River Dee, Cheshire, UK - October, 1997.
On that morrow, sun shone brightly in the air and River Dee flowed as it did. Air was heavy with condensation, humid as a true English day. Three and a half mile away from the bank of the Welsh river stood the pride of Cheshire, the Chester Zoo. It was a famous spot for all of England, perhaps the most famous thing about Chester.
This day was special for many a children but perhaps it was the most special to primary school children from Woodfield Primary enjoyed their trip. Chester was not a big city and Woodfield certainly wasn't the biggest school, so everyone except the year ones had come. Ninety eight children from the age of eight to eleven. Unlike the small city that the zoo was built on, it could handle the many children setting themselves on it. Right then, all the children and the flustered teachers were looking at a Mandrill, a large monkey with a very uniquely colored mug. Kids were making faces at the animal, while many looked scared and ready to bolt. At the back of the crowd stood a boy, much like the other children, he was short and in the same uniform. Yet, anyone could see the difference in the way the boy carried himself.
For one, the boy had his hands in his pockets. His teachers had reprimanded him many times but at this point they had learned to ignore it. Next was his expression, it was as frozen as the Mandrill attempting to not rise up to the children's antics. Third was the eyes of the boy, it had a cast of deep thinking and loss. But who in their right mind would call that in the boy? It certainly wasn't going to be Chris.
Chris Hale was a man in his mid forties, he had worked all his life in education. There were many things he worried about. Namely that of his pupils or lack thereof. At some point the school had two hundred and fifty children, now it only had hundred and thirty. Things did not look good for the school and Cheshire as a whole, but in terms of the more recent things he had worries too. Namely, it was the boy that he was staring at who himself was staring at the mandrill. Wilfred Price, he was bit of a headache. Boy had never acted his age, always knowing too much and reacting too little.
There was something wrong with his pupil, but he couldn't find a reason to send him off somewhere. Kid had perfect marks on everything, year four wasn't difficult by any means but he had never asked about a topic once. He would listen and complete his work and stare out to the chickens. Only thing the child displayed that was close to the other children were how he played with the chicken in the yard. He liked feeding them and that was the only thing that gave truly good signal about the boy. Wilfred had not tried to talk to other children his age, nor even play with them outside the yard. Other children were like dirt to the boy and he seemed to carry sadness for the world each time Chris looked at him.
"Have you heard of Harambe?" Wilfred asked out of nowhere, having moved closer suddenly.
"Harambe? That Jamaican song? Harambe Harambe Rastaman?" Chris blurted out, that opened a load of embarrassing memories for his sixth form days.
"Oh, I've had no idea. Thanks, mate." Wilfred said idly before gazing over the monkey again.
"Listen 'ere pupils, who wants to go and see some snakes?" Mrs Waine asked, her voice shrill and loud yet only half the children seemed to hear.
Once they were in front of the glass enclosure of a large python in a natural environment, Wilfred spoke up again suddenly.
"You reckon that glass will disappear?"
"Uhh, listen Wilfred. If you have any problems back at home, you can speak to me." Chris started, Wilfred didn't respond so he continued, "If there are any inappropriate touching from your family or something, I can help you. I've seen children with anti-social behaviors like you, please let me help you."
Wilfred's expression finally changed, boy had a flush to his face, embarrassment and anger painting it red. It was the most he had seen the boy show so far.
"There is no inappropriate touching. Ermm, Mr. Hale, I want to make it absolutely clear that my parents are upstanding and fair people… I'm taken aback at your accusation." The boy spoke indignantly, using words not suited to his age.
Chris flushed himself, "Of course, I just had to make sure because it's not very easy to notice. Eh, thanks for letting me know. Good lad." Chris finished awkwardly.
Wilfred cleared his throat, "No more of such accusations. Thank you and that will be all, Mr. Hale." Boy said and stomped away.
This child had confounded him but he was glad to know that least things were fine back at home. Chris felt bad for the accusations even though it had good reasoning, Wilfred had displayed incredible mind and had speech and vocabulary that no one his age should really have. He promised himself that he would put the boy out of his anti-social behavior.
—
Woodfield Primary School, October 20, 1997
Chris had spoken at length with his staff about Wilfred Price. It was fair to say that nothing about the boy made any sense. His homeroom teacher Mrs. Ramsdale had said that the boy was quick at any task but had attitude problems. Boy had thrown tantrums multiple times over tasks involving fill the blank, arts & crafts and some teamwork activities. Only other teacher who had anything to say about the boy was the music teacher Mrs. Moss, who informed that the boy had a good understanding of music and had the best voice in his class but had not spoken to the boy for anything more than teach the pupil.
PE teacher for this year was still Mrs. Ramsdale. It was difficult to replace a staff member or even pay for one to work full time for a subject that anyone could teach. Knowing how the world seemed to be shaping, he doubted that there would be anyone hired for the role in the next few years.
"Could the two of you try challenging Wilfred with additional work? Give advanced tasks for his tests or in your case Mrs. Moss, try to encourage him to sing solo. I think the boy is talented and we may be able to get the boy to compete in olympiads or the UKMT, it could be good for Woodfield."
Or at least that was what Chris had suggested and now he was sitting in a conference room, listening to Mrs. Moss go on and on. Mrs. Ramsdale had nodded enthusiastically to most of what Moss was saying.
"Could we do that, do we have any budget for it?" Mrs. Moss asked.
Chris opened a drawer to pull out a budget list for curriculum materials for this year. "You have £75 for study aid and £150 for new instruments."
Elwyn seemed incredibly happy with the money. "I've always wanted to put on something for the children and make it more exciting." Elwyn said in her Welsh accent that cut out each word in a musical way.
"Putting on a play is frankly a genius idea." Chris complimented her, "I think parents will be happy with it, we need more pupils. Nothing can top a word-of-mouth." Chris muttered.
"Wilfred is a dear in his tests, I've been giving him tests each morning. Boy already knows trigonometry! Chris, have you met Mr. Price? He must be an academic of some renown, being five years ahead in studies explains so much of the boy's behavior." Joanna gushed in a similar tone to Elwyn.
"Calm down, Mrs. Ramsdale. But, you're right course. We need to speak to Mr and Mrs. Price before we really do anything with Wilfred." Chris calmed down Joanna.
"It's always exciting when we get the bright kids." Joanna smiled.
"Too true, it's good to see children growing up to their talent." Chris chuckled.
"I'll need that budget released to me. My god, I've always wanted to do Oliver! Instead of those stupid Christmas ones!" Elwyn went on.