FACT FINDING

How's this:

"Jon was raised in a foreign country, in a remote district. He learned to speak the language of that area-probably before he learned English. Because it was a primitive sort of place, there was no money, and all trade was by barter. Naturally they had no cars there. But his folks had a radio, so they could keep in touch with the outside world. Wouldn't be surprised if his folks were missionaries. Does this Sound right to you?"

Mary said, "Why must you be so-so reasonable Thomas? But go ahead. Name some places like that."

"Oh that's easy. I've been in a number of places like that. Parts of India, the Middle East, North Africa, and even South America. Those clothes could have been woven by Indians in the Andes."

"Nonsense," Mary Bean said. "Those people weave only with animal fibers and cotton. The material in Jon's clothes didn't come from any of the places you mentioned."

"Well," Thomas asked, "Then where did it come from?"

"Not from any place you know about and while you're thinking of places, you might consider how he got here. That really stumps me."

"He must have flown, Mary."

"In what kind of plane, Thomas?"

"Oh, a small private one, I'd say one that hasn't Ben missed yet. It has to be that. There's no other solution. You see when we found him; he was still wearing the clothes he must have put on when he left home. He'd hardly be wearing such odd-looking things if he had been in this country long enough to change them. I wished I'd thought of this earlier! He must have come in a plane and it must have crashed somewhere here in the mountains. We'd better organize a search party-"

Mary was shaking her head. "No, Thomas. Jon has never seen a plane in his life. He saw pictures of some in one of our magazines yesterday and asked me what they were."

Thomas stared at her, and then turned. Is that true, Jon?"

"Yes, sir, I'm certain I've never been in a plane, Mr. Bean."

"But your memory, Jon-"

"My lost memory doesn't keep me from knowing familiar things," he said earnestly.

"H'mm. Well, what is familiar to you?"

"Radios are familiar, sir. Books are very familiar. Deer and-and singing birds and birds like chickens are all familiar. And dogs."

"Cows and horses?"

"Horses, yes. But I'm sure I have never seen a creature quite like a cow before or machines like planes and automobiles. Of course, the idea of all those machines is familiar, and some of them seem familiar, like spaceships and-"

"Spaceships?"

Mary Bean said, "He saw drawings of spaceships in one of the magazines."

"But I've never been in one," Jon hastened to say. "It's just that I feel like I've seen them. They are not strange like- like snakes and cows and- and the language you speak."

Thomas Bean sat down. He began snapping his fingers, his face blank. Speech seemed to have deserted him.

Mary laughed. "You wanted facts, Mr. Sherlock Holmes Bean. We'll toss a couple more at you, Jon, show Him your knife. I'll get the clip."

The clip was gold filigree, set with a blue stone. The knife, which had been entirely hidden by its woven sheaf, was small, with a short, thin blade that looked like gold. Its handle was of finely carved wood, with a blue stone set in the golden hilt.

"Well?" said Mary after Thomas had been examining the articles silently for several minutes. "You've been around, Thomas. You're supposed to know something of gems and jewelry. Where were those things made?"

Thomas shook his head. "I've never seen such work. If these stones are real, but, of course, they can't be. Star sapphires like these . . . H'mm." he picked up a sliver of wood and sliced it with the knife.

"Sharp as a razor! Must be a special gold alloy."

Suddenly he stood up. "Let's go down to the shop. I'd like to test these stones."

As they went down the lane, Jon heard Rascal bark and was aware of the eager question in it. "Soon," he called out to Rascal. "I have not forgotten." Thomas oblivious to what just happened went ahead to unlock the shop door while Mary who also didn't see Jon call to Rascal followed him inside with Jon on tow. "Why do you keep the door locked?"

He asked peering curiously and with quick interest at the rocks cramming the shelves and heaped in the corners and at the glass case full of trays of gems.

Mary said, "Locks are to keep out thieves."

"Thieves? Thieves?" It was another new word with a confusing thought behind it.

"A thief is a person who steals," she explained. "We have a lot of valuable things in the shop. If the windows weren't barred and the door didn't have a good lock on it, somebody might break in and take everything we own even the safe."

"B-but why-"

Thomas asked, "Don't people steal where you're from?"

"Of course not! Why would they? It seems so stupid. They-"

"Go on!" Mary urged. "You're remembering."

"I-" He shook his head. "I almost thought of something, but it's gone. I only know that stealing is stupid and foolish. I'm sure I've never heard of people doing it. Why would they?"

"It's one way to make money-" Thomas began dryly, "That If you don't mind risking jail. Some people will do anything for money. They'll even start a war."

"Jail? Money? War?"

"Here we go again!" said Mary face palming. "You see, Thomas, English is strange to him, because it contains ideas that are strange."

Jon listened carefully, holding back his astonishment, as she proceeded to explain. One subject led to another and before they knew it they've been in the shop for over two hours but they didn't care much, they still had time. Mary Bean had finished about war and was touching upon government and rulers and power when they were interrupted . . .