"Zenna Henderson - Holding Wonder" - читать интересную книгу автора (Henderson Zenna)

If you use a BB shot to represent the Earth, would there be room in the
schoolroom to make a scale mobile of the planetary system? I extinguished some
of the fire bred of ignorance, by suggesting an encyclopedia and some math,
and moved on through the room.

Gene and Vincent, not caring for such intellectual pursuits, were working on
our model space capsule which was patterned after the very latest in U.S.
spacecraft, modified to include different aspects of the latest in flying
saucers. I was watching Vincent leaning through a window, fitting a tin can
altitude gauge-or some such-into the control panel. Gene was painting purple a
row of cans around the middle of the craft. Purple was currently popular for
flying saucer lights.

"I wonder if astronauts ever develop claustrophobia?" I said idly. "I get a
twinge sometimes in elevators or mines."

"I suppose susceptible ones would be eliminated long before they ever got to
be astronauts," grunted Vincent as he pushed on the tin can. "They go through
all sorts of tests."

"I know," I said, "But people change. Just supposing-"

"Gollee!" said Gene, his poised paint brush dribbling purple down his arm and
off his elbow. "Imagine! Way up there! No way out! Can't get down! And
claustrophobia!" He brought out the five syllables proudly. The school had
defined and discussed the word when we first started the unit.

The tin can slipped and Vincent staggered sideways, falling against me.

"Oh!" said Vincent, his shaking hands lifting, his right arm curling up over
his head. "I-"

I took one look at his twisted face, the cold sweat bead- his hairline, and,
circling his shoulders, steered him over to the reading bench near my desk.
"Sit," I said.

"Whatsa matter with him?" Now the paint was dripping one leg of Gene's Levi's.

"Just slightly wampsy," I said. "Watch that paint. You're making a mess of
your clothes"

"Gollee!" He smeared his hand down his pants from hip to knee. "Mom'll kill
me!"

I lifted my voice. "It's put-away time. Kipper, will you monitor today?"

The children were swept into organized confusion. I turned back to Vincent.
"Better?"

"I'm sorry." Color hadn't come back to his face yet, but it was plumping up