For Bone_Dry, she knows why.

Gum


"People think it must be fun to be a super genius, but they don't realize how hard it is to put up with all the idiots in the world."-Calvin and Hobbes

Talented

His genius was not something that he attempted to flaunt and yet despite his best efforts it seemed to flaunt itself. By the time he was eight months old he could speak in complete sentences, letters coalesced into words a year later, and by three he was climbing up bookshelves to get to the classics.

His parents- for all of their prior experience with child-rearing- were flummoxed with how to handle such a prodigy. His father had worked the same blue-collar job since graduating from high school and his mother, though a voracious reader, was at heart a home maker, not a scholar. Questions abounded the older he became: Should they send him to the local school where at least he would have his siblings to protect him? Keep him at home? Send him away?

In the end, they settled things as they always had; by a family vote. It was decided by all that however his genius came to be it could not be ignored and should be cultivated no matter the cost. The one stipulation was that the school be in Michigan so that he could still be a part of the family's life on weekends and holidays. Careful research was done, interviews were set up, pennies were pinched within an inch of their lives, and somehow they managed the best private school possible.

Unfortunately, they did not take into account that while he was nothing like his brothers and sisters, at least at home he fit in by nature of the familial bond; whereas at school he had no such ties. Teased by those who didn't know better and taunted by those who did, he floundered socially. After several failed attempts to "fit in" as it were- including his successful, yet short-lived attempts at musical theater- he deduced that social niceties were more trouble than they were worth and that he would be better off focusing his energies on his academics.

Breezing through grade school requirements at an accelerated pace he found himself a teenager amongst twenty-somethings. Given the age gap, coupled with his innate need to correct any error in thought that was expressed, he soon found that his social disconnect was even wide at the collegiate level. Still, he excelled in both his anthropology studies as well as applied engineering, and was satisfied with what he was accomplishing. By age twenty he had his Masters degree and had begun work on two separate doctorates.

All of the genius in the world, however, could not necessarily decide his academic fate as a grad student given the human element that was involved in the selection process. He had applied for several positions, selecting the ones that both piqued his interests and satisfied his need to be challenged despite his high IQ, and finally returned to Michigan with his family to await a response.

The first three reply letters he received thanked him politely for his application, but either they did not feel he was the best person suited for it or the position had been filled prior to his application. The fourth would accept him, but only under certain stipulations that had not been given upfront; ones that did not appeal to him and that led to his turning the position down.

The fifth and final letter came on a cold winter's day while his brothers were out hunting and his sisters were baking. Without preamble, he retrieved the mail, neatly opening the envelope as he thought about what its contents might hold. There was no reason that he should not be granted this one, but as he had learned there were no guarantees, either. If he were honest, he would have to admit that of all of the persons he had applied to, this was the one he had hoped would not turn him away. She, like him, was brilliant, and to learn under such a mind would be a privilege, an honor, and precisely the challenge that he sought.

As if it were a bone in need of inspection, he reverently pulled the paper out and began reading. A wide grin spread across his face as its contents became apparent. Of the many applicants she had reviewed, she had chosen him!

That night, the family as a whole celebrated with him, alternately hugging and thumping him to the point where he was concerned for his vertebrae. They didn't fully understand the implications of the position any more than they understood the genius, but it didn't matter because they did understand that all of their sacrifice had not been for naught.

It was late by the time he got to bed, but when he did he carefully slipped the letter back in its envelope for safekeeping, turned off the lights, and dreamed about an auburn-haired woman who would guide him along the final steps to his becoming Dr. Zachary Uriah Addy.