June 6, Thursday

The day of exams is here. It is not so hot now that winter is here, and a thin cover of high clouds blocks the sun. Daniel and I walk to school without talking. He is always serious and studies very hard. I am good with numbers but reading and writing are just a mystery to me.

We enter the school yard and line up outside the classroom with the other children. When teacher opens the door we file in and stand next to our desks. Hands over hearts, we face the flag and sing the anthem. Teacher tells us to be seated. I bow my head and say a prayer: Please Lord, help me to do well in the exam. Please make the letters hold still on the paper so I can read them. I promise I’ll be good. Please help me. Amen.

Teacher puts the papers face down on our desks; we can’t turn them over until she tells us to. She gives the signal and there is a rustling noise as everyone turns the pages over. Some of the kids shuffle the papers to look at everything but I just start on the first page, which is numbers. I can do this. Add, subtract, multiply, divide, fractions. Three pages and I know I can get a good grade. Then I turn to page four.

Words. A story and questions. The letters dance on the page and tease me. I sneak a look at teacher who is walking between the rows of desks with her hands clasped behind her back, watching everyone working and making sure their eyes don’t stray. I want to look out the window, but I won’t look away from my paper and get in trouble. I pretend to read, and then write a few words I know how to write and pretend to answer the questions.

My tummy hurts and my head feels hot. The clock on the wall goes tick, tick, tick. I keep my eyes down and pretend to work. Finally the teacher calls time.

“Put down your pencils and turn your papers over so I may collect them.”

She goes down the rows, picking up papers and stacking them in her arms. She goes to her desk in the back of the room to put down the exams, then returns to stand in the front of the class.

“Children, this year we have something new to evaluate your progress in school. We will be calling you one by one to Senhora Rocha’s office where you will be given a passage to read to her out loud. Please sit quietly until your name is called.”

One of my friends is called and goes out the door. She is gone for about ten minutes and returns, smiling. Maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe I will be able to read it. Other students return from the office, pick up their things and leave for home.

“Eva!”

I can hardly get up from my desk, but my feet take me to Senhora Rocha’s office door.

“Eva, come in. Have a seat there.”

She hands me a piece of paper with print on it.

“Eva, I want you to read as far as you can down the page. When it becomes too difficult, just let me know and you will stop there.”

She has a paper with a ruler on it; I guess she follows along the same thing the student is reading. I look at the letters, the words shimmering and disappearing like the heat in the distance on the road outside of town.

“You may begin, Eva.”

I try to read a few words that I know, like the, and you. But I can’t put them together in a sentence. And I can’t read it, there’s no use in pretending. I try not to cry but I can’t stop the tears. I look up at Senhora Rocha.

“Eva, what’s wrong? It’s not so difficult, you don’t have to read all of it! We just want to know how you are doing with your reading.”

“Senhora, I can’t read it. I want to, but I can’t.”

Tears are coming in big sobs now and I try to catch my breath.

“Eva, I know it’s hard when you’re nervous. Why don’t you take a moment to compose yourself and try again?”

“It’s no use, Senhora. I can’t read. Something is wrong with my eyes. I really want to, but I just can’t!”

She stares at me a long time, while I try to catch my breath. She isn’t mean like teacher, she just looks puzzled and worried.

“Very well, Eva. I will review with teacher and we will look at your written exam. We will then speak with your father about your progress and what comes next. You may gather your things and go home.”

“Thank you, Senhora. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.”

She nods kindly and I go back to the classroom. Daniel is waiting outside.

“Eva, what happened? Are you all right? Did you do all right on your exam?”

“I can’t read, Daniel. I am good with numbers but I just can’t read. I am going to be in trouble with Papai.”

“Eva don’t worry. It will be all right.”

We walk home slowly, not talking. My tears have dried on my face. I look down at the dust swirling around our shoes as we walk.