Mr Power - the hunger for education

Mr Power,

 We have moved away from friends, distanced ourselves from family support networks.  The grandparents are stoical and despite trying to hide it, quietly saddened at the distance now between them, their grandson and their soon to be granddaughter.

But Sophie and I agreed, we had to move here, for the kids, for their future, so they had the best possible chance in life.  The chance we never had to be accepted into the most desirable of all schools.

 Our postcode now places us in the heartland of three academic institutions.  We are a little out of place I have to admit, our 57 reg. family wagon does not match up and I can see sympathy in their polite smiles as the neighbours view the accommodation we can afford on my salary .

It’s the eleventh of July and we were scheduled to meet at the school at 13:15.  We stand, unsure, in the gleaming entrance, the large chrome doors hushed shut behind us.

He strides down the hallway and breezes into the foyer smiling with the well-fed pomp and purpose of a man controlling a desirable asset. 

‘Welcome to our little piece of Britain’s future.  Mark, Sophie, I am so pleased you have chosen to come and see us.’    He enthused, projecting a fleshy hand to me and his eyes to Sophie. ‘I understand you have a lad you are thinking of entrusting to our educational process,,, and I can see,’ changing his smile to a knowing grin, ‘You are planning another attendee?’ He released his grip and with a gracious backhand indicated Sophie’s tightly constrained mid section.

‘Yes, a little girl, due in two months.’  Sophie pre-empted ,  keen to get on with the business at hand.

‘Oh delightful, I am sure we will enjoy her here enormously too, should you elect to enrol her.’ He drew breath  as he continued. ‘But Please excuse me, I must apologise, of course I know all about you from your application, I’m Gary Power, Chief administrator.  I am your greeter and explainer and it’s my role to simply show you around and impress you with our facility. Oh good, I see you parked in the visitor’s bay.’  A vast executive saloon stood gleaming near the entry.

‘ Well, no actually, we walked. Yours is the closest of the three possible schools to our home.’  I was pleased to be able to get a word in between his practiced patter, and to indicate we were still quite undecided about our options...  This wasn’t the case as Sophie had told me repeatedly this was the best of the three schools and we had to ensure we presented ourselves professionally.  I was on the tightest of her leashes.

‘Excellent, I am pleased we are so convenient for you.  Come, let’s begin the tour!’  And without pausing he turned and headed off, glancing over his shoulder to say,  ‘It is timely that you should be looking this term,  we rarely have vacancies now but, I can say, if you do decide to enrol, a place may be made available’

‘Oh? Really? How come?’ Sophie was almost unable to contain her professionalism.

‘Oh, there are ways… but if it makes a difference in your selection decision, I can guarantee you a place here.’  And a  grin creased his podgy countenance as he led us on an exploration of the classroom and sporting facilities, regaling us with academic achievements and recognition attained by the school and the students.   He also explained an initiative where the school enrolled homeless local children and, as he put it, processed them through the system to ensure they could contribute to the school and community.  Sophie was growing more convinced of the school’s suitability and as we passed by the kitchens, redolent of sumptuous meals, she advised Mr. Power of our desire to formally enrol our lad.

‘Excellent! Let me congratulate you both on your wise decision!  We look forward to processing your son through our education.’  He again shook my hand and offered a smile and an open hand to Sophie. ‘Oh, look, given the timing,’ glancing up at the nearest wall clock, ‘Would you like to join the head teacher’s table for lunch?’

‘That would be great, thank you.’  I accepted perhaps too willingly, my nose driving my sudden appetite.  The luncheon was delectable,  the pork stew a keynote and we were enthralled by the informative chat and camaraderie of the staff who showed a special and common bond.  

‘This meal was delicious’ mouthed Sophie as she swept the gravy with a piece of crusty loaf.

‘Well, thank you, we are quite famous for it you know, we pack and sell this particular stew nationally , the income supplements school fees so we can better provide the facilities you have seen.’

‘Oh, I’d love to see the kitchens.’    Sophie was a food tech in her pre-parent career but was to be thwarted at this time.

‘Regrettably, due to OH&S you understand, that will not be possible but you do join us on a rather special kitchen occasion.’  Mr Power grinned.  ‘Today we confirmed a huge re-order so we can now enrol a lot more youngsters!’ 

I could see Sophie had as many questions as I did about how that all worked but the other teachers wanted to know about our lad and to describe the school’s approach to their higher sciences.  Towards the end of a most interesting hour Mr Power rose and excused himself saying he had some details to take care of, said he would process our documentation and gave us directions back to the foyer.
Passing by the kitchens again Sophie couldn’t resist sticking her head through the door to have a quick look.  It was the large pile of neatly folded school uniforms that initially puzzled her but what put a gnawing ache in the pits of our gut were the small well-washed bodies slowly moving along what looked for all the world like an abattoir line.