"All right." I was regaining a little of my composure, but it was evident that I needed more time to think this through. "Let's just forget it for now.... Let's go over to the Rec Hall and have a game of chess, shall we?" Adam was Chess Champ of Fairyland.
Splash-splash-splash. His feet fluttered wildly in the water again. "I can't," he said. Splash-splash-splash.
I raised my eyebrows. "Why not?"
"I'm not through thinking."
What he needs is a spanking, I thought grimly. But spankings were outlawed in Fairyland. They were old-fashioned, and conducive to the generation of neuroses. I'd never considered the regulation as a handicap—until now.
"Okay, feller," I said, with exaggerated calm, "but just let me hear one more report—just one, mind you—about you telling the Kids there's no Santa Claus, or no fairies, and you'll be on the No Ice Cream List for a month!"
Splash-splash-splash. "I get tired of ice cream every day."
I stalked away, not trusting myself to speak.
That night after the Kids were bedded down in the dormitories, Mommy and I stretched out in our lounge-chairs to watch the video-cast from Earth. The news was dull, the kind that reminds you history repeats itself, and so what?