Read Online Heartfire: The Tales of Alvin Maker, Volume V by Orson Scott Card - Free Book Online
Authors: Orson Scott Card
Ads: Link
Stuart’s body so that the Finders couldn’t claim him. Though Jean-Jacques seemed a decent enough fellow, it wouldn’t be good to have any witness who could affirm that Arthur really was the runaway slave the Finders had been looking for.
“But my question,” said Jean-Jacques, “is how you learn this language. You never
hear
this language, so how to learn it?”
“I
do
hear the language,” said Arthur. “I’m talking their language right back to them. I just have a really thick human accent.”
At this, Jean-Jacques burst out laughing, and so did Alvin. “Human accent,” Jean-Jacques repeated.
“It ain’t like the geese talk in words anyway,” said Arthur. “It’s more like, when I talk, I’m making the sound that says, Hi, I’m a goose, and then the rest of itsays things like, everything’s safe, or, quick let’s fly, or, hold still now. Not words. Just... wishes.”
“But there was a time,” said Alvin, “when I saw you talking to a redbird and it told you all kinds of stuff and it wasn’t just wishes, it was complicated.”
Arthur thought about it. “Oh, that time,” he finally said. “Well, that’s cause that redbird wasn’t talking redbird talk. He was talking English.”
“English!” said Alvin, incredulous.
“With a really thick redbird accent,” said Arthur. And this time all three of them laughed together.
As they neared Mistress Louder’s boardinghouse, they could see a burly man bounding out into the street, then returning immediately through the garden gate. “Is that a man or a big rubber ball?” asked Jean-Jacques.
“It’s Mr. Fink,” said Arthur Stuart. “I think he’s watching for us.”
“Or is it Gargantua?” asked Jean-Jacques.
“More like Pantagruel,” said Arthur Stuart.
Jean-Jacques stopped cold. Alvin and Arthur turned to look at him. “What’s wrong?” asked Alvin.
“The boy knows Rabelais?” asked Jean-Jacques.
“Who’s that?” asked Alvin.
“Alvin was asleep that day, too,” said Arthur Stuart.
Jean-Jacques looked back and forth between them. “You and you have attend to school together?”
Alvin knew what Audubon must be thinking—that Alvin must be a dunce to have gone to school at the same time as a child. “We had the same teacher,” said Alvin.
“And she taught us in the same room at the same time,” said Arthur Stuart.
“Only we didn’t always get the same lesson,” said Alvin.
“Yeah, I got Rabelais and Plato,” said Arthur Stuart, “and Alvin married the schoolteacher.”
Jean-Jacques laughed out loud. “That is so pleasant!Your wife is a schoolteacher but this slaveboy is the top student!”
“Reckon so, except one thing,” said Alvin. “The boy is free.”
“Oh yes, I’m sorry. I mean to say, this Black boy.”
“Half-Black,” Arthur Stuart corrected him.
“Which make you half-White,” said Jean-Jacques. “But when I look at you, I see only the Black half. Is this not curious?”
“When Black folks look at me,” said Arthur Stuart, “they see only the White half.”
“But the secret about you,” said Jean-Jacques, “is that deep in your heart,
you know Rabelais
!”
“What does that have to do with Black and White?” asked Alvin.
“It have to do that all this Black and White just make this boy laugh inside. When you are laughing deep down where no one else can see, Rabelais is there. Yes, Arthur Stuart?”
“Rabelais,” said Alvin. “Was that the book about the big huge fat guy?”
“So you did read it?”
“No,” said Alvin. “I got embarrassed and gave it back to Miz Lamer. Margaret, I mean. You can’t talk about things like that with a lady!”
“Ah,” said Jean-Jacques. “Your schoolteacher began as Miz Lamer, but now she is Margaret. Next you will call her ‘mama,’ n’est-ce pas?”
Alvin got a little tight-lipped at that. “Maybe you French folks like to read nasty books and all, but in America you don’t go talking about a man’s wife having
“But my question,” said Jean-Jacques, “is how you learn this language. You never
hear
this language, so how to learn it?”
“I
do
hear the language,” said Arthur. “I’m talking their language right back to them. I just have a really thick human accent.”
At this, Jean-Jacques burst out laughing, and so did Alvin. “Human accent,” Jean-Jacques repeated.
“It ain’t like the geese talk in words anyway,” said Arthur. “It’s more like, when I talk, I’m making the sound that says, Hi, I’m a goose, and then the rest of itsays things like, everything’s safe, or, quick let’s fly, or, hold still now. Not words. Just... wishes.”
“But there was a time,” said Alvin, “when I saw you talking to a redbird and it told you all kinds of stuff and it wasn’t just wishes, it was complicated.”
Arthur thought about it. “Oh, that time,” he finally said. “Well, that’s cause that redbird wasn’t talking redbird talk. He was talking English.”
“English!” said Alvin, incredulous.
“With a really thick redbird accent,” said Arthur. And this time all three of them laughed together.
As they neared Mistress Louder’s boardinghouse, they could see a burly man bounding out into the street, then returning immediately through the garden gate. “Is that a man or a big rubber ball?” asked Jean-Jacques.
“It’s Mr. Fink,” said Arthur Stuart. “I think he’s watching for us.”
“Or is it Gargantua?” asked Jean-Jacques.
“More like Pantagruel,” said Arthur Stuart.
Jean-Jacques stopped cold. Alvin and Arthur turned to look at him. “What’s wrong?” asked Alvin.
“The boy knows Rabelais?” asked Jean-Jacques.
“Who’s that?” asked Alvin.
“Alvin was asleep that day, too,” said Arthur Stuart.
Jean-Jacques looked back and forth between them. “You and you have attend to school together?”
Alvin knew what Audubon must be thinking—that Alvin must be a dunce to have gone to school at the same time as a child. “We had the same teacher,” said Alvin.
“And she taught us in the same room at the same time,” said Arthur Stuart.
“Only we didn’t always get the same lesson,” said Alvin.
“Yeah, I got Rabelais and Plato,” said Arthur Stuart, “and Alvin married the schoolteacher.”
Jean-Jacques laughed out loud. “That is so pleasant!Your wife is a schoolteacher but this slaveboy is the top student!”
“Reckon so, except one thing,” said Alvin. “The boy is free.”
“Oh yes, I’m sorry. I mean to say, this Black boy.”
“Half-Black,” Arthur Stuart corrected him.
“Which make you half-White,” said Jean-Jacques. “But when I look at you, I see only the Black half. Is this not curious?”
“When Black folks look at me,” said Arthur Stuart, “they see only the White half.”
“But the secret about you,” said Jean-Jacques, “is that deep in your heart,
you know Rabelais
!”
“What does that have to do with Black and White?” asked Alvin.
“It have to do that all this Black and White just make this boy laugh inside. When you are laughing deep down where no one else can see, Rabelais is there. Yes, Arthur Stuart?”
“Rabelais,” said Alvin. “Was that the book about the big huge fat guy?”
“So you did read it?”
“No,” said Alvin. “I got embarrassed and gave it back to Miz Lamer. Margaret, I mean. You can’t talk about things like that with a lady!”
“Ah,” said Jean-Jacques. “Your schoolteacher began as Miz Lamer, but now she is Margaret. Next you will call her ‘mama,’ n’est-ce pas?”
Alvin got a little tight-lipped at that. “Maybe you French folks like to read nasty books and all, but in America you don’t go talking about a man’s wife having
Similar Books
