Part 50 (1/2)
”Why, friends. You and me are pals. Me and your pop are pals.”
”Where's pop?”
”He's gone away.”
”I remember.”
”He thought he needed a change of air. Don't you ever need a change of air?”
”I don't know.”
”Well, you do. Take it from me. This is about the punkest joint I ever was in. You don't want to stay in a dairy-kitchen like this.”
”What's dairy-kitchen?”
”This is. All these white tiles and fixings. It makes me feel like a pint of milk to look at 'em.”
”It's because of the germs.”
”Ain't I telling you the germs don't want to hurt you?”
”Aunt Lora told Mamie they do.”
”Say, cull, you tell your Aunt Lora to make a noise like an ice-cream in the sun and melt away. She's a prune, and what she says don't go. Do you want to know what a germ or a microbe--it's the same thing--really is? It's a fellow that has the best time you can think of. They've been fooling you, kid. They saw you were easy, so they handed it to you on a plate. I'm the guy that can put you wise about microbes.”
”Tell me.”
”Sure. Well, a microbe is a kid that just runs wild out in the country.
He don't have to hang around in a white-tiled nursery and eat sterilized junk and go to bed when they tell him to. He has a swell time out in the woods, fis.h.i.+ng and playing around in the dirt and going after birds' eggs and picking berries, and--oh, shucks, anything else you can think of. Wouldn't you like to do that?”
William Bannister nodded.
”Well, say, as it happens, there's a fine chance for you to be a germ right away. I know a little place down in the Connecticut woods which would just hit you right. You could put on overalls----”
”What's overalls?”
”Sort of clothes. Not like the fussed-up scenery you have to wear now, but the real sort of clothes which you can muss up and n.o.body cares a darn. You can put 'em on and go out and tear up Jack like a regular kid all you want. Say, don't you remember the fool stunts you and me used to pull off in the studio?”
”What studio?”
”Gee! you're a bit shy on your English, ain't you? It makes it sort of hard for a guy to keep up what you might call a flow of talk. Still, you should worry. Why, don't you remember where you used to live before you came to this joint? Big, dusty sort of place, where you and me used to play around on the floor?”
The White Hope nodded.
”Well, wouldn't you like to do that again?”
”Yes.”
”And be a regular microbe?”