Anomaly Read Free Page A

minds.
    Teller returned to college determined to become a teacher and excelled where once he had floundered. The East Side Village Community School was his second teaching position, and he loved it.
    It was Monday morning.
    The anomaly had dominated the news over the weekend.
    The kids from his fifth grade class poured into the classroom in an avalanche of noise and confusion, yelling and laughing, pushing and jostling with each other. They came from a kaleidoscope of social backgrounds, and he loved their diversity. The world should be more childlike, he thought, the kids didn't care about the color of someone's skin or the style of clothing they wore. All they cared about was playing ball. In their innocence, they hadn't learned to separate into religious or social cliques. And the reason was clear, they all had one thing in common, their excitement for life.
    Teller sat on the edge of his desk at the front of the classroom. He flicked a switch as the commotion died down and the overhead projector hummed, showing an image of the United Nations building just a few miles north of them. The kids reacted immediately, pointing at the screen and talking over the top of each other, their eyes lighting up.
    The slab of concrete that previously formed the middle of the intersection lay on a steep angle over against East 45 th Avenue, tilting toward the morning sun rising slowly over the river. Twelve floors carved out of the State Department building were suspended in the sky, hundreds of meters above a gaping hole in the ground. The flags were just a foot or so above the road, but they were slowly moving toward their severed flagpoles still standing inert beside the UN building. They fluttered in the breeze, apparently unaware of how remarkable it was for them to be disembodied and levitating.
    Several trailers had been set up around the roads approaching the intersection, portable site offices established for the engineers and scientists who had gathered from around the country, but the largest contingent was just outside the barricade. It was the media. All the major networks were present. The park adjacent to the UN building had become a sea of tents and trailers.
    “OK,” said David Teller. “I'm guessing from your excitement you all saw the news over the weekend. So, who knows what this is?”
    Hands shot up in the air as the kids responded to his well-rehearsed routine. They all wanted to be the first one to blurt out the answer. Several kids were calling out over the top but Teller ignored them, picking out Johnny, a young black child sitting in the middle of the class. Johnny stood and spoke proudly.
    “It's the anom-ma-la-ly. At least, that's what they're calling it on TV.”
    Teller smiled.
    “It's a funny word, isn't it?” he said. “It's a bit hard to get your tongue around. Why do you think they're calling this an anomaly? Does anyone know what the word anomaly means?”
    Susan Parker sat in the front row. She was an exceptionally bright student from a Hispanic background. Her father was a drunk. Her mother worked nights, trying desperately to raise her family out of poverty. Teller had high hopes for Susan. She had the potential to go far, far beyond the East Village. He picked Susan. She stood up, feeling proud.
    “An anomaly is something strange or unusual, something that is not normal.”
    “Very good. Do you think this is an anomaly?” he asked.
    Her face beamed. She enjoyed being asked her opinion. She responded with an emphatic “Yes.”
    “Why is it an anomaly?” Teller asked, trying not to trip over his own words. The phrase an-anomaly was a tongue twister.
    “Because this isn't natural,” one of the more impulsive students blurted out.
    Teller smiled, saying, “No, it's not. Is it?”
    Teller moved his computer mouse and brought up a time-lapse video clip that condensed the motion of the anomaly over 24 hours down to 60 seconds. The students watched in awe as the slab of concrete, the flags and