K Parker - Pattern

'Oh, that one.' Elja nodded. 'That's an old one, everyone knows that. You know, you're a very strange person to talk to.'

I'm a very strange person to talk to. 'Really? In what way?'

'Well-' She made a vague gesture. 'I can't see what you're thinking. It makes things so difficult, I've got to say everything I mean. Don't you find it's a real nuisance?'

'No,' Poldarn admitted, 'not really. Look, maybe you can tell me about this, nobody else seems to want to. When you're talking to them-I mean, your family, other people-can you really see what they're thinking?'

'Sure,' she replied, faintly surprised. 'And they can see me back. And you can't, then.'

'No. In fact, I can't even imagine what it'd be like. Pretty strange, I should imagine.'

'Oh. I'd have said it was the other way round. Like being blind or something-you can't see what things are like, you can only hear. How can anybody manage to live like that?'

'People seem to cope, where I come from. I mean, where I've been. For a start, you listen to what people say, and then you know what they're thinking. If they want to tell you, that is. And if not, you've got to try and figure it out, from what they're doing, stuff like that.'

'Oh. But I always thought that over there-' she made a small gesture with her left hand '-they don't always tell things like they really are. I mean, they say things that aren't true.'

'That's right,' Poldarn said. 'Quite a lot of the time, in fact. You get used to it.'

'Really?'

'It's quite easy. Most people, when they're lying, they start acting funny. They won't look you in the eye, or their voices change slightly. It's because they're afraid of being found out.'

Elja thought about that for a moment. 'Yes, but that's only the ones you know about,' she said. 'What about the ones who're really good at it and don't know all that stuff? It could be that most people are saying untrue things most of the time, but you don't know how many of them are doing it because the only ones you find out are the ones who aren't good at it and give themselves away, like you said.'

It took Poldarn a moment to untangle that lot. 'It doesn't work like that,' he said. 'Actually it's very hard to tell lies without getting caught out sooner or later. Besides, most of the time there wouldn't be any point. Like, suppose I'd fallen in a river and I couldn't swim, and someone shouted out, "Are you all right?" and I shouted back, "Yes, I'm fine". Then I'd drown.'

'Yes,' Elja replied thoughtfully, 'but that sort of thing doesn't happen very often, surely. Most of the time, you'd just be talking about ordinary stuff, where nobody can check up easily and really, you could say what you liked and nobody'd know, if you didn't make the silly mistakes.'

'True,' Poldarn replied, 'but why bother?'

Elja sighed. 'I don't know,' she said. 'But you see what I mean, about it being hard for me to talk to you. I can't even tell if you like me or not.'

'I-' Poldarn shrugged. 'If I told you I do, you might say I'm lying.'

'Exactly,' Elja said gloomily. 'It's so difficult, isn't it? Father says it's just because you've been away, and you'll get back to being normal sooner or later. Do you think you ever will?'

'No idea.'

'Oh.' Elja seemed to shrug the whole subject out of her mind. 'You know,' she said, 'it's funny you saying about that old song. What with the mountain and everything.'

Poldarn frowned. 'Is it?'

'Of course-or don't you know that bit of the song?'

'Which bit?'

She laughed. 'The bit you don't know, of course.'

'Oh. That bit.' He looked away. 'Tell me how it goes, it might come back if you jog my memory.'

'If you like.' She frowned. 'I won't sing it, because I'm not very good at singing. It goes something likeOld crow sitting on the chimney top, Old crow sitting on the chimney top, Old crow sitting on the chimney top; Dodger lit the fire and he made him hop.'

Poldarn thought for a moment. 'No,' he said, 'I don't remember that bit at all.'

'Oh. But you could've been telling an untruth when you said that.'

Poldarn smiled. 'And you could've just made it up, to worry me. I'd never know, would I?'

'I suppose not. That's a thought,' Elja said. 'It means I could tell you a whole lot of stuff that isn't true, and you'd never find out. That could be very good.'

Poldarn shook his head. 'I'd know,' he replied.

'Bet you wouldn't. Not if I was careful.'

'All right,' Poldarn said. 'Let's try it out, shall we? You say something, and I've got to guess if it' s true or not.'

She laughed again; she was good at laughter, unlike most of these people. 'All right,' she said. 'Oh, now I can't think of anything to say.'

'True.'

'Silly. I hadn't started yet.'

'Also true.'

'Stop it!' Elja's face was glowing with unexpected happiness, as if this was something she'd dreamed about once or twice but never believed could actually happen. 'You're teasing me. Now, let's start again and play the game properly.'

Poldarn twisted his face into a mask of terrible solemnity, making her burst out in giggles. He could feel four pairs of eyes boring holes in the back of his head, and was surprised at how very easy it was to ignore them. 'Ready?'

She spluttered. 'Yes.'

'Not true.'

'Not fair!' It was the joyful rage of a ten-year-old, everything forgotten except the game. 'If you're going to cheat, I'm not going to play any more.'

'It's not cheating.'

'It is too cheating. I can't see what you're going to say next.'

That brought Poldarn up short. For a while there, he could almost have believed he was talking to a regular human being, albeit a very young one. Now, though, she'd taken that one enormous difference and dropped it down between them. 'All right,' he said, 'we won't play any more. Besides, I think it's making your father nervous, all this laughing.'

Elja shook her head. 'Oh no,' she said. 'He's a bit taken aback and he's trying to figure out whether he approves or not, but he thinks he probably does. You know, on balance. Because, well, if I like you, he might as well like you too, since we're all going to be family.'

Poldarn nodded. 'I see,' he said. 'And you can read all that, can you, without even looking round?'

'Sure.'

He sighed. 'Well,' he said, 'at least it explains why you people don't go in much for jokes. No point, if the other person can see the punchline in your head before you've even started.'

She frowned a little. 'You think it's not as funny that way?'

'How do you mean?'

'I was wondering,' she replied, 'how you can ever make jokes, if you've got to do it a bit at a time. We see the whole thing all at once. You know,' she added, 'I've never actually thought about it before. It's really strange, talking to you. It makes me think about a lot of stuff I've always taken for granted.'

'Glad to be of service.'

'I'm not sure it's a good thing,' Elja said seriously. 'That's the whole point about being able to take things for granted, you can rely on them without having to check up on them all the time to see if they're still there. You know, like shoes, or the roof of your house. There's enough difficulties already without making new ones.'

Poldarn shrugged. 'Must be nice to be able to take things for granted,' he said. 'Not so easy when you're my age, and you can only remember back a few months. You can't really assume anything.'

Elja's eyes were wide as she looked up at him. 'It must've been terrible,' she said. 'I mean, not even knowing who you are, let alone other people. I bet you're glad you're home again, after all that.'

Poldarn thought before answering. 'I was,' he said, 'for a couple of days after we set sail. Actually, I'd had rather a rough time just before we left the Empire, I was really glad to see the back of it. Even here, though, it's not coming easily. There's so much about-well, us, I guess, that I don't know; and nobody's prepared to tell me, because it's usually so basic they can't begin to imagine I don't know it already.'