The Child Eater by Rachel Pollack Page B

mother stared at him.
    “When he was just a few months old, a squirrel scared him. He cried and cried. So if you see any squirrels around, could you chase them away?”
    “Yes, of course,” Mrs. Beech said.
    Outside, Mrs. Wisdom looked about to say something, then changed her mind. In the car she said, “I’m so glad you’re trying this. You know, Jack, Simon needs to be with other children as much as you need to be with grown-ups. I know it’s hard, but really, it’s for the best.”
    And maybe it was. Simon emerged into childhood sturdy and curious, with a wide smile that attracted other children as much as adults. He had his mother’s curly hair and large eyes, his father’s wide hands. He appeared to like puzzles, or at least objects you could put together into some kind of shape. He could play for hours, it seemed, with blocks, or the soft, colorful pieces of a baby jigsaw puzzle, arranging theminto different forms, none of which made sense to anyone but himself. Though the other children liked him and often looked to him for directions, he was just as happy all by himself. He learned to read very early, and soon the house was filled with books aimed at much older children.
    Jack had to be careful, though. He didn’t want any fairy tales, especially stories about talking animals. It wasn’t easy. From television to comics to toys, the child universe was filled with jabbering animals. But at least Jack controlled the books. And he always made sure Simon knew the difference between fantasy and reality.
    One night Jack had a dream. He managed to keep them away most of the time—more than ever, he needed to stay normal, for Simon—but now and then one would sneak up on him. In this dream he went to check on Simon and lights were flickering all around his son’s head. Simon laughed and grabbed at them, but they danced away from him. Jack ran at them, waving his hands as if they were flies or mosquitoes, and the lights streamed out through the window. When dream-Jack looked outside, he saw a whole line of squirrels staring at the house. He yelled and ran outside, only to discover more squirrels by the front door and all around the building. “Leave us alone!” he yelled, and woke in his bed.
    Quickly he ran into Simon’s room where the boy was sleeping peacefully, hugging a stuffed elephant his grandma had given him. Jack made sure the windows were shut, then glanced outside. The trees and the grass were clean and empty in the early dawn. Only, if he looked beyond the first line of growth it seemed to him that the trees became denser, dark and very old. He thought for a moment of when he was young, and “troubled,” as his mother used to say, and his dad decided it was the woods. Maybe Dad was right , Jack thought. He glanced over at Simon asleep, then back at the twisted trees. Suddenly a light flashed within their dark heart, so bright Jack took a step backward. For some reason he thought suddenly of Remember! scrawled across the living room wall. He closed the curtains so he couldn’t look at the trees anymore, and then he went to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.

Chapter Nine
MATYAS
    On that first day after his climb up the tower, Matyas awoke excited to begin his studies. Instead of instructions, however, Veil gave him a list of chores to do. All day he cleaned, or ran up and down the stairs, or just put books away. In the evening he cooked a carrot stew then once more brushed her hair until she fell asleep. This went on for weeks. Every time Matyas protested that he had not run away from home only to do the same work, Veil simply said, “When you are ready.”
    “I’m ready now,” he would say—or shout—but Veil just ignored him or gave him another task.
    Sometimes, when his chores took him downstairs and out into the courtyard, he looked around at the buildings and wondered what went on inside them. The Academy was not a large place, really, just a group of buildings set around an open