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Nov. 6th, 2015 08:50 pmFry had been worried about going back to school. He likes school, but knowing that Mr Irons was going to change the seating arrangement has been a worry all half term. Mr Irons had seen his face when he told the class they were moving - most of them cheered - had smiled reassuringly, and told Fry he could come into the classroom ten minutes early to see what was what.
At ten minutes before the start of the day precisely, Fry goes into the classroom and looks around. There's a diagram on the board, and names on the desks; he looks at the diagram and then walks to the third row, the seat furthest to the left. It's the same side of the room he was on before, just one row back. But when he approaches the desk, it seems much more familiar than he expected; the desk itself is the same one, the grain of the wood that he tends to trace with his finger is the same, and when he looks inside he finds all his stuff is in there exactly as he left it.
There are no posters or pictures in Mr Irons' room, so he has no marker to line the desk up with other than the little tape marks Mr Irons puts on the floor, which show the kids where to put the tables back after they push the desks together for art work. This isn't just for Fry's benefit; having a wheelchair user in the classroom makes the distance between the desks important for safety, and Mr Irons has always been insistent that in any case it makes the classroom look tidy.
"What do you see?"
Fry looks up. Mr Irons is smiling reassuringly again, and continues.
"Do you know what an optical illusion is, Fry?"
Fry knows this one. "It's when things don't look like what they are."
"That's right. So answer me this question. Has your desk moved?"
"Yes." Fry says.
"Correct. But when?" Mr Irons asks.
Fry pauses. There's a trick here, somewhere. After a moment, his teacher takes pity on him.
"I learned something about your photographic memory; you use landmarks." Mr Irons says. "I have been moving your desks, and the marks, back two centimetres a day since the start of term. You are in exactly the same place as you were the day before half term, but quite a lot further back than you were at the start of term. I simply inserted another row of desks at the front after."
Fry blinks at him, taking this in.
"Why?" he asks eventually.
"Because I wanted to show you that change happens all the time." Mr Irons says. "And that most change is nothing to worry about. And that you can, over time, rewrite that memory of yours."
Fry sits at his desk. He's not sure what to make of that. Before he gets the chance to thank him, the rest of the class come charging in to look at the board. There are various groans and cheers.
"Mr IRONS, why am I at the front AGAIN?!" Bethany wails, looking like she's about to burst into tears.
"Because there are four rows and six half terms." Mr Irons says. "So some of you will have to sit at the front twice, and I thought you were doing so amazingly well at the front that you might as well do your second go now."
Bethany opens her mouth to object, then stops. Almost makes a point. And then she notices that she's got Ruby behind her, so at least she'll have someone on her art table she likes.
Teddy gets the back row seat behind Fry, giving him a grin on the way. Zack, who Fry doesn't talk to very often, goes next to Teddy. Fry looks around to see who is coming to sit next to him, and his face falls as Tommy strides up and sits in the next seat. He and Tommy have a history, and he expects Tommy to make a fuss, but actually Tommy gives him a grin too.
"Hey Fry. Guess what?"
"What?" Fry asks.
"Mr Irons says I'm not thick." Tommy says proudly. "And I'm not dyslexic either. I just needed reading glasses."
"Oh. Congratulations." Fry says. Maybe that's why Tommy doesn't feel like arguing with him today.
Mr Irons starts the class by briefly explaining that nobody will be switching seats and that they've all been put in a 'good learning spot' for them. He then moves quickly on to tell them about the class project they're going to do about what children did in school in the past. They get out their history books and start looking at some pictures of what schools looked like before the internet.
"Tommy."" Fry whispers. "You forgot your reading glasses"
"Well yeah, I don't want to look like a geek." Tommy whispers back, squinting at the page.
Fry blinks at him, and opens his mouth, and then shuts it. Maybe this one is one to let go.
At ten minutes before the start of the day precisely, Fry goes into the classroom and looks around. There's a diagram on the board, and names on the desks; he looks at the diagram and then walks to the third row, the seat furthest to the left. It's the same side of the room he was on before, just one row back. But when he approaches the desk, it seems much more familiar than he expected; the desk itself is the same one, the grain of the wood that he tends to trace with his finger is the same, and when he looks inside he finds all his stuff is in there exactly as he left it.
There are no posters or pictures in Mr Irons' room, so he has no marker to line the desk up with other than the little tape marks Mr Irons puts on the floor, which show the kids where to put the tables back after they push the desks together for art work. This isn't just for Fry's benefit; having a wheelchair user in the classroom makes the distance between the desks important for safety, and Mr Irons has always been insistent that in any case it makes the classroom look tidy.
"What do you see?"
Fry looks up. Mr Irons is smiling reassuringly again, and continues.
"Do you know what an optical illusion is, Fry?"
Fry knows this one. "It's when things don't look like what they are."
"That's right. So answer me this question. Has your desk moved?"
"Yes." Fry says.
"Correct. But when?" Mr Irons asks.
Fry pauses. There's a trick here, somewhere. After a moment, his teacher takes pity on him.
"I learned something about your photographic memory; you use landmarks." Mr Irons says. "I have been moving your desks, and the marks, back two centimetres a day since the start of term. You are in exactly the same place as you were the day before half term, but quite a lot further back than you were at the start of term. I simply inserted another row of desks at the front after."
Fry blinks at him, taking this in.
"Why?" he asks eventually.
"Because I wanted to show you that change happens all the time." Mr Irons says. "And that most change is nothing to worry about. And that you can, over time, rewrite that memory of yours."
Fry sits at his desk. He's not sure what to make of that. Before he gets the chance to thank him, the rest of the class come charging in to look at the board. There are various groans and cheers.
"Mr IRONS, why am I at the front AGAIN?!" Bethany wails, looking like she's about to burst into tears.
"Because there are four rows and six half terms." Mr Irons says. "So some of you will have to sit at the front twice, and I thought you were doing so amazingly well at the front that you might as well do your second go now."
Bethany opens her mouth to object, then stops. Almost makes a point. And then she notices that she's got Ruby behind her, so at least she'll have someone on her art table she likes.
Teddy gets the back row seat behind Fry, giving him a grin on the way. Zack, who Fry doesn't talk to very often, goes next to Teddy. Fry looks around to see who is coming to sit next to him, and his face falls as Tommy strides up and sits in the next seat. He and Tommy have a history, and he expects Tommy to make a fuss, but actually Tommy gives him a grin too.
"Hey Fry. Guess what?"
"What?" Fry asks.
"Mr Irons says I'm not thick." Tommy says proudly. "And I'm not dyslexic either. I just needed reading glasses."
"Oh. Congratulations." Fry says. Maybe that's why Tommy doesn't feel like arguing with him today.
Mr Irons starts the class by briefly explaining that nobody will be switching seats and that they've all been put in a 'good learning spot' for them. He then moves quickly on to tell them about the class project they're going to do about what children did in school in the past. They get out their history books and start looking at some pictures of what schools looked like before the internet.
"Tommy."" Fry whispers. "You forgot your reading glasses"
"Well yeah, I don't want to look like a geek." Tommy whispers back, squinting at the page.
Fry blinks at him, and opens his mouth, and then shuts it. Maybe this one is one to let go.
