“Why, that is a magnificent talent!” Ammu exclaimed, and Kaitlyn beamed with pride. “And when you fix these things, do you find that you have a special talent for reading their manuals as well? Do the diagrams make sense to you?”
“I don’t really use manuals,” Kaitlyn admitted. “I take things apart, and then I can just kind of see how they’re supposed to work. Maybe there’s a wire that isn’t connected right, or maybe a gear has worn down so it isn’t catching anymore, and then I know that’s why it isn’t working. I fix the wire or put in a new gear or whatever, and then it works again.”
“So if I brought you something broken, Kaitlyn,” Ammu asked, “could you show me how you would fix it?”
“Sure! But I’d need a workshop. You know, with tools and parts and things. I mean, sometimes I just need the right screwdriver. But other times I might have to scrounge a new part from the stuff I have lying around.”
“Hmm, yes. Yes, I see.” Ammu pulled a yellow pad of paper from a stack of them that sat beneath his folder, and he withdrew a pen from a small, white carton. He handed these to Kaitlyn, who took them and then watched him expectantly.
“While I speak with the other students this morning,” he said, “would you make a list of the things you would expect to find in a well-appointed workshop? Start with the essentials, and then move on to things you might not use as often but would still prefer to have, if you could. OK?”
“OK!” Kaitlyn licked her lips and wrote ‘WORKSHOP’ in capital letters across the top of the page. Grinning, she began to scribble furiously.
“So then.” Ammu looked back and forth between the remaining two girls. “Which of you is Mackenzie Gray?”
“That’s me,” Mackenzie said. She remembered Sam’s comment at the airport and tried to sound more casual this time.
“Excellent! I am very pleased to meet you, Mackenzie.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Please, you do not need to call me ‘sir.’ Ammu is quite fine with me.”
“Yes, s— I mean… OK, Ammu.”
“And are you aware of any special gifts you might have developed, Mackenzie?”
“Well, I don’t know whether this counts, but I’m pretty into Muay Thai.”
“Just about anything can be a pathway of communication between the conscious and unconscious minds. But Muay Thai is not something with which I am familiar. Could you tell me about it?”
“Sure!” Mackenzie said, already warming up to the topic. “Muay Thai is a martial art. You know, like Karate or Jujitsu. But it’s really fast. You use your hands and feet and knees and elbows as weapons, so there’s a lot of striking. I’ve studied some Taekwondo also, and some Brazilian Jujitsu, but I use Muay Thai more. I like it because most Muay Thai schools focus on actual sparring, and I like to compete.”
“That is very impressive!” Ammu said, and Mackenzie smiled. “Do you go to competitions often?”
“Definitely. I try to go to one at least every three to four weeks. Sometimes they’re small, you know, but it’s still a competition.”
“And I take it you win often?”
“I do OK,” Mackenzie said, shrugging a little.
Ammu regarded her for a long moment before replying.
“Please, everyone,” he finally said, looking around the room. When Kaitlyn kept scribbling on her pad, Sam nudged her a little with an elbow.
“Huh?” she said, looking up in surprise. “Oh, sorry.”
“Thank you. Please, everyone, this is very important. It is admirable not to want to appear boastful in front of your peers. I understand that, certainly. But this is not the time for modesty. What each of you can do is already extraordinary, and I expect your abilities only to grow with time. If I ask you whether you have excelled in a given area, please do not minimize your success.
“If you genuinely feel that you are only doing ‘OK,’ as you say, then it is perfectly acceptable to say so, but if the truth is more impressive, please be honest. We are here to explore your talents, and to make them stronger. Now is not the time to blend in with the crowd. This summer is about standing out. If anything, you are expected to stand out, each in his or her own way. Do you understand?”
Everyone nodded, even Rush. His nod was perfunctory, at best, but at least he acknowledged the request.
“Thank you. So, Mackenzie, do you win a lot?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “I take first place almost every time. The only times I don’t win are when I’m not feeling well, or when I’m upset about something else that disrupts my attention.”
“And can you show me something? What this sport looks like?”
“It doesn’t really look like much without someone to fight. I mean, anyone can throw a kick in the air. It’s landing it on a moving target that matters.”
“Yes, I see,” Ammu said, nodding thoughtfully. “And I suspect that fighting a beginner would not be much of a showcase for your talent either, correct?”
Mackenzie chuckled a little. “No, it wouldn’t,” she admitted.
“All right, then. We will see if we can come up with a sparring partner for you. Thank you, Mackenzie.”
“You’re welcome,” Mackenzie replied politely.
Ammu wrote something down on a yellow pad of his own and then glanced into the folder again.
“Daniel Walker?” he asked.
Daniel raised his hand.
“Good morning, Daniel.”
“Good morning,” Daniel replied.
“And what about you?” Ammu asked. “What particular interests have captured your attention?”
Daniel shrugged. “I like music,” he said quietly.
“Go on,” Ammu prompted. “In what way do you enjoy music? Do you listen to it? Do you play an instrument? Do you sing?”
“All of those, really,” Daniel admitted. “But I don’t sing much.”
“Ha! Don’t listen to him, Ammu. He sings plenty,” Rush interjected, grinning wickedly.
“Oh?” Ammu asked. “So, Daniel, you have shared your talent with your new friends already? How wonderful!”
“Oh, he shared it all right,” Rush said. “Shared and shared and shared, didn’t he, Sketch?” Roman giggled on cue. “Heck, Mister Stayin’ Alive over here won’t stop singing.”
“That is quite enough now, Mr….” Ammu held up one hand, but he did not yet know Rush’s name.
“Knock it off, Rush,” Mackenzie said at the same time, glaring at him over Roman’s head.
“He’s ‘Mr. Hunt’ in your file,” Sam offered.
“My name is ‘Rush,’” Rush snapped at Sam.
“Yeah, yeah,” Sam said, rolling her eyes. “I just said ‘in the file.’ He’s trying to figure out which one you are, genius.”
“Please, children. That is enough,” Ammu said, interjecting again.
“We’re not children,” Sam muttered under her breath.