CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: I’M GONNA NEED HELP AGAIN
“Ronald Weasley, wait a minute. Let me follow you home.” Prof. McGonagall said that to me one day after school.
So I waited for her outside the office. I heard her talking to another teacher, saying, “Family interview again. What luck I have to get a ‘boy wonder’.”
She came out with an umbrella in her hand and said with her eyes squinting, “My, what a hot day!”
I walked behind her. Whenever I stepped on her shadow I would stop for a while. But Prof. McGonagall would turn around and say, “Hurry up, boy. I have other things to do, you know.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell on you,” she smiled as she patted my head. “I called your mother this morning and she said the best time would be in the evening where there’ll be little customers. So I picked this time to go and meet her.”
I didn’t know what to say. Sweat was falling all over my face and dripped onto my eyes. I didn’t dare to wipe them away, so I kept on blinking.
Once she reached the shop, she kept her umbrella. I ran inside quickly and said as I secretly wiped the sweat with my arm, “Professor’s here, Mother.”
Mother was washing the dishes. She said, “Forgive me, professor. The shop’s a little messy. Have a seat and I’ll get you a soft drink.”
But Prof. McGonagall didn’t want soft drinks. She sat down and said, “Sorry for interrupting your business, Mrs. Weasley. I just wanted to discuss with you about things concerning your son.”
Mother wiped her hands on her apron and sat opposite Prof. McGonagall.
Prof. McGonagall said, “I suppose you know that Ronald is an exceptional child. To tell the truth, I don’t see him learning anything in my class.”
Mother lowered her head and kept wiping her hands on her apron.
Prof. McGonagall continued, “It’s not that I don’t care about Ronald, but my hands are full. Today’s high school students are cunning-minded and smart-mouthed. You tell them one thing and they’ll give you something else. Just handling this bunch of normal students is enough to give me a massive headache.” She thought for a while and smiled, “Well, I’m not saying that your son is not normal, it’s just that he needs some kind of special learning.”
Mother looked up quickly and said, “I sent him for tuition—French class, for that matter—and he goes together with his sister Ginny to help him on that subject. Very expensive fees, you know.”
“It’s not enough to help him just by French tuition alone. He’s way behind everyone even in English and Math, not to mention Biology and History, just to name a few.” Every time Prof. McGonagall said something, she shook her head. I thought about the name ‘Francois’ I got from the French teacher during French tuition class. If I were to go for English tuition, I’m not going to let myself be called ‘Francois’ anymore. I don’t like the name ‘Francois’. It confused me between being a friend and a fly swat. I’m not a fly swat. I’m a boy.
Luckily, Mother said she wasn’t going to take me for English tuition. She said, “We send him to your school in hope that he’ll at least learn something out of it. If he’s being naughty you can beat his hand or you can punish him by facing the wall if necessary.”
“That’s not the problem, Mrs. Weasley,” Prof. McGonagall shook her hand, “He’s a special boy and he should be put in a special class. It’s just that our school doesn’t have the power or the funds to start up special classes and we can’t help him much. Maybe you should consider the option of an institution…”
“I refuse to waste my money and let my son be put in a looney bin even if they can help him!” Mother raised her voice a little. “My son deserves to have the same education as everyone else!”
“Please calm down, Mrs. Weasley. I understand what you mean, but he still needs all the help he can get.”
Mother would be angry if anyone mentioned me being put into this place called ‘institution’. She called it a ‘looney bin’ where people put crazy people in it, and she would always tell me that I’m not crazy, just slow. I know I’m not crazy. I’m a retard, that’s all.
After listening for a while, I finally understood what they were talking about. Mother kept saying the word ‘help’ and Prof. McGonagall also said ‘help’ once in a while. I got it. I need ‘help’. I know ‘help’ very well. Mother knew how to make them. During winter, she would go to a weird-smelling shop where there’s this Chinese old man would pick out all sorts of weird plants, then he would ask Mother to cook them together with chicken soup. The plants would make the chicken soup black and bitter, and Mother would force me to drink them. She would always say, “Drink this and see if it can help you be smarter.”
Bloody hell! Even Prof. McGonagall said about ‘help’. I am definitely dead meat. I guess I’ll be forced to drink ‘help’ even at this bloody hot summer day.
Prof. McGonagall and Mother both lowered their heads and ran their fingers on the table. I wanted to go watch cartoons upstairs, but when I stood up, Prof. McGonagall spoke again.
“All I can do now is let Ronald sit in class and treat him as a guest. I let him have his lunch at school and let him sleep in class. I’ve tried my best, Mrs. Weasley, but my hands are tied.”
Mother sighed, “It cannot be helped, I suppose. I’m often busy selling waffles and I have no time to look after him. I hope you take real good care of him, professor.”
Prof. McGonagall stood up, and I quickly got her umbrella for her. Before she left, she asked me, “Are you ever bored in school?”
I shook my head.
Prof. McGonagall sighed quietly, but I heard her. I just didn’t know what she was sighing for.
Today was not a good day. Mother and Prof. McGonagall had sighed a lot, and I might be drinking ‘help’ sooner or later. ‘Help’ sure is bloody bitter.
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