Page 87 of The Mentor
We nailed it. Or rather, Sky and Mila got so nervous when they had to spell their words that they fumbled and messed up. It was ironic because those two girls were actually really good at spelling. Still, the Northlands took that point and that was all that mattered.
Next the children battled in math. The little ones had to go over the math tables as fast as possible, while the older one had to solve more complicated math problems.
I was proud of my boys, who kept their nerves in check and focused on the task in front of them like brave troopers. Only two of them messed up and got the answer wrong. I fisted my hand and shouted “Yes” when the Northlands took that point as well.
“Okay, now let’s see how well you work together,” Cindy said. “For the next assignment we want a group answer. We have gathered five questions about this hotel and you have ten minutes to find the answers. Each group will get a pencil and a ruler.”
The kids eagerly bunched together and started reading the five questions before they ran in different directions.
To fill out the time, the journalist interviewed Varna about her experience with the men of the North. I smiled when I overheard her say that she had been pleasantly surprised. I would have to buy Finn a beer when we got back to the Northlands.
The kids ran here and there before they came back to the front of the hotel where we were all standing, both groups staring up at the flagpole.
“What are they doing?” I asked Finn.
“They have to measure the height of the flagpole,” he said. “It was Cindy’s idea.”
When the ten minutes were up, Finn started counting backwards from twenty before he demanded to have the answers they had come up with.
“The first question was: name the year this hotel was built,” he said. “And both groups were correct with the year 2415.”
“It said so on a sign by the entrance,” William said.
Both groups also had the three questions after that correct, but when we got to the height of the flagpole, no one seemed sure and Cindy needed help converting the boys’ feet into meters.
“The Nboys’ answer is six meters, which isn’t correct,” Cindy announced.
“We didn’t have enough time,” Storm complained.
“The Motlander children’s answer is seven meters and twenty centimeters, which isn’t correct either.”
“It’s okay,” Nicki said diplomatically. “It was a fun game, and it’s about participating, not about winning.”
“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, and you’ll be a loser for life.” Solomon grunted at her.
Marco stepped forward. “How about the assistant teachers take over this challenge? I’m sure I can have the answer within a few minutes, and I can’t imagine that Miss Brainy would be afraid of a challenge.” He squared his shoulders and looked straight at Shelly.
Shelly glanced at all the onlookers but with a tensed-up expression, she gave a small nod in acceptance of his challenge.
The Nboys started cheering for Marco as if he was their hero, while the Motlander children placed sympathetic hands on Shelly’s shoulders.
After a bit of whispering between Finn and Cindy, they announced: “Marco’s suggestion has been accepted. You will each have three minutes to find the answer, starting now!”
Marco snatched the pencil from Solomon and sprinted to the flagpole, where he quickly measured his own height and made a mark with the pencil.
Using his superior strength, he pulled himself up until his feet were with in line with the mark, and he continued with this strategy until he was at the very top of the flagpole.
I kept my eyes focused on him, and enjoyed the sight of his impressive technique when he used his shoes and arms to slide down the flagpole as if it was a fireman’s pole.
Clearly the audience was in awe of him too, and I was proud of him when he came running back to stand in front of Cindy and Finn, sweaty and out of breath.
“The pole is thirty feet high,” he said with a smug smile of satisfaction. “I used my own six point three feet to measure against.”
Shelly stood calmly and relaxed beside him.
“What happened, did you give up?” he asked her with a chuckle.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she said softly. “But I don’t have your muscle strength, so pulling myself up like you did would’ve been impossible for me.”
