Get yourself on the front page of the local newspaper.
It was obvious I was going to have problems with this task. A time for mature reflection on these texts and where they were leading me was obviously called for. I closed my eyes and concentrated.
First things first. Back to the thorny problem of who was sending them. I had a shortlist of two – Mum and Dad (one person) and Grandad. I’d never heard any of them use Latin, but I supposed that wasn’t a clinching argument on the grounds that I’d never heard anyone use Latin. Get yourself on the front page of the local newspaper. That’s not something a parent would suggest, especially since it also said it doesn’t matter how you do it. Maybe if it had said ‘get yourself on the front page of the newspaper for charitable services to the community’ then I’d keep Mum and Dad as suspects. But the text encouraged me to do anything to get there. Holding up the local McDonald’s with a sawn-off shotgun, tying myself naked to a statue in the CBD, stealing a car and ramming it into a storefront. There were plenty of possibilities, but Mum and Dad certainly wouldn’t be encouraging them. They’d gone ballistic when I stood in front of the canteen with a placard, for God’s sake. I couldn’t see them being character witnesses at my trial for urban terrorism, arguing that at least I’d made it onto the front page of the local newspaper and all should therefore be forgiven.
It couldn’t be them.
Unless they trusted my judgement on what would be acceptable and unacceptable actions to achieve the challenge.
No. It really couldn’t be them.
That left Grandad. What did Sherlock Holmes say? When you’ve eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.
Grandad.
What was becoming increasingly obvious was that these challenges were designed to improve my self-confidence. I’d spent most of my life trying to be as small as possible, scuttling through the world unobserved. The sender of the texts was trying to widen my experience, putting me centre stage and proving I had no reason to be self-conscious. And, I had to admit, it was working. Thus it followed that the sender was someone who cared about me. Cared for me. As far as I knew only four people did that, and I’d eliminated three. You can’t argue with Sherlock.
Grandad.
I was dimly aware of muffled laughter. I opened my eyes and nearly wet myself.
Ms Singh’s face was centimetres from mine. Now, her face is lovely – it’s just that I wasn’t expecting it to fill my vision. So I jumped a surprising and possibly impossible distance off my chair.
‘Sorry to disturb you, Rob,’ she said. The laughter increased. ‘It’s just that I’ve asked you three times for the solution to this problem. After the first, I figured you were sleeping. After the third I was afraid you were dead. Believe me, I’m happy to know you’re still in the land of the living.’
‘Sorry, Miss,’ I said. ‘I was thinking.’
‘Excellent. That makes a welcome change. So you have the solution?’
‘Er, I wasn’t actually thinking about maths. Sorry, Miss.’
‘No apologies necessary, Rob. We can work on the problem together during lunchtime detention today. How does that sound?’
Blankety awful was the reply, but I kept that in my head.
‘Okay,’ I mumbled.
‘No, no, no, Rob. Definitely not “okay”. My lunch is my lunch and the last thing I want is to spend it with students, particularly a student who wasn’t paying attention during the time I am paid to teach. “Okay”, I’m afraid, doesn’t cut it.’
I thought for a moment.
‘You’re welcome, Rob,’ she said.
We didn’t work on the problem. I worked on it, while Ms Singh ate a small salad and marked assignments. At least it gave me an opportunity to get out my phone, though I kept it hidden beneath the desk.
Do you really mean ANYTHING, Grandad? I texted back.
I wasn’t expecting a reply. True, I’d got one once but that was only in response to a Yes or No question. The times I’d rung, I got zilch.
Nonetheless, my phone buzzed.
Whatever it takes, said the text message. And this isn’t your grandfather.
‘Checking your phone during detention?’ said Ms Singh. How could she sneak up on me like that? Was she a ninja? ‘I think that means another meeting tomorrow lunchtime, Rob. What’s your view?’
I thought.
‘Thanks, Ms Singh,’ I said. ‘It’s quality time and I really enjoy it.’