Rite of Passage

“I’ve asked him to keep an eye on you today while I’m in conference. He’ll show you around the town. He’s been here before.”

“Are you going to be busy all day long?” I asked.

“I think so. If I wind things up before dark, I’ll find the two of you.”

I had to be satisfied with that. A few moments later we touched down smoothly for a landing. Grainau had heavier gravity than home — that was the first thing I was certain of after all our motion had ceased. I could feel the extra weight as a strain on my calves and arches when I stood up. Something that would take getting used to.

George came downstairs and walked over to us. Daddy stood up and said, “Well, all ready to take over, George?” Meaning me.

George towered over both of us. He nodded.

Daddy smiled and said, “That was a pretty good story, George. You have talents I never suspected you of having.”

“Which story?” I asked.

“The story George was just telling you,” Daddy said. The speaker was on from the time we left the Ship.”

George grinned. “I didn’t notice that until just a minute ago.”

“It was a fine story,” Daddy said.

I flushed, thoroughly embarrassed. “Oh, no,” I said. To listen to a story like that was one thing, but to have everybody else know it was something else and thoroughly disconcerting.

I shot George an accusing look and then ran for cover, heading for the toilet again. I didn’t want to be seen by anybody.

Daddy was after me and caught me before I got to the separating partition. He grasped my arm and brought me to a stop.

“Hold on, Mia,” he said.

I struggled to get loose. “Let me go.”

“Don’t make a scene, Mia,” he said.

“Let go of me. I don’t want to stay here.”

“Quiet!” he said sharply. “I’m sorry I made the mistake of telling you, but George didn’t do it intentionally. Besides, I enjoyed his story and I’m more than six times your age.”

“That’s different,” I said.

“You may be right, but whether you’re right or not doesn’t make any difference right now. It’s time to go outside. I want you to put yourself together and walk outside with me. When we face these Colons, I want you to be somebody I can be proud of. You don’t want to show up badly in front of these people, do you?”

I shook my head.

“All right,” he said, and let go of me. “Put yourself together.”

Keeping my head averted, I did my best to get a grip on myself. I straightened my blouse and hitched my shorts, and when I was ready, I faced around.

The ramp was down on the far side of the ship, and I could hear noise from outside. People shouting.

“Come along,” Daddy said and we walked across the center area. George was still standing there and I gave him a hostile glance as we passed, but he didn’t seem to notice. He fell in behind us.

We paused for a moment at the top of the ramp, and that seemed to be taken as a signal for a band to start playing and for people to yell even louder.

6

The horses had already been led outside and were being held there by Mr. Tubman. Standing beside him was an officious-looking man in a tall hat in which was placed a great wilted white feather. At another time he might have been funny. There were two children with him, a boy and a girl, both somewhere near my age. We had set down in what must have been the main square of the town, and there were ranks of people yelling and staring up at us from either hand. It made me feel on display. The sky was low and gray above us, the yellow bricks of the square were wet and shining, and there was a warm, damp breeze. The band was directly in front of us, all of the band members dressed in dark green uniforms. They played enthusiastically — loudly, that is — but badly.

I was looking all around at this, but Daddy took my arm and said, “Come on. You can gawk later.”

We started down the ramp and all the people in the square increased the volume of their noise. I didn’t like it and started to feel very nervous. I wouldn’t like being yelled at by large numbers of people in any case, but this was all the more discomfiting because I couldn’t tell from the noise whether they were friendly or not. Whatever tune the band was playing became indistinguishable and simply added a small contribution to the general hubbub.

Daddy and the officious-looking man shook hands. Daddy said, “Mr. Gennaro. It’s good to see you again.”

The man said, “You timed things well, Mr. Havero. The rain stopped here less than an hour ago, though I won’t guarantee that it will stay stopped.”

Daddy nudged me forward. “This is my daughter, Mia. I believe you’ve already met Mr. Tubman and George Fuhonin, my pilot.” As I shook hands, I took a good look at him. He had an eager-to-please manner that I didn’t know how to take, and I couldn’t get any clue from Daddy’s face or tone.

Gennaro indicated the boy and the girl with him. “These are my children, Ralph and Helga. When you said you were bringing your daughter, I thought she might like to meet some children of her own age.” He turned on a smile and then turned it off again.