He looked down the listings, and frowned. "All old movies. Still only
one channel. Still only from nine to eleven at night." He gave it to
her, turned away; then stopped and waited. He'd said the same thing
last week. And she had said the films were all new to her.
She said it now. "Why Harry, I've never seen this movie with Clark
Gable. Nor the comedy with Red Skeleton. Nor the other five neither."
"I'm gonna lie down," he said flatly. He turned and stepped forward,
and found himself facing the stove. Not the door to the hall; the
stove. "But the door...." he began. He cut himself short. He turned and
saw the door a few feet to the left, beside the table. He went there
and out and up the stairs (they too had moved; they too weren't right)
and into the bedroom and lay down. The bedroom was wrong. The bed was
wrong. The windows were wrong.
The world was wrong! Lord, the whole damned world was wrong!
* * * * *
Edna didn't wake him, so they had a late lunch. Then he went back to
the barn and let the four cows and four sheep and two horses into the
pastures. Then he checked to see that Edna had fed the chickens right.
They had only a dozen or so now.
When had he sold the rest? And when had he sold his other livestock?
Or had they died somehow? A rough winter? Disease?
He stood in the yard, a tall, husky man with pale brown hair and a face
that had once been long, lean and strong and was now only long and
lean. He blinked gray eyes and tried hard to remember, then turned and
went to the house. Edna was soaking dishes in the sink, according to
regulations--one sinkful of dishwater a day. And one tub of bath water
twice a week.
She was looking at him. He realized his anger and confusion must be
showing. He managed a smile. "You remember how much we got for our
livestock, Edna?"
"Same as everyone else," she said. "Government agents paid flat rates."
He remembered then, or thought he did. The headache was back. He went
upstairs and slept again, but this time he had dreams, many of them,
and all confused and all frightening. He was glad to get up. And he was
glad to hear Walt and Gloria talking to Edna downstairs.
He washed his face, combed his hair and went down. Walt and Gloria were
sitting on the sofa, Edna in the blue armchair. Walt was saying he'd
gotten the new TV picture tube he'd ordered. "Found it in the supply
bin this morning. Spent the whole day installing it according to the
book of directions."
Harry said hi and they all said hi and he sat down and they talked
about TV and gardens and livestock. Then Harry said, "How's Penny?"
"Fine," Gloria answered. "I'm starting her on the kindergarten book
next week."
"She's five already?" Harry asked.
"Almost six," Walt said. "Emergency Education Regulations state that
the child should be five years nine months old before embarking on
kindergarten book."
"And Frances?" Harry asked. "Your oldest? She must be starting
high...." He stopped, because they were all staring at him, and because
he couldn't remember Frances clearly. "Just a joke," he said, laughing
and rising. "Let's eat. I'm starved."
* * * * *
They ate in the kitchen. They talked--or rather Edna, Gloria and Walt
did. Harry nodded and said uh-huh and used his mouth for chewing.
Walt and Gloria went home at ten-fifteen. They said goodbye at the
door and Harry walked away. He heard Gloria whispering something about
Doctor Hamming.
He was sitting in the living room when Edna came in. She was crying.
"Harry, please see the doctor."