Obscure Superpower

Waiting on the ramp up to an air-conditioned bungalow classroom, I spoke with a group of second graders. I had pulled them from their class to be given an English listening and speaking test, a state requirement for all ELLs.

When called, boys will pump their fists. Girls beam their missing toothed smiles as their names are called for this showcase showdown. They all will eagerly push their chairs in and scurry to try to get into line first. They talk and ask questions. "Where are we going?" "Who are you?" "What are we doing?" I respond in a pleasant tone. It's wonderful to see the unjaded children bounce and smile when they hear the word "test."

This batch of second graders chirped with excitement, an enthusiasm at leaving their classroom and its A/C to walk across the heated blacktop to the most remote room the school counselor could find.

A Cambodian boy, extremely talkative, his English almost flawless for a second grader, no accent found anywhere, was telling me things that he could do. He had already listed off tying his shoes and running fast. He then said, "I can make water come out of my eyes."

Tying shoes and fast running are impressive for a second grader, but the water-from-the-eyes-trick was uncanny. "So you can cry?" I asked.

He nodded, then said, "Yeah."

"I can cry too," I said, humoring him.

I looked into the classroom to see how along the other testers were. Looking back, the boy was holding his nose tightly. His cheeks were tightly inflated under his eyes. I was just about to go inside the bungalow to get him a tissue when a drop of water collected in the inside corner of his right eye. I leaned my head in closer to make sure I saw it correctly. A bubble then formed followed by another one and I noticed my gaping jaw. The drop of water crawled down the side of his nose. More tiny bubbles gathered together before the boy released. He gathered his breath and wiped the foam from his eye. I was amazed.

With wide eyes and confounded creases on my forehead, I had to ask, "Where did you learn that?"

I was hoping for an answer like he and his brother were playing video games and the brother paused it and, in non-sequitur fashion, had asked, "Do you think you can make water come out of your eyes?" Where then the boy had shrugged and went cross-eyed, focusing with all his might, trying to build pressure. It was something he had worked on for days until finally he had achieved it with the right pressure hold.

But it wasn't so.

"One day, I was sick, and I was going to sneeze real hard," he puffed out his chest to demonstrate the sneeze's size, "and then I grabbed my nose to hold it and then water came shooting out of my eyes like fireballs." With quick extending arms and open hands, he showed the path that the water had flown.

"Like fireballs?"

"Uh huh. Like fireballs."