Castling: A Novel (NaNoWriMo21)

40. Close-Up 'Actors' Zoom-In

Test Week – Day 1

Close your doors, lock your windows, and duck and cover like your great-grandparents did, because this isn't an ordinary week.

It's...

Close-up "actors" zoom-in.

...Test week!

Insert a Wilhelm scream here, if you'd prefer.

It's like I mentioned a few days ago, these series of tests aren't like your average tests. They're state standardized, equal across the sheets. The weeks of prep work, going over material, how to fill in circles, what the right pencil to use is, was all for this. You'd swear these tests are life and death the way my old teacher harped, brow dripping sweat. I like Ms. Tudor's approach. She sees them for what they are.

Show what you know, don't stress.

"It's not meant to be hard," were her words last week.

I've been through this twice in my life, and...actually, she's right. The questions are pretty easy (or, at least, I think they are). You don't have to waste days of your life studying. The results go to the Board. They clump the data together to grade individual district performance. The closest thing you get to a grade is this printed-out, mailed-out PowerPoint presentation, highlighting personal results.

To me? That means absolutely nothing.

To teachers and the Board? Kieran's mom once said funding.

"You awake there?" Mom asks as we stop at the Krodi's corner.

I'm here, I'm just focused on getting through each test, so I can get this charade over with. Dad and I talked about it on our walk Friday. He's not a proponent of these tests because he says that they've done nothing to improve the quality of education.

I guess so? I just take the tests.

"Give them the answers they want, not what you think is right."

Giving them the answers that they want to pass makes it sound like it's another Ender's Game scenario. How many aliens do I have to murder before the semester is up?

"Do your best."

Seriously, this isn't anything worth feeling anxious about. I've played the state's game. I've excelled in my favorite subjects. It's just another round in this senseless battle. I'm not going to get a prize or a sticker for doing well. I don't get a certificate of completion or recognition in any pamphlet or newsletter. They dump my score into the pot with Max's, Kieran's, Leo's, mix it up, the rest is the school's issue.

I think.

I don't know how this works internally.

"I hope I remember how to fill in a circle," I say on the drive in.

"Should we send you back to kindergarten?" Mom asks.

"Sure."

Was it a checkmark or an X?

"These are stupid," I say, almost with a whisper of Max.

"Well, you have to do them. I had to do them."

Translation? I did it, so you should have to do them, too. And people wonder why the world is bad? Look in the mirror.

"You'll live."

Hi, railroad.

Bye, railroad.

"Good morning, Chase."