The Lesson

One day before the Fourth Visit is to happen, a knock comes at the door. It is Stan’s mother, and she is carrying a long metal box full of needles

— Come in, said Loring. It was to be raining, but apparently it is not.

— It isn’t raining at all, agreed Stan’s mother.

The two stood looking at each other. Finally, Stan’s mother spoke.

— I wondered, could you tell me how Stan is doing? I didn’t want to ask you when he is around. This is the first time he’s really been away from home for any length of time, and certainly the first he’s been with a stranger.

— I’m not really a stranger, said Loring. Not to him.

— No, of course not. Of course not. But I was wondering…

— Yes, well, he is a…

At this point it occurred to Loring that this was her chance to learn things about Stan that he himself did not know, or would not tell. But, which to ask first?

— …he is a shy one. I wonder, do you know, does he get on well with other children?

— Not well at all. They like him well enough, but he won’t bother with them. He would rather sit indoors and read.

— And his father, said Loring. What’s their relationship?

— Good, said Stan’s mother curtly. Do you have any reason to suppose it’s not?

— No, no. No, no, no. I am just trying to think of the boy, to know him better so that I can teach him properly.

Stan’s mother nodded her head slightly, still not entirely reassured.

— Does he have any particular objects he likes to keep around himself?

— Well, a chess set that we bought him, and a whitish colored stick.

— A whitish colored stick?

— Yes.

— How long is it?

— About this long.

— And you say it’s a stick.

— Yes. He put marks in it and he uses it as a ruler, to poke things, and to reach things that are high up. It’s kind of hooked on the end.

— Like a bird talon?

— I don’t know, said Stan’s mother. I don’t know that. Anyway, is he learning or not? How is his chess?

— It is…

There was another knock at the door, very slight, and then another louder, and then a tumult of banging and shouting. The door, which actually had not been properly closed, swung open, spilling three or four boys and a girl or two onto the hall carpet. These were the selfsame ones who had been following Stan’s mother before. Now, here they were again.

— What are you doing? she asked.

— Just waiting for you, they said. We got impatient.

— If you are going to wait, then wait. If you are going to be impatient, there is a glue factory that way. That’s where orphans go, and not to work, either.

They all laughed a hearty laugh together at that.

— We are ready for you to come out, they said, completely disregarding the glue factory scenario.

— If you’ll pardon me, said Stan’s mother to Loring.

She took up an atlas that was leaned against the wall and drove the children out with furious blows. She really was quite strong, you know.

When the children were gone, she came back.

— They are always after me, she said.

— It is true in my experience, said Loring, that they want to be near you. Who can say why.

— We will be over here! came a shout from outside.

A quick look into the distance would have made clear that the children were balanced on several lightpoles. How they had climbed them is unknown. In fact, neither woman looked out the door. Instead, they were concluding their business.

— I will bring him tomorrow.

Loring nodded.