The Bell Curve - Jaime Bridgewater (good short books txt) 📗

The Bell Curve

"Who was the first American to die in the Revolutionary War?" I ask Sarah. 

She chews her lip. Her eyes roll up to the ceiling. "Crispus Attucks" she says looking away from me.

I nod my head but she doesn't allow herself to smile, instead her eyes bore into me, waiting for the next question. 

"Who surrendered to the British at the end of the war?"

"Cornwallis." She says immediately but frowns when I don't acknowledge her answer.

"Cornwallis was sick," I tell her, "Who did he send in his place?"

She hesitates and her eyes start to water. I can feel her legs visibly shaken beneath the table.

"Charles O'Hara" I say, but before I finish she puts her head down and starts to sob into her arms. 

 

I push the book I'm reading from across the table. She will understand. Any time we spend not preparing is time wasted. She will want me to study while I can. Everyone else in the Cafeteria is studying too. No one is talking or laughing, except for those studying together like Sarah and I were. 

 

Sarah is better at History than I am, but I'm much better at math and the sciences. I'm shaking too, but I'm shaking less than she is. History isn't as important as the other subjects. She'll really have to score highly on her History to pass. 

 

I've been studying every night for months and so has everyone else. Everyone's future depends on passing the final exam. Everyone here has passed every grade since Kindergarten. Others haven't been so lucky. This will be the last test all of us will ever take, for better or worse. 

 

The bullhorn sounds from the speakers and echoes around the Cafeteria. We all grow even quieter and crane our necks towards the examination room. Ms. Bowles steps out and points at the nearest table to the door. The four students there form a line quickly. Sarah's sobbing continues. 

 

Ms. Bowles points to each table in quick succession. Everyone gets up without a word and files into the line in front of the examination room. Ms. Bowles is nice enough. She's been doing it since before I started school here. She never says a word, just points. 

 

I have to drag Sarah off the table when Ms. Bowles points to us. She stumbles with me, clinging to me as I avoid the gaze of the men in dark blue suits sitting on the far side of the cafeteria. I don't like when they look at us. 

By the time all the tables are cleared, our line stretches halfway across the Cafeteria. The first time I took the exam in Kindergarten, the line had stretched out the Cafeteria double doors, down the hallway there. The line reached 200 at most now. Most of them clutching their arms and staring at the ground. I stare at the door. 

 

Sarah squeaks behind me, "I count 60."

 

I count 60 heads in front of us too, give or take. It won't be long before its my turn and Sarah will follow me. 

The first boy walks through the door. We all wait, our calves itching with sweat. I rehearse the facts I know in my head.

8,16,24,32,40,48,56,64. 

Times tables are helpful. 

 

1,4,9,16,25,36,49,64,81,100,121,144. 

Square Roots are helpful too, but why am I going over them? I know them by heart. I should go over my history in my head again, but I don't care about history. It's not as important. 

 

The door opens and we all snap our attention toward the door. Its Ms. Bowles, calling the second person forward. The line takes a breath, there's no sign of the boy that went in. Another boy enters. 

 

Take

____

____

____

Limp

 

5 steps...

 

Take

Tame

Time

Lime

Limp

 

Word ladders were my favorite. They show off your vocabulary and how well you think on your feet. It shows your creativity. They like creativity. 

 

The door opens again. Ms. Bowles again. We all tense up further. The next boy in line is quick through the door. 

Joseph Smith. Why does that name keep coming up? I can't remember what he did. History has so many names. 

The third boy is the first student to reappear when the door opens. We all gasp and everyone fidgets in line. craning our necks to watch him. He stares forward, trying to keep his face blank, but his quivering lower lip betrays him. He steps out from the shadow of the doorway and types a sharp turn left, hugging the wall. The men in blue suits stiffen to attention but they won't be needed. The boy does what is required of him now. He steps woodenly towards the nurses tent. Sarah would be crying. I would be crying. He disappears behind the red and white candy striped nurses tent. 

 

Nothing stops. The fourth student steps forward when Ms. Bowles calls her. A heavy blonde girl with pretty silken hair. She strides forward with her head held high, determined. Its always hard to follow the first one to fail. She gone for an eternity. She fails too and sobs all the way to the nurses tent. 

 

I count as the line shrinks and keep the percentages in my head. 

 

2 pass, 2 fail. 50%

 

6 pass, 4 fail  60%

 

13 pass, 7 fail 65%

 

Its an absurd thing to keep track of, but we're always studying. Sarah rubs my arm. I can still feel her shaking. 

 

24 Pass, 10 Fail. That's 12/17. 12/16 is 75%. 12/18 is 66%. 12 of 17 would make that 70.5%. 

 

The 11th student to fail is a small thing. A pretty girl with black hair with pigtails beating softly against her back. She can't look any of us in the eye as she steps out the door. Her eyes are watering and her face is red.

 

"I missed them all." She sobs and crumbles to the floor, pulling her legs up to her chest. The men in the blue suits begin to shift. 

 

"To the tent please." One whispers softly. No one wants to do this to her. She stands instantly but doesn't move immediately. Her eyes dart back and forth and everyone can see that she's going to fly. The men in blue see it too and are on her in an instant before she can make a break down the opposite hallway. She can't weigh more than 80 pounds. They lift her up easily as she kicks and wails. The nurses tent must lead to some door because her wailing doesn't stop when she disapears under the tent flap. Instead, they get muffled, but she doesn't stop. I start to tremble for the first time. Sarah shudders behind me. 

 

There is no concentrating with pigtail's sobbing. I can easily count now. 11 more in front of me. I was off on my count of 60

 

24 pass, 11 fail.  I can't concentrate enough to figure out the percent. It doesn't matter because the person in front of me fails too. Luckily, this one goes quietly. A boy with blonde hair so white it almost melts into his scalp. 

24 pass, 12 fail.

 

I can't concentrate anymore. There's no point in studying at this point. I either fail or I pass. I can't hear myself think over the sound of Sarah sobbing. 

 

I turn around to face her and rub her arms like a good friend should. "Sarah, worrying won't help you in there. You need to compose yourself."

"I'm going to run away." She says. 

"No one gets away." I say softly. I don't need to tell her. She knows.

"All I've ever wanted is a family," she says. She's 12, too young to be thinking about that. 

"This is the last test." I tell her. "This is the last one you need to pass."

She nods, but I know she doesn't feel better. 

 

Time passes quicker than it should. 

 

I've lost count. 

29 pass...15 fail? 2 more in front of me. My heart starts to beat quicker. 

 

They both pass in front of me. A bad omen. Everyone knows 66% is the average. 2 pass, 1 fail.

 

Sarah knows, she rubs my back. Ms. Bowles is calling me forward. I look back to her and she lets herself smile. I try to smile back. My feet feel like lead. 

"I'll see you on the other side." she says and I believe her. 

 

I step forward and the door closes behind me. 

 

I'm given a chair without a desk. The room is lit enough so that I can see the walls, but I can't make out the color. There is a teachers desk in front of me, with a projector and screen set up to the side of it. The door in front of me opens and Ms. Collins steps in. 

 

She tested me in 2nd grade and 3rd grade. I remember her being nice enough. Maybe she'll help me relax.  The examiners rotate after each student. They don't want anyone to test back to back. Its supposed to make it easier for everyone. Regardless, Ms. Collins has bags under her eyes. She's been crying. 

 

There are no formal introductions. I"m not sure if she remembers me. Its probably better if she doesn't. She clicks the projector. She clicks the stopwatch in her left hand as soon as the first slide appears on the screen. 

 

4x13. 

 

"52" I say after a moment's hesitation. She clicks the stopwatch and make a scribble on the clipboard on the desk. Was that fast enough? Was that even right?

 

I don't have time to ask because the next question is on the projector. Ms. Collins wouldn't answer me anyway. 

 

Rose -> Time

 

They want me to do it in as little steps as possible.

"Rose. Rome. Tome. Time" I say. Does Rome count. Its a proper noun.

 

3rd slide, I try to stop my fingers from tapping on my thighs. 

 

Black:White as Fire:

 

"Water" I say immediately. Too Easy

 

The slides don't end. Homo Sapiens, 88, x=7. 

 

Tim is 12. His sister is twice as old as he is. In 3 years how old will Tim's sister be?

 

"26" I say. That's wrong. Its too late. Next question. 

 

Who invented the Polio Vaccine? 

 

This one takes me awhile. I can almost hear the stopwatch clicking. "Jonas Salk" I say suddenly. He didn't patent the vaccine I think stupidly. 

 

The projector clicks and I tense waiting for the next question, but the screen is white. She turns it off and the room gets dark. 

 

Ms. Collins doesn't acknowledge me. She's talling the questions. They weren't as hard as I remember them being last year. They're supposed to get harder. 

 

"Did I get them all?" I ask quietly. 

 

Ms. Collins doesn't look up from her clipboard. Her voice is sweet and calm when she answers me, "No one gets them all honey." 

 

"Did I get enough?" I ask again after a time. 

 

She clicks the pen and stands up. My hairs stand on end. She nods and quietly opens the door. The one behind her. Not the one where I came from. 

I should be ecstatic and I feel that way, but I don't show it. I thank her quietly and walk out. I cry for the first time that day. 

The room beyond the door isn't as crowded as it has been in years past. Some of the students have stayed behind to see if friends make it but most have gone home to see their families. To celebrate. I can't leave though. I need to wait for Sarah. 

I find a table and stare at the door. 66% I think. 

"I'll meet you on the other side." Sarah said right behind me and I believe her.

Time takes too long and my chest is sinking. The door opens finally. Its not Sarah.