The books faded as Walden sighed. "You'd be surprised what the old race did, with just those—boxes."
He looked across at Eric, who was now bouncing his ball and counting, out loud, up to three, and then going back and starting again.
"The boy can learn what's in those books. Just as if he'd gone to school back in the old times."
Myron and Gwin looked doubtfully at each other, and then over at the corner where Eric played unheeding. Perhaps Walden could help. Perhaps....
"Eric," Gwin said aloud.
"Yes, mother?"
"We've decided you're going to go to school, the way you want to. Mr. Walden here is going to be your teacher. Isn't that nice?"
Eric looked at her and then at the old man. Strangers didn't often come out on the sunporch. Strangers usually left him alone.
He bounced the ball again without answering.
"Say something, Eric," his mother commanded.