What were they doing calling him on one of his weekend days? And surely most of them would be on their days-off. One of the teachers was definitely speaking from his own home, judging by the eye-melting pattern that drifted on the wall behind him.
Mr. Smith slowly looked up.
‘Mrs. Carter, I believe you handle your son’s education.’
‘That’s right,’ said Mum timidly. She stood head slightly bowed, the Mind Mat still in her hands.
‘Let’s get to the point,’ said Mr. Smith. ‘By the end of the last school year, Zak had established himself at the top of his class. Indeed, I recall a meeting similar to this one, in which we praised his performance.’
Mum nodded. Mr. Smith stared straight ahead.
‘So, it is with regret that we find a steady decline in marks over this term. Falling in the region of 5% per week. His current average mark is down 43% on last year’s. That leaves him incredibly, now ranked second bottom.’
Mr. Smith paused, allowing the statistics to sink in.
‘What has been your response to this decline?’ he demanded.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know about it,’ said Mum. ‘I haven’t been regularly checking.’
‘Not checking!’ barked the headmaster. ‘You should have the chart on your wall, where you’ll see his progress every day. You can’t miss a big red line going downwards.’
‘Yes, I’ll set it up right after this meeting.’
‘That’s just a start,’ said Mr. Smith firmly. ‘I decided to personally review his work. He has submitted every assignment, but over time there is less and less effort going into each one. It only takes one blink to submit – and his last entry suggests he barely did more than that. I want an explanation for this behaviour.’
Zak wanted to crawl away. This was news to Mum – her face showed it.
One of the female teachers coughed and leaned forward with a sympathetic smile.
‘Are there… family problems?’ she asked, tentatively.
