The Human Son - Adrian J. Walker Page 0,84

what we are achieving, this higher purpose with which we have been blessed.’

‘I have my purpose too.’

She drifted across the road and stood before me.

‘And where is he?’

You were with Jorne as usual. At least I thought you were.

‘I don’t… I mean I’m not—’

‘You don’t know. I know exactly where Jakob is all the time. I can feel him with me wherever I go.’

‘Reed needs his freedom. If he is to persuade the council of humanity’s right to endure, then he must explore his own humanity.’

‘Yes, I see, by wandering through forests and floating on a plank in the sea, I suppose?’

‘Doing what in the sea?’

‘You have not seen them? Him and that poor man who lusts after you? I saw them in the cove south of Tokyo. They take turns paddling out on a long plank and trying to ride it back on the breaking wave. A strange object, almost—’ her eyes narrowed ‘—almost as if it did not belong here. What could that mean, do you think?’

My heart gave a sick flutter as I realised what she was talking about—the tall, finned surfboard that stood in the corner of the Room of Things

‘I have no idea what you are talking about.’

‘No, that is very clear, because you do not know where he is or what he is doing from day to day. And this is your idea of purpose.’

My eyes dropped. She was right.

‘Do you know what they are saying about him?’ she went on.

‘What?’

‘That he is slow at school, unable to keep up with the others, and they’re not trying hard, Ima, you must know that. They say he spends most of his time staring out of the window, distracted, elsewhere. And he smells atrocious, and he is awkward to be around, and he stares. Some of the girls no longer like to be around him, they say he makes them feel uncomfortable.’

‘He is friends with Zadie,’ I said, hopefully.

‘Ah yes, Zadie. Pretty Zadie. I am sure he is glad of her friendship. You really have no idea what is happening to him, do you? You have no idea of the changes he’s going through.’

‘I know about puberty,’ I said.

‘Clearly not enough to see the signs. You’re too busy drifting about on pointless balloon trips of becoming insensible on that dreadful drink.’ She sneered. ‘I can smell it on you now.’

Trembling, I raised a hand to my mouth, trying to catch wind of my breath.

‘The way you cling to this world, Ima, this flesh.’ She spoke slowly, the words drawn out like stretched gauze. ‘It bewilders me. Existence is so much more than this, and it is almost in our grasp. Can’t you tell.’ She turned back to me. ‘Can’t you feel it?’

I had no words, so I spoke none.

‘No,’ she said, closing up. ‘It seems you cannot. I have to go.’

With that she turned and made for Ertanea.

HARALIA WAS RIGHT; a change had come over you, and it was not just evident in the hair on your face or the broadening of your chest. You had become gripped by a foul sullenness and fidgeted constantly, as if you were prey to some furious itch that would give you no peace. And yes, you did stare out of windows, and seem not to hear your own name. And yes, you had started to spend more time in the room—the old wood store, which we had cleared and furnished with a bed I had constructed from pine. And yes, you had started to smell.

And so had your sheets.

One evening I decided to broach the subject of your hygiene and walked into your room to find you in a state of undress upon the bed. At my appearance you flushed and curled into a ball to conceal your genitals which, in the brief time I had to appraise them, I noticed had grown hair too. Furthermore they were extremely engorged, and you had been fondling them furiously.

‘Ah,’ I said. ‘I see you are masturbating.’

‘Can’t you knock!’ you cried out, falsetto, as you struggled with your undergarments.

‘I have never had to knock before.’

‘Well you need to now!’

You sat with your back turned, hunched upon the bed.

‘Look at me,’ I said.

You remained silent.

‘Look at me,’ I repeated, louder.

‘No,’ you yelled, still facing the wall, engulfed in a cloud of shame.

‘It is nothing to be embarrassed about,’ I said. ‘Every mammal experiences such desires, and seeking release from them is perfectly natural.’

‘Ima, please.’

‘Everything is perfectly natural.’

You turned, face red with rage.

‘Just get

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