Chapter Four
The Importance of School
Evan spent the afternoon introducing their visitor from an alternate dimension to the family computer. Minecraft puzzled Kogane. “Don’t you have a shovel? We could just did our own mine in your backyard?” Cookie Clicker brought up a question Evan had never imagined: “Cookie? What’s that?” Interestingly, he caught onto Portal immediately and was playing like a pro in no time.
Arranging a seventh seat at the table for dinner proved a challenge. Evan argued in favor of boys on one side and girls on the other, but division by age won in the end. Kogane went in the center, with Evan on one side and seven -year-old Charlotte on the other. They were all bumping elbows, but Kogane didn’t seem to mind. Kenny and Nancy had regular spacing on the opposite side of the table. They could also both drive. It just wasn’t fair. The older kids got to do all the cool stuff.
Mom cooked chicken for dinner, since it would make more sense to a “hunter-gatherer” like Kogane than the alternative – spaghetti. Kenny tried to give Kogane a lecture on how to use silverware, but Mom shushed him and Kogane wielded his fork and knife like he’d been born with them in his hands.
Dinner was an unqualified success, until Dad started talking.
“Monday I’m taking Kogane over to Hawkins HIgh to enroll him in school,” he announced to the room in general.
Evan tried not to frown. He knew this was coming since their visit to the Pizza Office, but he hoped to avoid it somehow.
“Actually,” Evan said, shifting food around on his plate with his fork, “I was thinking the best way for Kogane to learn about our world would be for me to take a couple weeks off school and run him through the Ultimate Accelerated Cultural Experience and Intelligence Transfer (U-ACE-IT) program.”
Dad took a deep breath. “Sorry, but no-one’s getting out any school, especially you.”
“In my dimension,” Kogane said, “I’m already considered an adult. My parents and relatives taught me everything I need know. I can hunt, fish, skin a rabbit, sharpen blades. Soon I will build my own home.”
“Impressive,” Dad admitted, “but until your fox sneezes again and takes you home, you’ll need to learn to live in our world. That includes driving a car, working at a fast food restaurant, and–”
“Learning math you’ll never use in real life?” Kenny asked.
Dad gave him a stern look.
Kenny lowered his head and muttered, “Sorry.”
“The point is,” Dad resumed, “that our world is more complex than yours and you need to learn how to be a good member of the community.”
“Math is a responsibility?” Nancy asked. As the oldest child, she had learned how to say something sarcastic without making it sound that way.
“Everything is a responsibility,” Dad replied.
“That’s stretching it a bit far.” She gathered her dishes and walked to the sink. “Maybe you should give them some real-world application of their schooling, starting with how to take out the garbage.”
Dad brightened. “You’re right! Real-world application is just what we need right now.”
A half hour later they stood in the lobby of the Living Whale Aquarium, minus Mom, who grumbled about needing to empty the garbages as the rest of them headed out to the car.
Dad spread his arms wide. “This is the real world.”
A large mural of underwater sea life covered one wall, while the entrance to the gift shop occupied the other. Evan was fairly certain that every living (non-human) creature in the building was outside of its “real world” habitat.
Kenny crossed his arms and frowned. “Are you sure you didn’t mean to take us to the planetarium?”
“Work with me a moment.” Dad glanced around behind him, as if trying to figure out what to do next. He motioned to them to follow and led the way into one of the exhibits. They stopped in front of a large glass panel separating them from the penguins. He spread his arms wide in a complete repeat of what he just did in the lobby. “This is a school of penguins.”
Kogane just stared, dumbfounded. Evan glanced at his brother and sisters from the corner of his eye. They were also dumbfounded, but for a different reason. Where exactly was Dad going with this?
“Actually,” Nancy said, “this a colony of penguins. I think the school of fish is on the other side of the building.” Evan’s oldest sister read entirely too many books for her own good.
Dad held up one hand in a sign of surrender. “All right. You got me. But for the sake of argument, let’s say this is a school of penguins. If nothing else, it’s a community of fish and that’s what schools are all about really. After the math and science and all that boring stuff you never think you’re going to use in life – what you’re really learning is how to be a responsible and productive member of society. Take these penguins, for example.” He turned and pointed at a random penguin. “Do you think this little guy learned to use his underwater radar by simply hopping in the water and swimming around. No, of course not. It takes a community to raise a penguin. He learned that valuable skill from his Aunts and Uncles, his neighbor across the street, and–”
“His school teacher,” Kenny added, unsuccessfully trying to hide his smirk.
Dad didn’t notice and went on. “Exactly. His school teacher.”
Nancy raised her hand.
Dad frowned. “Yes, Nancy?”
“Are you sure the penguin’s school teacher taught him radar? Perhaps, maybe, you’re thinking of dolphins . . . ?”
Dad turned to look at the creatures behind the glass. “These are definitely penguins and clearly not dolphins.”
“Excuse me, sir.” Nancy waved at an aquarium worker walking nearby. “We need a fact check over here”
The man didn’t even turn his head and continued on his way.
Dad raised a hand in surrender. “Okay, okay. Maybe you got me on that one, although I’m pretty sure these are penguins. Let’s just say that learning is important and you can’t learn everything by playing video games.”
Dad drove them up a high mountain road, stopping only when a “Closed for Winter” gate blocked the way ahead. They hiked through slushy snow, twisting through the dense trees in a seemingly random pattern. Dad would answer none of their questions, especially not, “Are we there yet.” Evan felt his legs were about to fall off when they finally stopped in a small clearing.
“Everyone, close your eyes.” Dad not only closed his eyes, but covered them with his hands. “Then spin around in a circle.” He demonstrated.
Kogane gave Evan a look that seemed to say, “Are you sure he’s quite sane?”
Evan rolled his eyes, covered them with his hands, then started spinning around in a circle.
“No peeking,” Dad said.
Evan’s elbow struck something, which was followed by an umph from Nancy. “Sorry,” he called out.
“Keep spinning Evan,” Dad said. “And keep those eyes covered.”
Evan sighed and spinned some more.
“Careful, Charlotte,” Dad said. “You don’t want to fall off that cliff.”
Evan dropped his hands and looked down at his feet, then in the direction of his youngest sister. Everyone else was looking around now also. The clearing extended to the trees with no sign of a drop-off anywhere.
Dad laughed at his little prank, but no one else did. He raised his arms out again, as if embracing the entire “real world” around them. “Okay, which way is the car?”
Evan breathed a sigh of relief. When your feet were sore, nothing was better than a direct question instead of a long lecture.
When no one responded, Dad resorted to pointing at victims. “Evan?”
Despite all the spinning in place, everyone stood in exactly the same positions, which means nothing had changed. Evan raised his arm and pointed in the direction they had come.
“Wrong. Kenny?”
His older brother pointed the opposite direction, although Evan was pretty sure they hadn’t come that way.
“Wrong again.”
Nancy and Charlotte pointed the two remaining directions, only to have Dad proclaim them both wrong. Kogane was last, and he pointed directly up into the sky.
“Does anyone remember arriving by parachute?” Dad smirked.
“Well,” Nancy replied, “we didn’t come from any of the four points of the compass and I don’t recall climbing out of a well.”
Dad froze, then glanced around in a brief panic. “Ah, well. You see, none of you paid attention on our way here.” He winced. “So this is a survival skill test. Not something you read about in a romance novel. Not something you’ll experience in Minecraft.”
Nancy groaned and her shoulders drooped. “We’re lost, aren’t we?”
Dad smiled and opened his mouth as if he were about to dispute the claim, then he closed his mouth and, with a sheepish expression, he said, “Yes.”
Next: 5 – Marked