Page 418

He found a box of reading material in one of the bunker’s closets, but there wasn’t anything suited for toddlers. There was barely even anything suited for him. Almost every book seemed to require a very high reading level, which only served to remind him that he would probably never finish high school. He wasn’t sure it made much difference, though. He’d never been especially comfortable in any of his language classes.

Hector did, however, manage to get his hands on some music. Scrounging through all the cars in the garage paid off quite handsomely. He seemed to recall hearing somewhere that classical music was best for child development, so he tried to stick with that as much as possible. And in the meantime, he worked on getting the kids on their feet, which was easier than he expected.

Stephanie and Thomas were quite ready to walk, as long as Hector held their hands. They stumbled all the time, but usually got right back up or just resorted to crawling for a little while. He could hardly believe how adorable the whole thing was. It was entirely too easy to understand why people wanted to film stuff like this. He tried to give the kids the opportunity to walk on their own, but they weren’t quite there yet. They were happy enough to crawl toward him, though.

The other big thing was conversation. Also not Hector’s strongest area, but with a bit of encouragement from Garovel, he did his best. He talked to them pretty much nonstop, using their names, trying to listen and respond whenever they babbled back at him. It didn’t seem to be doing much, but he supposed it was too soon to expect any kind of result.

The twins seemed to enjoy watching him make and unmake iron. It held their attention, the way the metal suddenly accumulated and then disappeared again. It got them to look at him with those wondrous little expressions of curiosity, which as Garovel reminded him, was immensely important.