The office smelled like money. Brand new carpet, somebody's expensive perfume still hanging in the air. The chairs in the waiting room are leather and the copy machine has a million attachments and there's pictures on the wall that I don't know what they're supposed to be. Made me ashamed of the shirt I was wearing, the cuffs all frayed and some of the buttons don't match. The secretary is a knockout and I figure Dennis has got to be getting in her pants. Red hair and freckles and shiny skin that looks like she just got out of a hot shower. A smile like she really means it. My name was in the book and she showed me right on in. Dennis shook my hand and put me in a chair that was slings and tube steel. The calendar next to his desk had a ski scene on it. Behind him was solid books, law books all in the same binding, also some biographies and political stuff. "Too bad you couldn't make the reunion," Dennis said. "It was a hoot." "I just felt weird about it," I said. I still did. It looked like he wanted me to go on, so I said, "I knew there'd be a bunch of y'all there that had really made good, and I guess I...I don't know. Didn't want to have to make excuses." "Hard to believe it's been twenty years. You look good. I still wouldn't want to run into you in a dark alley, but you look fit. In shape." "I got weights in the garage, I try to work out. When you're my size you can go to hell pretty quick. You look like you're doing pretty good yourself." Charlene is always pointing to people on TV and talking about the way they dress. With Dennis I could see for the first time what she's talking about. The gray suit he had on looked like part of him, like it was alive. When I think about him in grungy sweats back at Thomas Jefferson High School, bent double from trying to run laps, it doesn't seem like the same guy. Question: Who had a gray suit on? Options: - not enough information - The narrator - Dennis - The secretary === The correct answer is
Dennis

In the 1970s I was a student nurse in psychiatry. I was rostered to the brain injury ward in a chronic hospital, where the patients had severe brain damage from tumours, car accidents, strokes, metabolic diseases, degenerative diseases, and alcoholism. Only about half were ambulant. Most had severely impacted recent and long term memories. They could not bathe or feed themselves. The majority sat most of the day in chairs lined along the sides of the day room. They were spoon-fed meals and wheeled into the toilet. One of those patients was Connie S. She was maybe 55 yrs old and she spent a lot of the day screaming in her chair. She could not speak, walk, or cooperate. One nurse was very impatient with her and once I heard that nurse say to her, "You think the water is too hot, do you? Then have it cold!" as she bathed her in cold water. I remember standing up for her to that nurse. I worked that ward for over a year and then, one day, just like that, Connie S. woke up. She suddenly began speaking and walking. She apparently remembered most of the things had had happened to her in the ward. Soon, she walked right out of that ward and never came back. As she left, she appeared dignified and so happy, so relieved. I was too junior at that stage to know what her diagnosis was supposed to have been, but no-one expected her ever to leave. No-one left that ward. It was the end of the line. I remember being really glad that I had stood up for her and thinking how ashamed the nasty nurse must have been. It is now many years later and I often think of this woman and wonder how she fared in her post-hospital life. Her name is not common, but every so often I meet people with the same name and ask them if they know of a relative to whom this happened, but, so far, no-one has known of her. Question: Why was the ward nurse impatient? Options: - not enough information - Because Connie complained about the water temperature - Because Connie was old - Because Connie had someone defending her === The correct answer is
Because Connie complained about the water temperature

Light dappled through the trees in the family courtyard, painting shadows on the paving stones. Li Reiko knelt by her son to look at his scraped knee. "I just scratched it." Nawi squirmed under her hands. Her daughter, Aya, leaned over her shoulder studying the healing. "Maybe Mama will show you her armor after she heals you." Nawi stopped wiggling. "Really?" Reiko shot Aya a warning look, but her little boy's dark eyes shone with excitement. Reiko smiled. "Really." What did tradition matter? "Now let me heal your knee." She laid her hand on the shallow wound. "Ow." "Shush." Reiko closed her eyes and rose in the dark space within her mind. In her mind's eye, Reiko took her time with the ritual, knowing it took less time than it appeared. In a heartbeat, green fire flared out to the walls of her mind. She dissolved into it as she focused on healing her son. When the wound closed beneath her hand, she sank to the surface of her mind. "There." She tousled Nawi's hair. "That wasn't bad, was it?" "It tickled." He wrinkled his nose. "Will you show me your armor now?" She sighed. She should not encourage his interest in the martial arts. His work would be with the histories that men kept, and yet... "Watch." Pulling the smooth black surface out of the ether, she manifested her armor. It sheathed her like silence in the night. Aya watched with obvious anticipation for the day when she earned her own armor. Nawi's face, full of sharp yearning for something he would never have, cut Reiko's heart like a new blade. "Can I see your sword?" She let her armor vanish back into thought. "No." Reiko brushed his hair from his eyes. "It's my turn to hide, right?" Question: Reiko's armor was visible for: Options: - a few days - a few hours - a few moments - not enough information === The correct answer is
a few moments