~ Ada ~

The Price Of Acceptance

"Ada! Ada come quickly!"

Ada grabbed her glasses as she leapt out of bed, bare feet padding quietly against soft carpet as she scurried out of her room, down the corridor, and into the collection of sounds and smells that was her father's laboratory. He looked up from one of the larger cages, his wide bearded face the very picture of delight.

"It's the squirrels, Ada! The squirrels! They will not listen to Hans!"

Ada stared at her father, then adjusted her glasses.

"Do you know what time it is?" she asked, her tone gentle.

"Time? Time? It is some time, it is the time when I discovered that the squirrels will not listen to Hans, what does it matter, time? Come here and observe with me, and let us hope we are obliged."

Ada picked her way through her father's laboratory—it wasn't a small room, just cluttered with desks and tables and chairs, which in turn were covered with cages and crates and terrariums. By the time she'd joined him at the large squirrel cage—actually a reproduction of their natural environment, there was even a good sized tree—he was almost hopping with impatience.

"Come on now, you can perform the scaring," he said, handing Ada a hand puppet made to resemble an owl. "I think you are old enough to do that, what are you now, you are thirteen years old?"

"I'm nearly fifteen, Dad."

"Yes, that's right," said Ada's father. "Now let us concentrate a moment. You know Hans?"

"Of course," said Ada, slipping the puppet over her hand as her father quietly opened the cage. "He's that little one there."

"They are ALL little ones," her father said, with a quiet chuckle. "But you're correct. Wait, watch, then swoop!"

Ada watched for a moment, then thrust her hand forward, creating the appearance of an owl swooping down upon the hapless squirrel. Immediately it scampered away, chittering wildly.

"Now watch, watch the others," Ada's father said, as Ada pulled her arm out of the cage and he closed it. Ada peered through the bars, watched as Hans ran towards the tree, watched as the other squirrels ... didn't react in the slightest, went on doing whatever it was they were doing beforehand, apparently oblivious to Hans' panicked chitters.

"You see? No reaction! Can you guess why? Of course, it is because Hans," Ada's father said, taking the puppet back from his daughter, "is the squirrel who cried 'owl'! Too many times has he called out, 'Danger! There is danger!' when in truth there is none. Too many times has he sent the other squirrels running for safety when there is no need to do so. And so now when Hans cries 'Danger!' the other squirrels simply think, 'Oh Hans, you have too much imagination'."

Ada smiled, then slipped her hand into her father's.

"Don't you think it's so interesting?" he said, looking down at her.

"I do, Dad ... but it's late. You should get some sleep. Did you eat tonight?"

"Egg," he said. "There was an egg, I believe. I think I ate an egg. Or was that yesterday? How long have I been awake? There are no windows here, it is so easy to lose track of the time."

While her father talked Ada was guiding him around his laboratory, and he was automatically extinguishing the lamps.

"Well, now you should sleep," she said.

"I must have eaten," he said, as she led him to his bedroom. "Because I don't feel hungry. If I don't feel hungry, then I must have eaten. Or is that a false conclusion? This requires further thought."

"You can think about it more in the morning," said Ada, as she gently pushed her father into his room. "For now you should get undressed and sleep."

"Yes, yes, you're right, because I am tired—that is a fact, a solid fact. Thank you, my daughter."

"You're welcome. Good night, Dad."

"Good night, my treasure."

Ada went to close the door, smiling as she heard her father speak—

"But was it not wonderful that they ignored Hans?"