"There was--God-damn it, it's too foolish! There was a--a _flying
saucer_ story in the paper that day. Somebody saw it land on a hilltop
somewhere. Some crackpot. Some ... how about it, kid?"
I couldn't say yes and I couldn't say no, and I did the only thing
that was left, which was to get hysterical. In a big way.
He had to calm me down, of course. And I found out why the television
shows stop with the kiss. The rest is very private and personal.
* * * * *
_Author's note: This story was dictated to me by a five-year-old
boy--word-for-word, except for a very few editorial changes of my own.
He is a very charming and bright youngster who plays with my own
five-year-old daughter. One day he wandered into my office, and
watched me typing for a while, then asked what I was doing. I answered
(somewhat irritably, because the children are supposed to stay out of
the room when I'm working) that I was trying to write a story._
"_What kind of a story?_"
"_A grown-up story._"
"_But what_ kind?"
_"A science-fiction story." The next thing I was going to do was to
call my daughter, and ask her to take her company back to the
playroom. I had my mouth open, but I never got a syllable out. Teddy
was talking._
_"I don't know where they got the car," he said. "They made three or
four stops before the last...." He had a funny look on his face, and
his eyes were glazed-looking._
_I had seen some experimental work with hypnosis and post-hypnotic
performance. After the first couple of sentences, I led Teddy into the
living-room, and switched on the tape-recorder. I left it on as long
as he kept talking. I had to change tapes once, and missed a few more
sentences. When he was done, I asked him, with the tape still running,
where he had heard that story._
_"What story?" he asked. He looked perfectly normal again._
"_The story you just told me._"
_He was obviously puzzled._
"_The_ science-fiction _story_," _I said_.
_"I don't know where they got the car," he began; his face was set and
his eyes were blank._
_I kept the tape running, and picked up the parts I'd missed before.
Then I sent Teddy off to the playroom, and played back the tape, and
thought for a while._
_There was a little more, besides what you've read. Parts of it were
confused, with some strange words mixed in, and with sentences
half-completed, and a feeling of ambivalence or censorship or
inhibition of some kind preventing much clarity. Other parts were
quite clear. Of these, the only section I have omitted so far that
seems to me to belong in the story is this one:--_
* * * * *
The baby will have to be born on Earth! They have decided that
themselves. And for the first time, I am glad that they cannot
communicate with me as perfectly as they do among themselves. I can
think some things they do not know about.
We are not coming back. I do not think that I will like it on Earth
for very long, and I do not know--neither does Larry--what will happen
to us when the Security people find us, and we cannot answer their
questions. But--
I am a woman now, and I love like a woman. Larry will not be their
pet; so I cannot be. I am not sure that I am fit to be what Larry
thinks of as a "human being." He says I must learn to be "my own
master." I am not at all sure I could do this, if it were necessary,
but fortunately, this is one of Larry's areas of semantic confusion.
The feminine of _master_ is _mistress_, which has various meanings.
Also, there is the distinct possibility, from what Larry says, that we
will not, _either_ of us, be allowed even as much liberty as we have
here.
There is also the matter of gratitude. _They_ brought me up, took care
of me, taught me, loved me, gave me a way of life, and a knowledge of
myself, infinitely richer than I could ever have had on Earth. Perhaps
they even saved my life, healing me when I was quite possibly beyond
the power of Earthly medical science to save. But against all this--
_They_ caused the damage to start with. It was _their_ force-field
that wrecked the car and killed my parents. _They_ have paid for it;
_they_ are paying for it yet. _They_ will continue to pay, for more
years than make sense in terms of a human lifetime. _They_ will
continue to wander from planet to planet and system to system, because
_they_ have broken _their_ own law, and now may never go home.
But _I_ can.
I am a woman, and Larry is a man. We will go home and have our baby.
And perhaps the baby will be the means of our freedom, some day. If we
cannot speak to save ourselves, he may some day be able to speak for
us.
I do not think the blocks they set in us will penetrate my womb as my
own thoughts, I hope, already have.
* * * * *
_Author's note: Before writing this story--as a story--I talked with
Johnny's parents. I approached them cautiously. His mother is a big
woman, and a brunette. His father is a friendly fat redhead. I already
knew that neither of them reads science-fiction. The word is not
likely to be mentioned in their household._
_They moved to town about three years ago. Nobody here knew them
before that, but there are rumors that Johnny is adopted. They did not
volunteer any confirmation of that information when I talked to them,
and they did not pick up on any of the leads I offered about his
recitation._
_Johnny himself is small and fair-haired. He takes after his paternal
grandmother, his mother says...._
* * * * *