Maniu T's Arc

Chapter 7 of 9

By Thursday, the bench was full again, but the trouble had changed. The four returning children opened their slates and found nothing they knew. Mark had kept coming every day. He could already sound out whole words. The others were still stuck on single letters. A girl put her chalk down and stared at the floor. Maniu saw it plainly. They felt too far behind to catch up, and children who feel stupid go home for good. "They'll leave by morning," Princess Letter said. She stood at the door with the green pup, watching the girl's face. Princess Letter traveled from kingdom to kingdom teaching children letters, and she read a room fast. "Not because they're scared. Because Mark's ahead and they're not. Nobody stays to feel small." "Then I split the day," Maniu said. "Teach them alone while Mark works ahead." "You have one mouth. You can't teach five different lessons at once." The door opened before Maniu could answer. An old man in a star-covered robe stepped in, leaning on a staff that carried a small flame at its top. Maniu had written to him once, years back, and gotten no reply. Mr. Learning had come anyway, on his own time. "You wrote that you wanted every child reading," Mr. Learning said. He looked at the slates, then at Mark. "You already have your best tool sitting right there." "Mark's a student," Maniu said. "Mark knows what these four don't. That makes him a teacher for one hour a day." The wizard crossed to the bench and set a bold blue letter B in front of the stuck girl. "Watch," he told her. "The boy will show you. If he can learn it, so can you. That's the whole trick." Maniu tried it before he could talk himself out of it. He sat Mark beside the girl and gave him one job: teach her the sounds he already knew. Mark hesitated, then pointed at the blue B and said its sound. The girl copied him. She got it wrong. Mark said it again, slower, the way Maniu had said it to him. This time she got it right. By afternoon, the four children were not watching Mark from behind. They were working next to him. Mr. Learning walked the bench, fixing a grip here, a sound there, while Maniu taught the newest letters up front. The gap that had scared them off began to close, one child pulling the next. Mr. Learning stopped at the door as he left. "They'll catch up now," he said. "But you should know something. The rider who passed the mill didn't ride back east. He's still here, asking which families sent children today." He looked at Maniu. "He's writing down names. The landowner wants a list." The girl said the sound of the B again, proud of it. Outside, past the gate, a man on horseback sat writing.