Read Probable Impossibilities Page 5


  Chapter 4

  The next morning I struggled to rise out of bed and get moving. Gen had already left for school when I finally stepped outside. The solitary walk gave me time to reconsider how to redeem myself, but I still didn’t have a good plan when I arrived.

  It didn’t matter. Gen was surrounded by the crowd of giggling girls. She wouldn't even make eye contact. Then I was weaving through the crowd taking a path calculated to avoid Doug and Josh.

  Somehow Gen made it in to science class ahead of me and was hunched over her phone as the bell rang. Glancing up she caught sight of me. The hint of a smirk touched her lips. Her eyes slid away and she slipped the phone into her pocket. I took my seat.

  Bertram wasted no time in getting into his subject. “What is the probability that pre-Columbian Europeans discovered South America? What facts do we know that would support such a supposition?” We looked at him blankly. He tried again. “If ancient Europeans were there, what evidence did they leave behind?”

  “Footprints?” Doug suggested.

  “Litter,” Josh added.

  Elroy snickered. “Take nothing but sketch-eous, leave nothing but footprint-eous.”

  “Thank you for that attempt at Latin humor, Elroy,” Bertram said, “but Josh is correct. A civilization’s trash can give us many clues to their origin and lifestyles.”

  The footprints I was interested in tracing at the moment belonged to Bigfoot. I stole a glance at Gen. Her smile remained, but she refused to look my way. Her suppressed emotion was almost tangible.

  It was like the time she knew I was getting a bike for my birthday and had promised not to tell. If we weren't in class I was sure she would be singing I know something you don't know.

  I drew a big question mark on a sheet of paper and slid it across to her. Trembling slightly with laughter, she drew a big explanation point and passed it back. What was that supposed to mean? I crumpled it in my hand.

  Bertram cleared his throat bringing me back to the uncomfortable awareness of the classroom. He held out his hand. My face burned as I dropped the crumpled ball onto his palm. Titters and giggles swept around the room.

  The paper rattled and rustled as he took his time unfolding it. The room became quiet with morbid anticipation as he stared at the paper with raised eyebrows.

  “A question mark?” he asked. There was a disappointed sigh from the corner where Doug and Josh hung out. “Puzzled by today's subject are we?” He tugged at his mustache. “Perhaps a little extra study will help clarify.” His eyes met mine. “You can pick an animal, a plant, or even an insect that is native to South America and write a 500 word report on it.”

  The soft hissing of “Yesss” came from Doug's corner. It died instantly when Bertram marched to the front of the room. “I believe I detect enthusiasm for Cody's assignment. Very well. I don't want anyone to feel left out. Each of you can join in the assignment. Reports are due in one week.”

  The bell rang. Chairs scraped. Voices rose in a clamor. Everyone seemed to go out of their way to pass by my desk muttering their disgust.

  “Thanks for nothing.” A hand darted out and my notebook skidded across the desk. I grabbed for it, but was shouldered aside. It fell to the floor with a dull splat.

  “Next time talk to your girlfriend after class.” A large foot stepped on the notebook covering the corner with a dirty tread mark.

  “Way to go, Cody,” was punctuated by a shove in my back.

  “Meet me after school.”

  I looked up startled. Gen handed me my notebook and repeated, “Meet me after school. Got something to show you.”

  Then she was gone along with everyone else. Bertram sat at his desk. His bright blue eyes watched me from behind his laptop.

  “You have potential, Cody. A scientist requires a questioning mind, but also direction. Consider one of these for your assignment.” He held out a paper. His large mustache moved in what I hoped was a smile. It was hard to see his mouth under that hair. I guess the mustache was so large because his head was so bald.

  “Thanks.” I stuffed the paper into my pocket and dashed out. Only a few other stragglers roamed the halls. If I didn't make the next class on time I could say Mr. Bertram made me late. His name intimidated all of the students and many of the teachers.