Kamala could see Mrs Graves through the glass upper half of the classroom door. Rahul’s teacher saw her and gestured to her to wait. Kamala pulled her jacket closer, feeling a sudden chill. The spring morning had an edge to it despite the blue domed sky into which the dogwoods were blooming. This could not be good news. Usually, Mrs Graves was very patient and helpful, unlike some of Rahul’s earlier teachers. What had he done? Tara was arriving around noon. She could not go to fetch her now. Ranjan would have to. Oh no, this was the morning the buyers from Europe were coming. He would be pissed off. She called him.
After what seemed a very long time, Mrs Graves came out and shut the classroom door behind her. The children were all busy reading. All except Rahul, who fixed her with a half-glance as if to say ‘what are you doing here?’ She smiled at him and turned her attention to his teacher.
‘Sorry to bring you here like this,’ Mrs Graves was saying. ‘Things have been building for a while. I was hoping to be able to manage this by myself. But yesterday Rahul had a meltdown. I had to ask for additional help to control him, and finally we had to put him in the “time-out” room. You know we hate doing that but there was no choice. It was getting to be very disruptive for the rest of the class.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Kamala said, ‘do you know what the reason could be? He seemed fine when I dropped him off this morning.’
‘I’m not really qualified to comment, Doctor,’ Mrs Graves said. ‘But he was yelling and screaming, and wouldn’t stop. It happened a few days ago as well. Without one-on-one help, I don’t think this is going to work. You know I really like Rahul, but he obviously has some cognition issues.’
Futility. Dread. Her everyday feelings. What did they expect of her? Who had planned for any of this? You did not grow up thinking that certain events would become part of your life: divorce, road accidents, a break-in, legal wrangles, a prison sentence, a differently abled child. They were events you read about in the paper, things that happened to other people – unlucky people – with whom you could sympathize precisely because they were not you.
‘…and I really do not have that kind of time; there’s also the rest of the class to attend to. We don’t have the resources for a full-time aide unless the district officials agree to pay for it. Maybe you need to talk to them, have his needs analysed again, see if there is a more appropriate environment for him.’
She pressed her hands together like Rahul. ‘The public school system is legally bound to educate him,’ she said.
Rahul’s teacher stared. ‘I think I know that, Doctor.’
‘Yes, of course, I’m sorry,’ Kamala said, ‘but I was hoping that, after his earlier experiences, at least at Pinewood he would settle down.’ Someone walked past them, greeted them, went away. ‘Mrs Graves, please give him another chance. He’s desperate to be “normal”, to fit in. I’ll try to convince the school district to get him an aide. I know this situation is tough on you. I really appreciate what you’ve done for him. If we could just reduce your burden…’
‘Dr Kuruvilla,’ Rahul’s teacher said, ‘I would really like to help him – and you – but my hands are tied. It’s not a question of me giving him another chance, we have to see what is appropriate for Rahul, too. He needs to be in an environment that is most beneficial to him. I’m wondering if a regular classroom is the place for him anyway.’
‘But he has the ability to engage academically, given a chance!’ The words came out more intensely than she had meant. ‘Sorry,’ she said, not wanting Rahul’s teacher to think she was yelling at her.
‘As I said, I’m not really qualified to make that judgement. I also have a duty to the other children and their parents, please understand.’ Mrs Graves took a look at her watch. ‘Besides academics, kids like these have social issues, too, you know. Other kids can be very difficult to get along with. Maybe that’s what is frustrating him.’
‘He seems fine at home,’ Kamala said. Oh, god, was she going to blubber?
Mrs Graves glanced at the class through the door. ‘I’m sorry but you must excuse me, I need to go back in.’
‘So do you want me to take Rahul home now? What must I do? Should I keep him at home for a few days?’ she said.
‘No, we don’t want the school district filing truancy! I guess he can stay till it’s decided what’s to be done. But you really need to think this through. Maybe a special school, I don’t know, or even home-schooling. Excuse me.’ Mrs Graves gave her a brief official smile, and went back in.
Kamala got into her SUV, reversed, drove out of the school parking lot. She turned left onto Gene Snyder at the intersection and headed towards office. She wished she could just go home, to India. There were no inflexible rules and regulations to be followed, no unbendable system that treated people – kids – as though they were not human; of course, there were other ways in which India was indifferent to human misery. But people stood by each other. Didn’t they? The law here was clear. No child to be left behind. But at home, her family, her friends would envelop her, understand her anguish, realize she had been put on a different journey with a whole new unplanned destination.
She checked the time. It was ten-thirty. She called back Ranjan. ‘I can go now,’ she said. ‘I’m done.’
‘Well, I’ve already rescheduled my morning, so I may as well go. What did she say, Rahul’s teacher?’
‘I don’t want to go into all that now, Ranj, please.’ Fatigue settled over her like a fog. ‘It’s all getting very complex.’
‘But what’s the problem? He’s a good kid, no trouble at all. Why aren’t they able to manage him?’
‘Please, dear, details in the evening. Thanks for picking up Tara. Drop her off at home and get on with your stuff. I’ll just see a couple of patients, then head home. I’ve taken the afternoon off.’
She could get a job at any big hospital. That was the advantage of being a doctor. But Ranjan would have a conniption if she even suggested such a thing as going back home. Mostly he behaved as if nothing had changed for them.
How did he do that?
They had drifted apart, like continents. It was she who had had to carve out the new country – an implacable, undiscovered country – out of the continent she found herself on, alone.
How easily Mrs Graves had suggested that home-schooling was an option they would have to consider! At least, she had made it seem as though the difficult part was getting the school district officials to agree to it. That would be difficult, if that was even the way they decided to go.
But what about giving up the journey that had taken years, the journey that had brought you all the way to a brand-new life in a brand-new country, in pursuit of a better life, in pursuit of your own mind?
Ranjan would not even get something like that. If anyone was to make a decision to turn her back on everything that she had done, on her whole life, it would have to be her.