Butterfield pointed at me and asked Mrs. Bakkley, "This is the student you are talking about? Him?" I definitely got a warm and fuzzy feeling.
"Why don't we all sit down.", she replied. She led the way into a teacher's conference room. We all took seats around the table.
"This is your meeting.", he replied. "I think it's a mistake, myself.", he added nastily.
My parents were thoroughly confused now, but getting angry. Mrs. Bakkley took on the lead role. Turning to me, she asked, "Did you explain your plan to your parents?"
"No, I just said the meeting was about taking some advanced classes. Nothing else."
She nodded and turned to my folks. "Let me start off with an explanation. Last week Carl came to me with the suggestion that he take both Algebra 1 and 2 this year, to, in effect, squeeze two years of math in. When I asked why, his response was that it would allow him to take Geometry next year, which is normally a high school course. That's why I brought Mrs. Rogers over from Towson High. She is a math teacher there." Mrs. Rogers said hello.
This was all very confusing to my parents. They tried to ask me what was going on and what I was up to, but they were interrupting each other. Finally Mrs. Bakkley stopped them. "Let me finish. My first reaction was like yours, that this was a crazy idea, but I talked to Carl about it and he seemed sincere. So I made him a bet. I would give him a midterm test for Algebra 1, a test I wouldn't normally give for another two months. It was a one time deal, take it or leave it. He passes the test and I see what I can do for him. He flunks and he forgets the whole thing."
She took a deep breath as my parents stared at us. "He got a 97. Half the material on the test I haven't even covered in class. I think I could have given him the final from the end of the year and he would have passed that as well. I suspect he is a mathematical prodigy of some sort."
Finally my mother looked at me with something akin to pride. It made me a little disgusted, to be fair about it, that she would only be satisfied if I was some sort of genius. Like I said, great person, crappy parent.
My father eyed me curiously. "So what is your idea here? You want to skip a grade or something? Start high school next year?"
I had anticipated this. I shook my head. "No, not really. If you think I've had problems with bullies this year, wait until I'm still thirteen and the smallest kid in the entire high school. No, my thought is to skip some time on the math classes. If I can do geometry next year, I can take some of the other classes early when I get to Towson High." I named a few of the advanced classes available.
"So what happens when you finish those? Do you plan to graduate early?"
I just shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know yet. That's a possibility."
The others all looked at me. My parents stared at me like I had grown a second head, Mrs. Bakkley like I was a new toy to play with, and Mrs. Rogers like a potential science experiment. Mr. Butterfield was the worst. He looked at me in contemptuous disdain. "What could possibly make you think you can do any of that?", he asked.
I returned his haughty look. "Because unlike you, I understand the meaning of the phrase '99.9th percentile'. I know what my IQ is, and I suspect it is considerably higher than yours." As soon as I said it, I knew I had overstepped the bounds. "I apologize, that was rude of me."
"How dare you! I absolutely forbid this! This meeting is over!", he yelled. "Get out!"
I stayed seated. "On what grounds? An inability to perform the course work? That is something which can be tested for, and failure to allow me to do this will only result in a legal challenge to the school board which you will most certainly lose. I have my lawyer's card in my wallet. Should I call him?"
The reminder of my lawyer caused him to sputter incoherently. He turned to Mrs. Rogers and said, "This boy is nothing but a troublemaker! You should have nothing to do with him!"
She eyed me closely. She asked me, "In his day, the physics establishment considered Einstein a troublemaker, also. Are you a good troublemaker or a bad one?"
"Probably both, but I don't presume to think of myself as an Einstein. That would be presumptuous even for me.", I said with a smile.
"Your teacher told me about your difficulties last week. I would be willing to work with you despite that."
"Towson High will go along?"
She nodded. "It wouldn't be the first time. We usually have a few students who have moved forward, and a few who end up taking classes their senior year over at Towson State. You have to mean it, though. The school will want you to do your best, but more importantly, so will I. I need a personal commitment from you, not your parents."
"Done!" I held out my hand to her.
"Agreed, then." She shook my hand. "I will be talking to you near the end of the year, to figure out our arrangements. Until then, Mrs. Bakkley will give you both years of Algebra, and monitor you in Geometry next year."
She stood up. "My part in this is over. Carl, if you don't give us one hundred percent, we'll know it and the cooperation will end. If you do give us that one hundred percent, I promise we will, too." She shook hands with my stunned parents and left.
Mr. Butterfield sputtered some more, but in the end agreed. Mentioning the lawyer had broken his spirit. Mrs. Bakkley told us she would develop a lesson plan to speed me along, and we left. Just like that I was on the road to a doctorate in mathematics.
It was a quiet ride home, but I could almost hear the wheels grinding in my parent's heads. Once inside, they dragged me into their bedroom. "So, is that what you want to do? Become a mathematician?", asked my father.
"I think so.", I agreed. "I've been thinking about it since the beginning of the school year, actually. I guess I just got bored."
"Well, what would you do? What do math people do? Do you want to become a school teacher?", asked Mom.
Dad and I just stared at her for a moment. Mom's actually fairly bright, but she's never been to college and she met Dad a couple of years after he got out. She simply doesn't know what college is like. "Well, Mom, I might be able to get a job at the University of Pennsylvania teaching mechanical engineers how to do calculus.", I said blandly. That got a laughing snort out of my father, since that was his degree and college.
"Very funny, smarty-pants. I'm serious!"
I shrugged. "Lots of things, Mom. Even leaving aside teaching at the college level, maybe computers. That's all math."
"Isn't that electrical engineering?", asked Dad.
"Well, maybe back in the dawn of time, you know, the Forties. It was run by dinosaurs, I heard." The first electronic computer, ENIAC, had been built at the University of Pennsylvania back when Dad had been going there.
He made a rude gesture to me, eliciting a sharp rebuke of "Charlie!" from Mom. To me she said, "Don't encourage him. What about what they asked? Do you want to graduate early?"
"Mom, I just don't know yet. Maybe, but maybe not. If I go to school my senior year over at Towson State, who picks up the bill? I bet Towson High pays! I bet I can get a free year or more of college out of them."
That got them both thinking. College wasn't cheap, and at their income level, was going to result in a hefty chunk of change, even figuring in scholarships or loans. Dad asked the next question. "What did you mean by you knew what the 99.9th percentile was. What do you think it means?"