On those slopes, he developed superior strength in his limbs. At the end of a day's harvest, most grown men were ready to straighten their backs in front of a jug of ale in the inn that sat at one corner of Durnstein, directly opposite the monastery. Julian, on the other hand, could have started on another vineyard. And so you can imagine he became very popular. Especially with the other children. He had a keen eye and fast reflexes. He could pluck two mosquitoes out of the air, long before they were aware of death lurking in his lightning grasp. His behaviour could be mystifying. He might sit motionless for long periods, surrounded by expectant friends willing him to entertain them, then burst into life, scale a tree in seconds and steal some pigeon eggs before the mother bird had time to blink. He might also catch the hapless pigeon too if it were slow to flutter off and if the mood took him.
'Do the eyes, Julian,' said Toma, his best friend. 'Please do the eyes.' Julian always obliged, sending everyone into fits of laughter. For as he got older, the big eyes began to bulge more, making his ability to move one eye at a time, independent of the other, a trick worth seeing. All the children would cheer when he sat bobbing his head up and down, waiting patiently with a smear of honey on his nose for a fly to settle. Then his tongue would dart out and catch it. Sometimes he spat it out. Great applause would erupt, however, if he let it buzz a while in his mouth before swallowing it.
His friends may have laughed, but Holger, his father, found it disturbing.
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