boys, two of the younger kids ducked into the entrance and shouted a call.
“Eli, let’s stop here,” Grant called out, slowing his pace.
“Okay, Dad,” Eli agreed. He turned his body in to the sideways sliding stop that he was working to perfect and executed it smartly. “Suh-weet!”
Grant smiled and pulled up to the growing crowd of boys. They ranged in ages from five to twelve and were obviously excited at the foreign sight he and Eli provided. It wasn’t often that they experienced anything new or exciting, and two humans—one a boy—riding on wheeled shoes certainly filled the bill. They pointed and laughed, but respectfully kept their distance. Most of them knew who Grant was and, for those who didn’t, the rank on his green uniform let them know he was someone important in the fight against the alien Minith.
“Are you General Justice?” one of the younger boys asked. In response, he received a smack to the back of his head from one of the older kids.
“Of course he is, dimwit,” the older chastised. The look he gave warned of additional violence if the younger boy spoke up again. Grant watched in dismay as the questioner and several other boys cast their eyes to the ground.
“Actually, that’s a darn good, question, son,” Grant replied. The younger boy looked up eagerly and Grant met his gaze with a nod. He then turned his attention to the older boy and looked him in the eye.
“In my day, it was commonly known that the only dumb question was one that didn’t get asked.” It was the older boy’s turn to look downward. It was apparent that he was not used to anyone countering his proclamations. Grant guessed he was the leader of this group.
“I’m General Justice, and this is my son, Eli.”
Eli waved to the group, smiled, and did a perfect 360-degree spin. The boys hooted and laughed. A couple of them turned circles of their own, without blades. Grant heard several cries of “what are those” and “those are awesome” and “whoa!”
“Pretty cool, huh?” Eli asked as he performed another spin.
“Cool?” the leader asked. “Is that what you call them?”
Grant laughed. “Nah, these are called roller blades. ‘Cool’ is just something we used to say when I was younger,” he explained. “It means that something is new and exciting.”
“Yeah. As in ‘these roller blades are cool,’” Eli explained. Grant knew Eli was used to his anachronisms and his use of ancient phrases, but it was kind of “cool” to see his son explain them to someone.
“Cool,” the leader agreed.
“What’s your name, son?” Grant asked the leader.
“Jonah.”
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Jonah.” Grant leaned down and held out his hand. Jonah just stared at the proffered appendage.
“You’re supposed to grab it and shake it,” Eli explained. He rolled over to the younger boy who had received a smack from Jonah earlier, grabbed his right hand, and pumped it twice. “Like this.”
The younger boy smiled and returned the handshake. Grant knew that Eli had just made a friend.
All eyes turned to Jonah as he slowly reached up and took Grant’s hand. He imitated the two pumps.
“It is a pleasure to meet you as well, General Justice.”
Grant grinned at the formal Standard speech. Jonah had good manners, which was a promising sign.
“Great. Now that we’ve got some of the introductions out of the way, I think it might be a good idea for you boys to try roller blading. Would you like that?” Grant asked.
He was met by a chorus of shouts and cheers.
When the initial excitement died down, Grant explained that the only roller blades in existence were the pairs he and Eli wore. However, he promised to talk with Senior Scientist Tane Roland the next day and assured them that they would get their chance to roller blade soon.
The group then spent ten minutes checking out his and Eli’s blades. Eli showed them what he could do after only an hour or so of blading, and
“Eli, let’s stop here,” Grant called out, slowing his pace.
“Okay, Dad,” Eli agreed. He turned his body in to the sideways sliding stop that he was working to perfect and executed it smartly. “Suh-weet!”
Grant smiled and pulled up to the growing crowd of boys. They ranged in ages from five to twelve and were obviously excited at the foreign sight he and Eli provided. It wasn’t often that they experienced anything new or exciting, and two humans—one a boy—riding on wheeled shoes certainly filled the bill. They pointed and laughed, but respectfully kept their distance. Most of them knew who Grant was and, for those who didn’t, the rank on his green uniform let them know he was someone important in the fight against the alien Minith.
“Are you General Justice?” one of the younger boys asked. In response, he received a smack to the back of his head from one of the older kids.
“Of course he is, dimwit,” the older chastised. The look he gave warned of additional violence if the younger boy spoke up again. Grant watched in dismay as the questioner and several other boys cast their eyes to the ground.
“Actually, that’s a darn good, question, son,” Grant replied. The younger boy looked up eagerly and Grant met his gaze with a nod. He then turned his attention to the older boy and looked him in the eye.
“In my day, it was commonly known that the only dumb question was one that didn’t get asked.” It was the older boy’s turn to look downward. It was apparent that he was not used to anyone countering his proclamations. Grant guessed he was the leader of this group.
“I’m General Justice, and this is my son, Eli.”
Eli waved to the group, smiled, and did a perfect 360-degree spin. The boys hooted and laughed. A couple of them turned circles of their own, without blades. Grant heard several cries of “what are those” and “those are awesome” and “whoa!”
“Pretty cool, huh?” Eli asked as he performed another spin.
“Cool?” the leader asked. “Is that what you call them?”
Grant laughed. “Nah, these are called roller blades. ‘Cool’ is just something we used to say when I was younger,” he explained. “It means that something is new and exciting.”
“Yeah. As in ‘these roller blades are cool,’” Eli explained. Grant knew Eli was used to his anachronisms and his use of ancient phrases, but it was kind of “cool” to see his son explain them to someone.
“Cool,” the leader agreed.
“What’s your name, son?” Grant asked the leader.
“Jonah.”
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Jonah.” Grant leaned down and held out his hand. Jonah just stared at the proffered appendage.
“You’re supposed to grab it and shake it,” Eli explained. He rolled over to the younger boy who had received a smack from Jonah earlier, grabbed his right hand, and pumped it twice. “Like this.”
The younger boy smiled and returned the handshake. Grant knew that Eli had just made a friend.
All eyes turned to Jonah as he slowly reached up and took Grant’s hand. He imitated the two pumps.
“It is a pleasure to meet you as well, General Justice.”
Grant grinned at the formal Standard speech. Jonah had good manners, which was a promising sign.
“Great. Now that we’ve got some of the introductions out of the way, I think it might be a good idea for you boys to try roller blading. Would you like that?” Grant asked.
He was met by a chorus of shouts and cheers.
When the initial excitement died down, Grant explained that the only roller blades in existence were the pairs he and Eli wore. However, he promised to talk with Senior Scientist Tane Roland the next day and assured them that they would get their chance to roller blade soon.
The group then spent ten minutes checking out his and Eli’s blades. Eli showed them what he could do after only an hour or so of blading, and
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