[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

"Suppose you tell me how you account for your being so different from your
cousins and from other children."
"Right now I'm not sure about that. Tim says it's the radiations. But I don't
understand such things. I had a theory worked out, but " Her voice trailed off
into silence and she looked doubtfully at Peter.
"I'd like very much to hear it," said the psychiatrist.
"I'm not sure you would understand."
"I'll try." Humanly speaking, there was nothing Peter Welles loathed so much
as a person's assuming that he or she was too wonderfully unique to be
understood. Professionally he was used to it.
"Timothy said that if nobody else thinks the way you do, you must be wrong."
"Well, suppose you tell me what your theory was, and how you came to formulate
it, and what reasoning and evidence support it, and what is against it,"
suggested Peter encouragingly. He scratched a match and gave his attention to
his pipe for a moment. The child spent the moment in concentrated thought.
"Cutting out inspiration made things a little simpler," she said, "but there
are still so many complications and alternatives; perhaps you can help. I'll
try to tell you. Where to begin?" she murmured, and then plunged in. "I guess
it began when I was first taken to a museum. Pete was taking ancient history
in school and Pat had to visit local points of interest, and my aunt took
Pokey and Polly and me along. They ran around saying, 'Isn't this funny?' and
laughing like anything, or else they were bored stiff and wouldn't look at
all. They chattered and squealed so "
"I know," said Dr. Welles, when Stella paused and gave him a look that begged
for understanding.
"Either they all ran off and left me, or I slipped away, and there I was
alone, wandering around in the great dark rooms and able to look quietly at
everything as long as I liked."
"Dark?"
Stella frowned and tried to recapture the scene.
They seemed dark. There was light to see by, of course, but it was shadowy.
There were mummies and vases and things, and I wandered around for what seemed
like a long time. Then I found myself before a great piece of stone with
writing on it that I recognized as Egyptian. It was high and wide and solid,
and for a flash I could remember it all. I knew I had been there, in Egypt,
and had seen it many times before."
The child had lived the moment again as she spoke. Then she looked up,
defiantly yet fearfully at Peter, who pulled silently at his pipe, his face
Page 58
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
without expression.
"That was the beginning," said Stella, and she waited for comment.
"Go on."
"Then I went into other rooms and saw other things. It was the same with
cuneiform, almost. I almost remembered how to read it, although I could not
remember seeing those particular inscriptions. Then the others found me and we
went home. Oh, how they always chattered. So silly. Anything even a little bit
different they thought was funny and would scream over it. Pat used to take
care of children and she would show them pictures and say, 'See the funny man.
He's all black. Isn't he funny? Look at the man with feathers on his head.
Isn't he funny?' and if they passed a Chinese on the street they'd nudge each
other and say, 'Look, look, isn't he funny?' What's funny about that?"
"Nothing whatever," said Peter, with such unexpected warmth that Stella took
heart and went on.
"Then I asked my uncle about books on ancient times and places and languages
and he would try to get whatever I wanted. He asked for story books first and
when he brought me Haggard I was sure I was right. He took me to the museum
again, without the others. At the library we got books about the different
languages and I began to learn them again."
She seemed to expect comment, but the psychiatrist's nod was noncommittal.
"I got books in Arabic, Chinese, Hebrew, Greek, Hindustani, Sanskrit,
Anglo-Saxon and Sumerian."
"Sumerian!"
"Yes. C. J. Good's A Sumerian Reading Book." Stella's eyes were shining. "Some
of it is in cuneiform script."
"I see. Go on."
"So I came to work out this theory. I couldn't see that things made sense any
other way except that I must be reincarnated and have a sort of memory of
these other lives, unless I was inspired, and now I'm pretty sure it's not
inspiration. Other boys and girls had no interest in these things; why should
I have? They didn't think about things like life and death and time and
personality and other religions or even their own religion. How could I be so [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
  • zanotowane.pl
  • doc.pisz.pl
  • pdf.pisz.pl
  • kudrzwi.htw.pl
  • Archiwum
    Powered by wordpress | Theme: simpletex | © Wszystkie rzeczy zawsze działają zgodnie ze swoją naturą.