Success
by Doug Batson
“Honey?”
My mom. She knocks gently on my door, which, since it isn’t all the way closed, swings open. I don’t shut my door for privacy anymore – I don’t have anything to be ashamed of. If my door is ever closed nowadays, it’s because I need it to be quiet so I can do my homework.
My mom steps into my room. She’s looking at the floor as she does it, how she always does when she’s looking for trash on the floor. She’s looking for something to give her an excuse to be in here – an excuse to talk with me. I used to get nervous anytime she wanted to talk seriously to me, even if it was something harmless like: “Your sister is feeling down, can you make some tea for your sister?”
“It’s clean in here,” she says with her eyebrows raised. Apparently she will not be able to find some dirty sock on the floor to kick around until she feels its right to say what she came here to say.
“Yes.” The chair I’m sitting in is adjacent to my bed, so that when she sits down on the mattress with a scrunching sound, I’m looking at the wall in front of me and she’s looking at the side of my head.
She pauses just a second longer. “I talked to your teachers today,” she says.
At this I look up. “Really? What did they say? Am I behind? Did I not do so well on the math test?”
“Honey, you’re fine. Relax. Reza said you did fine on the math test. He said you’ve made enormous progress this term, and that he’s really, really been amazed by your work ethic. You got the top grade in the class. Even better than Rachel.”
“She’s been kind of slacking this term,” I say, “that’s probably why.”
“Rachel got 97%. Don’t tell anyone you know that, because I don’t think Reza was even supposed to tell me, but…”
“What about my other teachers?”
My mom shakes her head. “They all said you’re doing fine. You’re top in your class in Spanish, math, and science and Ian said the only reason you’re not the top student in Government is because you flunked that one test really early -on in the term.”
I wince. It was the test she had yelled at me about until she had gotten a sore throat; the test she was sure would make it impossible that I would get into college. The test that had made me – once a kid with report cards that was full of Bs and As (but mostly Bs), no slouch – reform into something perfect.
“You have no reason to beat yourself up about this. Ian and Harrison both nominated you for student of the month.”
“It’s a start,” I say. “But if I don’t keep it up, I’ll drop back down to an A-.”
“Honey, I’m worried about you.”
“Why? You shouldn’t be, I’ll probably ace the test; I’ve been studying for two weeks now and I’ve done all the study guides three times and some even four – ”
“Last week you didn’t do a single thing besides homework. You were up in your room all day, doing worksheets and extra-credit. I barely even saw you. And it was the same the week before.”
“I’ve got a lot of homework,” I say.
“No – no you don’t! That’s why I went to talk to your teachers today in the first place, to ask them if they could maybe lower the homework load, because it’s really been bothering me that you haven’t done anything with friends or family or anyone for three weeks! And every teacher I talked to basically said they’ve been giving out even less homework than usual. Harrison says he hasn’t given you a science assignment since last Tuesday, and that was due on the next day, so you’ve had nothing from him for a week – ”
“I’ve been reading ahead. You and dad both said I should read the textbook assignments a few days before we go over them in class.’
“He said he only assigned twenty pages this whole week.”
“I’ve read it a couple of times. I don’t want to get left behind and have no idea what we’re talking about in class, mom.”
“And all those math assignments you’ve been doing, Reza said those were optional and just practice exercises – ”
“Practice makes perfect.”
“Stop it! Stop it! God, what has gotten into you lately? Why are you acting so different?”
“Because I have to get good grades so I can get scholarships to go to a good college so I can get a good job and be successful, that’s why,” I say, chuckling a little at the obviousness of it all.
“This isn’t you! Why are you doing this?”
“Look, mom, I really have to give my Government study guides another look over – ”
“Why are you doing this to me? God, I just don’t know why you’re doing this to me!” She’s crying now.
“Mom, mom, please,” I say, “I really have to get to work. Could we talk about this later?”
Her sniffles are her only response. Finally, mouth quivering, red eyes leaking, she pushes herself up from my bed, waves me off, and goes to the door.
“Could you close it on your way out?” I ask her politely.
And of course she doesn’t, so I have to take all my textbooks and notebooks off my lap and go do it myself. And of course I’m grinning, because now I can finally drop this act – because now I have won.
