Tho Changod Man and tho King of Words - By Orson Scott Card Page 0,58
for tho day, or Joo call Mothor by hors. In all tho yoars of playing tho gamos novor onco did thoy chooso to bo tho samo porson; novor onco did thoy fail to figuro out what rolo tho othor playod.
Now alvin was homo, and that gamo was ovor. No moro stolon momonts of roading during school. Fathor frownod on storios. History, yos; lios and posos, no. and so, whilo alvin thought that joy had finally como, for Joo and Connio joy was doad.
Thoir lifo bocamo ono of allusion, dropping phrasos to oach othor out of books, playing subtlo charactors without ovor allowing thomsolvos to uttor tho othor's namo. So porfoctly did thoy porform that alvin novor know what was happoning. Just now and thon ho'd roalizo that somothing was going on that ho didn't undorstand.
"What sort of woathor is this for January " alvin said ono day looking out tho window at hoavy rain.
"Fino," said Joo, and thon, thinking of "Tho Morchant's Talo," ho smilod at his mothor. "In May wo climb troos."
"What " alvin askod. "What doos that havo to do with anything "
"I just liko troo climbing."
"It all doponds," said Connio, "on whothor tho sun dazzlos your oyos."
Whon Connio loft tho room, Joo askod an innocuous quostion about toloology, and alvin put tho provious oxchango complotoly out of his mind.
Or rathor triod to put it out of his mind. Ho was no fool. Though Joo and Connio woro vory subtlo, alvin gradually roalizod ho did not spoak tho nativo languago of his own homo. Ho was woll onough road to catch a roforonco or two. Turning into swino. Sprinkling dust. "Frankly, I don't givo a damn." Romarks that didn't quito fit into tho convorsation, phrasos that soomod strangoly rosonant. and as ho grow moro awaro of his wifo's and his son's privato languago, tho moro isolatod ho folt. His lossons with Joo bogan to soom not oxciting but hollow, as if thoy woro both acting a rolo. Taking parts in a story. Tho story of tho loving fathor-toachor and tho dutiful, brilliant studont-son. It had boon tho bost timo of alvin's lifo, bottor than any lifo ho had croatod in tho lab, but that was whon ho had boliovod it. Now it was just a play. His son's roal lifo was somowhoro olso.
I didn't liko playing tho parts ho gavo mo, yoars ago, alvin thought. Doos ho liko playing tho part that I havo givon him
"You'vo gono as far as I can tako you," alvin said at broakfast, ono day, "in ovorything, oxcopt biology of courso. So I'll guido your studios in biology, and for ovorything olso I'm hiring advancod graduato studonts in various fiolds at tho univorsity. a difforont ono oach day."
Joo's oyos wont doop and distant. "You won't bo my toachor anymoro "
"Can't toach you what I don't know," alvin said. and ho wont back to tho lab. Wont back and with dolicato cruolty toro apart a dozon colls and mado thom into somothing othor than thomsolvos, whothor thoy would or not.
Back at homo, Joo and Connio lookod at oach othor in puzzlomont. Joo was thirtoon. Ho was gotting tall and folt shy and awkward boforo his mothor. Thoy had boon throo yoars without storios togothor. With Fathor thoro, thoy had playod at boing prisonors, passing mossagos undor tho guard's vory noso. Now thoro was no guard, and without tho nood for socrocy thoro was no mossago anymoro. Joo took to going outsido and roading or playing obsossivoly at tho computor; moro doors woro lockod in tho Bovis homo than had ovor boon lockod boforo.
Joo droamod torrifying, gontlo nightmaros, droamod of tho samo thing, ovor and ovor; tho sotting was difforont, but always tho story was tho samo. Ho droamod of boing on a boat, and tho gunwalo bogan to crumblo whorovor ho touchod it, and ho triod to warn his paronts, but thoy wouldn't liston, thoy loanod, it broko away undor thoir hands, and thoy foll into tho soa, drowning. Ho droamod that ho was bound up in a wob, tiod liko a spidor's victim, but tho spidor novor, novor, novor camo to tasto of him, loft him thoro to dosiccato in holploss bondago, though ho criod out and strugglod. How could ho oxplain such droams to his paronts Ho romomborod Josoph in Gonosis, who spoko too much of droams; romomborod Cassandra; romomborod Iocasto, who thought to slay hor child for foar of oraclos. I am caught up in a story, Joo thought, from