_The world would beat a path to
Elmer's door--but he had to go
carry the door along with him!_
It was the darnedest traffic jam I'd ever seen in White Plains. For two
blocks ahead of me, Main Street was gutter to gutter with stalled cars,
trucks and buses.
If I hadn't been in such a hurry to get back to the shop, I might have
paid more attention. I might have noticed nobody was leaning on his
horn. Or that at least a quarter of the drivers were out peering under
their hoods.
But at the time it didn't register. I gave the tie-up a passing glance
and was turning up the side street toward Biltom Electronics--Bill-Tom,
get it?--when I saw Marge threading her way to the curb. She was leading
a small blonde girl of about eight, who clutched a child-size hatbox in
her hand. Marge was hot and exasperated, but small fry was as cool and
composed as a vanilla cone.
I waited. Even flushed and disheveled, Marge is a treat to look at. She
is tall and slender, with brown eyes that match her hair, a smile that
first crinkles around her eyes, then sneaks down and becomes a
full-fledged grin--
But I'm getting off the subject.
"Honestly, Bill!" Marge said as she saw me. "The traffic nowadays! We've
been tied up for fifteen minutes. I finally decided to get off the bus
and walk, even though it is about a hundred in the shade."
"Come along to the shop," I suggested. "The reception room is
air-conditioned and you can watch the world's first baseball game
telecast in color. The Giants versus the Dodgers, Carl Erskine
pitching."
Marge brightened. "That'll be more fun than shopping, won't it, Doreen?"
she asked, looking down at the kid. "Bill, this is Doreen. She lives
across the street from me. Her mother's at the dentist and I said I'd
look after her for the day."
"Hello, Doreen," I said. "What have you in the hatbox? Doll clothes?"
Doreen gave me a look of faint disgust. "No," she piped, in a high
treble. "An unhappy genii."
"An unhappy--" I did a double take. "Oh, an unhappy genii? Maybe he's
unhappy because you won't let him out, ha ha." Even to myself, I sounded
idiotic.
Doreen looked at me pityingly. "It's not a he, it's a thing. Elmer made
it."