Holding Wonder

I shivered too and rubbed my cold ankles with both hands. I wondered wistfully if this wasn't asking just a trifle too much of my ability to believe, even in the name of moonlight.
Vincent brought me back abruptly to my particular Earth. "Look! Here they are already! Gollee! That was fast. They sure must be mad!" And he trailed out onto the playground.
I looked expectantly toward the road and only whirled the other way when I heard the thud of feet. And there they stood, both Mr. and Mrs. Kroginold. And he did look mad! His-well-rough-hewn is about the kindest description-face frowning in the moonlight. Mrs. Kroginold surged toward Vincent and Mr.
Kroginold swelled preliminary to a vocal blast-or so I feared-so I stepped quickly into the silence.
"There's our school capsule," I said, motioning towards the crushed clutter at the base of the boulder. "That's what he was planning to go up in to rescue a man in a disabled sputnik. He thought the air inside that shiny whatever he put around himself would suffice for the trip. He says a man is dying up there, and he's been carrying that agony around with him, all alone, because he was afraid to tell you."
I stopped for a breath and Mr. Kroginold deflated and –amazingly-grinned a wide, attractive grin, half silver, half shadow.
"Why the gutsy little devil!" he said admiringly. "And "I've been fearing the stock was running out! When I was a boy in the canyon-" But he sobered suddenly and turned to Vincent. "Vince! If there's need, let's get with it. What's the deal?" He gathered Vincent into the curve of his arm, and we all went back to the porch. "Now. Details." We all sat.
Vincent, his eyes intent on his father's face and his hand firmly holding his mother's, detailed.
"There are two men orbiting up there. The capsule won't function properly. One man is dead. I never did hear him. The other one is crying for help." Vincent's face tightened anxiously. "He-he feels so bad that it nearly kills me. Only sometimes I guess he passes out because the feeling goes away-like now. Then it comes back worse-"
"He's orbiting," said Mr. Kroginold, his eyes intent on Vincent's face.
"Oh," said Vincent weakly, "of course! I didn't think of that! Oh, Dad! I'm so stupid!" And he flung himself on Mr. Kroginold.
"No," said Mr. Kroginold, wrapping him around with the dark strength of his arms. "Just young. You'll learn. But first learn to bring your problems to your mother and me. That's what we're for!"
"But," said Vincent. "I'm not supposed to listen in
"Did you seek him out?" asked Mr. Kroginold. "Did you know about the capsule?"
"No," said Vincent. "He just came in to me-"
"See?" Mr. Kroginold set Vincent back on the step "You weren't listening in. You were invaded. You just happened to be the right receptivity. Now, what were your plans?"
"They were probably stupid, too," admitted Vincent. "But I was going to lift our capsule-I had to have something to put him in-and try to intercept the orbit of the other one. Then I was going to get the man out-I don't know how-and bring him back to Earth and put him down at the FBI building in Washington. They'd know how to get him home again."
"Well," Mr. Kroginold smiled faintly. "Your plan has the virtue of simplicity, anyway. Just nit-picking, though, I can see one slight problem. How would the FBI ever convince the authorities in his country that we hadn't impounded the capsule for our own nefarious purposes?" Then he became very business-like.
"Lizbeth, will you get in touch with Ron? I think he's in Kerry tonight. Lucky
our best Motiver is This End right now. I'll see if Jemmy is up-canyon. We'll get his okay on Remy's craft at the Selkirk. If this has been going on for very long, time is what we've got little of."
It was rather anti-climactic after all those efficient rattlings-out of directions to see the three of them just sit quietly there on the step, hands clasped, their faces lifted a little in the moonlight, their eyes closed. My left foot was beginning to go to sleep when Vincent's chin finally dropped, and he pulled one hand free from his mother's grasp to curl his arm up over his head. Mrs. Kroginold's eyes flipped open. "Vincent?" Her voice was anxious. "It's coming again," I said. "That distress-whatever if is."
"Ron's heading for the Selkirk now," she said, gathering Vincent to her. "Jake, Vincent's receiving again."
Mr. Kroginold said hastily to the eaves of the porch, "-as soon as possible. Hang on. Vincent's got him again. Wait, I'll relay. Vince, where can I reach him? Show me." And darned if they didn't all sit there again-with Vincent's face shining with sweat and his mother trying to cradle his twisting body. Then Mr. Kroginold gave a grunt, and Vincent relaxed with a sob. His father took him from his mother.
"Already?" I asked. "That was a short one." Mrs. Kroginold fished for a tissue in her pocket and wiped Vincent's face. "It isn't over yet," she said. "It won't be until the capsule swings behind the Earth again, but he's channeling the distress to his father, and he's relaying it to Jemmy up-canyon. Jemmy is our Old One. He'll help us handle it from here on out. But Vincent will have to be our receptor-"
" `A sort of telepathy,'" I quoted, dizzy with trying to follow a road I couldn't even imagine.
"A sort of telepathy." Mrs. Kroginold laughed and sighed, her finger tracing Vincent's cheek lovingly. "You've had quite a mish-mash dumped in your lap, haven't you? And no time for us to be subtle."
"It is bewildering," I said. "I've been adding two and two and getting the oddest fours!"
"Like?" she asked.
"Like maybe Vincent's forefathers didn't come over in the Mayflower, but maybe a spaceship?"
"But not quite Mayflower years ago," she smiled. "And?"
"And maybe Vincent's Dad has seen no life on the moon?"
"Not so very long ago," she said. "And?"
"And maybe there is a man in distress up there and you are going to try to rescue him?"
"Well," said Mrs. Kroginold. "Those fours look all right to me."
"They do?" I goggled. Then I sighed, "Ah well, this modern math! I knew it would be the end of me!"
Mr. Kroginold brought his eyes back to us. "Well, it's all set in motion.
Ron's gone for the craft. He'll be here to pick us up as soon as he can make it. Jemmy's taking readings on the capsule so we'll be able to attempt rendezvous. Then, the Power being willing, we'll be able to bring the fellow back:"
"I-I-" I stood up. This was suddenly too much. "I think maybe I'd better go back in the house." I brushed the sand off the back of my robe. "One thing bothers me still, though:"
"Yes?" Mrs. Kroginold smiled.
"How is the FBI going to convince the authorities of the other country?"
"Ay!" she said sobering. "Jake-" And I gathered my skirts up and left the family there on the school porch. As I closed the teacherage door behind me, I leaned against it. It was so dark-in here. And it was such light out there! Why, they had jumped into helping without asking one single question! Then I wondered what questions I had expected-Was the man a nice man? Was he worth saving? Was he an important person?. What kind of reward? Is there a need? That's all they needed to know!
I looked at the sleepcoat I hadn't worn yet, but I felt too morning to undress and go to bed properly, so I slid out my robe and put my dress back on. And my shoes. And sweater. And stood irresolutely in the middle of the floor. After all! What is the etiquette for when your guests about to go into orbit from your front porch?