“Pretty well done,” Lin remarked, and all four emerged from the bushes and stood on the bank, looking into the dark water.
“He dives better than I do,” said the objective Pol, “but I wouldn’t want to trade places with him now.”
They sat down on the bank. The waves dispersed, and the water-lily leaves grew still. The low sun shone through the pines. It was a bit close, and quiet.
“Who’s going to do the talking?” inquired Athos.
“I am,” Lin eagerly suggested.
“Let me,” said Pol. “You can follow it up.”
The gloomy Captain nodded. He did not like any of this. Night was approaching, and nothing was ready yet. They wouldn’t manage to get away today, that was for sure. Then he remembered Teacher’s kind eyes, and all desire to leave evaporated. Teacher had once told him, “All the worst in a human being begins with a lie.”
“There he is!” Lin said in a low tone. “Swimming.”
They sat in a semicircle by the water and waited. Walter swam beautifully and easily—he no longer had the pistol.
“Hi, Eighteen,” he said as he was climbing out of the water. “You really snuck up on me.” He stopped knee-deep in the water and started to dry himself with his hands.
Pol went first. “Happy sixteenth birthday,” he said warmly.
Walter took off his mask and opened his eyes wide. “What?” he said.
“Happy sixteenth birthday, old buddy,” Pol said still more affectionately.
“Somehow I don’t quite understand you, Polly.” Walter smiled uncomfortably. “You always say such clever things,”
“Right,” agreed the objective Pol. “I’m smarter than you. Besides, I read a whole lot more. And so?”
“And so what?”
“You didn’t say thank you,” Athos explained, taking up the lead. “We came to say happy birthday.”
“What is this, guys?” Walter shifted his gaze from one to another, trying to make out what they wanted. His conscience was not clear, and he began to be wary. “What birthday? My birthday was a month ago, and I turned twelve, not sixteen.”
“What?” Polly was very much surprised. “Then I don’t understand what this face mask is doing here.”
“And the fins,” said Athos.
“And the pistol you hid on the other bank,” said Lin, joining in again.
“Twelve-year-olds can’t swim underwater by themselves,” the Captain said angrily.
“Well, well!” Walter swelled up with contempt. “So you’re going to tell my teacher?”
“What a nasty little boy!” exclaimed Pol, turning toward the Captain. The Captain did not deny it. “He means that he would rat if he caught me like that. Eh? So he’s not just a rulebreaker, he’s a—”
“Rules, rules,” muttered Walter. “Haven’t you ever gone hunting under water? Just think, I shot a bunch of bliamb.”
“Yes, we’ve gone hunting,” said Athos. “But always the four of us. Never alone. And we always tell Teacher about it. And he trusts us.”
“You lie to your teacher,” said Pol. “That means you could lie to anyone, Walter. But I like the way you’re trying to make excuses.”
The Captain narrowed his eyes. The good old formula—it cut him to pieces now: “Lie to teacher, lie to anyone.” It was stupid getting involved this way with Walter. Perfectly stupid. We have no right…
Walter was very uncomfortable. He said plaintively, “Let me get dressed, guys. It’s cold. And… it’s none of your business. It’s my business, and my teacher’s. Isn’t that right, Captain?”
The Captain parted his lips. “He’s right, Polly. And he’s already softened up-he’s making up excuses.”
Pol pompously agreed: “Oh, yes, he’s ready. His conscience is flickering. This was a psychological study, Walter. I really like studies in psychology.”
“You and your bunch can clear out!” Walter muttered, and tried to get to his clothes.
“Quiet!” said Athos. “Don’t be in such a hurry. That was the pre-am-ble. And now the amble begins.”
“Let me,” said the mighty Lin, standing up.
“No, no, Lin,” said Pol. “Don’t. It’s vulgar. He won’t understand.”
“He’ll understand,” Lin promised. “He’ll understand me all right.”
Walter jumped nimbly into the water. “Four against one!” he shouted. “Conscience? Screw you!”
Pol jumped up and down with rage. “Four against one!” he yelled. “That smallfry Valka was four times weaker than you. No, five times, six times! But you knocked the daylights out of him, you lousy pig! You could’ve found Lin or the Captain if your paws were itching!”
Walter was pale. He had fastened his face mask, but he had not pulled it down, and now he was looking around distractedly, seeking a way out. He was cold. And he understood.
“Shame on you, Walter!” said the majestic Athos. “I think you’re a coward. Shame on you. Come on out. You can fight us one at a time.”
Walter hesitated, then came out. He knew what it was to fight Room 18, but still he came out and took up a stance. He felt that he had to settle up, and he realized that this was the best way to do it. Athos pulled his shirt over his head unhurriedly.
“Hold it!” yelled Pol. “It’ll leave bruises! And we have something else to do!”
“Let me do it,” requested the mighty Lin. “I’ll be quick.”
“No!” Pol quickly started undressing. “Walter! Do you know what the worst thing in the world is? I’ll remind you—to be a coward, a liar, or a bully. You’re not a coward, thank God, but you’ve forgotten the rest of it. And I want you to remember for a long time. I’m coming in, Walter. Repeat the magic words.”
He gathered up Walter’s clothes, which were lying in the bushes, and jumped into the water.
Walter watched him helplessly, and Athos started bounding exultantly along the shore. “Polly!” he shouted. “Polly, you’re a genius! Walter, how come you’re not saying anything? Say it, say it, gorilla: a liar, a coward, or a bully.”
The Captain gloomily kept track of Polly, who was dog-paddling, making a tremendous noise, and leaving a foamy trail behind him. Yes, Polly was as clever as ever. The opposite shore was overgrown with stinging nettles, and Walter could search there naked for his pants and such. In the dark, for the sun was setting. That’s just what he needs. But who’s going to punish us? We’re no angels ourselves—we’re liars. That’s not much better than being a bully.
Polly came back. Gasping and spitting, he climbed onto the bank and immediately said, “There you are, Walter. Go and get dressed, gorilla. I don’t swim as well as you, and I don’t dive as well, but I wouldn’t like to trade places with you now!”
Walter did not look at him. He silently pulled the mask over his face and got into the warm, steaming water. Before him was the bank with the stinging nettles.
“Remember!” Pol shouted after him. “A coward, a liar, or a bully. A bully, Walter! There’s nothing worse than that. The nettles’ll help out your bad memory.”
“Right,” said Athos. “Get dressed, Lieber Polly. You’ll catch cold.”
They could hear Walter on the opposite shore, hissing with pain through his teeth as he pushed through the thickets.
When they got back home to Room 18, it was already late evening—after Walter’s chastisement, Lin had proposed that they play Pandora to relax, and Pandora was played with great gusto. Athos, Lin, and the Captain were hunters, and Polly the giant crayspider, while the park was the Pandoran jungle—impenetrable, marshy, and terrifying. The moon, which showed up at just the right time, played EN 9, one of Pandora’s suns. They played until the giant crayspider, leaping from a tree onto Lin the hunter, tore his superdurable tetraconethylene pants down their entire length. Then they had to go home. They did not want to disturb the housefather, and the Captain was about to propose that they go in through the garbage chute (a magnificent idea that flashed like lightning through his gloomy ruminations), but then decided to take advantage of a humble workshop window.