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As part of his “training” as a child, which had never really been adventurous trips but more his uncle preparing him for the world that they lived in, Alex had been raised to read and research. Which was good for school, admittedly — he knew how to do all of that stuff already, and if he’d actually had the time to study and wasn’t constantly being pulled out of class for missions, he would’ve got a much higher grade in history. He might have even had the chance to get into the higher GCSE class earlier, and work towards a higher grade than the “B” he got. (Not that a B wasn’t good, but he could’ve got higher.)
But Alex’s most significant memory of research, if he was recalling right, was the time they went to Australia.
“I have to read this whole book?”
He was nine years old. His uncle had handed him a book the size of his head. He wasn’t even reading anything more advanced than what they dubbed as “middle grade” at school, but his uncle was making him read something that was clearly made for university students. Adults. Proper grown ups who studied grown up things.
“It’s important to learn the culture of a place before you visit it,” Uncle Ian responded, reminding Alex of something he’d said over and over, every time they went on holiday.
Alex’s brows furrowed. The deep frown made him look older than just nine. “But this is a lot, Ian.” He opened the thick book to a random page, his eyes assaulted with black and white pictures and blocks of text. “I don’t even understand some of these words. The pictures aren’t even in colour.”
In his complaining, Alex didn’t even notice the way Ian’s lips quirked up into a small smile, and then the smile disappeared about as fast as it appeared.
“Welcome to the world of true reading, Alex.” Ian headed towards Alex’s bedroom door, leaning against the door frame for a moment. “We leave for Australia in a week. No school means plenty of reading time.”
As soon as his uncle had left, shutting the door, Alex stared incredulously at the book in his hands. How was he meant to get through that whole thing in a week?
And yet, even as he read it, he found himself getting sucked in. Sure, he skipped a few pages — he even skipped a few chapters, if he was recalling right — but some of the stuff was so interesting that he didn’t want to put the book down, even when Ian said it was time for him to go to bed.
The history of the country was… dark? Dirty? Difficult to swallow, honestly. At least, it probably would have been for an older person who actually had any sort of attachment to the country. Alex was just a child, a literal sponge, and he took in all of the information like he had been told to. And perhaps he should have tried to understand what he was reading — after all, maybe the information would be useful one day. But it wasn’t as if he had that forethought when he wasn’t even ten years old.
But Ian probably hadn’t realised the true weight of what he’d tasked Alex until they were on the plane. Alex still had the book, was still reading it and absorbing the information. He was even reading it on the plane before takeoff, the flight attendant telling Ian to make sure Alex’s seatbelt was on and the book away as they taxied down the runway. And as soon as the book was away, whilst they were heading for the runway, Alex turned to his uncle with curious eyes.
“Ian.”
“Yes?”
“It’s not right to take children from their parents, is it?”
“…Right…” Ian knew where this was going, he just wanted to see whether Alex would get there. “If they’re being taken care of, then no. It isn’t right to take children from their parents.”
“It’s like… kidnapping?”
“Exactly.”
“So then… why did they do that to the Aboriginal kids?”
Bingo.
The plane started speeding down the runway.
Ian didn’t know exactly how to explain that whilst they were taking off, so he took Alex’s hand and squeezed it a little.
“Let the plane get in the air, then we’ll talk.”
Alex, by this point, was stuck back in his seat, head firmly pressed back as he gripped Ian’s hand. “Okay.”
And even as they took off, rising higher and higher into the air, Ian gradually began to realise that there was a lot more that Alex had to learn about this topic.
Hands in his pockets, Alex stood outside the Australian Museum, thinking about how he and Ian had talked about it. How Ian had explained patiently the history of Australia. How they’d discussed the consequences of the actions of the British. How Alex had asked to go and see the homes of the Aboriginal people, see the land they’d grown on, but Ian hadn’t agreed to it because they already had their plans for why they were there.
The first thing Tom had recommended when Alex had landed was to go to the museum and see the exhibits on the First Nations peoples. The first thing Alex had done when he had enough energy to go out and explore was find the museum to go and learn about the First Nations peoples.
He could still hear his uncle Ian’s voice as he stared at the museum doors, telling him to learn as much about a country that he was visiting as possible, to keep himself educated on the culture and the politics of a place.
He walked through the main doors.