“He learned them,” I say unapologetically.
“He credits you for his advanced reading as a kid. You were voracious but hated children’s books. You wanted to know about the world. Space. Biology. You were absolutely fascinated with the human body and how it worked when you were eight.”
I smile because, yeah, I remember that. I remember lying on my stomach on the floor of my room with a heavy textbook in front of me, pages spread wide open. I read slowly, sometimes struggling with words as I went. I had Myro’s tablet and constantly searched for definitions.
“I wonder if he’ll share my hunger for knowledge and science,” I muse as I look at Axl again.
Dad enters my office and stands beside me. He gently touches Axl’s fisted hand. Axl’s whole head shifts to look at my dad, but with him standing, there’s a good chance he only sees a dark blob.
“Sometimes, the love of learning is born into you, as was the case with you. Other times, it’s because someone teaches you to love it. As was the case with Myro. Once he began reading to you, his interest in learning increased. I’m not sure if it’s because he wanted to keep up with you or if you showed him that what he was learning in first grade was boring as hell and it gets more interesting later.”
“It doesn’t,” I muse. “The most interesting things I learned, I learned on my own by seeking out the subjects I was interested in.”
Dad nods slowly. “I know. I’ve been researching different curricula around the world. Of course, I have to follow the basics of the US education curriculum, which is a damn joke, but I think I can do that easily enough. I’m not looking for their funding or support. Only licensure, which means we need to have our kids reaching specific milestones each year. Pathetic milestones, if you ask me. The more I look at the curricula, the more I wish I’d have sent you all to boarding school for an actual education.”
“It wasn’t so bad,” I say. I’m not sure I say it convincingly, though. Come fifth grade, I was bored as fuck, and itdidn’tget better. I always felt the material was dumbed down for the level of the person in the room who struggled the most. That meant the rest of us were not onlynotchallenged but held back.
I don’t think that kid should have been left behind academically, but I also think that person was anyway. It’s not like they didn’t know they were the reason the class was moving so slow. It didn’t make them feel less singled out. It didn’t make them feel less stupid.
I’m not about segregation in schools. Certainly not how it looked in the past. But age isn’t what actually separates academic ability.
“The next generation of Van Dorens is going to learn shit. Real shit. How to identify a conman in politics as well as their damn alphabet,” Dad says.
I laugh. “I’m still waiting for the day you run for office.”
“Not a chance,” he says, shaking his head. “My concern is for my family. We’re left alone because our wealth is greater than that of the cultists running amok in this country. Yes, they hate that they can’t put pressure on me. I’m ready to take my entire family and the trillions of dollars I bring to this economy and leave the fucking country.”
“Bye, bitch,” I say.
He chuckles. “Exactly. You want to see spoiled grown men throw a fit—prove that they have no power over you. Speaking of which, I purchased an old farm in Wales. It’s close to where our family immigrated from.”
I shake my head. “That’s what, the third country you own land in outside of the US?”
“Third? Voss, I’m disappointed. It’s the eighth.”
I wince. “Shit. Can I blame baby brain?”
Dad looks at Axl with a smirk. “Sure. Speaking of the baby, I hired six nannies.”
My eyes widen. “Six? I asked for two.”
“Yes, well, I wanted someone available twenty-four seven, and they need days off, holidays, breaks, and shit so… this is what mathed correctly.”
I shake my head. “Thanks, Dad.”
“You’re not pressured to use any of them all the time. They’re there when you need them.”
“So what are they going to do when I don’t need them?”
“Axl has outgrown clothes he hasn’t worn. I’m guessing keeping the appropriate sized clothing in stock is a full-time job,” he notes.
I laugh. “For real.” I watch Dad stare at Axl for a minute. “Want to hold him? He’s about ready for his second morning snack.”
“I don’t want to interrupt your routine,” Dad says.
“I’m reading him scandalous articles. He can probably use the break.”
“At least you’re reading to him,” he says as I unbuckle him from his seat and then gesture for Dad to pick him up.
