Little Deadly Things by Harry Steinman

Little Deadly Things by Harry Steinman

Author:Harry Steinman [Steinman, Harry]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Science Fiction, Thriller
ISBN: 9781938952609
Publisher: Alloy Press
Published: 2012-09-05T00:00:00+00:00


14

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HOME SCHOOLING

FROM THE MEMORIES

OF DANA ECCO

I was almost nine when my parents bought a home in Pill Hill, an upscale Boston suburb, named for its proximity to a cluster of hospitals. My father cycled to work, weather permitting, or rode with my mother in a P-car, a semi-private driverless automobile. Our house backed up against a ribbon of parkland called the Emerald Necklace. That was my western frontier, my Sherwood Forest, my mystical kingdom. If I wanted to meet Robin Hood’s Merry Men, cowboys, or elves, I had merely to walk out the door and into my backyard imagination.

My mother showed me plants in the parkland that were edible or medicinal. Today, when I walk through the parkland along the Muddy River, I can still spot trillium, wild asparagus, leeks, and Solomon’s seal.

My childhood was as ordinary as anyone raised by one of the greatest scientists of her age and tutored by another. I liked to listen to music, to play games—things adolescents have done for centuries—although sports never caught my fancy. I tried to play soccer a few times, and lacrosse just once. Evidently, an easy-going personality doesn’t match up well against big-boned bloodlust.

My playmates were more inclined to fantasy than to football. We found our castles, battlefields, and alien landscapes along the Muddy River. The fens and woodlands were forests and jungles inhabited by wild creatures. What courage, what daring we displayed.

I made friends with children of other scientists at NMech, explorers all. We hunted for treasure and found it, right there at NMech—ancient sensors, induction coils, spectrometers, rheostats, and voltmeters. I doubt that another school, private or corporate, boasted a scanning tunneling microscope, capable of nanoscale resolution, right alongside a considerable pile of building blocks, board games and baseballs.

Eva Rozen took an interest in my adventures. She listened to my tales of gallantry and adventure without once censoring me. I didn’t realize that she thought made-up stories were a fool’s task until I was much older.

Our family life was much like that of other families. I got along with my mother and father, debates over household chores notwithstanding. After my mother became a major stockholder at NMech and she hired the housekeeper I’d lobbied for, we found other duties over which to disagree.

I also lobbied for a dog, but my father surprised me and refused. He said that we’d be away from home too much. When I reminded him that we could take a dog with us to NMech since we owned part of the company, he smiled and said, “I’ll think about it”—the universal parent code for “no.” I think that after Ringer, he decided not to face the certain prospect of loss with another dog. Instead, he poured the part of him that craved primal connections with canines into his devotion to the dogs at Haven, and to my mother and me.

Schoolwork was easy until my parents decided to take over my education. Homeschooling was harder, but more enjoyable. My father, my mother, and Eva were my main teachers.



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