The Wind Singer. William Nicholson

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СКАЧАТЬ Hath sighed, and rubbed his wrinkly cheeks with one hand.

      ‘I know, darling. I know.’

      ‘It’s not fair,’ said Kestrel, as if her father was making her go. And so in a way he was. Hanno Hath was so kind to his children, and understood so exactly what they felt, that they found it almost impossible to go against his wishes.

      A familiar smoky smell rose from the stove.

      ‘Oh, sagahog!’ exclaimed his wife.

      She had burned the toast again.

      The morning sun was low in the sky, and the high city walls cast a shadow over all Orange District, as the Hath family walked down the street to the Community Hall. Mr and Mrs Hath went in front, and Bowman and Kestrel came behind, with Pinpin between them holding a hand each. Other families with two-year-olds were making their way in the same direction, past the neat terraces of orange-painted houses. The Blesh family was ahead of them, and could be heard coaching their little boy as they went along.

      ‘One, two, three, four, who’s that at the door? Five, six, seven, eight, who’s that at the gate?’

      As they came into the main square, Mrs Blesh turned and saw them. She gave the little wave she always gave, as if she was their special friend, and waited for Mrs Hath to catch her up.

      ‘Can you keep a secret?’ she said in a whisper. ‘If our little one does well enough today, we’ll move up to Scarlet.’

      Mrs Hath thought for a moment.

      ‘Very bright, scarlet,’ she said.

      ‘And did you hear? Our Rufy was second in his class yesterday afternoon.’

      Mr Blesh called back,

      ‘Second? Second? Why not first? That’s what I want to know.’

      ‘Oh, you men!’ said Mrs Blesh. And to Mrs Hath, in her special-friend voice, ‘They can’t help it, can they? They have to win.’

      As she spoke these words, her slightly poppy-out eyes rested for a moment on Hanno Hath. Everyone knew that poor Hanno Hath hadn’t been promoted for three years now, though of course his wife never admitted how disappointed she must feel. Kestrel caught her pitying look, and it made her want to stick knives into Mrs Blesh’s body. But more than that, it made her want to hug her father, and cover his wrinkly-sad face with kisses. To relieve her feelings, she bombarded Mrs Blesh’s broad back with rude thoughts.

      Pocksicker! Pompaprune! Sagahog!

      At the entrance to the Community Hall, a lady Assistant Examiner sat checking names against a list. The Bleshes went first.

      ‘Is the little one clean?’ asked the Assistant Examiner. ‘Has he learned to control his bladder?’

      ‘Oh, yes,’ said Mrs Blesh. ‘He’s unusually advanced for his age.’

      When it was Pinpin’s turn, the Assistant Examiner asked the same question.

      ‘Is she clean? Has she learned to control her bladder?’

      Mr Hath looked at Mrs Hath. Bowman looked at Kestrel. Through their minds floated pictures of Pinpin’s puddles on the kitchen floor. But this was followed by a kind of convulsion of family pride, which they all felt at the same time.

      ‘Control her bladder, madam?’ said Mrs Hath with a bright smile. ‘My daughter can widdle in time to the National Anthem.’

      The Assistant Examiner looked surprised, then checked the box marked CLEAN on her list.

      ‘Desk twenty-three,’ she said.

      The Community Hall was buzzing with activity. A great chalkboard at one end listed the names of the examinees, all ninety-seven of them, in alphabetical order. There was Pinpin’s name, looking unfamiliar in its full form: PINTO HATH. The Hath family formed a protective huddle round desk twenty-three while Mrs Hath removed Pinpin’s nappy. Now that she was down as clean it would be counted as cheating to leave her in a nappy. Pinpin herself was delighted. She liked to feel cool air on her bottom.

      A bell rang, and the big room fell quiet for the entrance of the Examiners. Ninety-seven desks, at each of which sat a two-year-old; behind each one, on benches, their parents and siblings. The sudden silence awed the little ones, and there wasn’t so much as a cry.

      The Examiners swept in, their scarlet gowns billowing, and stood on the podium in a single line of terrible magnificence. There were ten of them. At the centre was the tall figure of the Chief Examiner, Maslo Inch, the only one in the hall to wear the simple shining white garments of the highest rating.

      ‘Stand for the Oath of Dedication!’

      Everyone stood, parents lifting little ones to their feet. Together they chanted the words all knew by heart.

      ‘I vow to strive harder, to reach higher, and in every way to seek to make tomorrow better than today. For love of my Emperor and for the glory of Aramanth!’

      Then they all sat down again, and the Chief Examiner made a short speech. Maslo Inch, still only in his mid-forties, had been recently elevated to the highest level: but so tall and powerful was his appearance, and so deep his voice, that he looked and acted as if he had been wearing white all his life. Hanno Hath, who had known Maslo Inch a long time, saw this with quiet amusement.

      ‘My friends,’ intoned the Chief Examiner, ‘what a special day this is, the first test day of your beloved child. How proud you must be to know that from today, your little son or daughter will have his or her own personal rating. How proud they will be, as they come to understand that by their own efforts they can contribute to your family rating.’ Here he raised a hand in friendly warning, and gave them all a grave look. ‘But never forget that the rating itself means nothing. All that matters is how you improve your rating. Better today than yesterday. Better tomorrow than today. That is the spirit that has made our city great.’

      The scarlet-gowned Examiners then fanned out across the front row of desks and began working their way down the lines. Maslo Inch, as Chief Examiner, remained on the podium like a tower, overseeing all. Inevitably his scanning gaze fell in time on Hanno Hath. A twinkle of recognition glowed for a moment in the corner of one eye, and then faded again as his gaze moved on. Hanno Hath shrugged to himself. He and Maslo Inch were exact contemporaries. They had been in the same class at school. But that was all long ago now.

      The tests were marked as they were completed, and the marks conveyed to the big chalkboard at the front. Quite soon, a ranking began to emerge among the infants. The Blesh child was close to the top, with 23 points out of a possible 30, a rating of 7.6. Because B came earlier than H, the Blesh family were finished before the Haths had begun, and Mrs Blesh came down the aisle with her triumphant infant in her arms to pass on the benefit of their experience.

      ‘The silly fellow left out number five,’ she explained. ‘One, two, three, four, six.’ She wagged a mock-angry finger at the child. ‘Four, five, six, you silly! You know that! I’m sure Pinto does.’

      ‘Actually, Pinpin can count to a million,’ said Kestrel.

      ‘I think we’re telling tiny stories,’ said Mrs Blesh, patting Kestrel on the head. ‘He got cow, and book, and cup,’ she went on. ‘He СКАЧАТЬ