Sci Fiction Classics Volume 4 (36 page)

"I like it, if that's what you mean."

"Know what I paid for it? Ninety-nine fifty."

"What? A hundred dollars for a skinny black thing like that?"

"It is not a skinny black thing like that. It is a basic black cocktail
frock. And I paid twenty dollars for the pearls. Simulated," she
explained. "And sixty for the opera pumps. And forty for the perfume. Two
hundred and twenty dollars to give you a good time. You having a good
time?"

"Sure."

"Want to smell me?"

"I already have."

"Bartender, give me another."

"Afraid I can't serve you, ma'am."

"Why not?"

"You've had enough already."

"I have not had enough already," Linda said indignantly. "Where's your
manners?" She grabbed the whiskey bottle. "Come on, let's have a few
drinks and talk up a storm about TV stars. Happy days. I could take you up
to BBDO and show you their tapes and films. How about that?"

"You just asked me."

"You didn't answer. I could show you movies, too. You like movies? I hate
'em, but I can't knock 'em anymore. Movies saved my life when the big bang
came."

"How was that?"

"This is a secret, understand? Just between you and me. If any other
agency ever found out …" Linda looked around and then lowered her
voice. "BBDO located this big cache of silent films. Lost films, see?
Nobody knew the prints were around. Make a great TV series. So they sent
me to this abandoned mine in Jersey to take inventory."

"In a mine?"

"That's right. Happy days."

"Why were they in a mine?"

"Old prints. Nitrate. Catch fire. Also rot. Have to be stored like wine.
That's why. So took two of my assistants with me to spend weekend down
there, checking."

"You stayed in the mine a whole weekend?"

"Uh-huh. Three girls. Friday to Monday. That was the plan. Thought it
would be a fun deal. Happy days. So … where was I? Oh. So, took
lights, blankets, linen, plenty of picnic, the whole schmeer, and went to
work. I remember exact moment when blast came. Was looking for third reel
of a UFA film,
Gekronter Blumenorden an der Pegnitz.
Had reel one,
two, four, five, six. No three. Bang! Happy days."

"Jesus. Then what?"

"My girls panicked. Couldn't keep 'em down there. Never saw them again.
But I knew. I knew. Stretched that picnic forever. Then starved even
longer. Finally came up, and for what? For who? Whom?" She began to weep.
"For nobody. Nobody left. Nothing." She took Mayo's hands. "Why won't you
stay?"

"Stay? Where?"

"Here."

"I am staying."

"I mean for a long time. Why not? Haven't I got lovely home? And there's
all New York for supplies. And farm for flowers and vegetables. We could
keep cows and chickens. Go fishing. Drive cars. Go to museums. Art
galleries. Entertain …"

"You're doing all that right now. You don't need me."

"But I do. I do."

"For what?"

"For piano lessons."

After a long pause he said, "You're drunk."

"Not wounded, sire, but dead."

She laid her head on the bar, beamed up at him roguishly, and then closed
her eyes. An instant later, Mayo knew she had passed out. He compressed
his lips. Then he climbed out of the bar, computed the tab, and left
fifteen dollars under the whiskey bottle.

He took Linda's shoulder and shook her gently. She collapsed into his
arms, and her hair came tumbling down. He blew out the candle, picked
Linda up, and carried her to the Chevy. Then, with anguished
concentration, he drove through the dark to the boat pond. It took him
forty minutes.

He carried Linda into her bedroom and sat her down on the bed, which was
decorated with an elaborate arrangement of dolls. Immediately she rolled
over and curled up with a doll in her arms, crooning to it. Mayo lit a
lamp and tried to prop her upright. She went over again, giggling.

"Linda," he said, "you got to get that dress off."

"Mf."

"You can't sleep in it. It cost a hundred dollars."

"Nine'nine-fif'y."

"Now come on, honey."

"Fm."

He rolled his eyes in exasperation and then undressed her, carefully
hanging up the basic black cocktail frock, and standing the sixty-dollar
pumps in a corner. He could not manage the clasp of the pearls
(simulated), so he put her to bed still wearing them. Lying on the pale
blue sheets, nude except for the necklace, she looked like a Nordic
odalisque.

"Did you muss my dolls?" she mumbled.

"No. They're all around you."

"Tha's right. Never sleep without 'em." She reached out and petted them
lovingly. "Happy days. Long nights."

"Women!" Mayo snorted. He extinguished the lamp and tramped out, slamming
the door behind him.

Next morning Mayo was again awakened by the clatter of dispossessed ducks.
The red balloon was sailing on the surface of the pond, bright in the warm
June sunshine. Mayo wished it was a model boat instead of the kind of girl
who got drunk in bars. He stalked out and jumped into the water as far
from Linda as possible. He was sluicing his chest when something seized
his ankle and nipped him. He let out a yell and was confronted by Linda's
beaming face bursting out of the water before him.

"Good morning," she laughed.

"Very funny," he muttered.

"You look mad this morning."

He grunted.

"And I don't blame you. I did an awful thing last night. I didn't give you
any dinner, and I want to apologize."

"I wasn't thinking about dinner," he said with baleful dignity.

"No? Then what on earth are you mad about?"

"I can't stand women who get drunk."

"Who was drunk?"

"You."

"I was not," she said indignantly.

"No? Who had to be undressed and put to bed like a kid?"

"Who was too dumb to take off my pearls?" she countered. "They broke and I
slept on pebbles all night. I'm covered with black and blue marks. Look.
Here and here and—"

"Linda," he interrupted sternly, "I'm just a plain guy from New Haven. I
got no use for spoiled girls who run up charge accounts and all the time
decorate theirselves and hang around society-type saloons getting loaded."

"If you don't like my company, why do you stay?"

"I'm going," he said. He climbed out and began drying himself. "I'm
starting south this morning."

"Enjoy your hike."

"I'm driving."

"What? A kiddie-car?"

"The Chevy."

"Jim, you're not serious?" She climbed out of the pond, looking alarmed.
"You really don't know how to drive yet."

"No? Didn't I drive you home falling-down drunk last night?"

"You'll get into awful trouble."

"Nothing I can't get out of. Anyway, I can't hang around here forever.
You're a party girl; you just want to play. I got serious things on my
mind. I got to go south and find guys who know about TV."

"Jim, you've got me wrong. I'm not like that at all. Why, look at the way
I fixed up my house. Could I have done that if I'd been going to parties
all the time?"

"You done a nice job," he admitted.

"Please don't leave today. You're not ready yet."

"Aw, you just want me to hang around and teach you music."

"Who said that?"

"You did. Last night."

She frowned, pulled off her cap, then picked up her towel and began drying
herself. At last she said, "Jim, I'll be honest with you. Sure, I want you
to stay a while. I won't deny it. But I wouldn't want you around
permanently. After all, what have we got in common?"

"You're so damn uptown," he growled.

"No, no, it's nothing like that. It's simply that you're a guy and I'm a
girl, and we've got nothing to offer each other. We're different. We've
got different tastes and interests. Fact?"

"Absolutely."

"But you're not ready to leave yet. So I tell you what; we'll spend the
whole morning practicing driving, and then we'll have some fun. What would
you like to do? Go window-shopping? Buy more clothes? Visit the Modern
Museum? Have a picnic?"

His face brightened. "Gee, you know something? I was never to a picnic in
my whole life. Once I was bartender at a clambake, but that's not the same
thing; not like when you're a kid."

She was delighted. "Then we'll have a real kid-type picnic."

And she brought her dolls. She carried them in her arms while Mayo toted
the picnic basket to the Alice in Wonderland monument. The statue
perplexed Mayo, who had never heard of Lewis Carroll. While Linda seated
her pets and unpacked the picnic, she gave Mayo a summary of the story and
described how the bronze heads of Alice, the Mad Hatter, and the March
Hare had been polished bright by the swarms of kids playing King of the
Mountain.

"Funny, I never heard of that story," he said.

"I don't think you had much of a childhood, Jim."

"Why would you say a—" He stopped, cocked his head, and listened
intently.

"What's the matter?" Linda asked.

"You hear that bluejay?"

"No."

"Listen. He's making a funny sound; like steel."

"Steel?"

"Yeah. Like … like swords in a duel."

"You're kidding."

"No. Honest."

"But birds sing; they don't make noises."

"Not always. Bluejays imitate noises a lot. Starlings, too. And parrots.
Now why would he be imitating a sword fight? Where'd he hear it?"

"You're a real country boy, aren't you, Jim? Bees and bluejays and
starlings and all that …"

"I guess so. I was going to ask; why would you say a thing like that, me
not having any childhood?"

"Oh, things like not knowing
Alice,
and never going on a picnic,
and always wanting a model yacht." Linda opened a dark bottle. "Like to
try some wine?"

"You better go easy," he warned.

"Now stop it, Jim. I'm not a drunk."

"Did you or didn't you get smashed last night?"

She capitulated. "All right, I did; but only because it was my first drink
in years."

He was pleased by her surrender. "Sure. Sure. That figures."

"So? Join me?"

"What the hell, why not?" He grinned. "Let's live a little. Say, this is
one swingin' picnic, and I like the plates, too. Where'd you get them?"

"Abercrombie & Fitch," Linda said, deadpan. "Stainless Steel Service
for Four, thirty-nine fifty. Skoal."

Mayo burst out laughing. "I sure goofed, didn't I, kicking up all that
fuss? Here's looking at you."

"Here's looking right back."

They drank and continued eating in warm silence, smiling companionably at
each other. Linda removed her madras silk shirt in order to tan in the
blazing afternoon sun, and Mayo politely hung it up on a branch. Suddenly
Linda asked, "Why didn't you have a childhood, Jim?"

"Gee, I don't know." He thought it over. "I guess because my mother died
when I was a kid. And something else, too; I had to work a lot."

"Why?"

"My father was a schoolteacher. You know how they get paid."

"Oh, so that's why you're anti-egghead."

"I am?"

"Of course. No offense."

"Maybe I am," he conceded. "It sure was a letdown for my old man, me
playing fullback in high school and him wanting like an Einstein in the
house."

"Was football fun?"

"Not like playing games. Football's a business. Hey, remember when we were
kids how we used to choose up sides?
Ibbety, bibbety, zibbety, zab?
"

"We used to say,
Eenie, meenie, miney, mo.
"

"Remember:
April Fool, go to school, tell your teacher you're a fool?
"

"
I love coffee, I love tea, I love the boys, and the boys love me.
"

"I bet they did at that," Mayo said solemnly.

"Not me."

"Why not?"

"I was always too big."

He was astonished. "But you're not big," he assured her. "You're just the
right size. Perfect. And really built, I noticed when we moved the piano
in. You got muscle, for a girl. A specially in the legs, and that's where
it counts."

She blushed. "Stop it, Jim."

"No. Honest."

"More wine?"

"Thanks. You have some, too."

"All right."

A crack of thunder split the sky with its sonic boom and was followed by
the roar of collapsing masonry.

"There goes another skyscraper," Linda said. "What were we talking about?"

"Games," Mayo said promptly. "Excuse me for talking with my mouth full."

"Oh, yes. Jim, did you play
Drop the Handkerchief
up in New Haven?"
Linda sang. "
A tisket, a tasket, a green and yellow basket. I sent a
letter to my love, and on the way I dropped it …
"

"Gee," he said, much impressed. "You sing real good."

"Oh, go on!"

"Yes, you do. You got a swell voice. Now don't argue with me. Keep quiet a
minute. I got to figure something out." He thought intently for a long
time, finishing his wine and absently accepting another glass. Finally he
delivered himself of a decision. "You got to learn music."

"You know I'm dying to, Jim."

"So I'm going to stay awhile and teach you; as much as I know. Now hold
it! Hold it!" he added hastily, cutting off her excitement. "I'm not going
to stay in your house. I want a place of my own."

"Of course, Jim. Anything you say."

"And I'm still headed south."

"I'll teach you to drive, Jim. I'll keep my word."

"And no strings, Linda."

"Of course not. What kind of strings?"

"You know. Like the last minute you all of a sudden got a Looey Cans couch
you want me to move in."

"
Louis Quinze!
" Linda's jaw dropped. "Wherever did you learn that?"

"Not in the army, that's for sure."

They laughed, clinked glasses, and finished their wine. Suddenly Mayo
leaped up, pulled Linda's hair, and ran to the Wonderland Monument. In an
instant he had climbed to the top of Alice's head.