“Whatcha want, mister?” the apparent leader challenged. “Looks like you could use a dip in the fountain yourself.”
Phule grinned ruefully along with the titters of laughter. He hadn’t had a chance to clean himself up yet, and if anything he looked worse than the urchins.
“I was just wondering if you could tell me a little about your boards,” he said. “Are they hard to operate?”
The kids glanced at each other, torn between their love of their boards and the temptation to tease an adult. The boards won.
They’re a little tricky at first,” the spokesman admitted. “You’ve got to learn to keep your center of balance low or they’ll toss you off.”
“With a little practice …”
“With a lot of practice …”
“You can make ‘em do just about anything …”
“You want to give it a try?”
“Once you get the hang of it …”
Now that the barrier was broken, the information came in a torrent as the kids all tried to talk about their passion at once. Phule listened for a few moments, then waved them into silence.
“What I really want to know,” he said in a conspiratorial voice that brought the kids crowding closer, “is if you think you could teach a Sinthian to ride one of these things … Have any of you ever met a Sinthian?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Journal #091
Their success on the confidence course, not to mention their pride in their new “uniforms,” seemed to mark a turning point in the attitudes of the Legionnaires. As a whole and as individuals, the company began to embrace their new commander’s belief that “we can do anything if we work together and are not too picky about how we do it!”