Duplicate Minds

Nine

He walks down the empty hallways, shaking with anger. It makes it difficult to pay attention to his whereabouts. When he catches sight of a janitor emptying a trash can, he stops and asks for directions to the principal's office. The janitor, a heavyset, red-headed man with dead eyes, simply points in the opposite direction.

Rajeev offers a half-hearted thanks and trudges off in the direction of the janitor's finger. He finds the office, opens the door and sees Mira sitting in a chair in front of the principal's desk. Her arms are folded across her chest and he can't help thinking she looks like a petulant toddler.

He looks up at the principal, an uptight, middle-aged woman with shoulder-length, platinum blonde hair: Mrs. Patricia Hayes.

Principal Hayes meets his gaze and nods. She gestures toward another chair in front of her desk.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Sundaram. Please, have a seat."

He sits. He turns to Mira and says through gritted teeth, "What have you done, Mira?"

Hayes holds out a hand to stop him. "Mr. Sundaram, it's not as bad as it looks. Mira isn't in trouble per se. We just have some concerns."

"What concerns?"

She nods her head, working her way up to an explanation. "Mira hasn't been paying attention in history class, according to Mr. Yancey. He's caught her reading books, passing notes, sleeping. She doesn't turn in homework and she has failed the last three tests in a row. She doesn't seem to have this problem in any of her other classes. So, like I said, we're concerned. If she fails history, she'll have to retake it and pass before she can graduate."

Hearing about his daughter's misbehavior feels like a personal assault. Here he is, out on the road every single day to put food on the table and squirrel away some extra money so his daughter can go to college and make something of herself, and she's jeopardizing it all so she can pass inane notes to her friends and catch up on sleep she doesn't need.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" he asks.

She shrugs. "Nothing."

"What do you mean, 'nothing'? You're going to fail history if you don't shape up. What's going on? Or are you just lazy?"

She shrugs again. "Sure, yeah. I'm just lazy, I guess."

"How dare you—"

"Mr. Sundaram," Hayes interrupts, "there's no reason to get upset. Mira is—"

"No reason to be upset? You said she could fail history and not graduate!"

"Yes, but it's not too late. If Mira buckles down, she could squeak by with a D, maybe a C. Even if she fails, she can take summer classes." She pauses to brush her bangs out of her eyes. "I think what we need to focus on is cultivating an environment where Mira can thrive," she continues. "What kind of study environment does she have at home? I can offer some suggestions that would . . ."

Rajeev tries to follow what Hayes is saying, but he finds himself preoccupied with something she'd said earlier: "She doesn't seem to have this problem in any of her other classes." He asks himself, why not?

He pretends to listen to the rest of what the principal has to say, nodding along somberly as if he is deeply invested in what she's saying, but the entire time he's thinking that he needs to speak with his daughter alone.

Finally, she's done speaking and he stands. "Principal Hayes, thank you so much for bringing this to my attention. Rest assured, Sarah and I are going to have a long, hard discussion with Mira when we get home and there are going to be some changes around our house."