Chapter Sixteen: Test

Icarus

After his conference, Gabe seemed to be watching me. Of course, I began to watch him as well, but it was difficult to remember. He seemed to pay extra attention when I read aloud at breakfast, and whenever I was using the internet. Sometimes he would ask me what I was searching. I gave him nondescript, boring answers like, “Grasshoppers.” And then I printed an article about grasshoppers and read it the next day.

Gabe also became more intense in his questioning me about theatre school. He asked what I was doing in ballet, and what girls I talked to. He seemed surprised when I told him that I didn’t talk to anybody.

“Why not?” He asked.

I looked out the window. “I don’t know. They bore me. And we don’t really have time in class to talk. After class, they sort of group together. They knew each other before I joined.” Gabe persisted various questions, until one day, I asked him, “Why do you want to know all this?”

Gabe sighed. “Your teacher thinks that you’re mentally unstable, Icarus.”

I nodded. “I know. Do you?”

Gabe was shocked. He sat down on the couch, musing. This worried me. “I’m not sure, Icarus.”

“I’m not like other children,” I said. I bowed my head.

Gabe held out his hands and pulled me onto his lap, kissing my forehead. “No. You’re not like anybody else I’ve ever met. You’re just… Icarus. And you shouldn’t try to be anything else. But I would like to see you trying to be more friendly to the kids in your school and at theatre.”

I exhaled a sigh, frustrated. I wasn’t sure how to make him understand. “I… can’t. They’re just… stupid. Don’t you see?”

“No.”

“They’re stupid. They don’t know… anything. About the world. They’re…”

“Naïve?”

“Yes. Exactly.” I sparked up. “That’s exactly the word I wanted.”

Gabe’s hands rested on my shoulders. “I want to ask you something, Icarus, and I would like you to consider it for a minute before making up your mind.”

“Okay. I’ll listen.” I rearranged my feet under me into a more comfortable position. “What is it?”

“I want to take you for two tests. First-” Gabe held up one finger. “First, an IQ test. Okay? Just to see where you’re at. I think it would be a good idea. Second-” he held up his second finger. “A psychological test. To make sure you don’t have any problems we don’t know about.”

“And if I did have problems?” I asked, my face falling.

“It wouldn’t mean I loved you less. It would just help to explain some of the difficulties we might have with you in the future, okay? And if you do well on these tests, I’ll look into a special school for more intelligent children. A private school.”

I nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it,” I said. “I’ll do very well, just for you.”

“Special for me?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Sounds like a plan.” Gabe set me on the ground and stood up. “I’m going to go start dinner. Oh, and one more request?”

I turned to face him, an innocent expression on my face.

“No more newspaper articles about grasshoppers.”