Mum’s grip on the Mind Mat tightened, twisting it. Zak winced. It was sturdy gear, but the instructions warned – no twisting.
‘No,’ said Mum after a deep breath. ‘I know what the explanation is. Zak spends all his spare time playing games.’
‘I see,’ said the headmaster, raising his eyebrows. ‘But clearly you have the power to do something about that.’
Mum looked down at the Mind Mat in her hands.
Zak did not like the way this conversation was headed.
‘I don’t like it,’ said Mum, ‘but it’s all he’s interested in. I’ve tried to persuade him to do other things.’
‘We are not opposed to the Mind Mat,’ said Mr. Smith. ‘There are thousands of educational programs that we recommend pupils to play, from… experiencing life in a bronze-age village, to flying with a swarm of african bees.’
‘Sounds great,’ said Zak under his breath.
‘Just minimise the amount of frivolous usage Mrs. Carter.’
‘Yes, I will do that,’ said Mum.
‘You need to make sure he does a variety of activities, so he doesn’t get obsessed with any one of them. I would also recommend shoving him outside regularly so he can get some fresh air.
This was going too far.
‘But I can’t play outside can I?’ Zak retorted. ‘It’s too cold. There’s been a blizzard for the last month, and the snow’s too deep to walk in.’
‘You’re not in a position to answer back,’ snapped Mr. Smith. ‘As a child you do as you’re told. When you reach eighteen you can decide for yourself.’
Zak wanted this conference to end as soon as possible.
‘Okay. I will work harder,’ he conceded, letting his head drop.
‘You had better,’ replied the headmaster. ‘This school has exceptionally high standards. We will review your performance again at the end of the calendar year. If there is not a significant improvement, you will be excluded from the school. I’m sure I don’t need to spell out the consequences of that.’
Excluded! That was extreme, especially since the school was suffering falling numbers. Mum and Dad looked equally horrified.
