“Listen to me, please,” Ammu continued. “I know you have only just met each other, but it is critical that you try to get along. You will be working very closely together this summer. Very closely. Although I do not wish our meetings to be formal, I would ask nonetheless that you not interrupt each other, that you respect one another, no matter how you might be feeling in the moment. Daniel, please continue. Tell me about your musical ability.”
Daniel didn’t say anything, looking first at Rush and then down at his hands in embarrassment. At least Rush hadn’t said anything about the love songs, but still, he was mortified. As the pause dragged on, Kaitlyn reached out and placed one hesitant hand on his knee for encouragement. Daniel looked up in surprise and then smiled just a little. She patted his knee and withdrew her hand, but it had been what he needed.
“I have perfect pitch,” he said quietly, looking back down at his hands. “If you play me any note, I can tell you what it is, just from hearing it. I like a lot of instruments, but guitars are my favorite. And I do sing a little, but I really don’t like singing in front of people.” He glanced over at Rush, still embarrassed. “I just get carried away sometimes.”
“I’d like to hear you sing,” Kaitlyn said quietly, and she smiled at him, which made him blush.
“As would I,” Ammu agreed. “But if you are more comfortable, Daniel, we can start, perhaps, with some guitar music? If you brought such an instrument with you?”
Daniel nodded.
“Excellent! Then will you please bring it to our afternoon session? I would love to hear you play and perhaps engage in some simple exercises.”
“OK,” Daniel agreed, but inside he was horrified. Kaitlyn was smiling at him, and Daniel wasn’t sure whether that made him feel better or worse. There was a part of him that wouldn’t mind playing for her, at least a little, but not like this, not in front of everyone, especially not with Rush and Sam watching.
“Very well, then. Thank you, Daniel.” Ammu turned toward Roman and smiled. “I take it, then, that you are Roman Jackson.”
“My name is Sketch,” he said immediately, and Rush smirked just a little.
“Oh? I apologize. Roman is the nickname listed in your file.”
“It’s new,” Roman said proudly. “It’s my gamer tag. Cause I can draw.”
“I see!” Ammu smiled gently. “And what do you like to draw?”
“Just stuff,” Roman said cautiously. “People, mostly.”
“That is very interesting. Would you consider that to be your special talent, do you think?”
“I don’t know,” Roman answered, shrugging a little.
“You’re good, man. He said don’t be modest. Tell him.” Rush shoved Roman lightly in the shoulder, and Roman grinned up at him shyly.
“I’m good, I guess,” Roman said.
“He’s really good,” Rush offered, and Roman beamed with pride.
“Well, if that is the case, then I would like very much to see your work. Would you draw something for me?” He picked up another yellow pad and pen and handed them toward Roman, but Roman hesitated, not taking them. He was afraid Ammu would ask him to draw someone here in the room, and he didn’t want them to know how he saw them, not even the good stuff.
“Um, I’m really better with pencils,” he said quietly.
“You should bring him your pad this afternoon,” Rush told him.
“Oh? Do you have a sketching book here with you?” Ammu asked.
“Yeah. It’s upstairs,” Roman responded, grateful for a way out of Ammu’s initial request.
“And would you be willing to bring it to me this afternoon? Along with some pencils, perhaps?”
“Sure,” Roman agreed. That last bit didn’t sound promising, but at least now he would have until the afternoon to figure out how to handle things.
“Wonderful!” Ammu said, smiling warmly, and then he turned his attention to Sam.
“So, then. You must be Samantha Prescott, yes?”
“That’s right,” Sam said. She was already dreading this conversation.
“And what would you say is your field of expertise, Samantha?”
What was her field of expertise? Everyone else had these amazing talents: music, art, mechanics, martial arts. Sam didn’t do anything like that. She did well in school, but that was it. She didn’t play sports. She wasn’t musical or artistic. She had been wracking her brain this whole time, and she still didn’t have an answer, but now she was on the spot. She had to say something.
“I honestly don’t know. I get good grades, and my teachers say I’m really good in math?”
“Mathematics can certainly be a pathway,” Ammu said encouragingly. “When you solve math problems, do you follow the steps as they have been taught? Or do you tend to see the solution as soon as you look at the problem?”
“I follow the steps,” she admitted, already disappointed. She saw what he was getting at. She was good at math, but it was something she did consciously, following logical steps that she understood. She didn’t leap to unconscious conclusions about math problems. Math might be one of her strengths, but it wasn’t her pathway.
“Interesting,” he said, watching her thoughtfully. “Do you, perhaps, find that you often know what people are thinking or feeling?”
“No,” she admitted, her voice becoming quieter. If anything, human emotion seemed like an unsolvable mystery. She was much more comfortable in the world of math and science and logical rules.
“And yet,” he said gently, “you knew why I was asking about following the steps, did you not? You knew it immediately.”
“That was just logic,” she said, her voice rising a bit. “You said you’re looking for the pathways between the conscious and unconscious minds. I knew that’s what you were looking for because you told me. It’s not like the vine example.”
Ammu pondered her silently, while Sam felt more and more embarrassed. Everyone was staring at her. Everyone else knew their talent. Sam was used to being the very best student in class, and now, suddenly, she wasn’t just average, she was worse than average. She was the worst student in the class.
Do not cry in front of everyone. Do NOT cry in front of everyone! She fought to control her feelings, struggling not to get up and storm out of the room.
Ammu seemed to sense her distress, and he spoke to her again, very gently, which only made her feel worse. Now she was the dumb kid. The one the teacher felt sorry for.
“I think, Samantha, that you have more of a gift than you realize. We will discover it together. You will see. Perhaps you can spend some time over lunch thinking about the things you like to do. It might be a hobby or a simple pastime that will lead us to your special pathway, even if it is not something you recognize as a particular skill.”
Sam just nodded, not trusting her voice to speak, and she huddled into herself, hugging her knees to her chest as he moved on to Rush.
“And what might your particular talent be, do you think?” he asked, watching Rush with interest.
Rush had his own reason to believe he might not have one of these special pathways the guy kept talking about. After all, he had answered most of the multiple-choice questions on that crazy test by just filling in random blanks! But at least he had a talent to distract everybody with—not like that poor Sam girl—and he wasn’t going to be shy about sharing it.