Charles Wallace looked troubled. I dont think its that. Its being able to understand a sort of language, like sometimes if I concentrate very hard I can understand the wind talking with the trees. You tell me, you see, sort of inad inadvertently. Thats a good word, isnt it? I got mother to look it up in the dictionary for me this morning.
Ahead of them Fortinbras started barking loudly, the warning bay that usually told them that a car was coming up the road or that someone was at the door.
Somebodys here, Charles Wallace said sharply. Somebodys hanging around the house. Come on. He started to run, his short legs straining. At the edge of the woods Fortinbras stood in front of a boy, barking furiously.
As they came panting up the boy said, For heavens sake, call off your dog.
Who is he? Charles Wallace asked Meg.
Calvin OKeefe. Hes older than I am. Hes a big bug.
Its all right, fella. Im not going to hurt you, the boy said to Fortinbras.
Sit, Fort, Charles Wallace commanded, and Fortinbras dropped to his haunches in front of the boy, a low growl still pulsing in his dark throat.
Okay. Charles Wallace put his hands on his hips. Now tell us what youre doing here.
I might ask the same of you, the boy said with some indignation. Arent you two of the Murry kids? This isnt your property, is it? He started to move, but Fortinbrass growl grew louder and he stopped.
Tell me about him, Meg, Charles Wallace demanded.
What would I know about him? Meg asked. Hes a couple of grades above me, and hes on the basketball team.
Just because Im tall. Calvin sounded a little embarrassed. Tall he certainly was, and skinny. His bony wrists stuck out of the sleeves of his blue sweater; his worn corduroy trousers were three inches too short. He had orange hair that needed cutting and the appropriate freckles to go with it. His eyes were an oddly bright blue.
Tell us what youre doing here, Charles Wallace said.
What is this? The third degree? Arent you the one whos supposed to be the moron?
Meg flushed with rage, but Charles Wallace answered placidly, Thats right. If you want me to call my dog off youd better give.
Most peculiar moron Ive ever met, Calvin said. I just came to get away from my family
Charles Wallace nodded. What kind of family?
They all have runny noses. Im third from the top of eleven kids. Im a sport.
At that Charles Wallace grinned widely. So m I.
I dont mean like in baseball, Calvin said.
Neither do I.
I mean like in biology, Calvin said suspiciously.
A change in gene, Charles Wallace quoted, resulting in the appearance in the offspring of a character which is not present in the parents but which is potentially transmissible to its offspring.
What gives around here? Calvin asked. I was told you couldnt talk.
Thinking Im a moron gives people something to feel smug about, Charles Wallace said. Why should I disillusion them? How old are you, Cal?
Fourteen. And Im bright. Listen, did anybody ask you to come here this afternoon?
Charles Wallace, holding Fort by the collar, looked at Calvin suspiciously. What do you mean, ask?
Calvin shrugged. You still dont trust me, do you?
I dont distrust you, Charles Wallace said.
Do you want to tell me why youre here, then?
Fort and Meg and I decided to go for a walk. We often do in the afternoon.
Calvin dug his hands down in his pockets. Youre holding out on me.
Sore you, Charles Wallace said.
Okay, old sport, Calvin said, Ill tell you this much. Sometimes I get a feeling about things. You might call it a compulsion. Do you know what compulsion means?
Constraint. Obligation. Not a very good definition, but its the Concise Oxford.
Okay, okay, Calvin sighed. I must remember Im preconditioned in my concept of your mentality.
Meg sat down on the coarse grass at the edge of the woods. Fort gently twisted his collar out of Charles Wallaces hands and came over to Meg, lying down beside her and putting his head in her lap.
Calvin tried now politely to direct his words towards Meg as well as Charles Wallace. When I get this feeling, this compulsion, I always do what it tells me. I cant explain where it comes from or how I get it, and it doesnt happen very often. But I obey it. And this afternoon I had a feeling that I must come over to the haunted house. Thats all I know, kid. Im not holding anything back. Maybe its because Im supposed to meet you. You tell me.
Charles Wallace looked at Calvin probingly for a moment; then an almost glazed look came into his eyes, and he seemed to be thinking at him. Calvin stood very still, and waited.
At last Charles Wallace said, Okay. I believe you. But I cant tell you. I think Id like to trust you. Maybe youd better come home with us and have dinner.
Well, sure, but what would your mother say to that? Calvin asked.
Shed be delighted. Mothers all right. Shes not one of us. But shes all right.
What about Meg?
Meg has it tough, Charles Wallace said. Shes not really one thing or the other.
What do you mean, one of us? Meg demanded. What do you mean Im not one thing or the other?
Not now, Meg, Charles Wallace said. Slowly. Ill tell you about it later. He looked at Calvin, then seemed to make a quick decision. Okay, lets take him to meet Mrs Whatsit. If hes not okay shell know. He started off on his short legs towards the dilapidated old house.
The haunted house was half in the shadows of the clump of elms in which it stood. The elms were almost bare now, and the ground around the house was yellow with damp leaves. The late afternoon light had a greenish cast which the blank windows reflected in a sinister way. An unhinged shutter thumped. Something else creaked. Meg did not wonder that the house had a reputation for being haunted.
A board was nailed across the front door, but Charles Wallace led the way round to the back. The door there appeared to be nailed shut, too, but Charles Wallace knocked, and the door swung slowly outwards, creaking on rusty hinges. Up in one of the elms an old black crow gave its raucous cry, and a woodpecker went into a wild ratatat-tat. A large grey rat scuttled around the corner of the house and Meg let out a stifled shriek.
They get a lot of fun out of using all the typical props, Charles Wallace said in a reassuring voice. Come on. Follow me.
Calvin put a strong hand to Megs elbow, and Fort pressed against her leg. Happiness at their concern was so strong in her that her panic fled, and she followed Charles Wallace into the dark recesses of the house without fear.
They went into a sort of kitchen. There was a huge fireplace with a big black pot hanging over a merry fire. Why had there been no smoke visible from the chimney? Something in the pot was bubbling, and it smelled more like one of Mrs Murrys chemical messes than something to eat. In a dilapidated rocking chair sat a plump little woman. She wasnt Mrs Whatsit, so she must, Meg decided, be one of Mrs Whatsits two friends. She wore enormous spectacles, twice as thick and twice as large as Megs, and she was sewing busily, with rapid jabbing stitches, on a sheet. Several other sheets lay on the dusty floor.
Charles Wallace went up to her, I really dont think you ought to have taken Mrs Buncombes sheets without consulting me, he said, as cross and bossy as only a very small boy can be. What on earth do you want them for?
The plump little woman beamed at him. Why, Charlsie, my pet! Le cr a ses raisons que la raison ne connait point. French. Pascal. The heart has its reasons, whereof reason knows nothing.