the superintendent talking after the door closed. The superintendent’s secretary looked up from her desk and the host, sitting on a sofa nearby, stood up.

“Thanks for letting me do all the talking,” Carol said out of the corner of her mouth.

“Anytime.”

The host led them through the halls until they got to the oak door. Richard and Carol walked into the lobby where he paced while she sat on the couch to wait. Every few minutes he would complain about it taking too long and she would remind him it hadn’t been that long. Finally, the oak door opened and Christopher stepped through. Alone.

Instead of his uniform, he wore blue jeans and a brown corduroy shirt Richard had bought him during his last visit in the winter. They still looked new, though small for him now. “Newman Home” was embroidered on his safari backpack.

Christopher looked at his shoes, not moving. He didn’t look up at his parents, and his left hand, dropped to his side, shook.

Richard kneeled down next to him so their faces could be close. “Hi, Christopher. How are you doing?”

“Hello, Richard,” Christopher almost whispered, still without looking. “Hello, Carol.”

“Hello, Christopher,” Carol said. “Are you okay?”

“Have I done something wrong?” Christopher asked.

“No, Christopher,” Richard said. “Why do you say that?”

“Why am I going to your apartment before the break?”

“You haven’t done anything wrong. We just want you to be home with us. Right, Carol?”

Carol was looking away, trying to keep her composure. She took a deep breath.

“It’ll just be for a little while,” she said. “You’ll get to come back before you know it.”

“Good. I can’t fall behind in my studies.”

“Don’t worry about your studies for a while, okay?” Richard said, standing up. “Let’s just go home.”

Richard held out his hand for his son, but the little boy never reached up to hold it.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

C
hristopher just stared at the floor as Richard locked the front door to their apartment. On the subway ride home, he had tried to have a conversation, but Carol was in no mood and Christopher would only nod at anything said to him. Carol took the bags of takeout to the kitchen while the other two went to the bedroom down the hall.

“I think you’ll really like your room, Christopher. I got it all ready for you.”

“Thank you, Richard.”

Richard opened the door and turned on the light. The boxes and stacks were gone, and the small room almost looked large with just the bed and dresser. There was still nothing on the walls; the Brooklyn Bridge photograph on the dresser of the three of them was the only thing in the room that made it look like something more than a room in a boarding house.

“How do you like it? There’s a lot more room with the boxes cleared out, isn’t there?”

“Richard, how long will this visit be?”

“What do you mean?”

“I need to make my plans,” Christopher said. “And to make my plans, I need to know how long this visit will be.”

“Didn’t they talk to you about what was going on?” Richard asked.

“No. One of the hosts got me out of class this morning and took me to my personal area. He made me change into these clothes, took away my safari uniform, and then took me to you. No one told me anything. I’ll get my uniform back, won’t I?”

Richard sat down on the bed and pulled his son closer to him. “You’re taking the summer sabbatical. That means you will be home with us for three months. This month, next month, and August.”

Christopher’s eyes opened wide. “Then what?”

“Then you’ll go back home,” Carol said, standing in the doorway. “And, if you want to go back sooner, just let us know.”

Richard stared through her. He couldn’t name what he felt, he was afraid to, but it was like when he’d first met his future mother-in-law and sensed that he was being condemned by a one-woman jury. Or on the first day—no, the first entire month—of law school. It wasn’t hatred, or fear, or even anger, though they were all part of what he felt.