Jackfruit

May took a deep breath and opened the door. Who knew what the principal of Jones Academy of Gifted Students would tell her now?

The secretary nodded at her. “Go on in, Miss May. Principal Jones has been waiting for you.”

The young teacher looked through the window over the secretary’s shoulder, where she saw the old, stately gentleman sitting at his dark mahogany desk, staring intently at a piece of paper in his hands. She gulped and gently knocked at the open door. “You asked to see me, sir?”

Principal Jones nodded at her and gently placed the paper in his hands on the stack on his desk. “Have a seat, Miss May. And please, close the door.”

She did as requested and sat on the chair across the elementary school principal. “Did anything happen, sir? Is this about yesterday’s incident with Pamela? I can explai-“

The man raised his hand to silent her. She watched as he slowly got up to close the blinds, then walk back to his seat. “No.” He stared at the paper he had been looking at before she came in. “Or, perhaps, it might just be.”

He picked up the paper and handed it to her. “Remember this? This is by Tommy of 1-B. Have a look.”

She did so, then shrugged. “I don’t see anything wrong here. It’s clearly the simple scribbles of a child! There’s nothing wrong with repeatedly writing the word ‘jackfruit’ on a piece of paper, surely?”

Jones looked at her, with a seriousness she only ever saw in him when she was summoned for a conference with a particularly naughty student. “Miss May… There’s nothing on it at all. It’s blank.”

She double backed, looking over the paper and seeing only the chicken scratch-like writing on it. “What?”

“I’ve shown this to the other teachers, and we can all agree that there’s nothing at all written on this paper. I do not know if there’s something in invisible ink here that we cannot see, but it’s very clearly blank to us, Miss May.”

May leaned back, the paper still in her hands. She could not take her eyes away from the dark “jackfruit” written oh so clearly on the page.

The principal pushed another student assignment her way. “And remember this? Isaac, 2-A. You remarked, ‘Such a creative underwater city!'” He saw her stare at the new piece, her eyebrows knit together in concentration. “All it has on it is the phrase ‘The End’.”

He opened a drawer and produced a folder. He spread out its contents, showing off different assignments by different students, all of them bearing May’s remarks. “Yes, you have marked all of these the same way, seeing things nobody else seems to see, Miss May.”

The young woman leaned back. “I don’t know what to say, sir. It’s what I see. Do you…” She looked up at the principal, whose eyes were steadily concentrated on hers. She quickly looked back down. “Do you believe that there is something wrong with me? Am I… Am I going to be fired?”

Jones turned away from her, looking out the window that showed the school grounds. It was recess time, and the children were running to the playground. “No, Miss May. You see, the students whose work you have so interpreted turned out to be… special, in their own right. As a matter of fact, you seem to have a particular gift in finding them out.”

The tick of the clock echoed in the room, waiting for one of them to break the silence.

The principal looked back at May. Her head was bowed, and he could see that she was trembling. He took a deep breath. “The children whose work you’ve so decoded turned out to be – out of lack of a better term – aliens.” He saw her bite her lip at this, but she said nothing. He continued. “Extraterrestrial species who have, apparently, mingled so well with the humans on Earth. But you, Miss May, you have discovered a way to find them out, through your simple deciphering of their homework.”

He sighed. “There is a reason we established the Jones Academy for Gifted Students, Miss May, and it was not just because we believed that we are a… what does it say in the brochure? A ‘specialized center for developing your child’s hidden potential’. Yes, that’s right.” He laughed at this, but stopped soon when she did not join in. He coughed.

“While the board may have carefully crafted the curriculum in order for the school to nurture such talent, we also study our students and look into what makes them so special. You, Miss May,” he looked at her, but still, she stared at the floor. “You have a special gift yourself, even if you don’t realize it.”

At this, May looked up, tears falling from her eyes. “But I’m just a teacher, Jones! I don’t know anything about extraterrestrials! I’m here to teach kids who are different and couldn’t fit in in a normal elementary!”

She sobbed louder. A small smile appeared on Jones’s face, and he brought out a box of tissues for the teacher.

“I understand, Miss May, but now that you have proven to have a talent for decoding our students’ assignments, it is imperative that you learn all of this. There is also something more.” He opened a drawer in his desk. He took out a manila envelope and placed it before the young woman, who was now wiping away her tears.

Jones cleared his throat. “I would like to inform you that you have been reassigned, Miss May. Starting tomorrow, you will be designated the role of ‘Extraterrestrial Interpreter’ and you will report directly to me. You may review the terms as stated in the contract inside.”

She took up the envelope in her trembling hands. “Does that mean that I won’t be a teacher anymore?” Her voice was small and muffled.

“You will still have your students, but we may lessen your classes as we may be needing you to do other work for us instead. So you’ll still have your teaching duties, yes.”

May bit her lip again, and tears welled up once more in the corner of her eyes.

The man laid a hand on hers, and smiled. “I know this is a lot to take in. What about you take the rest of the day off and we’ll take this up again first thing tomorrow?”

May looked at him, then the envelope, then back at him. She nodded slowly and got up, turning to the door.

“Oh, and Miss May?”

She turned to see that the principal was still smiling at her. “Fulfillment of this position is mandatory.”

She stiffened, her hands closing in on the envelope in her hands. She wiped away the last of her tears and exited the room.

Jones picked up Tommy’s worksheet once more and looked it over. “Jackfruit,” he murmured repeatedly. “What in the world is jackfruit anyway?”

He shook his head, took up his jacket, and locked the door on the way out.

–
Image source: deviantart.com/bliss-imaging/art/crayons-resized-for-wallpapers-35447484
First written January 14, 2018.
#106