Soldier at the Door(43)
“You see, shortly after he returned, all his maps, notes and papers were destroyed in a fire right after the Great War, along with many other records we considered important. Terryp was a very sad man for a very long time after that.”
Poe’s eyes narrowed and he stated gravely, “I bet that wasn’t an accident, that fire.”
Mahrree was charged by his insight. “Why do you think that?”
His face screwed up as he thought about his answer. “Because maybe what Terryp found would have changed a lot of stuff. Maybe people don’t like to change what they know, even if they know it’s wrong. Even if the new stuff is really amazing! Does that make sense?”
“Absolutely!” Mahrree said proudly. “Ah, Poe, I have great hope for you! Don’t let Full School destroy your ability to think and reason.”
Confused by her advice he frowned at her, blinked in confusion, then likely decided she was simply rambling again.
“By the way, Poe—what color is the sky?”
To her delight, he looked at it first.
“Blue with long white clouds, Miss Mahrree. Oh, and bright white where the sun is! Why?”
He remembered to mention the sun, Mahrree thought, duly impressed. Rarely do people remember the sun as part of the sky.
But Poe did.
Voices from down the road caught his attention. “My friends are here!” he announced and stood up.
“Poe, when you’re done at the fort today, come by and I’ll let you borrow the stories. There are some good ones in there. Then we can talk about them some more.”
He nodded and waved good-bye.
Poe remembered the sun, Mahrree sighed. That boy could go a long way some day.
That evening Perrin came home accompanied by his short soldiers who were chatting excitedly. One of them was wearing Perrin’s cap which swallowed more than half his head. Poe ran up to the door to get the stories from Mahrree and bounded off down the darkening road. Perrin retrieved his cap from the forgetful boy, came to the door, and picked up his daughter.
“Looks like you have discovered a new recruiting technique,” Mahrree said as she watched the boys scamper off, “adopted from the Administrators. Win them over when they’re nine, and wait a few years until they’re old enough to sign up. The Administrators will find you very clever, Captain.”
He shot her a glare before he smiled sadly. “They just sit on the fence watching the men. They should be rolling in the dirt instead. But I have to admit, when the soldiers see their young audience, they seem to sharpen up. All the way home those boys had so many questions. What do you do when a Guarder sneaks up on you? What if you don’t like dinner, does someone force you to eat it? Has anyone cut off an arm by accident with their sword?”
Perrin’s smile dimmed. “What they really need is someone to talk to. I thought something like this would happen, just like it did a few years ago when they first started Full School in Idumea. As soon as the parents saw the teachers did all the teaching, they thought they were no longer needed. After the first year lots of parents were working all the time. Sure, businesses and farms started producing more. But what’s more important, goods or children? All day the boys have teachers drilling them. Children don’t need someone to talk at them, but with them. I’m sorry, Mahrree, but I don’t think teachers can talk to children as well as their parents can. And if the parents don’t talk, then . . .”
He stopped and looked at Mahrree who had been staring at him adoringly during his little speech.
“What?” he asked.
“I’m remembering how you said your mind was like my mind. Have I told you lately how you’re the most perfect man in the world?”
“No, you’ve been quite derelict in that duty. But you’re making up for it,” and he kissed her on the lips. “Mahrree, promise me we’ll always remember to talk to our children. By the way, what was Poe taking from you?”
“I wanted him to read the Stories of the World. He didn’t seem to be familiar with many of them, and the teachers aren’t bothering to teach them! I learned about those in school several times when I was young.”
“And who was your teacher?” Perrin reminded her.
“My father,” Mahrree nodded. He always explored the furthest reaches of what was known and what could be imagined. That didn’t seem to be the purpose of schooling anymore.
Mahrree thought about Poe’s description of school now, and she grew restless merely thinking about memorizing stuff all day long.
It was sadly remarkable, she decided, that in such a short time full school had taken the world—as captivating and full of wonder as it is—and diminished it into something merely dull.