'But you didn't tell Walton, or Larsen, for example, when or where or how death would eventually come?' Nicholson pressed.
'No. I did not,' Teddy said firmly. 'I wouldn't have told them any of that stuff, but they kept talking about it. Professor Walton sort of started it. He said he really wished he knew when he was going to die, because then he'd know what work he should do and what work he shouldn't do, and how to use his time to his best advantage, and all like that.
And then they all said that . . . So I told them a little bit.'
Nicholson didn't say anything.
'I didn't tell them when they were actually going to die, though.
That's a very false rumor,' Teddy said. 'I could have, but I knew that in their hearts they really didn't want to know. I mean I knew that even though they teach Religion and Philosophy and all, they're still pretty afraid to die.' Teddy sat, or reclined, in silence for a minute. 'It's so silly,' he said. 'All you do is get the heck out of your body when you die. My gosh, everybody's done it thousands and thousands of times.
Just because they don't remember it doesn't mean they haven't done it.
It's so silly.'
'That may be. That may be,' Nicholson said. 'But the logical fact remains that no matter how intelligently--'
'It's so silly,' Teddy said again. 'For example, I have a swimming lesson in about five minutes. I could go downstairs to the pool, and there might not be any water in it. This might be the day they change the water or something. What might happen, though, I might walk up to the edge of it, just to have a look at the bottom, for instance, and my sister might come up and sort of push me in. I could fracture my skull and die instantaneously.' Teddy looked at Nicholson. 'That could happen,' he said. 'My sister's only six, and she hasn't been a human being for very many lives, and she doesn't like me very much. That could happen, all right. What would be so tragic about it, though? What's there to be afraid of, I mean? I'd just be doing what I was supposed to do, that's all, wouldn't I?'
Nicholson snorted mildly. 'It might not be a tragedy from your point of view, but it would certainly be a sad event for your mother and dad,' he said 'Ever consider that?'
'Yes, of course, I have,' Teddy said. 'But that's only because they have names and emotions for everything that happens.' He had been keeping his hands tucked under his legs again. He took them out now, put his arms up on the armrests, and looked at Nicholson. 'You know Sven?
The man that takes care of the gym?' he asked. He waited till he got a nod from Nicholson. 'Well, if Sven dreamed tonight that his dog died, he'd have a very, very bad night's sleep, because he's very fond of that dog. But when he woke up in the morning, everything would be all right.
He'd know it was only a dream.'
Nicholson nodded. 'What's the point, exactly?'
'The point is if his dog really died, it would be exactly the same thing. Only, he wouldn't know it. I mean he wouldn't wake up till he died himself.' Nicholson, looking detached, was using his right hand to give himself a slow, sensuous massage at the back of the neck. His left hand, motionless on the armrest, with a fresh, unlighted cigarette between the fingers, looked oddly white and inorganic in the brilliant sunlight.
Teddy suddenly got up. 'I really have to go now, I'm afraid,' he said. He sat down, tentatively, on the extended leg attachment of his chair, facing Nicholson, and tucked in his T shirt. 'I have about one and a half minutes, I guess, to get to my swimming lesson,' he said.
'It's all the way down on E Deck.'
'May I ask why you told Professor Peet he should stop teaching after the first of the year?' Nicholson asked, rather bluntly. 'I know Bob Peet. That's why I ask.'
Teddy tightened his alligator belt. 'Only because he's quite spiritual, and he's teaching a lot of stuff right now that isn't very good for him if he wants to make any real spiritual advancement. It stimulates him too much. It's time for him to take everything out of his head, instead of putting more stuff in. He could get rid of a lot of the apple in just this one life if he wanted to. He's very good at meditating.' Teddy got up. 'I better go now. I don't want to be too late.'
Nicholson looked up at him, and sustained the look--detaining him.
'What would you do if you could change the educational system?' he asked ambiguously. 'Ever think about that at all?'
'I really have to go,' Teddy said.
'Just answer that one question,' Nicholson said. 'Education's my baby, actually--that's what I teach. That's why I ask.'
'Well . . . I'm not too sure what I'd do,' Teddy said. 'I know I'm pretty sure I wouldn't start with the things schools usually start with.' He folded his arms, and reflected briefly. 'I think I'd first just assemble all the children together and show them how to meditate.
I'd try to show them how to find out who they are, not just what their names are and things like that . . . I guess, even before that, I'd get them to empty out everything their parents and everybody ever told them.
I mean even if their parents just told them an elephant's big, I'd make them empty that out. An elephant's only big when it's next to something else--a dog or a lady, for example.' Teddy thought another moment. 'I wouldn't even tell them an elephant has a trunk. I might show them an elephant, if I had one handy, but I'd let them just walk up to the elephant not knowing anything more about it than the elephant knew about them. The same thing with grass, and other things. I wouldn't even tell them grass is green. Colors are only names. I mean if you tell them the grass is green, it makes them start expecting the grass to look a certain way--your way--instead of some other way that may be just as good, and may be much better . . . I don't know. I'd just make them vomit up every bit of the apple their parents and everybody made them take a bite out of.'
'There's no risk you'd be raising a little generation of ignoramuses?'
'Why? They wouldn't any more be ignoramuses than an elephant is. Or a bird is. Or a tree is,' Teddy said. 'Just
