Chapter 2 – Childhood Flashback
On Sunday morning, Don and Charlie stumbled down the stairs in search of breakfast. When the boys entered the kitchen, they found their parents inspecting the contents of the refrigerator. Don teasingly called out, "Aww, Mom, you're not letting Dad cook again are you?"
Without turning around, she replied, "Now that Charlie's a little older, I'm going to start taking a few classes at the community college. Which means everyone is going to need to help out around the house a little more. That's why your father is learning how to cook."
Smiling at her husband she added, "Not that he needs much help. Before long, he's going to be a much better cook than I am."
Don's snort of disbelief was quickly silenced when Alan turned a quieting gaze on his oldest son. "Perhaps you should make yourself useful and set the table, hmm?"
Don offered a token grumble of dissent, but quickly set out to perform the task. As he made his way around the table placing plates and utensils, Charlie trailed after him adjusting each piece of silverware into a perfect 90-degree angle from the edge of the table. Don had long ago given up on getting Charlie to understand why someone might find that annoying and instead developed a habit of placing the silverware askew just so Charlie would have something to fix.
Alan rubbed his hands together and exclaimed, "Alright! What should I make today?"
All week, Charlie had been wondering about Mr. Taper's little "pancake" comment. He'd asked Don, but Don just shrugged it off. Seeing an opportunity to solve the mystery, Charlie suggested pancakes and his father happily accepted the challenge.
Don shot his brother a warning look, but Charlie pressed on. "What does it mean to call someone or something the first pancake?"
His mother pondered the question as she gathered ingredients for her husband to stir into a big mixing bowl. "Well, the first pancake is sort of a test run. You watch it carefully and adjust the heat if it's cooking too fast or too slow. That way, the second pancake and all the ones after that come out perfect. So, I suppose it would mean you were describing something as a weak or failed first attempt."
Charlie's eyes met Don's over the table. Charlie's eyes were wide with shock, while Don's held a mix of embarrassment and sadness. Unaware of the silent exchange at the table, their parents continued chatting.
"Right, right. It's that old saying 'The first pancake is always spoiled.'" Alan laughed, "You know, I never understood what that meant!"
Don wordlessly finished setting the table and drifted out of the room. Charlie abandoned his self-appointed task and raced after him.
Catching up to his brother, Charlie declared, "It isn't true!"
Don shrugged. "It's okay, Charlie."
"It's not okay. You're not the first pancake!"
Don ruffled Charlie's hair and offered him a smile, but it was obvious Mr. Taper's comment still stung.
The brothers sat in silence for some time as Charlie struggled to find a way to put into words what he was feeling. Don wasn't a failed first attempt! Don wasn't a failed anything. Charlie didn't see him that way and he knew their parents didn't. But obviously, Mr. Taper did. "It's the experimenter expectancy effect!"
Don looked puzzled and then frustrated. "I don't understand."
Charlie rushed to explain. "Sometimes the expectations of the experimenter can affect the results. An experimenter with preexisting expectations about a human or animal test subject's abilities gives off cues. Test subjects can pick up on those unspoken cues of the person conducting the experiment."
Don shrugged. "So?"
"So, Mr. Taper expects people to excel in math. When someone doesn't, he expects that person to be a failure in all areas. And because he expects you to be a failure, you feel like a failure. Mom and Dad and I… we don't see you that way. We know you're good at sports and…"
"No, Charlie, no. It's not a matter of expectations. No matter how well somebody expected me to perform, I couldn't do what you do. Believe me, when Mom and Dad were first figuring out that you were gifted, they put me through the ringer trying to see if I had it too. I'd never done so many math problems in my life. 'Charlie, can add four digit numbers in his head. You try it.' I hated it."
Charlie was startled. "I… I never knew that."
"Yeah, well, you were three years old at the time. If it didn't involve math or Blue Bear, you were pretty oblivious."
Charlie smiled at the comment. Blue Bear, a now tattered stuffed animal, still held a place of honor at the head of Charlie's bed; but in his younger days Blue Bear had been his constant companion. Don had reinforced his rank as hero in Charlie's eyes by rescuing Blue Bear many times. Charlie had a habit of running off and forgetting his toy, only to become hysterical hours later when he suddenly realized Blue Bear was lost. Don would head off in search of the bear, retracing Charlie's steps and checking all of Charlie's favorite spots in the backyard and around the house until the bear was found.
It had become a ritual between them. Having learned that Don could always successfully find the bear, he instantly calmed down once Don said the words, "It's okay, Charlie. I'll find Blue Bear."
Charlie wished he had a similar phrase of comfort to offer Don. Suddenly, inspiration struck. Charlie dashed back into the kitchen. "Mom! Dad! Can I have the first pancake?"
Alan turned to his son with a look of chagrin. "I don't think so, Charlie. It was, ah, pretty bad. I gave up on it after a couple of bites." Reaching for the plate it was resting on he added, "I think we'd better throw it out."
"Dad, please! Can I have the first pancake, please?"
With a shrug, Alan relented and handed over the small plate containing one slightly burnt pancake with a couple of bites missing. Slowly and reverently, Charlie carried it over to the table and placed it down with a flourish befitting a Thanksgiving Day turkey. His parents exchanged amused glances, but said nothing.
When breakfast was ready and the rest of the family was settling into their chairs, a subdued Don slunk into the room and threw himself into his chair. Unaware of the cause of his son's mood, Alan observed, "Uh-oh. This seems like the start of a serious brood. What's up, Donnie?" After receiving no reply, he continued, "I suppose this cheerful disposition is also the reason you couldn't set the table like a normal person? It looks like you just threw everything down."
Before the boys could say anything, his wife calmly replied, "That's Charlie's job. Don sets the table and Charlie straightens. I'm guessing Charlie got distracted and didn't finish. Right, Charlie?"
"Right," Charlie answered. Alan muttered something about not realizing setting the table was such a difficult task it required two people. Don slid further down in his seat.
Hoping to change the subject, Charlie hastily shoved a big bite of pancake in his mouth and announced, "This is the best pancake I ever had. I don't know why anyone would want to throw it away. I think this is the best one."
Alan answered, "Well, thank you, Charlie. It's nice to know my cooking is appreciated. Although next time I'd prefer it if you waited until your mouth wasn't full, hmm? Yeah, these pancakes didn't turn out half bad, huh? Who knows, maybe I'll start cooking more often."
"Mmm! I like the sound of that!" his wife cheered. This launched a friendly debate over who should cook dinner that evening.
Knowing their parents were distracted, Don whispered, "It's okay, Charlie. You don't have to eat it." Reaching for the stack of pancakes in the middle of the table, he added, "Here, I'll get you another one."
Placing his hand on Don's arm, Charlie insisted, "It's okay, Don. The first pancake is my favorite."
Smiling, Don relented and turned his attention back to his own plate. His mood seemed to improve over the course of breakfast, and he was positively cheerful that evening when Charlie announced to his parents that he disliked his new tutor immensely and refused to work with him ever again.
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