Читать книгу Sigma Rising - John Randolph Price - Страница 4

The Chicago suburb of Arlington Heights,

September, 1954

The blue-eyed girl with the flaming red hair and milk-white complexion looked at herself in the full length mirror and sighed. "I do not know what to do with this hair. And these clothes do not feel right. Do you have any suggestions?"

The stocky man in his mid-forties standing beside her said, "You look fine." He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You're a bit taller than average for your age, and clothes won't hide that." He laughed. "Which means all the boys will look up to you." Seeing she wasn't amused, he said, "As for the hair, try a pony tail."

Seven year old Merriam Livingston pulled her hair back and fastened it with a clasp, then turned around and flashed a brief smile. "Shall I call you father?"

"Too formal. Let's use mommy and daddy, and pronounce your words carefully to veil the accent."

"Do not worry. In a short time I will be speaking as a true midwesterner. But you are right. The less notice I attract the better. Being adopted is going to cause enough talk. I am sure your neighbors have spread the word. The children will ask what happened to my real parents. Frankly, I do not want to get into any discussions about my past." She moved around him and sat on the bed to put on her shoes.

He was silent for a moment as he opened the curtains to her bedroom and looked out at the tree-lined street below. A hazy morning, the sun just breaking through. Weather forecast promised the low seventies by afternoon. Turning to her, he said, "School started a week ago, and coming in late you can't help but be the center of attention. But that will quickly pass, and in the meantime I would suggest you be the shy, silent type. If you're asked, just say that you'd rather not talk about your parents, that Charles and Anne Livingston are your family now."

"Did I hear my name mentioned?" Anne asked as she entered the room with a cup of coffee. She was wearing jeans, plaid shirt and sweater, the purse over her shoulder suggesting it was time to take Merriam to school.

"Just talking about handling her first encounter with the kids at school," Charles said. He smiled inwardly at the contrast between the two females. Anne a short-haired, brown-eyed diminutive blonde, and Merriam nearly as tall at seven years old with that shock of bright red hair and deep blue eyes.

Anne finished her last sip of coffee. "I don't see that as being a problem, but I would suggest that you watch and learn from the other children. For example, look at the way you're sitting, Merriam, straight as an arrow. Slump a little. Place your elbow on your knee and rest your head in your hand. Make your body appear lazy."

Merriam followed the directions, said with a grin, "I feel ridiculous. And I guess I should run and skip and chatter breathlessly on the playground, clap my hands frequently. What was it Epictetus said? Who is not attracted by bright and pleasant children, to prattle, to creep, and to play with them?"

Anne gave her a playful pat. "Yes, and don't forget to throw in a scream once in a while. Sniffle too. Runny noses are most child-like. Also, Merriam, watch what you say. A few slang words are appropriate. Just listen to how the others are expressing themselves, and don't sound too intelligent for your age."

Merriam stood and tucked the white blouse into the dark green skirt. "I feel as though I am playing a role on stage."

"And so you are," Charles said, a serious look on his face.

Merriam glanced at her watch and took a deep breath. "I guess it is time to go."

***

"Children," Mrs. Renfro said in a loud voice to break through the buzz of conversation and ripples of giggles, "take your seats now and be very quiet. We have a new student joining us today. Her name is Merriam Livingston, and I'm sure each one of you will make her feel welcome. Merriam, please stand and say hello to your classmates."

Merriam stood and nodded with a shy smile, then quickly sat down, feeling all eyes on her.

Mrs. Renfro said, "When we go out for recess, children, I want all of you to introduce yourselves to Merriam. She just moved to town, and I'm sure she's looking forward to making new friends."

The little blonde haired boy behind Merriam touched her shoulder and whispered, "My name's Bobby and my daddy's a policeman and carries a gun."

She turned back toward him, said, "My father owns a book store. When you are older you might enjoy browsing the shelves."

Bobby fell back in his seat, eyes squinting.

Merriam smiled to herself, then focused on what Mrs. Renfro was writing on the blackboard.

***

Charles Livingston picked up the ringing phone at his store. Hearing the voice he put the caller on hold and went into his private office and closed the door, quickly moving to the phone on his desk. He said, "I was expecting your call earlier. Anne took Merriam to school this morning, and by now I imagine she's settling in without difficulty. How about the others?"

A woman's voice on the other end said, "I have reports from ten of the twelve, and everything seems to be in order. I'll check on Carlton Matthews next." She paused. "Just remember, Charles, everything from home life, to school, and all regular childhood activities must appear as normal as possible."

"What about church?"

"Do what is socially accepted and go where the three of you would be most comfortable, probably one with a large congregation where you would blend in yet still be seen. You don't want to be singled out for participation in informal church gatherings."

"How often do you wish us to report to you?"

"As I've told the others, once a month for a year, then annually. Once Merriam leaves home to attend college, she's on her own, and you and Anne will have no further responsibility."

"I'll call you a month from today," Charles said as he turned the calendar and marked the date with the letter 'A'.

***

Although she was viewed by the other children as strange, shy, an egghead, and hesitant to join in games, she went through the school year without incident. It was spring, however, before she made any real friends. Debbie Nelson, one of the most popular girls in school, invited her over for a slumber party. From then on Merriam was accepted as part of the inner circle of Highlands Elementary School. She was beginning to enjoy the role of a typical youngster from an average American family.

The following summer while returning home from an outing on Lake Michigan, eight year old Merriam told her parents she wanted to have a birthday party. "Before school starts in September," she said from the back seat.

Charles moved to another lane to get away from a tail-gating eighteen wheeler, said, "Why do I have the feeling that you're not referring to the kind of party that would appeal to most kids your age?"

Merriam laughed. "And guess who I want to invite."

Anne looked back at the beaming child. "You can't be serious. I don't think it's a good idea to get you all together in one place. You might slip and be overheard by someone and--"

"I've already called for approval," Merriam said, brushing the sand off her legs. "It's okay if we meet on the island, but only for a day and a night. The date's been set, the eighteenth of this month."

"On the island?" Charles asked.

"Uh huh. The eighteenth is a Saturday. We could go over that day, spend the night, and return home on Sunday. What do you think?"

Anne grinned. "Since you have authorization and it's all arranged, I think it's a great idea!"

"Me too," Charles said, wishing he had thought of it.

***

The Livingston's arrived at mid-afternoon on the eighteenth, and were sipping iced tea in the large ultra-modern structure at one end of the island when the others appeared. After warm embraces and much chatter, the children put on their bathing suits and left together for a few hours of private time on the beach. The parents smiled approvingly as they watched the nine boys and three girls run through the dense green forest toward the water.

It was a beautiful day, a blue sky holding only the bright afternoon sun, not a cloud in sight, water lapping up on the sand in gentle waves prompted by a passing ferry. Frank Jessops reached the water first and high-stepped until knee deep, then dived under, the other children following. Playing as dolphins, someone might have thought as three boys suddenly burst forth from under water with a teammate balanced on strong shoulders, while the others took great leaps and dives in synchronous movements.

Back on the beach they stretched out on the sand side by side, laughing softly and gazing at the sky. From above, the scene could have been viewed as a canvas painted by a master artist, the children representing faultless specimens of the human family, each one proportionally perfect with exquisite features. A race of young gods from ancient mythology, such a painting might have been called.

"Let's make a circle," Carlton Matthews said as he took Merriam's hand. They quickly gathered around and began circling, the ring of happy, dancing children observed by a pleasure boat skimming across the water, the occupants waving, smiling. Faster and faster they ran, the sounds of laughter reaching a crescendo, and then fading as they collapsed on the sand and watched as their dizziness moved sky, sun, and trees in revolving patterns.

They lay there until Robert Ames thought of something else to do: tell each other about their new lives in America. He said, "My biggest problem was getting rid of the accent. It was only when I began to speak as though my nose was stopped up, like other New Yorkers, did people stop asking me where I was from."

"That wasn't my problem," Frank Jessops said as he lifted his long legs skyward. "The most difficult thing for me was to curtail my athletic abilities and appear average, at least to some extent. Many of the kids seem to be so uncoordinated. How about you, Merriam?"

She grinned, leaned over on an elbow. "It's been difficult keeping my mouth shut about the teaching methods being used. They're so crude you wonder how the children ever learn anything." She looked at Lisa Jackson. "What was your biggest hurdle?"

Lisa shook her head and frowned. "Getting used to the food, especially the weekend barbecues. The first time I was served a hot dog, I stared at it for a moment and walked away. My stomach still turns just thinking about it." She laughed. "The Sunday afternoon ritual later included hamburgers, steaks, shish kebabs, and spare ribs, with mostly casseroles served during the week. Mother said I should learn to eat everything so I'd fit in with the other neighborhood kids. I'm trying."

Merriam turned to Curtis O'Conner. The little blonde-haired boy with the tight curls looked away, then said, his voice soft, "I don't know about the rest of you, but I've been feeling lonely. I haven't made many friends and my parents are uncomfortable about me asking someone over to spend the night. All I do is go to school, read, listen to the radio, and wish I was back home. "

Claudia Andrade got up and walked across the circle to where he was sitting. She put her arms around him, said, "Curtis, call me anytime you're lonesome and we'll talk." She reached up and brushed a tear from his eye. "Believe it or not, you may be getting acclimated to conditions here faster than we are. I'm talking about the emotions, the tears. You've tapped into a collective sense of depression, which you can learn how to handle. We still have to do that. Now, if you want to cry, just go ahead and I'll hold you." She pulled the little eight-year-old boy close and let him weep openly. Finally Curtis drew back, rubbing his red eyes. "I'm okay now, feel much better. Thank you."

The other eleven softly clapped their hands, and Merriam said, "Let's go on around the circle. We can learn from each other." When the last one, Simon Ellenberg, had his say, the children discussed how helpful their adoptive parents were, the different local environments in which they were growing up, and their plans for the future. Then they fell silent once more and sat in a line together staring at the water, the late afternoon sun behind them casting warm rays on their beautifully tanned bodies.

Finally, as the sun dropped below the tree line, Carlton Matthews got up and made an imprint of his hand in the wet sand, saying, "May each one of you make your impression on mine, symbolically linking us once more as an unbreakable chain."

"Together as one,” spoke each child while pressing a palm into the sandy indentation.

***

The annual reunions on the island continued for several years, with numerous telephone contacts made during the school terms. Even though they lived in various parts of the country, the twelve were never out of touch with each other for long. When a boy asked Claudia Andrade for her first date, she delayed an answer until she could call Curtis O'Connor for advice on what would be expected. Curtis said he didn't know, to ask her parents. Soon the twelve were in coast-to-coast communication with each other on the topic of sex.

Other calls focused on how to handle IQ tests after two of them startled their teachers with supernormal scores, how to overcome periods of being homesick, and more talk about why the American people eat as they do. "It's not so much what they eat," Lisa Jackson said to Merriam on the phone from Dallas, "it's how much they eat. It is a wonder that everyone is not obese."

They also talked about the civil rights movement, hula-hoops, backyard bomb shelters, Elvis Presley, ridiculous television shows, the Beatles, and rock music.

In the summer of nineteen sixty-three, they applauded the Mercury 9 flight into space the previous May. With L. Gordon Cooper Jr. in the capsule, a 22-orbit endurance record was set while sending back the first TV pictures from space. From the wet sand Frank Jessops and Frederick Craig built a rocket and spacecraft poised for lift-off while others fashioned a large ball of sand to represent the moon.

Curtis O'Connor asked, "How long do you think it will be before the first astronaut walks on the lunar surface?"

"It will be in this decade," Merriam said, standing on the round mass of sand, "and I bet they land on the Sea of Tranquility."

"Why are they doing this?" Lisa asked. "It's going to cost billions of dollars, and probably some lives, and what will they have to show for their efforts?"

"Rocks from the moon eventually," Carlton Matthews said. "But the bottom line is to push through technological barriers and restructure scientific beliefs. Let them have their moments of glory and we'll celebrate with them. Remember what Shakespeare said, 'knowledge is the wing wherewith we fly to heaven'."

Lisa shook her head. "They're flying the wrong way if they want to get there."

"Have patience, Lisa," Simon Ellenberg said, "they're learning. Maybe one of these days they'll even move past the idea of the absolute existence of matter."

Claudia laughed. "And solve the quantum measurement problem."

"All things are possible," Simon said.

***

In November of that year they were shocked by the assassination of President Kennedy in Dallas. They wondered if their people would someday be mentioned in connection with a government cover-up.