The Eternal Wonder Read Free

became true his private sea grew smaller. Soon he would be too big for his environment. He felt this without knowing that he did. Moreover, he was impinged upon by dim, faraway sounds. Silence had been his surrounding, but now the two small appendages, one on either side of his head, seemed to contain echoes. These appendages had a purpose he could not understand because he could not think, and he could not think because he did not know anything. He could feel, however. He could receive a sensation. Sometimes he wanted to open his mouth to make a sound, but he did not know what a sound was, or even that he wanted to make it. He could not know anything—not yet. He did not even know that he could not know. Instinct was all he had. He was at the mercy of instinct because he knew nothing.
    Instinct, nevertheless, guided him to a final awareness that he was too big for whatever it was that contained him. He felt uncomfortable, and this discomfort impelled him suddenly to rebel. Whatever he was in was too small for him and he wanted instinctively to be free of it. His instinct manifested itself in an increasing impatience. He flung out his arms and legs with such violence that one day the walls broke, and the waters rushed away, deserting him, leaving him helpless. At this moment, or thereabouts, for he still could not understand, since he did not know, he felt forces impelling him headfirst down an impassably narrow passage. He could never have made any progress except that he was wet and slimy. Inch by inch, contortions of some sort compelled him onward, downward, in darkness. Not that he knew anything about darkness, since he could know nothing. But he felt himself impelled by forces, pushing him onward. Or was he merely being rejected because he had grown too big? Impossible to know!
    He continued his journey, forcing himself through the narrow passage, forcing its walls to widen. A new sort of fluid gushed out, carrying him on his way until suddenly, with such suddenness indeed that he seemed expelled, he emerged into infinite space. He was seized, although he did not know it, but he was seized by the head, though gently, lifted up to a great height—by what, he did not know since he could not—and then found himself dangling by his feet, his head down, all this happening so quickly that he did not know how to respond. Then at that instant, he felt on the soles of his feet something sharp, a new sensation. Suddenly he knew something. He knew pain. He flung out his arms. He did not know what to do with pain. He wanted to return to where he had always been in those safe, warm waters, but he did not know how to return. Yet he did not want to go on. He felt stifled, he felt helpless, he felt utterly alone, but he did not know what to do.
    While he hesitated, fearful without knowing what fear was and only conscious by instinct that he was in danger without knowing what danger was, he felt again the sharp dart of pain on his feet. Something grasped him by the ankles, someone shocked him, he did not know what, he did not know who, but he now knew pain. Suddenly instinct came to his rescue. He could not return, neither could he stay as he was. Therefore he must go on. He must escape pain by going on. He did not know how, but he knew he must go on. He willed to go on, and with this will instinct led him on. He opened his mouth and made a noise, a cry of protest against pain, but this protest was positive. He felt his lungs suddenly clear of liquid he no longer needed and he drew in air. He did not know it was air, but he felt it take the place of water and it was not static. Something inside instinctively impelled and expelled it, and while this went on suddenly he was crying. He did not know he was crying, but he heard his own voice for the first time, though he did not know it was his voice or what a voice was, but by instinct he liked crying and hearing.
    And now he was righted, his head lifted, and he was cradled in something