The rush to the bus stop, then, was a bit of a panicked run as the kids ran ahead; Phillip was walking briskly to keep up, not needing to run at full tilt to keep up anyway. Their bags flopped with each bounding stride, and their coats trailed behind them, half-zippered. Phillip’s long jacket flourished behind him as well, the slight breeze offering no resistance to him. Both of the children were out of breath as they approached the bus shelter, and Phillip felt a stitch forming in his side as well. They were alone at the stop; few people used this stop on the weekends, compared to a school day.
The bus came a few minutes later, and the children, recovered and once again of good cheer, entered first. The bus itself was crowded, but there was a short bench near the middle; Gene took the window seat, while Jeanne took the outside. Phillip couldn’t sit in the narrow space between them, so he stood beside Jeanne, gripping the overhead bar with his right hand and taking Jeanne’s hand in his left. Jeanne patted Gene in the stomach a couple of times before he took her other hand.
Phillip was aware of the children’s agoraphobia. It was a common trait, Katherine had said, among the children the Foundation considered most gifted and most suitable for its advanced projects. However, it was precisely because of this crippling fear of excessive crowding that it was unlikely that the traits the Foundation was searching for could be found in individuals above a certain age. The way Katherine explained it, those who could overcome their phobia did so at the expense of their compatibility; those who did not simply became shut-ins or– at the extremes– suicide statistics. The reason for the fear, as well as the reason why multiple suitable individuals traveling together fared better, was a complete mystery to Phillip; he doubted that even Katherine knew.
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