Part 25 (2/2)

Margery stamped her foot and burst into tears. ”I know how you feel about poor Winnie,” she sobbed, ”but it's just that I'm sorry for him.

Couldn't you at least be polite? Couldn't you at least have given him a couple of lousy hundred thousand dollars.?”

”Watch the baby,” I warned her. At the head of the stairs Gwennie appeared, attracted by the noise, rubbing her eyes with her fists and beginning to cry.

Margery glared at me, started to speak, was speechless, turned her back and hurried up to comfort Gwennie.

I began to feel the least little bit ashamed of myself.

I stood up, patting the baby absentmindedly on the head, looking up the stairs at the female half of our household. I had been, when you stopped to think of it, something of a clunk.

Item: I had been rough on poor old Winnie. Suppose it had been I who discovered the hormone and needed a few lousy hundred thousand, as Margery put it so well, as a stake in order to grasp undreamed-of wealth and power? Well, why not? Why shouldn't I have given it to him? The poor fellow was evidently suffering the effect of the hormone wearing off as much as from any hangover. I could have been more kind, yes.

And, item: Margery did have a tough time with the kids and all, and on this day of all days she was likely to be excited.

And, item: I had just inherited a b.l.o.o.d.y mint!”

Why wasn't Ia”the thought came to me with a sudden, appalling claritya”using some of Uncle Otto's money to make life easier for all of us?

I galloped up the steps two at a time. ”Margery,” I cried. ”Margery, I'm sorry!”

”I think you shoulda”” she began and then looked up from Gwennie and saw my face.

I said: Look, honey. Let's start over. I'm sorry about poor Winnie, but forget him, huh? We're rich.

Let's start living as though we were rich! Let's go out, just the two of usa”it's early yet! We'll grab a cab and go into New Yorka”all the way by cab, why not? We'll eat at the Colony, and see My Fair Lady from the fifth row on the aislea”you can get quite good seats, they tell me, for a hundred bucks or so.

Why not?”

Margery looked up at me, and suddenly smiled. ”Buta”” she patted Gwennie's head. ”The kids. What about them?”

”Get a baby-sitter,” I cried. ”Mrs. Schroop'll be glad of the word.”

”But it's such short noticea””

”Margery,” I said, ”we don't inherit a fortune every night. Call her up.”

Margery stood up, holding Gwennie, beginning to smile. ”Why,” she said, ”that sounds like fun, Harlan!

Why not, as you say? Onlya”do you remember Mrs. Schroop's number?”

”It's written down,” I told her.

”No, that was on the old directory.” She frowned. ”You've told it to me a thousand times. It isn't listed in her own namea”it's her son-in-law's. Oh, what is that number...?”

A thin voice from down the stairs said:”Ovington 8-0014. It's listed under Sturgis, Arthur R., 41 Universe Avenue.

Margery look at me, and I looked at Margery.

I said sharply: ”Who the devil said that?”

”I did, Daddy,” said the owner of the voice, all of eighteen inches tall, appearing at the foot of the steps.

He had to use one hand to steady himself, because he didn't walk so very well; in the other hand he held the squat gla.s.s bottle that Winnie McGhee had dropped.

The bottle was empty.

Well, we don't live in Levittown anymorea”of course.

Marjorie and Gwennie and I have tried everythinga”changing our names, dyeing our hair, even plastic surgery once. It didn't work, so we had the same surgeon change us back.

People keep recognizing us.

What we mostly do now is cruise up and down the coast of the U.S. in our yacht, inside the twelve-mile limit. When we need supplies we send some of the crew in with the motor launch. That's risky, yes. But it isn't as risky as landing in any other country would be; and we just don't want to go back to J.I.a”as they've taken to calling it these days. You can't blame us. How would you like it?

I wish he'd leave us alone.

The way it goes, we just cruise up and down, and every once in a while he remembers us and calls up on s.h.i.+p-to-sh.o.r.e. He called yesterday, matter of fact. He said: ”You can't stay out there forever, Daddy.

Your main engines are due for a refit after eleven months, seven days of running and you've been gone ten months, six. What are you using for dairy products? The load you s.h.i.+pped in Jacksonville must have run out last Thursday week. There isn't any point in your starving yourself.

Besides, it's not fair to Gwennie and Mom. Come home. We'll make a place for you in the government.”

”Thanks,” I said, ”But no thanks.”

”You'll be sorry,” he warned, pleasantly enough. And he hung up.

Well, we should have kept him out of those pills.

I guess it was my fault. I should have listened and when old Winniea”heaven rest his soul, wherever he isa”said that the lifetime dose was three tablets for every twenty pounds of body weight. The baby only weighed thirty-one pounds thena”last time we'd taken him to the pediatrician; naturally, we couldn't take him again after he swallowed the pills. And he must've swallowed at least a dozen.

But I guess Winnie was right. At the very least, the world is well on its way to being conquered now.

The United States fell to Juvens Imperator, as he calls himself ( and I blame Margery for thata”I never used Latin in from of the kid) in eighteen months, after his sensational coup on the $256,000 Question, and his later success in cornering soybean futures and the common stock of United States Steel. The rest of the world is just a matter of time. And not very much time, as that.

And don't they just know it, though; that's why we daren't land abroad.

But who would have thought it?

I mean, I watched his inauguration last October, on the television. The country has had some pretty peculiar people running it, no doubt. But did you ever think you'd live to see the oath of office administered to my little boy, with one hand upraised and the thumb of the other in his mouth?

HUs.h.!.+.

by Zenna Henderson.

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