Education, my friend, is not always a blessing. Like a gun, it depends on who has it.
-Arkady Strugatsky and Boris Strugatsky, Prisoners of Power (1969), translated by Helen Saltz Jacobson (1977)1987At first Henry Spencer thought it was one of his son’s self-invented, non-educational, time-wasting games. Shawn was sitting cross-legged on the couch, blindfolded by one of his mother’s scarves and not moving a muscle. Maybe that was what caught Henry’s attention at last, because nothing happened and Shawn never just
sat somewhere quietly. "Son, what are you doing?"
Shawn didn’t wince when he spoke up. Henry didn’t expect him to – his steps had been loud enough for him to be aware of father’s presence. "Nothin’."
"Yeah well, I can see that. Mind telling me what’s the big deal?"
"Nothin’," Shawn repeated stubbornly, although his legs started twitching and his fingers drummed a pattern on his left knee, giveaways for his impatience and energy that usually prevented him from sitting still.
Henry sat down next to Shawn. "Put down that scarf and look at me."
"No."
"Excuse me?"
"I’m not taking it off."
( Well, that was irritating. )Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 357