Part 23 (1/2)

A woman's voice said, ”h.e.l.lo?”

”If this is a recording,” announced Walter Gripp, ”I'll come over and blow the place up.”

”This isn't a record,” said the woman's voice. ”h.e.l.lo! Oh, h.e.l.lo, there is is someone alive! Where someone alive! Where are are you?” She gave a delighted scream. you?” She gave a delighted scream.

Walter almost collapsed. ”_You!_' He stood up jerkily, eyes wild. ”Good lord, what luck, what's your name?”

”Genevieve Selsor!” She wept into the receiver. ”Oh, I'm so glad to hear from you, whoever you are!”

”Walter Gripp!”

”Walter, h.e.l.lo, Walter!”

”h.e.l.lo, Genevieve!”

”Walter. It's such a nice name. Walter, Walter!”

”Thank you.”

”Walter, where are are you?” you?”

Her voice was so kind and sweet and fine. He held the phone tight to his ear so she could whisper sweetly into it. He felt his feet drift off the floor. His cheeks burned.

”I'm in Marlin Village,” he said. ”I-”

Buzz.

”h.e.l.lo?” he said.

Buzz.

He jiggled the hook. Nothing.

Somewhere a wind had blown down a pole. As quickly as she had come, Genevieve Selsor was gone.

He dialed, but the line was dead.

”I know where she is, anyway.” He ran out of the house. The sun was rising as he backed a bettle-car from the stranger's garage, filled its backseat with food from the house, and set out at eighty miles an hour down the highway, heading for New Texas City. A thousand miles, he thought. Genevieve Selsor, sit tight, you'll hear from me!

He honked his horn on every turn out of town.

At sunset, after an impossible day of driving, he pulled to the roadside, kicked off his tight shoes, laid himself out in the seat, and slid the gray Homburg over his weary eyes. His breathing became slow and regular. The wind blew and the stars shone gently upon him in the new dusk. The Martian mountains lay all around, millions of years old. Starlight glittered on the spires of a little Martian town, no bigger than a game of chess, in the blue hills.

He lay in the half-place between awakeness and dreams. He whispered. Genevieve. Oh, Genevieve, sweet Genevieve Oh, Genevieve, sweet Genevieve, he sang softly, the years may come, the years may go. But Genevieve, sweet Genevieve the years may come, the years may go. But Genevieve, sweet Genevieve .... There was a warmth in him. He heard her quiet sweet cool voice singing. .... There was a warmth in him. He heard her quiet sweet cool voice singing. h.e.l.lo, oh, h.e.l.lo, Walter! This is no record. Where are you, Walter, where are you? h.e.l.lo, oh, h.e.l.lo, Walter! This is no record. Where are you, Walter, where are you?

He sighed, putting up a hand to touch her in the moonlight. Long dark hair shaking in the wind; beautiful, it was. And her lips like red peppermints. And her cheeks like fresh-cut wet roses. And her body like a clear vaporous mist, while her soft cool sweet voice crooned to him once more the words to the old sad song, Oh, Genevieve, sweet Genevieve, the years may come, the years may go Oh, Genevieve, sweet Genevieve, the years may come, the years may go ... ...

He slept.

He reached New Texas City at midnight.

He halted before the Deluxe Beauty Salon, yelling.

He expected her to rush out, all perfume, all laughter.

Nothing happened.

”She's asleep.” He walked to the door. ”Here I am!” he called. ”h.e.l.lo, Genevieve!”

The town lay in double moonlit silence. Somewhere a wind flapped a canvas awning.

He swung the gla.s.s door wide and stepped in.

”Hey!” He laughed uneasily. ”Don't hide! I know you're here!”

He searched every booth.

He found a tiny handkerchief on the floor. It smelled so good he almost lost his balance. ”Genevieve,” he said.

He drove the car through the empty streets but saw nothing. ”If this is a practical joke ... ”

He slowed the car. ”Wait a minute. We were cut off. Maybe she she drove to Marlin Village while I was driving here! She probably took the old Sea Road. We missed each other during the day. How'd she know I'd come get her? I didn't drove to Marlin Village while I was driving here! She probably took the old Sea Road. We missed each other during the day. How'd she know I'd come get her? I didn't say say I would. And she was so afraid when the phone died that she rushed to Marlin Village to find me! And here I am, by G.o.d, what a fool I would. And she was so afraid when the phone died that she rushed to Marlin Village to find me! And here I am, by G.o.d, what a fool I I am!” am!”

Giving the horn a blow, he shot out of town.

He drove all night. He thought, What if she isn't in Marlin Village waiting, when I arrive?

He wouldn't think of that. She must must be there. And he would run up and hold her and perhaps even kiss her, once, on the lips. be there. And he would run up and hold her and perhaps even kiss her, once, on the lips.

Genevieve, sweet Genevieve, he whistled, stepping it up to one hundred miles an hour.

Marlin Village was quiet at dawn. Yellow lights were still burning in several stores, and a juke box that had played steadily for one hundred hours finally, with a crackle of electricity, ceased, making the silence complete. The sun warmed the streets and warmed the cold and vacant sky.

Walter turned down Main Street, the car lights still on, honking the horn a double toot, six times at one corner, six times at another. He peered at the store names. His face was white and tired, and his hands slid on the sweaty steering wheel.

”Genevieve!” he called in the empty street.

The door to a beauty salon opened.

”Genevieve!” He stopped the car.

Genevieve Selsor stood in the open door of the salon as he ran across the street. A box of cream chocolates lay open in her arms. Her fingers, cuddling it, were plump and pallid. Her face, as he stepped into the light, was round and thick, and her eyes were like two immense eggs stuck into a white mess of bread dough. Her legs were as big around as the stumps of trees, and she moved with an ungainly shuffle. Her hair was an indiscriminate shade of brown that had been made and remade, it appeared, as a nest for birds. She had no lips at all and compensated this by stenciling on a large red, greasy mouth that now popped open in delight, now shut in sudden alarm. She had plucked her brows to thin antenna lines.

Walter stopped. His smile dissolved. He stood looking at her.

She dropped her candy box to the sidewalk.

”Are you-Genevieve Selsor?” His ears rang.

”Are you Walter Griff?” she asked.