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Oct. 9th, 2016 08:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fry_sandhuAt the end of the week, the kids presented their Mystery Capsules back to Miss Havisham. She got them each to guess what was in it on a piece of paper, then opened them all.
"Disappointing." she says, when she gets to Bethany's.
"How did she know?" Bethany's friend Sophie whispers to her.
Miss Havisham continues around the class, then turns to them.
"I'm glad to see that nobody else opened their capsule when I put you on your honour not to." she says. "Who knows what the object of the exercise was?"
Noah puts his hand up.
"Yes, Noah."
"You didn't want us to be able to guess what was in the capsule, you wanted to teach us what honour was."
"Correct." Miss Havisham says. Seeing another raised hand. "Yes Bradley?"
"I opened the capsule." Bradley says, casually.
Everyone turns round and looks at him, but he shrugs.
"You just told us we were on our honour, but you never actually asked us to swear to it, so we had no choice. It's my honour, so I should get to choose whether to swear to it or not." he says. "There's no big secret. These little black tubes are old film canisters from when people had film cameras. And what comes in those? Films. You put a little square of film in each one with the item. And old film changes colour when it sees the light. So I opened mine in the dark."
The class holds their breath, waiting for an outburst. Miss Havisham pushes her glasses up her nose.
"Bradley, you make a valid point about honour." she says. "You don't get the credit for working out your object, but I award you one instead for putting time and thought into the project." She looks around the class. "Of course you are also correct about the photography film. I would ask that you all keep it to yourselves. A magician should never reveal how a trick is done."
"Close shave." Noah says to Bradley as they start their art lesson, which today involves sewing three buttons on a felt gingerbread man.
"She annoys me." Bradley mutters back, but with less annoyance than usual. "Seriously, why do we have to do sewing?"
Noah looks around the room. Apart from himself, and Pixie, nobody else so far has even managed to thread the needle.
"How does she expect me to do this one handed anyway?" Bradley complains. "I can't hold a needle or thread in my left."
"Miss Havisham's aunt can only use one hand." Fry chips in, from the other side of Pixie. "Because she had a stroke."
"How do you know that?" Bradley asks.
"That's why she retired." Fry says. "It's in the survival guide."
"Sewing's for girls anyway." Bradley says. Then, noting Noah is on his second button: "Noah, seriously, you are freaking me out, how do you know how to do that?"
"I'm not allowed to watch TV after 6pm." Noah says. "Mum's making an alter cloth and my big sister has left home so sometimes she asks me to tack the rough pieces."
"Ugh, weird. Pixie, can you do this for me please?" Bradley asks, gesturing to the needle and thread.
Pixie picks up her eraser, and hands it over to him. Bradley stares at it.
"What's that for?" he asks.
"Stick the needle in it with your right hand so it stands on its own." Pixie says. "Then stick the threading aid through it and balance that on your left hand, then put the thread in."
"Huh, that's clever." Bradley admits, a minute later, when his needle is threaded. "Thanks."
Miss Havisham moves around at this point, makes a noise of approval, then offers Bradley a peg to hold his button steady.
At the end of the class, Miss Havisham addresses them again.
"I want you all to prepare, for next week, a short talk about a hobby, interest or collection of yours that does not involve an electronic device. You may bring props. You should prepare to speak about it for two minutes.
Fry glaces at Pixie, who is staring at Miss Havisham in horror (which Fry recognises now by her going very red), then on his other side to Xiao. He still hasn't been able to confront her about whether she lied to him. She sighs slightly.
"I have no time for this stuff." she whispers.
"Why?" Fry asks, suddenly suspicious. Is she working her way through those last extra credit assignments without him? Is he going to suddenly find he's lost his neck-and-neck position with her on the board?
"I want to know the truth." He blurts out suddenly, albeit in a whisper, before she can answer.
She looks at him.
"About what?" she whispers back.
"About why you came to join my class." Fry says. The bell goes before they can get told off for talking, and they start to pack away their things. "I know it's not because you had no friends."
"You're right that I lied." Xiao says after a moment. "But my dad made me promise not to tell yet. I'll tell you as soon as I can."
She gathers her things quickly and heads out of the classroom. In the corridor, she almost collides with Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald, the substitute teacher taking Year 5.
"Oh, hey Xiao." Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald says. "I've been trying to catch you for a while."
"Oh?" Xiao asks casually.
The teacher scratches his head slightly, his long hair dangling untidily around his face.
"Yeah. I think you should come back into my Year 5 class. You were originally skipped ahead for a reason, Xiao, you're a very bright girl."
Xiao looks up at him, trying to hide her alarm. "No."
"Yes." Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald says. "Your little friend with the fuzzy hair came and asked me for the past papers for a 'friend'. I know you're taking the Oaking Gifted and Talented Program exam. I'm leading the group that meets at lunchtime to prepare for it, if you're going to do this, then come and join us."
Xiao looks taken aback. Then shakes her head.
"No, thank you, I want to stay in Year 4."
The teacher watches her, then sighs.
"Look." He says. "You told a fib about why you wanted to leave my class because you didn't believe in me, right? You didn't think I could get you through the Oaking exam, because I'm not 'traditional' and I have a funny name and I wear sandals and you thought I was a bit of a hippy?"
Xiao hesitates. It's hard to answer to such a direct question.
Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald turns and walks away.
"I was in the Oaking Gifted and Talented program, Xiao. Come to my lunchtime group, and never judge a man by his shoes."
"Disappointing." she says, when she gets to Bethany's.
"How did she know?" Bethany's friend Sophie whispers to her.
Miss Havisham continues around the class, then turns to them.
"I'm glad to see that nobody else opened their capsule when I put you on your honour not to." she says. "Who knows what the object of the exercise was?"
Noah puts his hand up.
"Yes, Noah."
"You didn't want us to be able to guess what was in the capsule, you wanted to teach us what honour was."
"Correct." Miss Havisham says. Seeing another raised hand. "Yes Bradley?"
"I opened the capsule." Bradley says, casually.
Everyone turns round and looks at him, but he shrugs.
"You just told us we were on our honour, but you never actually asked us to swear to it, so we had no choice. It's my honour, so I should get to choose whether to swear to it or not." he says. "There's no big secret. These little black tubes are old film canisters from when people had film cameras. And what comes in those? Films. You put a little square of film in each one with the item. And old film changes colour when it sees the light. So I opened mine in the dark."
The class holds their breath, waiting for an outburst. Miss Havisham pushes her glasses up her nose.
"Bradley, you make a valid point about honour." she says. "You don't get the credit for working out your object, but I award you one instead for putting time and thought into the project." She looks around the class. "Of course you are also correct about the photography film. I would ask that you all keep it to yourselves. A magician should never reveal how a trick is done."
"Close shave." Noah says to Bradley as they start their art lesson, which today involves sewing three buttons on a felt gingerbread man.
"She annoys me." Bradley mutters back, but with less annoyance than usual. "Seriously, why do we have to do sewing?"
Noah looks around the room. Apart from himself, and Pixie, nobody else so far has even managed to thread the needle.
"How does she expect me to do this one handed anyway?" Bradley complains. "I can't hold a needle or thread in my left."
"Miss Havisham's aunt can only use one hand." Fry chips in, from the other side of Pixie. "Because she had a stroke."
"How do you know that?" Bradley asks.
"That's why she retired." Fry says. "It's in the survival guide."
"Sewing's for girls anyway." Bradley says. Then, noting Noah is on his second button: "Noah, seriously, you are freaking me out, how do you know how to do that?"
"I'm not allowed to watch TV after 6pm." Noah says. "Mum's making an alter cloth and my big sister has left home so sometimes she asks me to tack the rough pieces."
"Ugh, weird. Pixie, can you do this for me please?" Bradley asks, gesturing to the needle and thread.
Pixie picks up her eraser, and hands it over to him. Bradley stares at it.
"What's that for?" he asks.
"Stick the needle in it with your right hand so it stands on its own." Pixie says. "Then stick the threading aid through it and balance that on your left hand, then put the thread in."
"Huh, that's clever." Bradley admits, a minute later, when his needle is threaded. "Thanks."
Miss Havisham moves around at this point, makes a noise of approval, then offers Bradley a peg to hold his button steady.
At the end of the class, Miss Havisham addresses them again.
"I want you all to prepare, for next week, a short talk about a hobby, interest or collection of yours that does not involve an electronic device. You may bring props. You should prepare to speak about it for two minutes.
Fry glaces at Pixie, who is staring at Miss Havisham in horror (which Fry recognises now by her going very red), then on his other side to Xiao. He still hasn't been able to confront her about whether she lied to him. She sighs slightly.
"I have no time for this stuff." she whispers.
"Why?" Fry asks, suddenly suspicious. Is she working her way through those last extra credit assignments without him? Is he going to suddenly find he's lost his neck-and-neck position with her on the board?
"I want to know the truth." He blurts out suddenly, albeit in a whisper, before she can answer.
She looks at him.
"About what?" she whispers back.
"About why you came to join my class." Fry says. The bell goes before they can get told off for talking, and they start to pack away their things. "I know it's not because you had no friends."
"You're right that I lied." Xiao says after a moment. "But my dad made me promise not to tell yet. I'll tell you as soon as I can."
She gathers her things quickly and heads out of the classroom. In the corridor, she almost collides with Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald, the substitute teacher taking Year 5.
"Oh, hey Xiao." Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald says. "I've been trying to catch you for a while."
"Oh?" Xiao asks casually.
The teacher scratches his head slightly, his long hair dangling untidily around his face.
"Yeah. I think you should come back into my Year 5 class. You were originally skipped ahead for a reason, Xiao, you're a very bright girl."
Xiao looks up at him, trying to hide her alarm. "No."
"Yes." Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald says. "Your little friend with the fuzzy hair came and asked me for the past papers for a 'friend'. I know you're taking the Oaking Gifted and Talented Program exam. I'm leading the group that meets at lunchtime to prepare for it, if you're going to do this, then come and join us."
Xiao looks taken aback. Then shakes her head.
"No, thank you, I want to stay in Year 4."
The teacher watches her, then sighs.
"Look." He says. "You told a fib about why you wanted to leave my class because you didn't believe in me, right? You didn't think I could get you through the Oaking exam, because I'm not 'traditional' and I have a funny name and I wear sandals and you thought I was a bit of a hippy?"
Xiao hesitates. It's hard to answer to such a direct question.
Mr Magnesium-Fitzgerald turns and walks away.
"I was in the Oaking Gifted and Talented program, Xiao. Come to my lunchtime group, and never judge a man by his shoes."
