March 28, 2020 - SUPER Nice Sunday Ramification, Theo -

I read for SMART for three years, with one kid. (I should give him a pseudonym, I guess – we’ll call him Theo. He isn’t a Theo at all, but we’ll take it.)

SMART readers are not supposed to stick with one kid for three years, but Theo and I swore a blood oath at the end of year one that we would see each other in the fall, not knowing that was frowned upon, (sticking together year after year was frowned upon), and when I explained to our site coordinator, she let it go. Theo was dyslexic, though why he didn’t know that until third grade is a mystery. Maybe nobody told him. Maybe nobody knew. He was a science-geek kid, and he just could not read, but he must have watched science shows or something. Somehow he had memorized a whole bunch of stuff, and he knew a lot about a lot.

Officially, our job as SMART readers was to have an enjoyable reading experience with the kids. We weren’t supposed to teach reading. We were just supposed to make reading fun. We were supposed to do this by letting the kids pick a free paperback out of the baskets of SMART books, which were a few fun classic picture books and a LOT of age-appropriate cheap 14-page paperbacks featuring Lego characters, or Disney characters, or whatnot. A lot of product placement in those books, is what I’m saying. And the plots (generous term, “plot”) were predictable.

When Theo and I met the first time, he said, Can we PLEASE not do the books in the SMART baskets, please? I said sure. I was a sub, because I had started halfway through the year, so I had rotated through a couple of other kids, and I had come to hate the Disney princess books, and it was fine with me if we skipped them. Also, SMART was held in the school library, so we were surrounded by more interesting books. So many of them.

Theo (first grade, here) took off for a shelf of big, fat science books, LOTS of words, a few illustrations per page, and he found us a table off of the main drag, and we sat down. He’d say: Read that! And I would, and he’d say: That’s WRONG, though. Dog sharks don’t do that. Dog sharks do THIS. And read THAT. Did they label that illustration a Mastodon? That’s not a mastodon. Do you know why?

It was pretty much love at first SMART match.

We stuck together until he aged out at the end of third grade. Occasionally I’d say, look, we need to do SOMETHING that looks legit, so I’m going to read up to here, with my finger under each word, and then I’ll stop and you’ll work on the next word, deal? And he’d do it, though I only picked little words. (My assignment: make it fun.)

I also got the idea of writing him a note every week, his name on the envelope and all, in block caps. He had to decipher the notes between meetings. He kept them all, and would say, Oh, good, I’ll put this in my collection. (Dear Theo – Hi. This is from Celia. I want to read about wombats. Or volcanos. How about you?) (He knew they were from me, but I wanted him to learn to read my name.) He didn’t write me notes, but he brought me kid artwork, signed BFF, THEO.

In third grade, Theo got a fabulous teacher, and announced to me that he was dyslexic. He was SO excited! There was a name for what he had! He explained dyslexia to me.

I have gone on too long, I know, but stick with me. At the end of our last year, I asked Mr. Fabulous Teacher if he knew Theo’s parents, and if he thought I might ask their permission to stay in touch with Theo, maybe just by dropping him a note now and then. Mr. Fabulous Teacher said they were wonderful people, super young but somehow managing to do everything, and he was sure they would say yes. I wrote a letter and sent it home with Theo. School ended. Weeks passed. Then I got a laboriously lettered note from Theo that said, MY MOM SAYS OK. And there was a return address.

(My husband and I were standing in line at the pizza place a few years after all that, and there was this nice looking guy behind us, and I squinted at him because he was so familiar, and I said, I KNOW you from somewhere! He laughed and said I know you, too: you’re Theo’s BFF! He was Mr. Fabulous Teacher.)

SO. I write to Theo every few months, and he answers once in a while. We’re cool. He wrote when they moved, so I wouldn’t lose track of him. He generally tells me how tall he is (he is very tall) and a few other words of info. He sometimes illustrates the notes. I haven’t seen him since that last day when he was in third grade. He signs the cards BFF, THEO. They are short, but funny. He was very excited when I told him I had a grandson.

I sent him a card when local schools closed a couple of weeks ago, because of the coronavirus crisis. I said I hoped he would find stuff to keep him busy, and I was thinking of him.

Guess what I got in the mail today!? I got a letter! It is thin. There is probably a quarter page of paper in there. I haven’t opened it, saving that for tomorrow. But on the back it says: MY PHONE NUMBER. And there is the number. I guess the ball is in my court.