Chapter 4

September 4, 2017

A tall, young girl is hugging her father after her friends departed after dropping her home.

“How was practice?”

“It was fun. We did four-line finishing and long passes to streakers. I think the team is going to be pretty good, even with a very young offense. Dad, I really wish I could have played this year. I get along really well with the five seniors, particularly Shameka, who is probably the best player on the team. An-n-n-nnd, Dad, I hope that I can play next year.”

“I figured that out all on my own, favorite wonderful daughter of mine. You know that your mother and I are worried about that. Upper classmen on the opposing teams are going to be bigger and stronger than you.”

“I know, Dad. But Shameka’s been teaching me the kinds of things that are either legal at that level or are things that defenders can get away with most of the time. She’s knocked me on my butt a few times, but it’s just falling on grass and dirt. It’s just a bit of surprise; she certainly hasn’t hurt me, though I do have a bruise or two. Besides, I’m still growing. I measured myself this weekend and I’m now over 5’3”. That makes three inches just this year and it’s only early September. I’ve also been doing my weight reps a lot and it’s getting very easy, even with the two-pounder.”

“I wondered about that. It seems like every day I have to bend my head less than the day before to look you in the eyes. You’ll probably need some new clothes soon, too, huh?”

“Yes, I will. I’m sorry.”

“No, Civia. We knew going in ... Well, we didn’t think about this at the time, but once we got over the initial excitement of having you, we thought that you might well get to be quite tall. I am not so old that I don’t remember my own childhood and how your grandparents could barely keep me in clothes, I grew so quickly at your age. Don’t worry about not having clothes that fit. We’ll make it. That contact information that Heather gave you looks like it will work for us. So, please, don’t worry about outgrowing clothes. We won’t let our daughter look like a ragamuffin.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“What else about today? Did you teach ... Sh ... Shameka some dribbling?”

“No, we’ll do that tomorrow at the field near Beth’s house. We did rockets today, and Shameka learned it quickly. Oh, she drove us home, but we convinced her to join us in the pick-up game on that field. You remember about those boys, right?”

The tall man nodded.

“Heather and I were on the same team with Shameka and Gracey; Beth and Rhee were on the other team. We girls probably would have been split evenly among the teams, but the other team captain decided to get the better of the two goalies instead of another of us girls.” The girl smiled, then said, “He was the only boy selected before all the girls were taken.”

“So, the boys have obviously learned that it’s better to have those icky girls and win.”

“Da-addd,” the girl said, her eyes rolling, but with a smile on her face. “Those boys are all older than us. Well, than the six of us. Shameka’s older than all of them, I think. And she knew our team captain, Jamaal, because they were both on the debate team at the high school last year. That’s what you were talking about, right?”

“Oh, that’s interesting. Yes, that’s what I suggested. You seem to have a mind that would do well at that. You could ask her what’s involved and what she thought about it.”

“I thought I would. Dad, I know you’ve always told me to be open with people that are not obviously menacing. Shameka’s just about six feet tall and obviously strong, and obviously black; she’s very dark-skinned. She makes a great example of what you were telling me. Shameka is someone that could cause ... const ... consten...”

“Consternation?”

“Yes, consternation in people that don’t know her or that have problems with accepting blacks. But she’s so smart and so nice, even to little girls like me. I really like her.”

The tall, young girl had to get hold of her emotions, as her voice had broken a bit on that last sentence. After ten seconds or so, she continued.

“She’s so funny. She’ll slip into, I guess, sort of gangsta speak with us and it gets us laughing, breaks the ice in situations that might have become tense. She was the team’s captain last year, and I don’t know that anyone would vote for anyone else this year. Beth is really impressed by her. She watches Shameka a lot. I watch Beth watch her, and it’s like Beth is standing there, just learning. Every once in a while, Beth’s face will get this expression that’s a little like surprise, but it’s ... it’s not that. I think it’s ... maybe ... something like, ‘Oh, I didn’t think about that in that way.’ Does that make sense, Dad?”

“It does. I watch her ... I watch all of them when they’re around, because I’ve never seen kids their age ... even girls, which are usually much better than boys of similar age, manage to look at the world so much like adults, but still with that interest in learning that young kids have. Like you have. She and Liya are very similar in some of those respects, but I think that Beth is a little bit ahead of Liya in that. However, even Rhee, who seems the most childish of the group, or, rather, allows herself to act the more childish of the group – and that’s not with the pejorative sense of ‘childish.’ Despite that, Rhee is much more mature acting than any boy I’ve ever had on any of the baseball teams I’ve coached and I think that is because she is more mature, much more mature, than any of those boys. That is an amazing group of girls into which you’ve stumbled. Your mom and I are quite happy about that.”

“I am, too. I always knew that I was somewhat dissatisfied, but I didn’t understand that it was because I didn’t have friends that think like me and are interested in the same things I am. Dad, I’ve almost always been happy with my parents, but I’ve never been as happy as I am now. Thanks for letting me spend so much time with them.”

“We like it, too. We like to see you happy, yet still be someone of whom we can be proud, and we are very proud. What do you think? Enough of the mushy stuff?”

“Da-adddd.”

“Between practice and the pick-up game, about what are you most proud?”

The tall, young girl dropped her head. Her father gently lifted her chin, and she looked back up at him.

“I know that you don’t like to brag, and we appreciate that. But we also appreciate learning everything that makes Civia happy, proud.”

“Do you ... I know you remember all the time you helped me learn to do bicycle kicks. I did one today in the pick-up game and scored a goal.”

The tall, young girl’s father stood in front of her, his hands on her shoulders, staring at this amazing athlete that he and his wife were raising. She did not quite understand his expression or the things that were going on in his mind behind his eyes, so to cover her nervousness, she explained.

“Gracey stole the ball from Rhee, slid past her, then booted it deep for Heather. She and I had started streaking as soon as Gracey obviously had possession. Heather carried it up the right wing to about the distance upfield as the penalty stripe and then crossed to me. Their center back got some of his head on the ball and instead of it leading me into the box, the ball was going to go behind me, just like the goal I got the first week we played with the boys. I did not have any other good options. I didn’t have time to think about it, I just did it, a full overhead bicycle. AND IT WORKED! Even Beth and Rhee, who were on the other team, hugged me. Dad, even if I were to manage that a dozen more times and in very important games, I will always remember that one. Thanks, so much, for helping me for so long to figure out how to do that.”

The tall, young girl’s father surreptitiously wiped his eyes as he hugged his wonderful daughter.

September 9, 2017

A tall, young girl gets into the back seat of a modest car and buckles in behind the tall man driving. The tall woman, to whom the girl bears some resemblance, turns to the girl.

“How was the sleepover?”

“Spectacular! Wonderful! Every time I go there, something good ... or even better ... happens to me. We need to have a talk about my education when we get home.”

“What,” asked the man, while looking in the rearview at his daughter. “Are you going to be joining Heather at the university?”

The girl looked dumbfounded for a few seconds, then an odd smile crept onto her face.

“Sort of.”

The man did a double-take as he recognized that cat-that-caught-the-canary smile on his daughter’s face. He started to open his mouth in question but saw his wife’s furrowed expression, so closed it.

The woman asked, “What do you mean by that?”

“Mom, Dad, because of a ... an offhand comment by Heather, I wound up talking with her and Rhee, then with Charlie, about pre-calculus math. Charlie thinks that, if I wanted and did the work, I could take calculus in 10^th grade.”

The woman’s face showed incredulity, while the man seemed resigned to yet another out-of-leftfield surprise to his world engendered by his astonishing, amazing, and confounding daughter.

“Okay, let’s step back to what Civia said about having a discussion... at home. From the surprise in the beginning of it, I am sure that I do not want to be driving during any more of this discussion.”

The tall, young girl was not surprised at her father’s response. Instead, she beamed at him through the rearview mirror, apparently very happy and content with her world at the moment.

In the comfort of their living room, the three sat down and restarted the discussion begun in the car.

“Dad, Mom, Heather mentioned ‘orders of magnitude’ in our conversation after waking up this morning. I asked her to explain and she and Beth did that. It was simple and an interesting way to look at numbers. Once I showed that I completely understood the concept, Heather said something like ‘We’ll have you in calculus by the time you get to high school.’ I thought she was joking and told her that I’m not as smart as she is.”

When her father began to object, she held up her hand and said, “She told me ... I’m summarizing here ... that with my intelligence and work ethic that I could get through all the pre-calculus math requirements before 9^th grade. She and Rhee said that a lot of the pre-algebra math was repetitive and that I could get through all of it this year, as well as start in on Algebra 1. Rhee said that she thought that I could understand the basics of algebra now.”

The girl’s father looked at her mother, then back at the girl.

“They’re probably right, at least about the pre-algebra requirements. I remember feeling that we were taking forever to get anywhere in those classes. While I worry about over-estimating your capabilities in learning, the basics of algebra really are simple, so I agree with Rhee.”

The tall, young girl looked at her father with raised eyebrows.

“They are. I’m sure that I could spend ten minutes pointing them out to you ... right now ... and at the end of the ten minutes, you would understand them.”

The tall, young girl’s eyebrows rose farther; she said, “Really?”

“Absolutely. The basics are quite simple. Do you want to do it?”

“Yes, please. That would be great!”

The man turned to his wife and asked, “May we use your white board? Is there anything on it that you need to save?”

She stood with her phone and walked to the kitchen. She took a picture of the white board, then erased it.

“No. Feel free to use it. I’ll stay and watch,” she said while she sat at the kitchen table, an amused look on her face.

The tall, young girl joined her mother at the table; her father stood by the small board and picked up the marker and wrote an equation on it.

4 + 7 = 11

“Now, if I perform some arithmetic function on both sides of the equation, that is, both sides of the equal sign, the equation, while exhibiting different values, will not have changed in any real fashion. As example, I could subtract seven from both sides.”