told to avoid her strictly from now on. I could see that Mr. Mitchell had been hurt, but I didn’t really understand why. It was spelled out for us. I had been looking at it from my point of view, that he was in our way and might have stopped us if we had just tried to ask for the suits. I hadn’t seen things from his angle at all. That we had used him the way you use a handkerchief. I’ve always thought more in terms of things than of people, and I’m sometimes slow to put myself in somebody else’s shoes. When I did, I wasn’t happy about what I’d done—which I think was Daddy’s intention.
They didn’t question us about who used the third suit, but they did point out how stupid and dangerous it had been for us to go outside.
“I suppose I ought to be pleased by your initiative,” Daddy said, “but what I think about is the permanent damage to your sense of balance that might well have resulted if you two hadn’t come back inside in time. You might never have been able to move again without suffering vertigo.”
The thought alone was enough to make me queasy.
Daddy finished by settling a punishment of not being able to go anywhere for a month. For a month, after class with Mr. Mbele or Survival Class, I had to come straight home and stay there. Miss Brancusik then and there meted out the same restriction to Jimmy.
In some ways, that was the hardest month I ever spent, cooped up in the apartment and not able to go anywhere. Sitting at home when other people were free to come and go, free to play soccer, to go folk dancing at night, or to sit around the Common Room while Jimmy and I had to go check in. In other ways, it wasn’t entirely a loss. For one thing, it gave me time to think about my character deficiencies. I didn’t think of them in those terms, but I did determine not to be any more stupid than was absolutely necessary, which is much the same thing. Also, since we were both stuck in our own homes, Jimmy and I did quite a lot of talking and I got to know him better.
The first thing we did when our month was over was to go to Salvage, detouring around Mrs. Keithley, and apologize to Mr. Mitchell. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I never wore my pin until I was back on good terms with him. Then it was all right.
Chapter 11
WE RECEIVED OUR AUTOMATIC PROMOTIONS from Sixth Class to Fifth in the fall when First Class went off on Trial and another group of younger kids began training. Through the fall, as we approached the end of our first six months of training, we one-by-one turned thirteen. Not only was I the smallest one in the class—not that I minded, since being cute little black-haired Mia Havero never hurt anything—but my birthday was last. It came, as always, on Saturday, November 29. One of the advantages of a permanent calendar is that it gives you something to count on.
On my birthday, Mother made a special trip to see us—well, she spent the day with Daddy. She presented me with one of her sculptures and I thanked her politely. She didn’t like being thanked, for some reason—and I assure you that I was nice—and left the room.
Daddy, who isn’t always as single-minded or as busy as you might think, had done something that I would never have thought of. He’d called the library and they made a search of all their recordings and sent him a fair copy of no less than five pennywhistle records. I once, believe it or not, went through a stage of thinking the Andrew Johnson books were all mine and nobody else knew about them, and it was something of a shock to learn that they did. The pennywhistle records that Daddy gave me didn’t produce quite the same feeling of losing something private, but I would never have dreamed that anyone would ever have recorded pennywhistle music. I thanked Daddy and kissed his cheek. I had never been able to be demonstrative when I was younger, but since we had moved to Geo Quad somehow it came easier, like a lot of things.
The biggest surprise of my birthday was Jimmy D. He asked me to go to