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“I’m not sure I understand,” Christy told Mrs. Daniels, Molly’s fourth grade teacher. “She’s already the youngest child in the class. How could this be good for her?”
Christy had gone to school with a girl who was a year younger than the rest of the students, and she had never fit in. She was teased and bullied and ended up transferring to some school where nobody knew her age or circumstance.
“I know that this is highly unusual, and that Molly has only been with us for a few months, but Mr. Urbansky and I feel very strongly that this is the right move for Molly.”
“But what about everything she will miss in the fifth grade?” Christy tried to think back fourteen years, but all she could remember from that year was learning about sex education. Was there really anything all that important that happened in fifth grade?
“She would have to do some work over the summer, but for the most part, she would just pick up on everything next year without a problem. She’s years beyond her peers as it is. She’d just need to learn some new math skills, but honestly, she could probably teach the subject.”
“But sixth grade is middle school. She’s ten. Is she really ready to be thrown to the sharks?” Christy vividly remembered middle school, and her memories were not pretty.
“Well, yes, that is of some concern. She’s awfully small, and the high schoolers are going to seem like giants—”
“High schoolers? You said sixth grade. You can’t be thinking of moving her all the way into high school!” Christy felt sick. What was Mrs. Daniels thinking? She wanted to stand up and bolt from the room and might have if the teacher hadn’t gently laid her hand on Christy’s arm.
“I’m sorry. I assumed you knew. Our middle and high schools are combined.”
“You want her to go to school with high schoolers? She would be lost in a sea of bigger kids. Kids who drive and drink and have sex and—”
“Whoa,” Mrs. Daniels said. “Let’s slow down a bit. There are fewer than three-hundred kids in the school, and almost half are middle schoolers. The school itself is small. She would not be lost. Furthermore, while there are issues there just like in any other school, these are good kids, top-notch students who go on to good colleges and military academies. Molly would fit right in.”
“She fits right in where she is,” Christy insisted.
Mrs. Daniels sat back. “Do you really believe that? How often does Molly talk about her friends?”
Christy pressed her lips together and thought about it. “Well, she talks about her classes, science and math mostly, and what she’s learning.” Actually, what she already knows and has to patiently sit through while everyone else learns it, Christy thought. “And she talks about her friend, um...” She tried to come up with a name or two but drew a blank.
Shaking her head, Mrs. Daniels breathed in and out through her nose. “She doesn’t have any. I hate to say it, but she doesn’t have a single friend. She eats lunch alone every day, usually reading a book, and she never engages with any of the kids at recess. She either reads or does homework. She gravitates toward any and all adults who enter the room. The volunteers love her because she’s such a big help, but the other children are intimidated by her. Have you paid attention to the way she talks?”
“What do you mean?” They’d moved to the island from Central Maryland, not far from NASA, and she didn’t think they had any kind of accent.
“She doesn’t talk like a ten-year-old. She converses like an adult. The kids don’t...” She inhaled and thought for a moment. “They aren’t able to communicate with her. She’s years ahead of them. To be honest, Christy, sixth grade probably isn’t advanced enough for Molly.”
Christy sat back against the hard, wooden chair and stared at the teacher. She felt like she’d had the wind knocked out of her, but she couldn’t disagree. She knew that Molly was academically superior to her peers, but to move her up a grade? She needed to talk to her mother. She needed to talk to Fred. She didn’t know what to think or say or do. How was she supposed to process this? How was she supposed to make the right decision when, to her, Molly was just her little sister?
Mrs. Daniels patted her hand. “I know it’s a lot to take in. Why don’t you take a few days to think it over? Talk to Molly. I’m sure Mr. Urbansky would be happy to talk to you, too. I bet we could arrange for you to visit the school, take a tour, sit in on one of Molly’s potential classes.”
Christy just nodded. Her mind was in a fog. She stood quietly, thanked Mrs. Daniels, and promised to get back to her. The drive to the Windjammer was a blur, as was the rest of the afternoon.
🌙 🌙 🌙
The morning sun shone through the kitchen window, and the heavenly smell of freshly baked doughnuts filled the air. Diane once thought she’d tire of the smell, but it never got old.
“Have you heard anything about the camp scholarship?” she asked Christy as they filled the case with freshly baked doughnuts. The young woman had been lost in thought ever since she arrived.
“Yes and no. I got a call from Mr. Patterson saying I would be receiving some paperwork in the mail.” Christy shrugged. “Nothing yet.”
“Oh, you know how the mail is these days. It’ll be here today or tomorrow. Or next week.” She made a face trying to get Christy to smile, but she didn’t seem to notice. “Is there something bothering you, Christy?”
Eyes, fraught with weariness, blinked once then twice, and Christy pressed her lips together until they turned white. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course, you can. I’ve always told you that I’m here if you need anything or want to talk.” Diane closed the case and motioned with her head. “Come on. Coffee time.” She picked up two mugs and filled them with hot coffee, then topped them both off with a bit of French vanilla cream. It was the only way she drank her coffee, unless it was a pleasant evening with friends and there was alcohol on hand. She’d gotten Christy hooked on the cream as well.
They took a seat at the counter, and Diane checked the time on the coffee-and-doughnut-decorated clock on the wall. They had everything ready for opening with fifteen minutes to spare. She waited patiently while Christy blew on her coffee a few times then took a sip. She put the mug back down and looked outside toward the street. Diane was tempted to ask her again if anything was bothering her, but the answer to that was obvious.
After a very deep inhale, Christy spoke, never taking her eyes from the window. She slowly repeated the conversation with Molly’s teacher, the worry on her face becoming more evident as she spoke. The poor child looked ten years older than she was. When she finished, Diane took a long drink and sat back, trying to come up with the best advice. Never having had any children of her own, solutions to these types of problems sometimes came easily to her as they often do when you’ve no skin in the game. But other times, she had to draw on the bits and pieces of intellect she’d gleaned from years of watching other families tackle issues.
Much as Christy did, Diane took a deep breath and blew it out before asking, “What does Molly think?”
Christy’s eyes widened in surprise. “I... I haven’t asked her.”
It was Diane’s turn to be surprised. “Why not? She’s the one who’s going to have to live with the decision.”
Christy shook her head. “She’s a child. She can’t possibly know the ramifications of her decision.”
“Based on what her teacher said, and on what you know as her sister and in loco parentis, do you really think she’d make a decision through the same thought process as a normal child?”
Christy’s face reddened as she snapped, “She is a normal child.”
Diane felt the sting as if she’d been slapped and reproached herself for her careless use of words. “Yes, of course she is.” Then she rethought the carelessness. “And she’s not.”
The percolating coffee machine seemed as loud as a train whistle as the two women sat staring at each other. Finally, Christy’s features softened, and she slowly shook her head.
“I know,” she said with a sigh. “She’s not really normal. At ten, I was still coloring and reading Nancy Drew. Molly makes rockets out of straws and paper towel rolls and reads Scientific American.” She looked down at her hands. “I get it. I get what her teacher is saying. Up until recently, it never occurred to me that the conversations Molly and I have are not the kinds of things a normal ten-year-old talks about—dwarf stars and the theory of gravitational pull and the possibility of life on one of Jupiter’s moons. Those types of topics were frequently discussed at the dinner table, so of course, Molly would know about those things and talk about them. But yesterday, the whole time I was hanging up shirts and folding swim trunks at the store, I kept thinking about the things I did at her age, and I realized Molly isn’t at all like other kids, and it’s not just because her father introduced her to all this stuff.” She threw up her hands as though they held and released all the things her stepfather had taught them. “She knows what she’s talking about. She gets it. She’s years beyond other kids her age or even older ones.”
Diane sat quietly and listened, letting Christy give more examples of Molly’s advanced intellect. She nodded and made the proper noises when necessary but let Christy unburden everything in her poor, young heart, including her own “incognizance”—a word that made Diane smile under the circumstances—as to how to make the right decision.
With empty mugs, a ticking clock, and a room full of verbosities hanging in the air as if a cartoonist had exhausted his supply of word balloons, Diane knew there was no more time to dwell on the conversation. Besides, to her ears, the answer was obvious.
“I think you already know what you have to do, Christy. It’s time to talk to Molly and see if she’s in agreement.”
“And what if she’s not? What if this scares her to death?”
Diane thought about the precocious little girl and smiled.
“If she truly doesn’t want to move up, or if it frightens her, then you can discuss with the school the possibility of waiting another year. But do you really think that will happen?” She stood and walked toward the door.
Christy stood, too, and picked up the mugs. “Is this what it feels like to wonder if you’re about to make a decision that will alter the entire course of your child’s life?”
Diane laughed as she unlocked the door. “You’re asking the wrong woman, but in my humble opinion, as they say, Molly can handle whatever course her life takes.”
🌙 🌙 🌙
In a folder tucked under her arm, Christy carried an enrollment form, a health form, and the letter she’d received from NASA letting her know that Molly had been awarded enough money to cover all three camps being offered that summer. She could have mailed the papers, but she wanted to be sure they got into the proper hands. She had to beg Dr. Swann’s receptionist to squeeze Molly in for a physical and didn’t want to lose that precious form in the mail. Besides, she was anxious to visit the facility ahead of time and quell any sadness that might overcome her at the thought that Fred wouldn’t be there.
Taking a deep breath, Christy headed toward the building, reminding herself how proud Fred would be of Molly. The child was not only ecstatic about camp, she had no reservations at all about moving up in school and seemed relieved that she was being given the chance to attend middle school. Molly was also relieved that somebody finally recognized her situation and had the wherewithal to do something about it.
Christy smiled, thinking about Molly, and turned down a corridor that led her to the correct office. She handed over the contents of the folder, and the woman behind the desk kindly smiled at her and reached out a hand.
“Well, you’re Molly’s mother. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. I’m Linda.”
Christy felt a slight twinge in her stomach as she shook Linda’s hand. “Um, I’m Christy, Molly’s sister. And her legal guardian. Our parents were... They’re deceased.” She gestured toward the papers. “My guardian status is laid out in here.”
The woman sucked in a quick breath, and her mouth formed that O-shape that people tend to make when they’re at a loss for words.
“I’m so sorry. I just meant, I, well, I guess that explains it. It’s just not normal for us to receive a check that covers the cost of all three camps and then some.”
“Excuse me? ‘And then some’?”
“Well, the check covers the camps and any expenses Molly might incur, and included with the check were these.” She reached behind her and picked up a backpack and handed it to Christy.
The backpack was brand new with the tags still attached. Inside were a water bottle, a baseball cap, and a t-shirt, all with the NASA logo. There was also a bottle of sunscreen and a box of bug repellent wipes. Christy closed the bag and looked up, unable to close her mouth.
“These all came with the scholarship?”
Linda’s brow creased behind her glasses, and her perfectly defined, red lips pursed. “Scholarship?”
“The one that paid for camp? It included all of this?”
Linda was clearly confused, but her features softened into a smile as she nodded. “Of course, yes, all of this was included. We’re really excited to have Molly join us.”
“Christy? Christy McLane?”
Christy looked up at a familiar face—grey hair, wire glasses, and a kind smile. It took her a moment before a name clicked in her head. She smiled broadly as she went to him.
“Dr. Johnson. It’s so good to see you again.” She reached out her hand but he opened his arms, and she naturally fell into them, remembering his kindness at the funeral and how attentive he always was to her and Molly when they visited here with Fred, which they had each time a rocket was launched.
The older man released her and grinned ear to ear. “I was elated to hear from Sam that Molly was going to attend our camps. I had no idea that you had relocated to the area.”
Christy’s heart ached for just a moment as she recalled why they had moved. “We had to sell the house in Rockville, so we moved into Fred’s cottage on the island.” She forced a smile. “We love it here, though, and Molly is doing really well in school.” To say the least, she thought.
“How wonderful. That means you two can stop in and visit and attend our programs. That is, if you’re interested.”
“I think we would be, Dr. Johnson. Thank you.”
“I see you’ve met Linda. You probably remember Jane. She just retired, and Linda is doing a splendid job taking on Jane’s role of keeping this place running smoothly.”
Christy smiled, and then she realized that Dr. Johnson wasn’t alone. Behind him stood a young man, who seemed to appear out of nowhere, with dark curly hair and bright blue eyes hidden behind thick glasses, which he nervously pushed up on his nose. She looked at him and smiled.
“Hi,” she said.
“Oh!” Dr. Johnson jumped as though he’d forgotten the man was behind him. “Christy, this is Jared Stevenson. He’s just beginning the summer here with us. He’ll be helping with some of the camp programs, so you may see him from time to time.”
Christy reached out her hand. “Hi, I’m Christy McLane. My adopted father, Fred, worked here occasionally.”
The man’s eyes suddenly lit up, the bulb in his head switching on with realization. “Fred McLane? As in Dr. Frederick McLane, the man behind the Jupiter Papers?” His eyes were wide with awe. “I’ve read them at least six times. He was brilliant.” Christy flinched at the word was. Perhaps realizing he said something wrong, his face turned red, and he looked down at his shoes.
“Yeah, I suppose so. Fred was great. My biological father passed away when I was three, and Fred married my mother and adopted me. My sister, Molly, is theirs.” It always felt funny to admit that, the fact that Molly was ‘theirs’ while she wasn’t. Though she rarely called Fred her father, he truly was in every sense of the word.
Sensing her discomfort, or perhaps just wanting to move things along, Dr. Johnson looked past her. “Linda, is everything in order for Molly to attend camp?”
“Yes, Dr. Johnson. The, um, scholarship has been applied, and I gave Ms. McLane the other items.”
Dr. Johnson looked down at the backpack that Christy clutched. “Wonderful. I look forward to seeing you and Molly around this summer. If either of you needs anything, anything at all, don’t hesitate to contact me.” He reached into his pocket and took out a gold case from which he extracted a business card. He handed Christy the card. “I mean that. Anything you need, you just call or email me.”
She glanced at the card.
Dr. Simon Johnson, Ph.D., Planetary Sciences, Astronomy, and Astrophysics
She felt her fingers tighten around the card with the familiar accolades behind the name, then she felt a twinge of pride. Perhaps Molly’s name would someday be on a card like this. Her fingers relaxed, and she looked up at Dr. Johnson and smiled.
“Thank you. Molly is so excited about camp. We’ll be counting the days until summer.”
She said her goodbyes and went out to her car, placing the backpack on the seat beside her. There was something strange about the scholarship and all that it included, but she wasn’t going to question it. Whatever had been arranged was for Molly’s benefit, and for that, Christy was eternally grateful.
🌙 🌙 🌙
“These are all for me?” Molly’s eyes were wide as she emptied the contents of the backpack, one by one, onto the kitchen table.
“All for you, Squirt. I think you’re an official NASA camper now.”
“This is so incredible! I can’t believe I’m going to a camp at NASA.”
“Well, technically, you’re going to a camp at a flight facility operated by NASA. I mean, it’s not exactly the same.”
“You’re wrong,” Molly said, her eyes wide and blinking like an owl’s. “It’s NASA’s premier location for conducting research using suborbital vehicles. They’ve launched more than sixteen-thousand rockets into space, and they track low-orbiting spacecraft. The facility conducts about fifty missions a year, and...” She elongated the word and paused dramatically. “It has even sent supplies to the International Space Station.” She nodded her head as though to punctuate the importance of her words.
“Wow, I’m impressed,” Christy said, and she meant it.
“They do impressive stuff,” Molly said, tugging off her shirt and pulling the NASA tee on instead.
“Not with the rockets, with you. I’m impressed by you. How do you know all that?”
Molly cocked her head to the side and blinked several times, giving Christy a look Molly had perfected to show how underestimated she felt she was. “I read. Duh. And I followed Dad’s work. He was a genius, you know.”
“You don’t say,” Christy mused, knowing the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
“You know, he could have worked at Cape Canaveral or the Johnson Space Center if he’d wanted to, but Dad liked it here. And at Goddard. He said the other places were too big and fussy.” She wrinkled her nose as she opened the step stool and climbed up to the sink to fill her water bottle.
“Molly, I haven’t washed that yet.” Christy reached for the bottle, but Molly nudged her away, finished filling it, and twisted on the cap.
“It doesn’t need washing. It’s healthier to introduce the body to a variety of germs before adulthood.” She hopped down and gathered her things. “Call me when dinner’s ready. I have to get started on my math homework. Mrs. Daniels wants to see how much I can do before the school year ends. I looked at it on the bus ride, though, and it’s nothing like the stuff I watched Dad do. I should have it all finished within a week at most. I’m hoping to skip sixth grade math and move right into algebra. That way I can start trigonometry by ninth grade. I wonder if the school has an astronomy class...” Her voice trailed off as her bedroom door closed.
Christy leaned against the kitchen counter and released a stream of air. Her little sister was quickly outgrowing her.
Great White Makes Late Return
OCEARCH reported that Mary Lee, a popular Great White Shark, has made a late return to the coastal waters off Assateague. Tagged with a transmitter on September 17, 2012, Mary Lee is a favorite of shark watchers, and her return creates a frenzy of enthusiastic fans trying to catch a glimpse of the Great White. Named after the mother of OCEARCH expedition leader, Chris Fischer, Mary Lee typically finds her way to the area in early May and is usually far from these waters by the time swim season begins. The shark’s return sent warning signals of various kinds to everyone on the island. Why was she so late in returning to the area? How long will she stay? Are there other sharks with her? Is it safe to go into the water? Scientists and Beachgoers alike can’t help but marvel while at the same time, remain wary of what this means for the summer.
The Chincoteague Herald, May 28