Read Online Half Brother by Kenneth Oppel - Free Book Online Page A

want someone who was good with animals, wouldn’t you? If you wanted to teach the chimp.”
    I came downstairs and went to the kitchen to get a drink. As I passed the living room I caught Peter’s eye. He looked defeated, slouched in his chair. In the kitchen I opened the fridge and took out the bottle of Coke, listening.
    “I don’t know if you’re ready for this, Peter,” I heard Dadsay. “Seems to me you need to be concentrating on pulling up your marks.”
    “Well, I’ll definitely be doing that,” Peter replied. “But I’d also love to be part of this project. I mean, Chomsky is just way out of line on this, you know? Humans aren’t the only animals on the planet that can have language. I know Zan could learn.”
    I paused, mid-pour, for Dad’s reaction.
    “Interesting,” Dad said. “So you’re more a proponent of B.F. Skinner?”
    “Absolutely,” said Peter. “I think his ideas about behavioural conditioning are far more persuasive.” “Right on,” I murmured to myself.
    I turned as the sliding door to the backyard opened and Mom came in, carrying Zan. During an interview, she would always take Zan outside so Dad could conduct the session in peace, and then she’d bring him in at the end.
    “How’s it going?” Mom whispered to me.
    “I like him,” I whispered back. “Dad might be coming round.”
    Mom nodded and went through to the living room. I hung back in the doorway, watching.
    “Hey, there’s the little man,” said Peter when he caught sight of Zan.
    Mom put Zan down on the carpet. A lot of the time, Zan would just scamper back to her, but not this time. He looked at Dad, then Peter—and made a happy pant-hoot and scampered straight for him. He grabbed hold of Peter’s leg and stared up at him beseechingly.
    “I think he wants a hug,” said Mom.
    Without hesitation, Peter reached down and lifted Zan onto his lap. It was the first time I’d seen Zan so eager to meet someone outside our family.
    “Hello, Zan,” said Peter, smiling.
    Zan pulled on Peter’s beard.
    “He likes you,” Mom told Peter.
    “And I like him,” said Peter, chuckling as Zan tried to pull off his Peace button. “Wow,” Peter said. “His eyes.” “What about them?” Dad asked.
    “It’s just—you look into them and there’s a real person there looking right back at you.”
    I liked Peter even more. Zan was now climbing up his chest to his shoulders, and trying to swing on his ponytail.
    “Okay, Peter, we’ll let you know by the end of the week,” said Dad. “Thanks for coming.”
    “Why bother keeping him in suspense?” said Mom. “He’s hired.”
    Dad looked at her in surprise, and I did too. They’d never told any of the other candidates right away. I could see Dad wasn’t happy, but he wasn’t going to make a scene in front of Peter. Dad hated scenes; he thought they were “inappropriate.”
    “Honest?” Peter said, his face alight, looking from Mom to Dad.
    I think he was as confused as I was.
    Mom walked towards him with her hand extended. “I’m Sarah Tomlin. I’ll be the chief researcher on the project. We’ll be in touch with your schedule next week.”
    “Hey, thanks a ton, thanks so much!” said Peter. “Okay, this is great.”
    Zan climbed off Peter and into Mom’s arms.
    Dad smiled tightly. “See you next week, then, Peter.”
    Two weeks later, Dad dropped me off at Windermere University School on his way to work. I’d been at the school once before, last week, to attend an orientation meeting for new students and their families. We’d met some of the teachers, and taken a tour. But this was the first day of school, for real, and the parking lot was crammed and there were uniformed kids everywhere. My breakfast was doing a slow swirl in my stomach.
    Windermere was a bit like a British boarding school—the kind you read about in books, anyway. It had its own campus, with three classroom blocks around a large quadrangle, and a huge playing field (rugby was a