_October 13-18, 1977_
_Dollars Dome--Thursday, October 13, 3:30_ P.M.
“It bothered Chris too,” she said.
“I’ll bet. And you can’t see why?” He watched her face with every bit
of intelligence and knowledge at his command. He found nothing there
but serenity--and some tenderness and amusement.
“Phil, what on Earth--well, all right, what in Space--could _happen_?
Am I supposed to be afraid of the dark?”
“Everything spooky spooks worse in the dark,” he said. “And kid, this
bit with you and the Shack has got spooky.”
“Well, I don’t know what I can say to that.” She stood up, smiling, but
a little impatient now.
“Lee--suppose I say you _can’t_ go?”
She did not seem to understand.
“Suppose I _forbid_ you to?”
“Phil!”
It was complete in itself. The one word said it all. _By whose
authority? With what right? For what reason? Darling--you’re fooling,
aren’t you?_
“Suppose I said _Chris_ forbade it?”
“You mean you want to know what I’d do if I were actually made to
believe I _couldn’t_ go?”
He nodded. She thought a moment.
“I’d try anyhow. Then if I _couldn’t_--I mean, _really_ couldn’t--” She
grinned. “--I wouldn’t.”
_What does she want me to do? Throw my arms around her and hold her
here?_ Maybe she did: it was a nice thought, anyhow.
Her smile changed, and he remembered, sharply, too vividly, that one
kiss the day she told him about--
The baby. _Johnny’s_ baby.
“Phil, I suppose this is the time to say it. You are the kindest, most
decent, most _loving_ human being I’ve ever known. Sometimes I wish it
was you who needed me.”
That was all. And it was enough. Of course that was the difference, and
he had, really, always understood, just as well as he did now.
But it mattered that she had told him. It mattered a great deal.
“Thank you, Lisa. I _do_ love you very much.” The words tasted good.
Fresh. _Pure._ He was glad he had said them. “I--almost wish I needed
you too.” _But I’d rather love you._
When she was gone, he sat and studied that one out. He didn’t get very
far. It was easy to analyze--simple masochistic crap. And/or false
superiority: _Better to love and not have than to be needful and get?_
Feed that to the pigs--or the bugs. It wasn’t for Kutler. Except it
was. So?
_So nothing. So live with it. Someday you go back to Earth and get
analyzed, lad. Till then, don’t try to understand. Relax and enjoy it._
Which was the damnedest part. He _did_ enjoy it.
He got that settled in his mind; then he tried conscientiously to worry
about Lee. She had gone to the Shack again, of course. She was out
there now, dreaming whatever she dreamed when she stared at the wild
growth there. It was _dangerous_--
He laughed. What in hell could be dangerous about it?
_Spooky things ... scared of the dark_.... And of course: _scared of
bugs_. Just that simple.
He stopped trying to worry.
_But what made her think he and Doug Laughlin were so much alike?_
He was curious; he dug Laughlin’s pre-trip psych profile out of the
files.
She wasn’t so wrong.
_Rockland--Friday, October 14, 5_ A.M. (_E.D.S.T._)
He wouldn’t be able to do it until all the darts stuck. He knew he
wouldn’t. But he knew when the darts stuck, he could. Easy. No sweat.
He knew just how, but....
_Won’ work till they stick, gotta all stick_....
He kept throwing. Took a lot of drinks to make one stick. Got to do it
soon, run out of drinks otherwise.
Damn bottle was empty. More in cellar, but cellar Hell of a ways,
besides he didn’t want. _Lousy stuff. Gets you nowhere._
He laughed.
_Man, I wen’ nowhe’.... This boy did that job.... Yessir, Johnny Wendt
went, went nowheah atall...._
Stupid business, two darts won’t stick. _All the other ones stick,
what’s matter with two?_
Maybe no-good darts?
He picked them up again and took them to the wall. Stuck one on, then
the other. _See? Stick fine. See?_
He almost cheated, but it was no good, it wouldn’t _work_ unless he
_threw_ them all and _made_ ’em stick.
He took the two off again and went back to the couch. Threw and picked
up and threw and picked up and threw and picked up and had to get
another bottle after all and threw and picked up and threw, and _there
you are_.
_You wouldn’t believe it, both ’fem stick ’tonce!_
He got up and went out the back door, feeling in his pocket for keys.
Somebody came up and asked him if he was Wendt, but he fooled ’em, just
said, “Man, I ain’t even come yet,” and kept going, to the garage.