Chapter 4

Even though the school remained too chilly for anyone’s nudity, Norris continued to call a group of new Program selectee names every Monday. And before each weekend began, we messed with the school heat so that on the Monday, we froze ‘em out. Each week, not one of those kids would break ranks with our united front and agree to participate. Even Joyce had gotten called for the Program the week before the Thanksgiving holiday. She proudly told her mum and me how she refused to cooperate.

“They called my name during home room,” she told us. “Me and this guy named Ricky. The teacher told us to go and he laughed, ‘I wanted to say this forever—it’ll be a cold day in hell before I do the Program,’ and everyone laughed. Then he said, ‘ ... and even though it’s colder than hell in here now, this ain’t hell, so I’m staying right here and freeze in place.’

“We all really laughed. He’s a funny guy. Anyway, the teacher looked at me and I just said, ‘Ricky said it all. I can’t add anything to that, except he might be wrong about this not being hell. We actually do have devils here—named Norris and Hayword.’ Well, the class really erupted at that and the teacher had to spend the rest of the time calming everyone down. Everyone wanted to high-five me and Ricky,” she giggled. “Word of what we said spread in the school too and I got lots of compliments from kids. That was wicked.”

I had been hearing from a number of kids that Norris and Hayword were calling to his office, more than once, every kid who had previously been selected for the Program, to try to get them to participate. Joyce had been called by them too, in early December, she told me.

“I was nervous about going but it wasn’t a Monday. Other kids had been called and they said it was to try to convince them to do the Program,” she said.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Not much. Norris told me that if I cooperated, if I changed my mind and did the Program, I would get an ‘A’ in gym and health ed. I told them I wasn’t interested; I already got ‘A’s in those classes. When they asked about why I refused, I told them about my medical condition and how it was criminal how they ignored that for an exemption. I told them that the feeling in my feet was just like frostbite was said to be like and asked them if they could imagine how much it hurt to try to stand when my feet got like that. I can’t even walk then. Also, I told them that the Program is just wrong. I totally refuse to do sex stuff with random kids and was that all, because I don’t want to discuss this any more.”

“What did they say?”

“You know, that dumb stuff about not graduating and all. You told us about how to get around that, Emma.”

I heard from others that Norris and Hayword were having the same conversation with all the selected kids. Those kids were proud that they continued to refuse, but I’m quite certain that the school’s temperature played a significant part in their decision. In addition to his continued threatening of students with having their diplomas withheld, Norris sent out several appeals to parents, asking them to make their children participate. Mrs F got one of those letters. We both laughed at it. Judging by the number of kids who wound up in the Program, those appeals failed too.

As well, Norris had contacted me several additional times, but when I learnt that he wanted to discuss my Program participation, I had told him that I respectfully declined to have any discussion about that. I can only assume that I was the prime target of Norris’ and Hayword’s campaign to either convince me or force me to participate, because they viewed me as the leader and organizer of the resistance, and that if they could get me to participate, then the other kids would follow suit.

Through means which couldn’t be traced back to me, I even bought several full-page spreads in the local newspapers that explained what seniors could do to get the proof of graduation that colleges or employers required, if the school refused to issue diplomas or transcripts. We heard that Hayword was livid over those ads.

Perhaps in desperation, Hayword even got the National Program Office to threaten to withhold federal school aid funds from the state, but doing that would take congressional action, so that particular threat was largely ignored at state level. For us kids, that news was met with a “so what?” attitude. I suspect that, by now, Mr Smith, and perhaps even Norris, couldn’t care less. I think that they just wanted to get their school back to normal again.

The video meeting with the British consul in Anchorage, Sir George Marshall, was interesting. It turned out that he actually knew my grandfather. He had met him when he—Sir George—had been in his mid-twenties and had just started out in the British Foreign Office, where he had gotten a plum job as a junior attaché in trade in the New York consulate. My grandfather had dealt with him in working out duties and tariffs for several of his companies and their work together brought Sir George to the attention of top people in the Foreign Office. Basically my grandad had set him on his career path. He was delighted to meet me and was sorrowed to learn about my family and about my missing uncle, and he vowed to do whatever was necessary to help me.

So, evil me, I asked him to help me snarl up the Program’s federal bureaucracy by bombarding them with all kinds of distracting requests. We came up with a few ace ideas right then.

One: To help the British government understand the impact of the Program on any British child studying in the U.S.A., the Program office needed to provide the embassy with an accounting of each British or Commonwealth child’s location by state and school; the status of the Program’s operation in that state and school; a listing of any British national child who had been a participant, voluntary or not, in that school’s Program; and if such cases existed, a statement of what U.K. authority permitted the child to participate. For each of these cases of participation, the U.K. government would request a response from the U.S. State Department as to why this participation was enforced.

We figured that one, as convoluted as it was, was worth some bureaucratic anguish.

Two: The British government would request from the federal government, for each state having the Program operating in its schools, proof that that state’s laws had incorporated the Program as part of that state’s educational curriculum, if that state had a British national enrolled in a school in that state. If the state required Program participation as a formal part of its curriculum by law, then the British government would require that that particular state education department must make a formal request for the participation for each individual British national child selected before the child could participate, and delay any participation until approval is given. If no such curriculum law existed, the British government would require that the state education department provide a detailed justification to the British government, citing the points of existing law which would require a British child on a sponsor F, H, K, L, and M dependent’s visa to participate in their schools’ Programs before any participation request can be made.

“Hah. That’s enough gobbledygook to make heads spin,” he chuckled. “Our embassy will reply to the Program office that the questions in my request would need to be addressed to our embassy’s satisfaction before your case is considered, Emma. We’ll also put a hold on having any British national selected, even if it’s a voluntary participation, and we’ll let your ... pardon, you’re a Brit too ... the State Department know of this ruling.”

“Excuse me if I’m being rude, Sir George,” I said. “You’re way too senior to be the head of a pretty remote consulate—Alaska, hello? And you’re a knight too, so you’ve done some important stuff.”

“Ha-ha-ha, Emma, Emma...” he roared. “I had heard a bit about you; we did some background checking, don’t you know. Top marks for your perceptiveness. It’s true; I’m not the consul here. I’m the U.K. ambassador to the U.S., actually. News of your insightfulness has preceded you. What ... erm ... the kids say ... twigged you about me?”

I gasped at that news. The blinkin’ ambassador? Wow. “Actually, sir, it’s what I said I noticed, but also how you referred to the embassy and what they would do and how they would contact the State Department. I didn’t think that a local consul would swing that much authority to say what the embassy would do.”

“Well, bully for you, my dear, very perceptive. How I got involved with you now is because the consul here in Anchorage had to return to London a few days ago for a family emergency. I’m scheduled to be in LA tomorrow and was traveling there from an economic meeting in Tokyo which just ended, and since Anchorage is right along the flight route, I decided to alter my schedule a bit and step in for our consul at your meeting instead of delaying it; I was also curious to see if Malcolm was truly your grandad and meet you if he was.”

“Oh, I’m sorry if I overstepped my manners, sir. The problems I’m seeing with the school trying to enforce Program participation here have shaken me up a bit.”

“No doubt, no doubt. And your manners are just fine, aren’t they. Now then. I wonder if you would be open to visiting me and my son’s family back in the D.C. area. My son is one of our mission’s military attachés and his family lives in Maryland, not far from the embassy. We’ve heard that the Program is coming to Maryland schools soon, so this Program business of yours is much more than just of academic interest to me now. My grandchildren will, I’m sure, get caught up in all of that rot when it starts and I’d very much like to have you share your thoughts about how you’ve been able to stall it with your school and its officials. As well, I know that my granddaughters would just adore you; they are 11 and 13 now.”

Sir George made me promise to try to come to Washington to visit him and his family when the weather got better and I told him that I’d do my best to make it happen. I really liked him. Good sense of humor, humble and self-deprecating. No stuffed shirt here. It would be wonderful to have a connection to my family again, even indirectly.

Monday, mid-December. Third period. I’m still in school; still no talk about my being expelled. Well, not this week, anyway. Although the Program ranks very high on the stupidity scale, you have to give them high marks for persistence. It’s mid-December and the holiday break is just upon us. But they’re still picking names and announcing them. A thought. What if everyone selected throughout the year, on the last week of school, they decided to do their week then? Hmm. That’s over 400 naked bodies all milling around here. Second thought. Eeewww. That’s a really bad idea.

Bloody hell, now what? I was wool-gathering again and the teacher is calling on me.

“Yes, Mr Johns? I’m sorry, I wasn’t really listening.”

Giggles from my classmates. They know how I tend to zone out at times, when my mind seizes on an interesting idea and starts doing things with it. I read that Einstein did this and called it his “thought experiments.” That term describes exactly what I do, but I don’t think he invented the term. Another German? Wait ... he was Swiss ... no, German but became Swiss ... Damn. There I go again. Miss Williams wants me to go to her office and the note the messenger brought says it’s about college admissions testing. Well, I haven’t had any contact with her since that attempted stripping debacle, so maybe it’s safe to see what she wants.

“Hello, Emma,” she greeted me.

Good, she looks relaxed, not angry. I looked at her hands, shoulders, and seat posture. All relaxed. It’s good, so far.

“Hi!” I chirped. “College testing?”

“Right. I’m letting the juniors know that the next group of tests will be coming up in February. You’ll need to select your tests and register for them by January 10.”

I nodded. “Okay, but...”

“One second, there’s more. Since you haven’t participated in the Program, I’m required to tell you that you won’t be permitted to graduate. But you have a chance to make that up; however, the rules are that you participate for the week you missed and then do a second week as the penalty. Now...”

I held up my hand. “Miss Williams. You said this was about college testing. Then you bring up the Program. I don’t like being lied to, ma’am.”

She started again, but I stopped her.

“No. You be quiet now and hear what I’m saying. If you interrupt, I’ll walk right out. First, I don’t need college testing. I don’t even need high school graduation. I’m in a doctoral program in physics at UAF and was told that I will receive my bachelor’s and PhD degrees together, probably in about a year and a half, if I stay on the schedule they gave me. I’m supposed to be teaching an undergrad physics course there this spring too, as a teaching assistant. Do you see why I don’t need testing or a high school diploma? You can talk now, ma’am.”

“Impossible. I don’t believe you; you must be having delusions.”

“I really don’t care if you believe me or not, Miss Williams. Now, is that all?”

“Not really. There’s a little more. Mr Hayword thinks that he’s gotten the British embassy to agree to compel you to participate in the Program. He found out...”

“Wait. I gotta hear this, but first, I need you to look straight into my eyes when you talk to me, not at your computer monitor. He was told that the embassy would require me to participate? Say that in your own words but look straight at me.”

“Just what do you think you are doing, miss?” she objected, but looked at me. “Yes, as I said, they will require you to do the Program.”

“Sorry, Miss Williams, that was a total lie. Not only was Hayword not told that, he hasn’t even heard back from the embassy yet. The school will get an official post from them in about a month and it will only say that they are still investigating. How can I tell you’re lying? First, your eyes gave you away. Second, I know the ambassador personally and we’ve been in touch. I had an email from him this past Friday, in fact.”

“My god, she’s not like any teen kid,” Williams whispered, barely audibly. “She’s like a machine; doesn’t even act human...”

I looked at her in disgust. “If that’s what you think of me, then I have no need for you from now on. Please don’t ask to see me again; if you persist, I’ll need to get my attorney involved. Understand?”

I walked out, shaking my head. Well, that was a bust. How she went from relaxed and polite to a nasty bitch in three minutes flat is just frikkin’ amazing.

But apparently the mind games weren’t over yet, since on the Tuesday morning, I got a request to go to Principal Norris’ office. Well, he knew I wouldn’t meet with him about my Program resistance. I wondered if this was about yesterday’s encounter with Williams. I had the messenger wait whilst I composed a note back.

“Sorry, I’m not going yet,” I told them as the class gasped. “I’m sending a note back. He can read it and respond, okay?”

I wrote quickly,

You know I will not meet to discuss Program issues nor any interactions with your staff members concerning the Program. Please let me know the meeting’s topic and give me your assurance that you will stay on that topic. –Emma Clarke

I folded it up and found a roll of sellotape in my backpack and sealed the note with a piece. I didn’t want prying eyes to read it. Anyway, the response was quick; less than 15 minutes later, Norris sent a note back that he wanted to discuss the tutoring operation which I ran in that otherwise unused classroom. I asked for the messenger to wait again and wrote a second note.

I’ll meet with you to discuss my tutoring. Please limit the discussion to that subject. These are my additional conditions:

Mr Smith is to be present.

An office secretary is to be present.

No other person will attend. –Emma Clarke

I folded and taped my note securely to be returned. Later in the day I got the message that Norris had arranged to meet with me during the first period tomorrow.

I went into Norris’ office with the secretary following me, and before I was sat down in the chair that was clearly meant for me, I faced Norris.

“Okay, sir, here I am. I need to repeat what I wrote when I agreed to meet with you. The agenda is my tutoring and our discussion will keep to that topic. I asked...”

“Hold on, young lady,” Norris interrupted. “This is my meeting. I will set the rules here, miss.”

I shot him a look, trying to mimic his fierce stare. Hmm. Not much reaction. I guess my “stare” needs more work.

Anyway, “Sir. You will listen to me. If you intend to make this into an interrogation session instead of the meeting I agreed to, I’m not staying. I agreed to have a meeting. Not to appear for questioning or to receive a lecture. Let me finish now or I’m gone.”

He raised his hand, palm up, toward me. Fine. Being a bit passive-aggressive; giving in but not verbalizing his surrender—I can deal with that.

I continued, “I was saying, I asked that Mr Smith come ‘cause he has some knowledge of my tutoring and he even got us a room to use. I assume he knows how successful and popular that project has been?” I looked at Mr Smith.

Mr Smith nodded yes.

“And I wanted Mrs Begay here for female support since I can’t trust Miss Williams. Williams insulted me to my face.”

Norris scowled at that but I raised a warning finger. “ ... And Mrs Begay can take notes too, okay, ma’am?”

She smiled at me. “Yes, Emma.”

I sat down and when Norris started to open his mouth to say something, I jumped right in again.

“Okay, our agenda is tutoring. I’ll give you an overview of where the tutoring project is right now, ‘cause I want to lay the groundwork for how it continues after I’m gone from the school...”

Whilst I was talking, I noticed that Smith was trying hard to keep from chuckling and Norris was fuming.

“ ... so I’ve begun to teach my methods to several sophomores and freshmen who are good students and want to help.”

Norris finally found his voice. “Stop, stop. This isn’t what I wanted to discuss. You just can’t take over, Miss Clarke, like you’re the one running the school.”

“I’m not going to stoop to being snide, sir, but tell me that you’re doing a good job at it yourself,” I said innocently, plucking at my heavy sweater.

The other two burst out in short laughs. Norris gave them a nasty look.

I jumped into the momentary silence. “So tell me how my talking about my plans for the future of the tutoring project is off-topic, please.”

Smith spoke up. “Wait, wait, everyone. Let’s not have this wind up like the last time. This is an important discussion, so let’s not lose sight of the real benefits the tutoring has been for everyone in the school, the teachers too.”