Second Son

CHAPTER THREE

Reacher’s parents were side by side at the kitchen counter, studying a letter his mother had carried all the way from Guam. Reacher had seen the envelope. It was something to do with the education system. His mother said, “You and Joe have to take a test before you start school here.”

Reacher said, “Why?”

“Placement,” his father said. “They need to know how well you’re doing.”

“Tell them we’re doing fine. Tell them thanks, but no thanks.”

“For what?”

“I’m happy where I am. I don’t need to skip a grade. I’m sure Joe feels the same.”

“You think this is about skipping a grade?”

“Isn’t it?”

“No,” his father said. “It’s about holding you back a grade.”

“Why would they do that?”

“New policy,” his mother said. “You’ve had very fragmented schooling. They need to check you’re ready to advance.”

“They never did that before.”

“That’s why it’s called a new policy. As opposed to an old policy.”

“They want Joe to take a test? To prove he’s ready for the next grade? He’ll freak out.”

“He’ll do OK. He’s good with tests.”

“That’s not the point, mom. You know what he’s like. He’ll be insulted. So he’ll make himself score a hundred percent. Or a hundred and ten. He’ll drive himself nuts.”

“Nobody can score a hundred and ten percent. It’s not possible.”

“Exactly. His head will explode.”

“What about you?”

“Me? I’ll be OK.”

“Will you try hard?”

“What’s the pass mark?”

“Fifty percent, probably.”

“Then I’ll aim for fifty-one. No point wasting effort. When is it?”

“Three days from now. Before the semester starts.”

“Terrific,” Reacher said. “What kind of an education system doesn’t know the meaning of a simple word like vacation?”