His Brother's Gift. Mary Forbes J.Читать онлайн книгу.
from Will’s skin. Could he be any more of an ass? If Savanna knew how he felt…
“Yeah, sport, I’m here because of Christopher.”
“Oh.” A tone of resignation.
“Sorry, pal. I should’ve told you about Chris earlier. I will later, okay?”
Valerie had gone back to typing. As always, she wasn’t getting involved. More loudly than necessary he said, “But right now, I need to speak with his teacher and Mr. Germaine.”
Valerie’s head turned. “Of course, Will,” she murmured. “Follow me.” She led him down a tiny hallway to another door, one he’d gone through more than once as a student and not always for praise. “Mr. Germaine, Will’s here to see you.” She gave him a hesitant smile, then bustled back to her desk.
Will nodded to the principal, “Harry,” and shook the teacher’s hand. “Ms. Murphy.” The woman looked to be in her early twenties. He’d bet his helicopter that Starlight Elementary was her first teaching position. A neophyte in the business of education. And kids with Asperger’s Syndrome.
Behind the desk, the man Will had flown up the Copper River for fly-fishing the past four summers gestured to the empty chair beside Ms. Murphy. “Thanks for coming, Will. Penny, here, wanted to discuss some possibilities for your nephew next year. Since she teaches a split fifth-sixth grade, he’ll be in her class again come September. Penny, why don’t you explain your concerns?”
The woman studied a notebook in her lap. “As you know, Memorial Day weekend and the end of the school term is only seven weeks away, Mr. Rubens. While Ms. Stowe has agreed to volunteer in class with Christopher for the interim, she’s made it clear she won’t be here in the fall.”
Oddly, hearing the information from this girl-teacher made it more real than hearing it from Savanna. Will’s gut clenched.
“Therefore, Mr. Germaine and I recommend Chris be placed in a specialized program in September.”
“Specialized program?”
“A special needs class. There’s a very good one in Palmer.”
Will’s heart pounded. They wanted Christopher to travel sixty miles to attend a class separate from his peers? The idea did not sit right with Will. Years ago, educators like Ms. Murphy had singled him out because he’d been three grades ahead in math. The geek in elementary school.
The daredevil in high school.
“Has he been in a special class before?” he asked calmly.
“Well, according to Ms. Stowe, no. But—”
“Then he’s not going in one now.”
“Mr. Rubens—”
“Will,” Harry began.
“No,” Will said, forcing his breathing to level. “I want Chris staying here, with the other kids. I don’t care where you get the help, but he’s not going into a class that’ll make him feel more different than he is.”
“Mr. Rubens.” Ms. Murphy clenched her hands on top of her notebook. “I know Christopher has been in class only a week and I’m not completely familiar with his behaviors, but I’ve read that autistic children can be highly agitated if…if things don’t go their way.” Her knuckles paled with pressure. Will almost felt sorry for her. “They’re also prone to being very focused.”
And that was a problem? Didn’t teachers want their students focused?
Suddenly his gut spun like a dryer. He had to step up to the plate. For Dennis—and that young math geek twenty years ago. But not without Savanna. He’d been wrong, thinking to send her back to the Lower 48.
You need her help.
“He’s staying in your class, Ms. Murphy.” Will regarded Harry with what he hoped was a take-no-prisoners look. “I won’t have his routine interfered with. Meantime, get him to use an agenda. Ms. Stowe has one and he follows it to the minute.” During the evenings at Georgia’s, he’d witnessed Savanna model behavior through workable techniques by way of the agenda.
“It isn’t that simple,” Ms. Murphy stressed. “For example, Christopher will need assistance in switching tasks.”
Will turned to her. “Isn’t that your job?”
The woman flushed; Harry cleared his throat. “Penny has twenty-nine students in two grades, Will. Christopher takes up more time than one regular student. A smaller class would eliminate confusion for him.”
“Chris is a bright kid,” Will said stubbornly. Like my brother. “He’s quick to catch onto routine.” Sort of. “I’ve seen it at his grandmother’s house. He doesn’t need a special class.”
Harry sighed. “Fine, but he will require testing to qualify for an assistant in the fall.”
Tested. Like a guinea pig. Will could imagine what testing involved for a boy with Christopher’s condition. Hadn’t Will gone through similar rigors at six, ten, twelve, because the ratio of his age to his acumen didn’t match?
Harry checked the file folder in front of him. “You’re the boy’s guardian, right?”
Would perspectives change if he admitted, Biologically I’m his father? “Yeah,” he said, shifting uncomfortably on his chair. “Look, Harry. Give me a name and I’ll hire her to help Christopher. I don’t want him tested.”
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