The Anything Box

'Goes,' said Blond. 'Miss Leaven, Mr. Kaprockanze, and Miss Robbin—'
Red glanced quickly over at Blond as his voice dropped. 'And Her,' he said.
'Do we hafta take Her?' asked Blond. 'This would be an awful good time toget rid of Her.'
'We can't,' said Red. 'It's total. Anyway, do good to those whodespitefully use you and persecute you and do all manner of evil against youunjustly—'
'Goes,' said Blond. 'I learned that, too, but you said it wrong.'
'Well, we hafta anyway,' said Red. 'Now. Ready?' The three boys lookedsolemnly at one another. Then their eyes closed, their intent faces turnedupward and their lips moved silently.
Blond spoke. His voice was shaken with desolation that seemed almost real.'Will there be time?' he choked.
'Yes,' said Red. 'We'll have five days. If we can fair-the-coorze by then,we’ll make it. Ready?'
Again, that short pause and then Red put his forefinger on the roof of thevehicle that headed the column and nudged it forward slowly over an almostunnoticeable line that was apparently meant for a road. The two other boysbegan nudging the other vehicles along.
I turned and left them, caught by something in their foolish play: MissLeaven, Mr. Kaprockanze and Miss Robbin—I felt a sudden sick twang inside methat I thought I had long outgrown. Such foolishness to be upset by children'snonsense. But the roll call echoed in my head again. Miss Leaven, Mr.Kaprockanze and Miss Robbin. My name is Esther Corvin. I must be Her.
As is my invariable practice, at dismissal I left school at school andretired immediately to my quarters. I spent the evening playing bridge in theQuarters Lounge with a number of the other civilian employees of the Base and,near midnight, stood in my gown at my window looking out on the Argaviannight—which is truly splendid with three colored moons and a sky crowded withtight clusters of brilliant stars.
Quite uncharacteristically, I lingered at the window until I was shiveringin the heavily scented Argavian breeze. Then I suddenly found myself leaningfar out over the sill, trying to catch a glimpse of the corner of the schoolyard, madly wondering if those vehicles were toiling minutely forward throughthe Argavian night. Something must be wrong with me, I thought. And took ananti-vir before I went to bed.
I had no idea that the incident would be prolonged. Consequently I was
ABC Amber Palm Converter,http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
astonished and mildly annoyed to see the three boys huddled in the corner thenext morning. I determinedly stayed away from them, even going so far as toturn one end of jump rope for some of the girls to divert my attention. Myhelpfulness was more of a hindrance. The children were so startled by my offerthat none of them could jump more than twice without missing. Finally, theystood dumbly looking at each other with red-splotched cheeks, so Irelinquished the rope and left them. I drifted over to the corner to see—tofind out—well, bluntly, I was irresistibly drawn to the corner.
Blond was knuckling tears out of his eyes. Tears in public? From a boy hisage?
'You didn't hafta—' he choked.
'Did so,' said Red, his face shadowed and unhappy. 'It's the coorze, can'tyou see? Besides, I didn't do it. It just will be—'
The two sat staring at a vehicle that had been smashed under the fall of aplum-sized pebble that had rolled down the side of a miniature ravine. Brownwas busy nudging another vehicle very slowly along the precarious rim of theroad that edged around the pebble.
'Goes,' said Blond. 'But they were our best friends—'
'Goes,' said Red, blinking and sniffling quickly. Then briskly: 'Get therest of them around there now. We hafta get to The Knoll before night.'
I don't know what possessed me then. I almost ran to the office and rangthe bell five minutes early. 'There!' I thought triumphantly as I jabbed thebutton. 'It's night and you didn't get to The Knoll.'
I was ashamed of myself all the rest of the day. I pride myself on being apractical, down-to-earth sort of person—and for me to be rocked by such utternonsense! Actually to feel that I was participating in such foolishness!
That night in Quarters, I tried to analyze the situation. What were theboys doing? Did boys customarily make themselves so much a part of their playthat they wept over their games? Why did I react so strongly that I wascompelled to participate?
I lay in the dark staring up at the ceiling patterned by the glow of themoons and found my pulses insisting The Knoll, The Knoll, The Knoll. I probeddeep into my memory. What did The Knoll connote to me? But try as I would, Icould make it mean nothing more than a picnic spot we sometimes visited out inthe obsidian hills behind the Base. There was a knob of solid volcanic glassthere called The Knoll. A small spring spilled the orangy water of Argave intoa shallow pool next to the picnic flat. It was reached by a road—Evac 2—thathad such a reputation that any bad stretch of highway was (most regrettably)referred to as a knollful road.
Well, it was possible. The boys had probably been on picnics there.Apparently they were borrowing terminology freely.
Next day—the third day—was rainy, rainy with the needle-like, orangydownpour that has been known to draw blood. One glance at the sky told me itwas to be an all-day affair. Argavian clouds never blow away. They spendthemselves completely in rain. Grimly I put on my raineralls, which cover onefrom head to foot with even a plastic shield over the face, a curtain effectwith the bottom loose for ventilation. I half sloshed, half waded to school.The children were helling in, their bright raineralls splotching the dullbrown sky with color. Since they were completely shielded from the dampness bythe raineralls, there was no need for them to go indoors if they didn't chooseto, which meant that most of them stayed outdoors and I had to be on groundduty, rain or no rain.
I was extremely annoyed—especially since some rain had splashed my face andthe loathsome taste of it was on my lips and I had no way to wipe it off untilI could take off the raineralls. The children were excited and overstimulated by the weather and ran purposelessly all over the playground. Finally someoneorganized a game of 'Who's Your Love?' and raced around, laughing, catchingindividuals in their circle and chanting: 'Who's your lover? Tell his name. Ifyou will not, Shame, shame, shame!' In their mad excitement, they even circled
ABC Amber Palm Converter,http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
me, chanting and laughing until someone realized whom they had captured. Thenthey shrieked and ran, scattering like frightened quail, someone's wordsfloating back to me: 'Somebody loves Her?'
I was unaccountably stung by the words, however fitting they might be, andturned and sloshed across the playground to the corner. I felt a surge of furyas I saw the three boys bent over their game. I stepped closer, wishingfuriously that I could topple them over with a well-placed shove of my foot.Why did they never sense my presence? I saw that they were concentrating onferrying their vehicles across a tiny raging torrent that cut the vestigialroad in two, the dirty threads they were using alternately slacking andtightening.
'If we coulda got past there yesterday,' said Brown, 'it woulda been goes.But that dang bell rang.'
'Yes,' said Red, his eyes hooded behind the plastic shield. 'It musta beenthe coorze.'
Blond nudged the miniature ferry, a rough bundle of twigs and bits of wood,with his finger. One tiny splinter broke away and swept down the torrent.'Maybe it won't last,' he said. 'Maybe we oughta wait until the rain stops.'
'Can't,' said Red. 'This is the third day. Only got two days torendezvous.' He turned fiercely on Blond. 'Unless you want to give up and leteveryone die!'
'We could tell ahead,' whimpered Blond. 'Our dads—'
'Wouldn't believe us,' whispered Red, his eyes shuttering. 'They've neverfaired-the-coorze. How many more to go?'
'Four,' said Brown. 'And two have been drownded already.'
'Anybody get out?' asked Blond.
'Only Butch,' whimpered Brown. 'I pushed him in with the Scotts.'
'We're not across yet.' Blond's voice shook. 'Will we make it?'
'Start across,' said Red.