The Kingdom on the Edge of Reality Read Online Free PDF Page A

disapproved slightly of fox hunting. I heard her refer to it once in private as being
déclassé;
but they didn't mind if Albert and I went occasionally. They understood that since we were locked up in school most of the time, we had to blow off some steam.
    When we got back to school, back to the classes and books and endless papers and tests, life at the old homestead seemed like a half-remembered dream. I would go back to pestering people about liberty, justice, and human rights whenever I began to worry that I was starting to blend in too well with my upper-class surroundings. I persuaded myself that my trips to Albert's home were in no way inconsistent with my ideals. There was a time for classes and studying and bandying ideas about, which was most of the time; occasionally there was an opportunity to have fun. When I was having fun, I told myself, I was entitled to make the most of it.
    Anyway, the enemies, according to my teenage ideals, were people obsessed with making money, and who made it by exploiting people, that is by lying, cheating, double-dealing, and card-sharping the innocent and helpless. Albert's parents couldn't have cared less about making money; they were not in any way sly or venal. On the contrary, Albert's father was always running off to some meeting about some hospital or library he was founding, and his mother was often busy with charities. And if they occasionally forgot to say thank you to elevator operators and doormen, they were very friendly to their own servants and let them take home all the leftovers.
    From our first meeting, the Keanes were very nice to me. When Albert told them that my family was in show business, I saw Mrs. Keane raise one hair on one eyebrow about a tenth of a millimeter. But except for that one moment, I always felt completely accepted and welcomed as though I was a member of the family. In addition to the horse they kept especially for me to ride, I also had my own room with my own closet and bath. I had a particular chair in the dining room where I always sat to eat. And when it was time to head back to school, Mrs. Keane always reminded me that they wanted me to think of the old homestead as my own home.
    Mr. and Mrs. Keane were glad to see that Albert had a friend. He was their only living child, and he had been more than a little sheltered. I understood that. They were also a little short on kids. Albert's older brother had died young, and Mrs. Keane, for some medical reason, could not have any more children. I understood that too.
    What I did not really understand was that they genuinely liked me just for myself. Like the majority of young people, I hadn't yet learned to like myself very much. And my own family had sent me away. So it puzzled me and made me uncomfortable sometimes to be treated so well by these people.
    What I also did not understand at all was what an inestimable blessing it was to have the patronage of such a powerful family. A lot of parents who sent their children to prep schools went down on their knees every night praying that Junior would find a friend with a family as rich as the Keanes. Such parents told their children right up front that they were being sent to school to make friends in influential circles and never to forget it.
    I didn't understand any of that at the time. I don't think anybody ever explained to me what I was doing at that school. The first time my parents approached me about going there, I said no way in hell. The second time they talked to me about it I said oh all right. That's all I remember. I was tired of horrible fights and breaking glass keeping me up until all hours of the night, so I let them talk me into going. Whatever they may have said about it being for my own good, I disregarded as typical adult lies and subterfuge and forgot about it. Anyway, I had no clear notion of why I was being sent there, and mostly I felt like they just wanted to get rid of me.
    When the Keanes took me in, I was very touched