Between the Roots (11 page)

"Yes, you saw the birth of Virginia. She's a dear. Really a fast learner. Already she can talk in short sentences and put puzzles together."

"How can that be?" John said.

"Remember, our system is working in reverse of yours, most of it anyway. All those billions of brain cells that your babies have, we also have, only they're charged with much of the knowledge of our ancestors. You poor guys have to learn everything from scratch. But we have retained some of our parents' knowledge, like language, and history, and how to control our bodies for walking before crawling. After a few weeks we don't even need diapers."

"You mean you don't have to learn?"

"No, we have to go to school, but our learning starts out at a progressed level. All the new 'stuff' that our parents hadn't learned, we have to learn your old-fashioned way. Most of what we learn is a triggering of inherited knowledge. We have schools too, though."

"I think we saw one in the large room at the Colony," Sammy said.

"Could be. I know there was a study group in the library last night."

Last night. It seemed like months had gone by since their night trip to the Colony. So many things were beginning to make sense even as Sammy was struggling to accept what Walt had just revealed. Then it struck him. The awful reality of Walt's story, if he were telling the truth, had many implications.

"AnLillie, is
she
young, or is she . . . "

"She's my grandmother. She's the one that owns the car. She's been teaching me how to drive, but she wouldn't let me drive it alone today."

Sammy saw that John looked as astonished as he also felt.

"She's been driving for almost sixty years, but she looks too young to have a license. So the Ancestors pulled it. That made her mad!"

He studied their faces and smiled. He laughed as he spoke. "Sammy, you really fell for my grandma. You remind her of someone, too. At first she really thought you were an oldie like her from another colony. But the day you two ran out on us, she realized you weren't."

"That's not funny, Walt. That's a mean trick to play on her." Sammy was upset, especially when he considered how ridiculous the whole situation seemed. "And it was a nasty one to play on me."

"Wait a minute. Did you say another colony?" John asked.

Walt raised his hands in silence and sat absolutely still for nearly a minute. Sammy and John both studied him. When Walt next spoke he ignored John's question. "I can't keep a secret from Ancestor Lillie," he said. With conviction he added, "So there are some things I will not tell you."

Sammy knew this was not the time to push Walt, yet speaking of AnLillie was still open to discussion; so he asked, "What did she say when she found out I'm really a kid who didn't know anything about the Colonies?"

"She said there are some things I should let you figure out yourself."

Walt became serious. He scooted his chair closer to the table and leaned in. "Do I sound like an eighty-year-old guy? I'm one of you; I'm as stupid and silly as you two, except for a few knowledge buds from my parents."

"Well, thanks, man," John snapped, "I really feel complimented. Do you really want to associate with the lower class?"

"There's where you're wrong, all you people." Walt looked agitated. "Just because someone's been on this earth longer than someone else, doesn't make them higher or lower, as you say." Walt's voice was peppered with feeling. "Ever since I can remember, I was taught it's about respect for life, for living things, even injured dogs." He drove his words hard. "Not how much time you've chalked up breathing. There's another word we use for respect for long life, 'wisdom,' and short life, 'learning.' It's called 'caring.'" Walt was so agitated his body shook. "We just plain care for one another."

"Whoa, heavy stuff," John said.

"It makes you uncomfortable?"

Sammy said, "All of this makes me uncomfortable, but I actually believe you, Walt."

"I hope so, 'cause if you don't and you dare say anything to anyone, I'll be in detention for months, maybe years." The look on his face told both boys that he meant what he said. "You know, several people in this town would kill to know what I just told you. We'd be driven out of this area into some kind of freak show."

John said, "Do you think those developers know anything about this?"

"No, it would have busted wide open by now if they did. It's just money and greed that's driving them. They have to work with prejudice to make their point."

Sammy allowed the strangeness of Walt's fantastic tale to sink into his brain.

"Just imagine what damage they could do with this news."

"Don't mess with me, Sammy. Your promise is real, remember."

"We promised, Walt. We'll keep it."

As incredible as it sounded, there were too many coincidences to discount Walt's story. This old man did act like a wrinkled adolescent. The entire birthing process sounded logical, especially since Sammy had seen it. A prickle of resentment bristled in Sammy. He felt tricked, the center of Walt's private joke. His attraction to AnLillie must have given Walt plenty of laughs.

Walt interrupted his thoughts. "The Colony has worked hard to keep its identity to itself and still be able to mingle among the aging townspeople."

"Is that what you call us? The 'aging'?" Sammy asked.

"Most of you, but then there are others, there are 'the Links,' the . . . "

A loud noise rocked the interior of the store. The lights blinked, leaving the room in semi-darkness for a brief moment. Another loud noise followed. It was normally too early in the year for thunder, but they could not mistake the sudden darkness and the pelting rain of a storm beginning to rage. Since February was wedged between winter and spring, rapid changes in weather were predictably common. Still, people were caught off-guard. Several pedestrians rushed inside, seeking shelter from the heavy downpour.

"So, boys, do you like riding in the rain?" Mr. Lanton said as he approached their table. All three of them walked to the windows to watch the wild fury outside.

"Geez, I hope this lets up," John said.

"Well, if it doesn't, we can throw your bikes in the back of my pickup and I'll take you home," Mr. Lanton said as he went to his office.

"And I'm walking," Walt said.

"You can't walk in this, Walt." Sammy went to the door to check on the bikes. "You're going to need a ride."

"So are we, Sammy," John reminded him. "Let's take Lanton up on his offer."

"I wish we could all four squeeze into Lanton's truck," Walt said to Sammy.

Sammy approached the table. He understood what Walt was saying. Walt wanted to be a part of their lives in a way that only a peer could be. He wanted to be accepted by them as an equal, as a friend, as a kid in old man's trappings, but he'd gotten away with playing the adult too long for Sammy to make it easy on him. An idea began to form in Sammy's mind.

"Listen, Walt, there isn't enough room in the cab. I'll call Mrs. West and see if she can give you a lift." Walt looked thankful. Sammy hurried to the back office to use the phone and accept Lanton's offer of a ride.

When he'd talked to Mrs. West, Sammy came back and said, "She'll be here right away, Walt. By the way, I kept my promise. She thinks she's picking up an old-man friend of mine. I told her you were having car trouble, but I didn't tell it was because your grandma wouldn't let you drive alone." He looked at Walt, then turned and smiled at John. "She's about your age, and single. Wouldn't you say, John?"

"Give or take a few years."

"She doesn't need to know where you live," Sammy continued. "Just have her drop you off at one of those houses near the Colony."

"I want to be your friend . . . " Walt said.

"Sure," said Sammy, "but first you've got to prove it."

T
HE INCREDIBLE REVERSE-AGING
story left Sammy feeling torn between the wonder of what seemed impossible and anger over having been deceived. For two weeks Sammy wrestled with resentment toward Walt. Sammy had thought Virginia's birthing was a murder. And Walt had to have known his flimsy story about a play wouldn't allay Sammy's fears. Also, now that he thought about it, Sammy suspected that Walt came up with the moneymaking scheme more to provide entertainment for his friends than help Sammy out. Falling for AnLillie was the topper. It embarrassed and incensed him. Sammy decided Walt needed a lesson; he planned his retaliation well.

"You know, Mom, it's been a long time since we've had anyone over for dinner."

"You're right. What have you got in mind?"

Oh, this is too easy. A piece of cake. Now play your cards right, Sammy. Just remember she doesn't suspect anything.

"Well, you know that old man, Walt, that I met last fall?"

"The man that helped you with the senior night at The Arcade. Nice old guy."

"Yes, Walt. I've called him several times, and he seems lonely," Sammy added.

"It's fine with me if you want to invite him for dinner."

Sammy nabbed the opportunity, "How about this Saturday?"

"That will work." she answered.

Sometimes wonderful things happen to people without even trying. Do they deserve it? Maybe. Are they just lucky? More likely. His plan was coming together even better and easier than he anticipated.
The ball is snapped to the mother, who catches it and looks for an opening. Now for the pass.

"That's great. You don't suppose we could invite anyone else to kind of round out the table, do you?" Sammy knew very well who he wanted, but he didn't want to appear too eager with the suggestion.

"Are you thinking of John?"
Pass complete. Now run the field.

"I'm not sure he's in town this weekend."

"You know, Sammy, it would be really nice if we invited Mrs. West to join us."
Touchdown!
"She's been so sweet to us, and I'm sure she'd like the company. Walt and Mrs. West might find things in common."
Extra point!

"Good idea, Mom. Let's do it." He knew he should ask Mrs. West first because without her, there could be no plan. Yet he'd suggested the dinner with the idea that Walt was lonely. He'd have to call him first. All the maneuvers had to be executed in the proper order.

"That's awfully thoughtful of you, Sammy. Just let me know if it's a go."

Sammy felt a rush of wicked delight. His first inclination was to phone John, but he resisted; he'd see him soon enough in school.

The ringing sounded distant. Now that he knew whom he was talking to, he wondered where Walt actually lived.
Was he in one of the cottages with his parents? Now there's a strange thought. They must be about Mom's age, maybe a little older. Or maybe he's in some sort of dormitory where the phone rings at the end of a long hall. And it keeps ringing until someone stumbles out of bed and shuffles down the hall to answer it. Or is he living with AnLillie?

"Hello."

"Can I please speak to Walt?"
What's his last name? I don't even know his . . .

"This is Walt."

"Walt, is that really you? You sound so much different." Sammy realized he had already adjusted to the idea that Walt was really his age. In his thinking, Walt's voice should be younger, too.

"Sammy, good to hear you. I was beginning to think you were giving up on me."

Sammy wished he had practiced his speech.

"You're sure calling early."

"I wanted to call you before school. Mom says she'd like to have you over to dinner on Saturday. She says you're a nice old guy."

It was quiet on the other end.

He needed to word this just right, no lies, and it was true she offered to fix dinner. He spoke in a rush. "I haven't said a word about my promise, Walt, if that's what you're thinking. I haven't said anything to anybody, never will, honest to God. Besides, they'd think I was crazy." Sammy took a breath.

"Two weeks, Sammy."

"I know, I was mad at you and, well, a whole bunch of other things. You laid a big heavy on us." Again there was a pause.

"All right, Sammy, but AnLillie won't let me drive at night until I have more practice."

"No problem. We'll pick you up. How about six by that house beyond the main gate? The place where Mrs. West dropped you off during the storm."

"I'm sure it's okay."

His mom would be coming down the hall any minute. But there was one gnawing question Sammy wanted answered. "Walt, who do you ask if you want to go someplace?"

"I usually ask AnMike."

The name sounded familiar. "Who's she?"

"He . . . AnMike is one of my uncles. The 'An' stands for ancestor, the title we give all of our ancestors."

"I see." He remembered hearing Walt call the boy in the computer room by that name. Now AnLillie's name had more meaning. "So, I'll see you on Saturday, six o'clock sharp."
Easy, too easy. Now just one more piece to the puzzle.

As he ran out, the front door slammed behind him. He jumped the side hedge by Mrs. West's front lawn. She was always up early, and he caught her wave through the front window as he headed to the porch. She held the door open. He wondered if she too might really be a kid, then realized he'd known her too long. He would notice her growing younger.

"Is there a problem, Sammy?" Mrs. West seemed to think in problems.

"No, Mrs. West, no problem." He stooped to pick up the newspaper against a planter box and handed it to her.

"Come in. I know you didn't come over just to pick up my paper."

"Mom and I were wondering if you'd like to come to dinner around six on Saturday night."

"Why, that sounds wonderful. I'd love to."

"Okay, then, see you later." Sammy started backing toward the steps before he realized he was still missing one vital piece to his plan. "Oh, say, Mrs. West, you wouldn't mind if Walt joined us for dinner too, would you? He's that old guy that helped us with the arcade project."

"I know Walt. I took him home during the rain storm."

"Oh, yeah. I hate to ask, but do you think you could pick him up? He's still having car trouble."