Read Online A Wind in the Door by Madeleine L'Engle - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Madeleine L'Engle
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a lovers’ meeting.”
Mrs. Murry turned away from her “idiot machine.” “I think I wish I’d never heard of farandolae, much less come to the conclusions—” She stopped abruptly, then said, “By the way, kids, I was rather surprised, just before
you all barged into the lab, to have Mr. Jenkins call to suggest that we give Charles Wallace lessons in selfdefense.”
Mr. Jenkins? Meg wondered. Aloud she said, “But Mr. Jenkins never calls parents. Parents have to go to him.” She almost asked, “Are you sure it was Mr. Jenkins?” And stopped herself as she remembered that she had not told Blajeny about the horrible Mr. Jenkins-not-Mr. Jenkins who had turned into a bird of nothingness, the Mr. Jenkins Louise had resented so fiercely. She should have told Blajeny; she would tell him first thing in the morning.
Charles Wallace climbed up onto one of the lab stools and perched close to his mother. “What I really need are lessons in adaptation. I’ve been reading Darwin, but he hasn’t helped me much.”
“See what we mean?” Calvin asked Dr. Louise. “That’s hardly what one expects from a six-year-old.”
“He really does read Darwin,” Meg assured the doctor.
“And I still haven’t learned how to adapt,” Charles Wallace added.
Dr. Louise was making a paste of cocoa, sugar, and a little hot water from one of Mrs. Murry’s retorts. “This is just water, isn’t it?” she asked.
“From our artesian well. The very best water.”
Dr. Louise added milk, little by little. “You kids are too young to remember, and your mother is a good ten
years younger than I am, but I’ll never forget, a great many years ago, when the first astronauts went to the moon, and I sat up all night to watch them.”
“I remember it all right,” Mrs. Murry said. “I wasn’t that young.”
Dr. Louise stirred the cocoa which was heating over a Bunsen burner. “Do you remember those first steps on the moon, so tentative to begin with, on that strange, airless, alien terrain? And then, in a short time, Armstrong and Aldrin were striding about confidently, and the commentator remarked on this as an extraordinary example of man’s remarkable ability to adapt.”
“But all they had to adapt to was the moon’s surface!” Meg objected. “It wasn’t inhabited. I’ll bet when our astronauts reach some place with inhabitants it won’t be so easy. It’s a lot simpler to adapt to low gravity, or no atmosphere, or even sandstorms, than it is to hostile inhabitants.”
Fortinbras, who had an uncanine fondness for cocoa, came padding out to the lab, his nose twitching in anticipation. He stood on his hind legs and put his front paws on Charles Wallace’s shoulders.
Dr. Colubra asked Meg, “Do you think the first-graders in the village school are hostile inhabitants, then?”
“Of course! Charles isn’t like them, and so they’re hostile towards him. People are always hostile to anybody who’s different.”
“Until they get used to him,” the doctor said.
“They’re not getting used to Charles.”
Charles Wallace, fondling the big dog, said, “Don’t forget to give Fort a saucer—he likes cocoa.”
“You have the strangest pets,” Dr. Louise said, but she poured a small dish of cocoa for Fortinbras. “I’ll let it cool a bit before I put it on the floor. Meg, we need mugs.”
“Okay.” Meg hurried off to the kitchen, collected a stack of mugs, and returned to the laboratory.
Dr. Louise lined them up and poured the cocoa. “Speaking of pets, how’s my namesake?”
Meg nearly spilled the cocoa she was handing to her mother. She looked closely at Dr. Louise, but though the question had seemed pointed, the little bird face showed nothing more than amused interest; as Charles Wallace said, Dr. Louise was very good at talking on one level and thinking on another.
Charles Wallace answered the question. “Louise the Larger is a magnificent snake. I wonder if she’d like some cocoa? Snakes
Mrs. Murry turned away from her “idiot machine.” “I think I wish I’d never heard of farandolae, much less come to the conclusions—” She stopped abruptly, then said, “By the way, kids, I was rather surprised, just before
you all barged into the lab, to have Mr. Jenkins call to suggest that we give Charles Wallace lessons in selfdefense.”
Mr. Jenkins? Meg wondered. Aloud she said, “But Mr. Jenkins never calls parents. Parents have to go to him.” She almost asked, “Are you sure it was Mr. Jenkins?” And stopped herself as she remembered that she had not told Blajeny about the horrible Mr. Jenkins-not-Mr. Jenkins who had turned into a bird of nothingness, the Mr. Jenkins Louise had resented so fiercely. She should have told Blajeny; she would tell him first thing in the morning.
Charles Wallace climbed up onto one of the lab stools and perched close to his mother. “What I really need are lessons in adaptation. I’ve been reading Darwin, but he hasn’t helped me much.”
“See what we mean?” Calvin asked Dr. Louise. “That’s hardly what one expects from a six-year-old.”
“He really does read Darwin,” Meg assured the doctor.
“And I still haven’t learned how to adapt,” Charles Wallace added.
Dr. Louise was making a paste of cocoa, sugar, and a little hot water from one of Mrs. Murry’s retorts. “This is just water, isn’t it?” she asked.
“From our artesian well. The very best water.”
Dr. Louise added milk, little by little. “You kids are too young to remember, and your mother is a good ten
years younger than I am, but I’ll never forget, a great many years ago, when the first astronauts went to the moon, and I sat up all night to watch them.”
“I remember it all right,” Mrs. Murry said. “I wasn’t that young.”
Dr. Louise stirred the cocoa which was heating over a Bunsen burner. “Do you remember those first steps on the moon, so tentative to begin with, on that strange, airless, alien terrain? And then, in a short time, Armstrong and Aldrin were striding about confidently, and the commentator remarked on this as an extraordinary example of man’s remarkable ability to adapt.”
“But all they had to adapt to was the moon’s surface!” Meg objected. “It wasn’t inhabited. I’ll bet when our astronauts reach some place with inhabitants it won’t be so easy. It’s a lot simpler to adapt to low gravity, or no atmosphere, or even sandstorms, than it is to hostile inhabitants.”
Fortinbras, who had an uncanine fondness for cocoa, came padding out to the lab, his nose twitching in anticipation. He stood on his hind legs and put his front paws on Charles Wallace’s shoulders.
Dr. Colubra asked Meg, “Do you think the first-graders in the village school are hostile inhabitants, then?”
“Of course! Charles isn’t like them, and so they’re hostile towards him. People are always hostile to anybody who’s different.”
“Until they get used to him,” the doctor said.
“They’re not getting used to Charles.”
Charles Wallace, fondling the big dog, said, “Don’t forget to give Fort a saucer—he likes cocoa.”
“You have the strangest pets,” Dr. Louise said, but she poured a small dish of cocoa for Fortinbras. “I’ll let it cool a bit before I put it on the floor. Meg, we need mugs.”
“Okay.” Meg hurried off to the kitchen, collected a stack of mugs, and returned to the laboratory.
Dr. Louise lined them up and poured the cocoa. “Speaking of pets, how’s my namesake?”
Meg nearly spilled the cocoa she was handing to her mother. She looked closely at Dr. Louise, but though the question had seemed pointed, the little bird face showed nothing more than amused interest; as Charles Wallace said, Dr. Louise was very good at talking on one level and thinking on another.
Charles Wallace answered the question. “Louise the Larger is a magnificent snake. I wonder if she’d like some cocoa? Snakes
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