Willy shifted. "I can draw her smaller," he said. "But that would make
it even worse, of course."
I nodded. "Of course." Because it seemed practical to say it, I said it:
"But wouldn't that be a distortion too?"
"Of course not," Red said, and I had the fleeting impression of being
faced by a school teacher in the minute end of a telescope. "Minimized
elements are true elements, merely condensed. Maximized elements are
bloated, therefore distorted." She sniffed. "Any figment knows that."
I tossed it around in my floundering mind, but it still came out the way
it sounded. There was another silence. I could see that the two of them
were losing faith in my godmaternal fairyhood. So just to keep the
conversation jogging, I tried another tack. To Willy I said:
"If Red's a figment of your imagination, why didn't you imagine her a
more practical size in the first place?"
* * * * *
Willy chewed on it for a couple minutes. Red turned away in disgust to
leap from my kneecap to Willy's. She seated herself primly and began
fussing with her infinitesimal nails. Willy said, "After all, she does
have a mind of her own, Jim. She wanted to be imagined the size she is,
so--" He looked at me and shrugged.
"Why," demanded the little woman, "should I go up to him? Why can't he
come down to me?"