"Kim Stanley Robinson - Sixty Days and Counting" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robinson Kim Stanley)

always one of the first kids there and one of the last to leave, and that was saying a
lot. But he did not remark on this, and did not seem to mind. He was still nice to the
other kids. Indeed the various teachers all told Charlie how well he got along with the
other kids.
Charlie found these reports depressing. He could see with his own eyes the
beginning and end of JoeтАЩs days in daycare, but there werenтАЩt as many kids there at
those times. And he remembered Gymboree, indeed had been traumatized by certain
incidents at Gymboree.
Now, as everyone pointed out, Joe was calm to the point of detachment. Serene. In
his own space. In the daycare he looked somewhat like he would have during a quiet
moment on the floor of their living room at home; perhaps a bit more wary. It
worried Charlie more than he could say. Anna would not understand the nature of
his concern, and aside from herтАжhe might have mentioned it to Roy during one of
their phone calls, back in the old days. But Roy had no time and was obsessed, and
there was no one else with whom to share the feeling that Joe had changed and was
not himself. That wasnтАЩt something you could say.
Sometimes he brought it up with Anna obliquely, as a question, and she agreed that
Joe was different than he had been before his fever, but she seemed to regard it as
within the normal range of childhood changes, and mostly a function of learning to
talk. Growing up. Her theory was that as Joe learned to talk he got less and less
frustrated, that his earlier tempestuousness had been frustration at not being able to
communicate what he was thinking.
But this theory presupposed that the earlier Joe had been inarticulate, and in
possession of thoughts he had wanted to communicate to the world but couldnтАЩt;
and that did not match CharlieтАЩs experience. In his opinion, Joe had always
communicated exactly whatever he was feeling or thinking. Even before he had had
language, his thoughts had still been perfectly explicit, though not linguistic. They
had been precise feelings, and Joe had expressed them precisely, and with well-nigh
operatic virtuosity.
In any case, now it was different. To Charlie, radically different. Anna didnтАЩt see
that, and it would upset her if Charlie could persuade her to see it, so he did not try.
He wasnтАЩt even sure what it was he would be trying to convey. He didnтАЩt really
believe that the real Joe had gone away as a result of the KhembalisтАЩ ceremony for
him. When Charlie had made the request, his rather vague notion had been that what
such a ceremony would dispel would be the KhembalisтАЩ interest in Joe, and their
belief that he harbored the spirit of one of their reincarnated lamas. Altering the
KhembalisтАЩ attitude toward Joe would then change Joe himself, but in minor
waysтАФways that Charlie now found he had not fully imagined, for how exactly had
he thought that Joe was тАЬnot himself,тАЭ beyond being feverish, and maybe a bit
subdued, a bit cautious and fearful? Had that really been the result of the KhembalisтАЩ
regard? And if their regard were to change, why exactly would Joe go back to the
way he was beforeтАФfeisty, bold, full of himself?
Perhaps he wouldnтАЩt. It had not worked out that way, and now CharlieтАЩs ideas
seemed flawed to him. Now he had to try to figure out just exactly what it was he
had wanted, what he thought had happened in the ceremony, and what he thought
was happening now.
It was a hard thing to get at, made harder by the intensity of his new schedule. He
only saw Joe for a couple of hours a day, during their commutes, and their time in
the Metro cars was confined, with both of them asleep on many a morningтАЩs ride in,
and both of them tired and distracted by the dayтАЩs events on the way home. Charlie