Time Enough For Love

DA CAPO-VII

Staff Sergeant Theodore Bronson found Kansas City changed-uniforms everywhere, posters everywhere. Uncle Sam stared out at him: "I want you for the United States Army." A Red Cross nurse was shown holding a wounded man in a stretcher as if he were a baby, with the one word:

"GIVE." A sign on a restaurant said: "We Observe All Meatless, Wheatless, and Sweetless Days." Service flags were in many windows-he counted five stars on one, saw several with gold stars.

More traffic than he recalled and streetcars were crowded, many passengers in uniform-it seemed as if all of Camp Funston and every camp or fort within reaching distance had all been dumped into the city at once. Untrue, he knew, but the train he had dozed in most of last night had been so jammed that it seemed true.

That "Khaki Special" had been almost as dirty as a cattle train and even slower; it had sidetracked again and again in favor of freights, and once for a troop train. Lazarus arrived in Kansas City late in the morning, tired and filthy-having left camp clean and rested. But he had his battered old grip with him and planned to correct both conditions before seeing his "adopted" family.

Waving a five-dollar bill in front of the railroad station got him a taxi, but the hackie insisted on picking up three more passengers going south after asking what direction Lazarus was going. The taxicab was a Ford landaulet like his own, but in much worse condition. The glass partition between front and back seats (the feature that made it a "limousine") had been removed, and the collapsible half-top of the rear compartment appeared to have collapsed for the last time. But with five in it, plus baggage on knees, ventilation was welcome. The driver said, "Sergeant, you were first. Where to?"

Lazarus said that he wanted to find a hotel room out south, near Thirty-first.

"You're an optimist-hard enough to find one downtown. But we'll try. Drop these other gentlemen first, maybe?"

Eventually he wound up near Thirty-first and Main-"Permanent and Transient-all rooms & apts. with bath." The driver said, "This joint costs too much-but it's this or go back downtown. No, keep your money till we see if they can take you. You about to go overseas?"

"So I hear."

"So your fare is a dollar; I don't take no tips from a man about to go over-I got a boy 'Over There.' Le'me talk to that clerk."

Ten minutes later Lazarus was luxuriating in the first tub bath he had had since April 6, 1917. Then he slept three hours. When his inner alarm woke him, he dressed in clean clothes from skin out, his best uniform-the breeches he had retailored for a smarter peg at the knee. He went down to the lobby and telephoned his family's home.

Carol answered and squealed. "Oh! Mama, it's Uncle Ted!"

Maureen Smith's voice was serenely warm. "Where are you, Sergeant Theodore? Brian Junior wants to go fetch you home."

"Please tell him thanks, Mrs. Smith, but I'm in a hotel at the Thirty-first Street car line; I'll be there before he could get here-if I'm welcome."

"'Welcome'? What a way for our adopted soldier to talk. You don't belong in a hotel; you must stay here. Brian-my husband, I mean, the Captain-told us to expect you and that you were to stay with us. Did he not tell you so?"

"Ma'am, I've seen the Captain just once, three weeks ago. So far as I know, he doesn't know I'm on leave." Lazarus added, "I don't want to put you out."

"Pish and tush, Sergeant Theodore, let's have no more of that. At the beginning of the war we changed the maid's room downstairs-my sewing room, where you played chess with Woodrow-into a guest room, so that the Captain could bring a brother officer home on a weekend. Must I tell my husband that you refused to sleep there?"

(Maureen my love, that's putting the cat too close to the canary! I won't sleep; I'll lie awake thinking about you upstairs-surrounded by kids and Gramp.) "Mrs. Captain generous hostess ma'am, I'll be utterly delighted to sleep in your sewing room."

"That's better, Sergeant. For a moment I thought Mama was going to have to spank."

Brian Junior was waiting at, the Benton car stop, with George as footman, and with Carol and Marie in the back seat. George grabbed the grip and took charge of it; Marie shrilled, "My, doesn't Uncle Ted look pretty!" and Carol corrected her:

"Handsome, Marie. Soldiers look handsome and smart, not 'pretty.' Isn't that right, Uncle Ted?"

Lazarus picked the smaller girl up by her elbows and kissed her cheek, set her down. "Technically correct, Carol-but 'pretty' suits me just fine if Marie thinks I am. Quite a welcoming committee-do I run along behind?"

"You sit in the tonneau with the girls," Brian Junior ruled. "But look at this first!" He pointed. "A foot throttle! Isn't that bully?"

Lazarus agreed, then took a few moments to inspect the car-in better shape than he had left it, shining and clean from spokes to top and with several new items besides the foot accelerator: a dressy radiator cap, rubber nonskids for the pedals, a tire holder on the rear with a patent-leather cover for a spare tire, a robe rail in the rear compartment with a lap robe folded neatly, and-finishing touch-a cut-glass bud vase with a single rose. "Is the engine kept as beautifully as the rest?"

George opened the hood. Lazarus looked and nodded approvingly. "It could take a white-glove inspection."

"That's exactly what Grandpa gives it," Brian declared. "He says if we don't take care of it, we can't use it."

"You do take care of it."

Lazarus arrived in royal splendor, one arm around a big little girl, the other around a small little girl. Gramp was waiting on the front porch, came down the walk to meet him, and Lazarus suddenly revised his mental image: The old soldier was in uniform and seemed a foot taller and ramrod straight-ribbons on his chest, chevrons on his sleeves, puttees most carefully rolled, campaign hat perched high and turned up slightly behind.

As Lazarus turned from handing Carol out, Marie having danced ahead, Gramp paused and threw Lazarus a sweeping Throckmartin salute. "Welcome home, Sergeant!"

Lazarus returned it as flamboyantly. "Thank you, Sergeant; I'm glad to be here." He added, "Mr. Johnson, you didn't tell me you were a supply sergeant."

"Somebody has to count the socks. I agreed to take-"

The rest was lost to Woodie's explosive arrival. "Hey, Uncle Sergeant! You're going to play chess with me!"

"Sure, Sport," Lazarus agreed, his attention distracted by two other things: Mrs. Smith at the open door, and a service flag in the parlor window. Three stars- Three?

Then Gramp was urging him in with something about this being a drill night so supper would be early. Nancy kissed him, openly and without glancing first for her mother's approval-then Dickie had to be picked up and kissed, and Baby Ethel (walking!), and at last Maureen gave him her slender hand, drew him to her, and brushed his cheek with her lips. "Sergeant Theodore...it is so good to have you home."

Supper was a noisy, well-run circus, with Gramp presiding in lieu of his son-in-law, while his daughter ran things with serene dignity from the other end and did not get up once Lazarus placed her chair under her and took his seat of honor on her right. Her three oldest daughters did all that was necessary. Ethel sat in a highchair on her mother's left with George helping her-Lazarus learned that this duty rotated among the five eldest.

It was a lavish meal for wartime, with hot, golden cornbread replacing white bread, this being a wheatless day-and firmest discipline (administered by Nancy and Brian Junior) requircd that every morsel accepted must be eaten, with admonitions about hungry Belgians. Lazarus did not care what he ate but remembered to compliment the cooks (three), and tried to answer all that was said to him-nearly impossible as Brian and George wanted to tell about their troop's drive to collect walnut shells and peach pits and how many it took for each gas mask, and Marie had to be allowed to boast that she could knit just as well as George could and she did not either drop stitches!-and how many squares it took to make a blanket, while Gramp wanted to talk shop with Lazarus and had to be stern to get a word in edgewise.

Maureen Smith seemed to find it unnecessary to talk. She smiled and looked happy, but it seemed to Lazarus that there was tension under her self-control-the ages-old strain of Penelope. (For me, darling? No, of course not. I wish I could tell you that Pop will come back, unharmed. But how could I make you believe that I know? You're going to ,have to sweat it out the way Penelope did. I'm sorry, my love.) "Excuse me, Carol- I missed that."

"I said it's perfectly horrid that you have to go back so soon! When you're just about to go 'Over There.'"

"But it's quite a lot, Carol, in wartime. It's just that getting here and getting back eats up so much time. I'm not entitled to special privileges; I don't know that I am about to ship out."

There was silence around the table, and the older boys exchanged glances.

Ira Johnson broke it by saying gently, "Sergeant, the children know what a pass in the middle of the week means. But they don't talk; they are disciplined. My son-in-law decided-wisely, I think-not to keep things from them unnecessarily."

"But, Grandpa, when Papa has leave, he doesn't go back next day. It's not fair."

"That's because," Brian Junior said wisely, "Papa usually rides with Captain Bozell in that big ol' Marmon Six and they burn up the road. Staff Sergeant Uncle Ted, I could drive' you back to camp. Then you wouldn't have to leave till later tomorrow night."

"Thank you, Brian-but I don't think we'd better. If I catch the train we call the 'Reveille Special' tomorrow evening, I'm safe even-if the train is a bit late, and this is one time I'm not going to risk being over leave."

"I agree with Sergeant Bronson," Gramp added, "and that settles it, Brian. Ted can't risk being late. I see that I had better move along, too. Daughter, if I may be excused?"

"Certainly, Father."

"Sergeant Johnson, may I drive you to your parade ground? Or wherever it is?"

"To the Armory. No, no, Ted, my captain picks me up and brings me home; he and I go early and stay late. Mrrph. Why don't you take Maureen for a spin? She hasn't been out of the house for a week; she's getting pale."

"Mrs. Smith? I'd be honored."

"We'll all go!"

"George," his grandfather said firmly, "the idea is to give your mother an hour free of the pressure and noise of children."

"Sergeant Ted promised to play chess with me!"

"Woodie, I heard what he said. He did not set a time...and he'll be here tomorrow."

"And he promised to take me to Electric Park a long, long, long time ago, and he never did!"

"Woodie, I'm sorry about that," Lazarus answered, "but the war came along before the park opened. We may have to wait until the war is over."

"But you said-"

"Woodrow," his mother said firmly, "stop that. This is Sergeant Theodore's leave, not yours."

"And get that sulky look off your face," added his grandfather, "before we form a regimental square and have you flogged around the flagpole. Nancy? Charge-of-quarters, dear."

"But-" The oldest girl shut up.

"Father, Nancy's young man is about to reach his birthday and is not going to wait to be drafted, I think I told you. So some of the young people are giving him a surprise party tonight."

"Oh, yes-slipped my mind.' Fine young man, Ted; you would approve of him. Correction, Nancy; you're off duty. Carol?"

"Carol and I can take care of anything," Brian answered. "Can't we, Carol? My night to wash, Marie wipes, George's turn to put away. Bedtimes by the schedules, emergency telephone numbers on the blackboard-we know the standing orders."

"May I be excused, too, then?" said Nancy. "Staff Sergeant Ted-you will be here tomorrow. Won't you?"

Lazarus went out to the curb to meet Gramp's militia captain. When he came in, Maureen had gone upstairs. He grabbed the chance to freshen up in the bath off the quondam sewing room. Fifteen minutes later he was handing Mrs. Smith into the front seat of the landaulet, himself dizzied by her wonderful fragrance. Had she managed to bathe again in twenty minutes or so? It seemed like it; she had certainly changed clothes. These wartime styles were startling; as he handed her in Lazarus caught a glimpse not only of trim ankle but quite a lot of shapely calf. He was shaken by the thrill it gave him.

How long would this dress cycle last? While he cranked the car, he tried to quiet himself by thinking about it. Corsets disappeared right after this war, and skirts went up and up all during the Torrid Twenties, the "Jazz Age." Then women's styles varied all through this century but with a steady trend toward letting men see more and more of "what they were fighting for." But social nudity, even in swimming, did not become really common until the end of the century, so he seemed to recall. Then a puritan reaction the following century-a horrid time he had fled from.

What would Maureen think if he tried to tell her any of it?

The engine caught; he got in beside her. "Where would you like to go, Mrs. Smith?"

"Oh, out south. Somewhere quiet."

"South it is." Lazarus glanced at the setting sun, turned on his headlights. He made a U-turn and headed south.

"But my name is not 'Mrs. Smith', Theodore...when we are alone."

"Thank you...Maureen." Straight out to Thirty-ninth- then over to the Paseo? Or Prospect and out as far as Swope Park? Would she let him take her that far? Oh, for a thousand miles of open road and Maureen beside me!

"I like the way you say my name, Theodore. Do you remember where you took the children for a picnic not long before the war started?"

"Near the Blue River. You want to go there, Maureen?"

"Yes. If you don't remember the way, I can guide you; I suggested it for that picnic."

"We'll find it."

"It need not be that spot...but somewhere quiet-and private. Where you need not give your attention to driving."

(Hey! Maureen, my darling, you don't want us to be too private-I might shock you dreadfully. Private enough for a good-bye kiss-fine! Then let's deliver you home safe and sound. You are this century, my sweet! rd rather have one kiss-and your love and respect-than entice you into more aid have you think of me with regret. I decided that many months ago. You darling.)

"I should turn here?"

"Yes. Theodore, Brian Junior said that the new throttle he installed made it possible to drive with one hand."

"Yes, that's true."

"Then do drive with one hand. Is that plain enough, or must I be still more bold?"

Cautiously he put his arm across her shoulders. She promptly reached up, took his hand, pulled it down, and pressed it to her breast, saying quietly, "We haven't time to be shy, dear Theodore. Don't be afraid to touch me."

Firm-soft breast. Nipple erect to his touch. She shivered and got closer to him, again pressed her hand to his and gave a tiny moan. Lazarus said huskily, "I love you, Maureen."

She answered, just loud enough to be heard by him over the engine noise. "We have loved each other since the night we met. We simply could not say so."

"Yes. I didn't dare tell you."

"You would never have told me, Theodore. So I had to be bold and let you know that I feel it, too." She added, "The turn is just ahead, I think."

"I think so too. I'll need both hands to drive that lane."

"Yes," she agreed, surrendering his arm, "but only till we get there. Then I want both your arms...and all your attention."

"Yes!" He drove in carefully, avoiding ruts, until the lane widened into the level grassy spot he remembered. There he turned the car full circle, in part to head it out but primarily to see that no one else was there. His headlights picked up nothing but grass and trees-good! (Or was it good? Oh, my darling, do you know what you are doing?)

He switched off the lights, stopped the engine, set the hand brake. Maureen came right into his arms; her mouth sought his, opened wide to him. For long moments they needed no words; her mouth, her hands were as eager as his and even bolder, urging him on.

Presently she chuckled happily against his lips and whispered, "Surprised? But I can't say a proper good-bye to my warrior with bloomers on so I took them off when I went upstairs, and my corset, too. Don't hold back, dear one; you can't harm me-I'm expecting."

"What did you say?"

"Theodore, must I always be the one with bold words and bold actions? I am pregnant, seven weeks now. Certain."

"Oh." He added thoughtfully, "This seat is narrow."

"I hear that the young people sometimes take the back seat out and put it on the ground. Or do chiggers worry you? Audacity, darling, a warrior must be audacious-so says my father, and my husband agrees. There is a lap rug back there, too."

(Maureen, my love, there is no doubt where I got my own audacity-or my ruttiness. From you, darling.) "if you'll let go of me, I'll get them out. I'm not afraid of chiggers-nor of the loveliest woman I've ever held in my arms. I just have trouble believing it."

"I'll help!"

She was out of the car without waiting; he slid, across the seat and followed her. She opened the tonneau door-and stopped. Then she said loudly and happily, "Woodrow, you're a scamp! Sergeant Theodore! See who is sleeping in the back seat!" As she spoke, she fumbled behind her, trying to reach buttons of his that she had unbuttoned. Lazarus quickly took over the task.

"Sergeant Ted promised to take me to Electric Park!"

"That's where we're going, darling; we're almost there. Now tell Mama- Shall we take you home and put you to bed? Or are you big enough to stay awake and go to Electric Park?"

"Yes, Sport," Lazarus agreed. "Home? Or Electric Park?" (Maureen, did Gramp teach you to lie? Or is it genius? I not only love you, I admire you. Pershing should have you on his staff.) He hastily refastened buttons at the back of her dress.

"Huh? Electric Park!"

"Then settle back down and we'll have you there in no time."

"I want to ride in front!"

"Sport, you can ride in back to Electric Park. Or ride in back till we get you home and into bed. I won't drive with three in the front seat."

"Brian does!"

"Let's go home, Mrs. Smith. Woodie doesn't know who's driving this car-he must be quite sleepy."

"I am not either! I had a nap. All right, I'll ride in back- to Electric Park."

"Mrs. Smith?"

"We'll go to Electric Park, Sergeant Theodore. If Woodrow will lie down and try to get another nap."

Woodie promptly lay down; they closed him in and Lazarus got them out of there. Once there was enough engine noise to blanket her words, she said, "I must telephone. Back where we turned off, you'll find a drugstore farther along-that's on our way to Electric Park."

"Right away. How much do you think he heard?"

"I think he was asleep until I opened the door. But nothing of importance if he was not and would understand less. Don't worry, Theodore-audacity, always audacity."

"Maureen, you should be a soldier. A general."

"I would rather be loved by soldiers...and I am, and it makes me wonderfully happy. Now you can drive with one hand again."

"That's just glass, he can see us."

"Theodore, you can touch me without putting an arm around me. I shall sit up straight and pretend to ignore whatever you find to do. But I am a very frustrated woman-and I want to be touched. By you." She chuckled. "Aren't we a pair of ninnies?"

"I suppose so. But I'm not laughing." Lazarus squeezed her thigh. "I'm too frustrated."

"Oh, but you must laugh, Theodore." She pulled up her skirt, moved his hand onto bare thigh above round garters. "When you have as many children as I have, you must laugh. Or go crazy." She pushed her skirt down, over his hand.

He caressed her warm, smooth skin; she eased her thighs and invited more. "I guess it is funny," he admitted. "Two full-grown adults outflanked by a six-year-old."

"Only five, Theodore. Not six until November." She squeezed his hand between plump thighs, then relaxed. "How well I remember. Biggest baby I've had, eight pounds...and more trouble than all the rest put together, and always a scamp and always my favorite and I try never to let it show-and you must not tell on me-that Woodrow is my favorite, I mean; I'm not afraid of your telling anything else. I know my reputation is safe with you."

"It is."

"I knew it or would never have plotted to take you out there. But 'reputation' is all it is; you now know what a hussy I am under my mask. But I cultivate a good reputation most carefully for my children. For my husband."

"You said 'plotted.'"

"Weren't you sure of it? I knew at once, when I learned how short your time is, that I had exactly one chance to get you alone and make you realize that I want you to come back with your shield, not on it. There is only one way for a woman to tell a warrior that. So I enlisted Father's help to get you away from my swarm of children." She chuckled again. "But the worst scamp I have ruined my carefully plotted plans. For he has, dear one-I don't dare risk it at home. I'll always regret that we didn't succeed...and I hope you will, too."

"Oh, I will, I do! You put Mr. Johnson up to suggesting this ride? Won't he suspect?"

"I'm sure he does. And disapproves. Of me, Theodore-not of you. But my reputation is as safe in his hands as in yours. Want to hear a sidesplitting joke? One that will make us laugh so hard that we'll forget how frustrated we are."

"I'll laugh if you do."

"Did you wonder how I knew the perfect place? Because I have been there before, Theodore, for the same purpose. But that's not the joke; this is: That rascal in the back seat was conceived there-on the very spot I was going to have you place me."

Lazarus thought a split second, then guffawed. "You're sure?"

"Utterly certain, sir. Ten feet from where you stopped. By that biggest black-walnut tree. I planned to have you place me on the same spot. I'm sentimental, Theodore; I wanted you to have me right where I conceived my favorite child. And the little imp stopped me! After I had become quite excited thinking about doing it with you on the very spot."

Lazarus thought a long moment-decided that he did want to know. "Who was he, Maureen?"

"What? Oh! I suppose I invited that so I shan't resent it. Theodore, I'm scarlet but not that scarlet. My husband, dear-all my children are his, no possibility of error. You have seen Brian only as an officer-but in private my husband is quite playful. So much so that I never wear bloomers when I go joyriding with him.

"It was February eighteenth, a Sunday, one I'll never forget. I kept a hired girl then; Nancy was too young to leave with the younger ones, and Brian was on the road, traveling, and wanted me to be ready for anything when he was in town, and he had just bought his first automobile.

'That Sunday was one of those false-spring days, and Brian decided to take me joyriding. Just me. He had established a firm rule that some occasions were for all our family, some were just for Mama and Papa-a good policy in a. large family, we think. So we got to that lovely picnic spot, pretty even in winter, and the ground was dry. We sat and lallygagged, and he had his hand where yours is-and he told me to take my clothes off."

"In February?"

"I didn't protest. It was at least sixty and no wind-but I would in much colder weather if my husband asked me to. So I did-all but shoes and stockings, and I looked like one of those French postcards you men buy in cigar stores. I didn't feel cold, I felt grand-I like to feel naughty, and Brian encourages me to, in private. He put down the back seat cushion-on that spot-and put a blanket on it. And had me. And that's when I got Woodrow. It had to be then because Brian was home just one day and that was the only time. Quite unusual, we usually squeeze in more loving, we enjoy it so." She chuckled. "When we were sure, Brian teased me about the iceman and the milkman and the postman-or was it the grocery boy? I teased right back that it could have been any of them-but the woodman got there first...in the woods. Right here, dear one; I won't be but a moment."

They all went in, as Woodie woke up (if he had slept; Lazarus had dark doubts-then reviewed it in his mind and decided that Maureen had been careful both in voice and phrasing). Lazarus bought the little boy an ice-cream cone to keep him quiet and sat him at the fountain, then moved to the other end and listened to her telephone call; he wanted to know what lies he must back up.

"Carol? Mama, dear. Have you counted our zoo lately?

Stop worrying; the scamp hid in the back seat, and we didn't know it until we were almost to Electric Park. Yes, dear, Electric Park and I'm feeling very gay. I'm going to keep Woodrow with us and not let the imp spoil our fun.

Earlier than I want to; Woodrow will be sleepy too soon to suit Mama; I want to ride every ride and win at least a Kewpie doll at the booths...Yes, as long as Marie is in bed on time. Make fudge for the boys-no, not fudge; we must watch the sugar ration. Make popcorn, and tell them I'm sorry they were worried. Then you older ones may stay up and say good-night to Uncle Ted. Good-bye, dear."

She thanked the druggist with smiling dignity, took Woodie's hand and left unhurriedly. But the moment Lazarus had the car rolling, she took his right hand and restored it to warm intimacy of bare thighs. "Any trouble?" he asked, caressing her silken skin.

"None. They had been engaged in a bloodthirsty 'game of F1n h and didn't miss him until- it was time to put him to bed, only minutes before I called. Then they were worried, but not yet frantic; my little demon has hidden on us before. Theodore, Electric Park is an expense you did not expect. Will you put aside your pride and let me help?"

"I would if I needed help: I don't have that sort of useless pride. But I have plenty of money, truly. If I run short, I'll tell you." (Beloved, darling, I've been teaching optimists not to draw to inside straights, and I wish I could spend every cent of it on emeralds to set off your beautiful skin. But your pride makes that impossible.)

"Theodore, not only do I love you, you are a most comfortable person to be with."

Taking Woodie and his mother to Electric Park turned out to be more fun than Lazarus expected. He had nothing against amusement parks and was willing to be anywhere with Maureen-except that this time he expected to put up with restless frustration, in public where he must treat her as "Mrs. Smith," after being in warmest privacy-then disappointed.

But she taught him a lesson in how to enjoy the inevitable.

He learned that Maureen could be unblushingly intimate despite people all around them and still maintain her smiling, regal, public dignity. She did it by keeping her persona always intact-happy young matron with boy child clutching her hand, both enjoying an evening of innocent fun as guests of "Cousin" Theodore, "Uncle" Ted-while she found endless chances to continue her gaily bawdy conversation. Maureen did it not in whispers, but in ordinary tones pitched to reach Lazarus' ears only, or sometimes to Lazarus and Woodie but so phrased that the child would neither understand nor be interested.

Once she gently chided Lazarus. "Smile, beloved man. Let your face show that you are where you want to be, doing what you want to do. There, that's better. Now hold that expression and tell me why you were looking glum."

He grinned at her. "Because I'm frustrated, Maureen. Because I'm not in a certain spot by a big walnut tree."

She chuckled as if he had said something witty. "Alone?"

"Heavens, no! With you."

"Not so vehemently, Theodore. You are not courting me; you are my cousin who is wasting part of your precious leave by treating me and my child to an evening of fun-when you had hoped that I would find you a young lady who would turn out to be not at all ladylike when you took her to a dark place near a big walnut tree. You're a good sport about it- but not so enthusiastic as to cause Mrs. Grundy to raise her eyebrow...and there comes Mrs. Grundy now. Mrs. Simpson! And Mr. Simpson. How nice to run across you! Lauretta, may I present my dear cousin Staff Sergeant Bronson? And Mr. Simpson, Theodore." Maureen added, "Or perhaps you have met? At church? Before war was declared?"

Mrs. Simpson looked him over, counted the money in his wallet, checked his underwear, inspected his shave and haircut-assigned him a barely passing mark. "You belong to our church, Mr. Johnson?"

"'Bronson,' Lauretta. Theodore Bronson, Father's eldest sister's son."

"Either way," Mr. Simpson said heartily, "it's a pleasure to shake hands with one of 'Our Boys.' Where are you stationed, Sergeant?"

"Camp Funston, sir. Mrs. Simpson, I was a visitor to your church; my membership is in Springfield."

Maureen stopped their questions by asking Lazarus to fetch Woodie from the miniature railroad train, just returning to its ticket-booth depot. "Pull him like a cork, Theodore; three rides is enough. Lauretta, I didn't see you at Red Cross last week. May we count on you this week?"

Lazarus returned with Woodie in time for Mr. Simpson to wave and call out, "Good luck, Sergeant!" as the Simpsons moved on. The trio went next to the pony ride, got Woodie astraddle one; Mrs. Smith and Lazarus sat on a, bench, enjoyed more very private talk while very much in the public eye. "Maureen, 'you stole that base beautifully."

"No problem, dear one. I knew someone would see us, so I was ready. I'm pleased that it was the nastiest old gossip in-our church; I made sure she didn't miss us. Pillars of the church and war profiteers; I despise them. So I pulled her fangs and let's forget them. You were telling me about a certain dark spot. How was I dressed?"

"Like a French postcard!"

"Why, Sergeant Bronson!-and me a respectable woman. Or almost. Surely you don't think I would dare be that shameless?"

"Maureen, I'm not sure what you would dare. You have startled-and delighted me-several times. I think you have the courage to do anything you want to do."

"Possibly, Theodore, but I have limits on what I will do, no matter how much I want to. Do you want to know my limits?"

"If you want me to know, you'll tell me. If you don't, you won't."

"I want you to know, beloved Theodore. I would like to strip naked this very moment. I refrain only for practical reasons-not moral ones and not shyness; I want to give you my body, let you enjoy it any way you please-while I enjoy yours. There are no limits to what I want to do with you but only to what I will do.

"First"-she ticked them off-"I will not risk becoming pregnant by any man but Brian. Second, I will not knowingly risk the well-being of my husband and children."

"Weren't you risking that tonight?"

"Was I, Theodore?"

Lazarus thought about it. Pregnancy? Not a factor. Disease? She apparently trusted him on that-and Yes, darling, you are right. I don't know why you hold that opinion of me, but you're right. What does that leave? A chance of scandal if we had been caught. How much chance? Very little; it's as safe a spot as one could wish. Cops? Lazarus doubted that police ever checked that spot-and doubted still more strongly that a policeman, in the present war fever, would tell a soldier in uniform more than "Break it up and move on."

"No, my darling, you took no risks. Uh, if I had asked you to undress completely, would you have done so?"

Her laugh rang like chimes. Then She answered in her controlled pitch more private than a whisper. "I thought about that while I was taking a quick bath to make myself sweet for you, Theodore. It was a delightfully tempting idea; Brian has had me do so outdoors oftener than that once. It excites me, and he says that makes me more fun for him. But that's a risk he chooses to take, so it worries me not at all-with him. But I did not think it fair to him to take that risk on my own. So I firmly resolved, with my nipples crinkled up as hard as you felt them-hard as they are now; I'm terribly excited-I resolved not only not to undress but not to let you do so. Dear, will you go pay for another pony ride? Or fetch him if he's tired of that?"

Lazarus found that Woodie wanted another ride. He paid and went back to the bench, found Maureen staring down a lonely soldier. Lazarus touched his sleeve. "On your way, Private."

The soldier looked around, ready to argue-looked again and said, "Oh. Sorry, Sergeant. No offense meant."

"And none taken. Better luck elsewhere."

Maureen said, "I hate to snub a boy in uniform, even when -I must. He wasn't fresh to me, Theodore-he was just exploring the chances. I must be twice his age and was tempted to tell him so. But it would have hurt his feelings."

"The trouble is that you look eighteen, so they're certain to try."

"Darling, I do not look eighteen. Me with a daughter over seventeen? If Nancy marries her young man before he goes to war-she wants to, and Brian and I won't stop it-I'll be a grandmother this coming year."

"Hi, Grandmaw."

"Tease. I will enjoy being a grandmother."

"I'm certain you will, dear; I think you have great capacity for enjoying life." (As I do, Mama!-and now I feel sure I got it both from you and Pop.)

"I do, Theodore." She smiled. "Even when frustrated. Very."

"Me, too-very. But we were talking about how old you look. Eighteen, that is."

"Pooh. You noticed how broken down and baby-chewed my breasts are."

"I noticed nothing of the sort."

"Then you have no sense of touch, sir...for you handled them quite thoroughly."

"Excellent sense of touch. Lovely breasts."

"Theodore, I try to take care of them. But they've been filled with milk much of the past eighteen years. That one"- she nodded toward the pony ring-"I didn't have enough milk for and had to put him on Eagle Brand, and he resented it. When I had Richard two years later, Woodrow tried to crowd out the new baby and take my freshened breasts. I had to be firm-when what I wanted was to have one at each breast. But one must be fair to children, not spoil one at the expense of another." She smiled indulgently. "I have no sense about Woodrow, so I must follow my rules to the letter. Come back in a year, Theodore, and they won't seem so broken down. They swell out and make me look like a cow."

"Will you make it worth my while?"

"By a walnut tree? Probably no chance, dear one. I'm afraid my scamp killed our one chance."

"Oh, it wouldn't take that much to make it worthwhile. I was thinking of a taste-direct from producer to consumer." (Mama Maureen, as Galahad says and I've never argued, I'm the most tit-happy man in the Galaxy...and I'm staring at the spot where I acquired the habit. I wish I could tell you so. Darling.)

She looked startled, snorted, and looked delighted. "That might be almost as hard to arrange as a walnut tree. But- Yes if it can be done without shocking my children. You are a scamp, too-just like Woodrow. I know I would enjoy it. Because-this is secret, dear-Brian has tasted each new freshening. Claims solemnly that he's checking quality and butterfat content."

(Pop, you're a man of good taste!) "Does he ever find that one has a taste different from the other?"

She chuckled happily. "Dear one, you have so many playful quirks just like my husband that- you make me feel bigamous. He claims so, but it's just more of his joking. I can't tell any difference-and I've tasted."

"Madam, I look forward to giving you an expert's opinion. I think our cowboy has worn out his pony. What next? Want to try the Ben Hur Racer?"

She shook her head. "I enjoy roller coasters but won't go on one now. I've never miscarried, Theodore, and never will if being careful will keep me from it. Take Woodrow if you like."

"No. You would have to wait-and these woods are filled with wolves in khaki anxious to pick up eighteen-year-old grandmothers. The Fun House?"

'"All right." Then her mouth twitched. "No, I forgot something. Those blasts of air up from the floor-intended to make girls squeal and clutch their skirts. Which I don't mind but-no bloomers, dear. Unless you want everyone to see whether or not I'm truly a redhead."

"Are you?"

She smiled, unoffended. "Tease. Don't you know?"

"It was very dark near that walnut tree."

"Redhead at both ends, Theodore. As I would happily show you were it not for the-frustrating-circumstances. Brian asked me that while we were courting. Teasing, he didn't need to ask; I was covered with freckles then, just like Marie. I let him find out for himself on a grassy spot by the Marais des Cygnes River while a gentle old mare named 'Daisy' cropped grass and paid no attention to my happy squeals. I suppose the automobile is here to stay-but the horse-and-buggy had many advantages. Didn't you find it so? When you started stepping out with young ladies?"

Lazarus agreed with a straight face, unable to admit that his memories did not include 1899 or whatever year she was thinking of. Maureen went on, "I used to fix a picnic lunch and take a blanket to eat on. That was one way a girl of courting age could be unchaperoned as long as I was home before dark. A horse can take a buggy into spots even more private than our walnut tree. Truthfully, despite this modem talk about 'wild women' and morals breaking down, I had more freedom as a girl than my daughters do. Although I try not to make my chaperonage oppressive."

"They don't seem oppressed. I'm sure they're happy."

"Theodore, I would much rather have my children be happy than what our pastor says is 'moral.' I simply want to be sure they aren't hurt. I am not 'moral' by the accepted rules-as you know quite well. Though not as well as I had hoped you would know it, and I'm taking out my frustration in talking about it. Perhaps you would rather I did not?"

"Maureen, since we can't do it, the next best thing is talking about it."

"Me, too, Theodore. I wish I were covered with chigger bites and my soul filled with the peace I know you could give me. Since I can't give myself to you the way I had hoped, I want you to know me as deeply as words can bring us together as deeply as I wish you were in my body this very instant. Does my frankness shock you?"

"No. But it might get you raped right on this bench!"

"Please, not so much enthusiasm, dear one; people can see us-we're talking about the weather. Tell me, is your thing hard?"

"Does it show?"

"No, but if it is, think about blizzards and icebergs-Brian says that helps-because our pony rider needs to be lifted down."

They played both games for prizes; then Mrs. Smith decided that she could risk the Fun House if she clutched her skirts as if crossing a muddy street. Woodie enjoyed it, especially the Hall of Mirrors and the Crystal Maze. Maureen avoided air blasts by watching girls ahead of them, then either walked on one side or held her skirts firmly.

Woodie tired himself out, so Lazarus picked him up and he seemed to fall asleep-as his head touched Lazarus' shoulder. They started to leave, which took them over the farewell air blast. Mrs. Smith was ahead and Lazarus assumed that she had it spotted from the way she swerved-then she turned as if to speak to him, and stood over it. Her skirts went flying high.

She did not squeal; she simply pushed them down a split second too late. Once they were outside she said, "Well, sir?"

"Same color. But curly, I think."

"Quite. As curly as my other hair is straight; As you already knew."

"And you did it on purpose."

"Certainly. Woodrow is asleep and you had his head turned away. Perhaps some stranger got an eyeful, but I think not. If someone did, what can he do? Write a letter to my husband? Pooh. There was no one in there who knows us; I kept my eyes open. And grabbed the chance."

"Maureen, you continue to amaze and delight me."

"Thank you, sir."

"And you have beautiful limbs."

"'Legs,' Theodore. Brian says so, too, but I'm no expert on women's legs. But when he tells me so, he always says 'legs.' 'Limbs' is for public speech. So he says."

"The more I know about the Captain, the more I like him. You have gorgeous legs. And green garters."

"Of course they're green. When I was a little girl, I wore green hair ribbons. I'm too old for hair ribbons, but if there is the teeniest possibility that my curls will be seen, I wear green garters. I have many pairs; Brian gives them to me. Some with naughty mottoes on them."

"Are there mottoes on these?"

"'Little pitchers,' Theodore. Let's get Woodrow settled down in the back seat."

It seemed to Lazarus that "little pitchers" could not be listening; the child was limp as a rag doll. Nor did he wake when he was bedded down; he curled into fetal position, and his mother put the robe over him.

Lazarus handed her into the car, cranked it and joined her. "Straight home?"

She said thoughtfully, "There is plenty of gasoline; Brian Junior filled the tank this afternoon. I don't think Woodrow will wake."

"I know there's enough gasoline; I checked when I went out to meet Mr. Johnson's captain. Shall I find that walnut tree?"

"Oh, dear! Please don't tempt me. Woodrow might wake up and could climb over the back and get out, as easily as he climbed in and hid. He's not old enough to understand what we would be doing; nevertheless, I think his misunderstanding of it could upset him just as much. No, Theodore. What I meant is this: It's not late, it's just late for a little boy. While he sleeps we can ride around and talk for, oh, an hour. If you wish."

"We'll do that." He got rolling and added, "Maureen, although I want to take you back to that walnut tree, I think it's best that we don't. Best for you, I mean."

"But, darling! Why? Don't you think I want you?"

"I do think you want me. And God knows I want you. But despite your brave talk, I don't think you've ever done that. You would want to confess to your husband and if you did, it would make you both unhappy-and I don't want to make Captain Smith unhappy either; he's a good sort. Or maybe you could keep it to yourself-but it would prey on your mind. Because, while you love me-a little-you love him a great deal more and I am sure of that. So it's best. Isn't that so?"

Mrs. Smith was silent a long moment. Then she said, "Theodore, take me straight to that walnut tree."

"No."

"Why not, dear? I must show you that I do love you and that I am not afraid to let you have me."

"Maureen, you would do it; you have the courage to do anything. But you would be tense and worried, afraid that Woodie would wake up. And you do love Brian. All the sweetly intimate things you've told me kept saying that."

"But don't you think my heart is big enough for both of you?"

"I'm certain it is. You love ten people that I know of; I'm sure you can squeeze in one more. But I love you and do not want you to do anything that would make a wall between you and your husband. Or hurt you both through your trying to tear down that wall by confessing. Beloved, I want your love even more than I want your dear, sweet body."

Again she was silent before speaking: "Theodore, I must tell you things about my husband and me. Private things."

"You shouldn't."

"I should and I must-and I shall. But- Please, will you touch me while I talk? Don't say anything, just touch me closely and intimately and nakedly...while I strip myself naked with words. Please?"

Lazarus put his free hand on her thigh. She pulled up her skirts, opened her thighs, pushed his hand more firmly to her. Then she covered his hand with her skirt, and spoke in an even, steady voice: "Theodore beloved, I love Brian and Brian loves me and he knows exactly what I am. I could keep a secret forever to keep from hurting him, and he would do the same for me. I must tell you what he said to me before he went away to Plattsburg-and I must use 'bedroom words,' Theodore; polite words don't have the force it must have.

"The night before he left we were in bed and had just had each other, me still wrapped around him like a curling iron and him still deep inside me. 'Swivel Hips,' he said-a pet name he calls me in bed-'I didn't sell the Reo to tie you down. If you want to drive, buy a Ford; it's easier to learn on.' I told him I didn't want to drive; I would wait until he came home. He answered, 'All right, Hot Bottom'-and that's a pet name, too, and Brian means it most lovingly-'All right, Hot Bottom, but buy one if you wish; you may need a car while I'm gone.

"'But a car is a minor matter. Your father will be here and that's good-but don't let him boss you. He'll try, he can't help it, it's his nature. But you are as strong-willed as he is; stand up to him, he'll respect you for it.

"'Now to more important matters, Pretty Tits'-and I like that name, too, Theodore, even though they're not and don't stop me to say they are-'Pretty Tits, I may not have gotten you pregnant; you don't usually catch again this soon. If not, once I'm back from Plattsburg, we'll keep on trying'-and we did, Theodore, and I caught, as I told you.

"Brian went on, 'We both know we're going to get into this war or I wouldn't be going to Plattsburg. It may last a long time-that "million men springing to arms overnight" is hogwash. When we do, I'll be gone again, and you'll be lonely-and we both know what a firecracker you are. I'm not telling you to jump the fence again'-I said 'again,' Theodore!-'but if you do, I expect you to do it on purpose, eyes open and not to regret it afterwards. I have enormous respect for your taste and judgment; I know you won't cause a scandal or upset the children.'"

She paused, then went on: "Brian knows me, Theodore-I really am a firecracker, and I've never understood why some women don't like it. My own mother- Nine children and she told me on my wedding day that it was something women had to put up with for the privilege of having babies."

Mrs. Smith snorted. "'Put up 'with!' Theodore, I was not a virgin when Brian first had me. Nor had I let him think so; I told him the truth the day I met him and two minutes after he took my bloomers off he knew it through having me. Theodore, I broke my maidenhead three years before I met Brian-on purpose; I've never been a flirt-and told, not my mother, but my father, because I trusted him; we've always been close. Father didn't scold me, didn't even tell me not to do it again. He said he knew that I would do it again but hoped that I would take his advice and let him keep me out of trouble-and I have and it did.

"But that first time, when I came to him, scared and ready to cry-it had hurt, Theodore, and wasn't the thrill I had expected-that time Father just sighed and locked the door and had me get on his surgery table and examined me and assured me that I hadn't been damaged-and I felt much better!- and told me that I was as healthy a woman as he had ever examined and would have babies with no trouble-and that made me feel smug-and Father was right; I have babies easily and don't yell-or not much. Not the way Mother used to.

"After that, Father examined me from time to time. Doctors don't ordinarily treat their female relatives, not for female things. But Father was the only doctor I dared tell. So Father helped me with my problems and got me all over any shyness about being looked at there or anywhere. Not that I was ever too shy; he told me that sort of modesty was dadratted nonsense-when Mother was telling me the exact opposite. I believed him, didn't believe her.

"But I was telling you what Brian said to me in bed that night. Brian added, 'I want you to promise one thing, Pussycat. If you find that you haven't kept your legs crossed, will you keep it to yourself until this war is over? I will do the same if I have something to confess-and I might! Let's not worry each other more than we have to until the Kaiser is taken care of. Then when I come home, I'll take you to the Ozarks-leave the children home with someone; just us two- and. you won't see anything but the ceiling while we get caught up, and also catch up on anything we need to talk about. Is it a bargain, my darling?'

"I promised, Theodore. I didn't promise not to jump the fence; he wouldn't let me promise that. I promised to be careful-and to save any confessing until the war was won. I wanted to promise that much because he might not come back!"

Her voice had been steady up to the last. Then it broke, and he realized that she was crying. He started to remove his hand and to pull over to the side of the road. Mrs. Smith grabbed his hand, pushed it more firmly back between her thighs, and said, "No, no, do touch me and don't stop the car! Or I might rape you. I don't know why it makes me so passionate when I let myself remember that Brian might not come back from the war. But it does. I've been that way ever since the day we declared war...and always have to look serene and calm and unworried. For the children. For Brian. I haven't let Brian see me cry, Theodore. You have just now- I suddenly could not help it. But I would rather you told Brian that I tried to seduce you than have you tell him that I cried through fear that he might not come back!

"And now I'll stop it." Mrs. Smith took a kerchief from her purse, wiped her eyes, blew her nose. "Don't take me home yet; the children must not see me with my eyes red."

Lazarus decided to break cover. "I love you, Maureen."

"I love you, Theodore. In spite of my tears, you have made me happy. By letting me unburden myself-and I should not have; you are going to war, too. I feel almost married to you now, by telling you things I haven't been able to talk about with anyone else. If you had put me on the grass and had me-it would have been sweet and just what I planned. But this is even closer. And sweeter. A woman can open-her body to a man without opening her mind. I had two babies by Brian before I learned to open my mind to him the way I have to you tonight."

"Perhaps our minds are much alike, Maureen. Your father thinks we are cousins."

"No, he doesn't, darling; he thinks you're my half brother."

"Did he say that?"

"And I think so, too. By things Father did not say, dear Theodore. By how broken up he was when he misunderstood you about your intention to enlist. By the way he insisted that we must claim a service star for you. I feel sure he is right...and I want to believe it. Yes, that makes what I tried to do to you dreadfully sinful in some people's eyes, Incest. I did not care a whit. Since I'm pregnant, it could not possibly cause harm to a baby and that's the only thing that could make incest wrong."

(How to tell her? How much to tell her? But I must make her believe me.) "Your church would call it sinful."

"I don't give a fig for the church! Theodore, I'm not devout; I'm a freethinker, like Father. Church is a good atmosphere for children-and gives me a proper appearance as a respectable wife and mother-that's all! 'Sin' would not stop me; I don't believe in sin the way the church means it. Sex isn't sin, sex is never sin. What would stop me would he a chance of getting pregnant by someone other than Brian-but I am pregnant. That you ere my half brother didn't cause me a moment's fret; it just made me more anxious to tell you a warrior's good-bye."

"Maureen, I'm not your half brother."

"Are you sure? Even if you're not, you are still my warrior-I was as proud as Father when you volunteered."

"I'm your warrior, be sure of that. But I need to know something. This man Nancy may marry- Is he a Howard?"

"What did you say?"

"Is he on the approved list of the Ira Howard Foundation?"

He heard her catch her breath. "Where did you hear of the Foundation?"

'"Life is short-'"

"'But the years are long,' " she answered.

" 'Not "While the Evil Days Come Not."'"

"Goodness! I- I think I'm going to cry again!"

"Stop it. What is the young man's name?"

"Jonathan Weatheral."

"-of the Weatheral-Sperling line. Yes, I remember. Maureen, I am not 'Ted Bronson.' I am Lazarus Long of the Johnson Family. Your family. I am descended from you."

For several moments she seemed not to breathe. Then she said softly, "I think I am losing my mind."

"No, my gallant love, you have as strong and sane a mind as I have ever met. Let me explain because I must tell you something and you must believe me. Have you read a novel by Mr. Herbert George Wells called The Time Machine?"

"Why, yes. Father has a copy."

"That's me, Maureen. Captain Lazarus Long, Time Traveler."

"But that book- I thought it was just a...a-"

"Just a story. It is. But it won't stay that way. Oh, not quite the way Mr. Wells visualized it. But that's what I am, a visitor from a future time. I didn't intend to let anyone suspect this; that's why I claimed to be a foundling. Not only is it hard to prove, but any attempt would interfere with my purpose which is simply to visit this time and observe it. Might even get me locked up as crazy. So I've been careful to keep my mask on, as careful as-well, as you are. In talking to those Simpsons. In not letting your children see you cry. You and I do it the same way. Audacity...plus never telling lies we can be caught in."

"Theodore, I think you believe this."

"Meaning that I sound sincere but must be crazy."

"No, no, dear, I- Yes, that's what I meant. I'm sorry."

"No reason to be sorry; it does sound crazy. But I'm not afraid that you will have me sent to St. Joe; I'm as safe with you as you are with me. But I must find some way to convince you that I am telling the truth...because I am about to tell you something you must believe. Or I have dropped my mask to no point."

He stopped to think. How to prove it? Some prediction? It would have to be very short range to serve the only purpose he had in breaking cover. But he hadn't briefed himself on this year; he hadn't intended to arrive until 1919 and knew so little about the years before 1919 that he had even mixed up the date that the United States got into this war. Lazarus, damn your sloppy ways, the next time you make a time trip you're going to memorize everything about the era that Athene can give you-and a wide margin on both sides!

Woodie's memories were no help; Lazarus did not even recall having been taken to Electric Park by a sergeant in uniform. Self-centered brat! Electric Park he remembered; Woodie Smith had gone there many times. But no visit stood out in his mind.

"Maureen, maybe you can think of some way I can prove to you that I'm from the future-something that will convince you. But this is why I had to tell you: Brian-your husband, my ancestor-will come back unharmed. He's going to go through battles. Shells will fall around him, shots will whistle past his ears-but none will touch him."

Mrs. Smith gasped. Then she said slowly, "Theodore how do you know?"

"Because you two are my ancestors. I couldn't memorize the Foundation's records on all the Howards of today but I did study the files on my own ancestors, ones I might have a chance to meet. You. Brian. Brian's parents in Cincinnati. And I figured out that Brian must have met you because he had attended Rolla, then found you on a Missouri list of eligibles-not the Ohio list-that the Foundation gave him. That's certainly something I didn't learn from you or Brian or Ira, and your children probably don't know it. Well, perhaps Nancy does; she's filled out her own questionnaire. Hasn't she?"

"Why, yes, months ago. Then it is true, Theodore. Or should I call you 'Lazarus'?"

"Call me anything you like, darling. But I still haven't proved anything. Just that I have had access to the Foundation's files-which might have been last year, not in the future. We're still looking for proof. Mmm...I know a proof for a few months from now-but I must make you believe me tonight. So you will have no more tears on your pillow. And I don't know how."

He caressed her thighs, touched her curls. "Here inside you is proof that won't show up in time. This last baby Brian put into your sweet belly- He's a boy, dearest ancestress, and you and Brian will name him 'Theodore Ira'-which flatters me enormously. When I read his name in the records, I didn't know that he was my namesake, as I hadn't picked my assumed name then."

She squeezed his hand with her thighs and sighed. "I want to believe you. But suppose Brian wants to name him Joseph? Or Josephine?"

"'Josephine' is not a name for a boy. Darling, Brian will name his war baby for the other two stars on your service flag; this war means a lot to him. He'll probably suggest it himself-I don't know. I just know that 'Theodore Ira' is the name you will register with the Foundation. My other ancestors- Adele Johnson, of course, your mother and Ira's wife. Lives in St. Louis. Left him around the time you got married but didn't divorce him-which probably irked him; I don't think Ira is a man to be celibate simply because his wife leaves but Won't turn him loose."

"He's not, dear. I'm certain Father has a-well, a mistress, and goes to see her some nights when he is supposed to be at that 'chess club'-and it's not a chess club; it's a pool hall. I go along with the pretense because he calls it that in front of the children."

"He does play chess there."

"Father plays a fine game of billiards, too. Go ahead, darling-Lazarus. I'm willing to believe. Maybe we'll find something."

"Well, I don't think I'll look up your mother; I don't think I would get along with a woman who thinks sex is something to 'put up with.'"

"I got along with Mother only by lying to her. Father reared me far more than she did. I was his favorite. He let it show, which is why I'm careful not to let it show with Wood-row. Go on, Theodore. Lazarus."

"That's all of my ancestors you are related to. Except one. Our stowaway. Maureen, I'm descended from you and Brian through Woodie."

She gasped. "Really? Oh, I hope it's true!"

"True as taxes, beloved. And it may have saved his life. I've never been closer to infanticide than I was when we found him in the back seat."

She giggled. "Darling, I felt the same way. But I won't let anger show in my voice even if I'm about to switch a child."

"I hope I didn't show anger. But I felt it. Beloved, I was so hard I ached-until we found Woodrow. Honey love, I was rarin' to go!"

"And I was just as ready! Oh, Theodore-Lazarus-it's so sweet to be open with you. Uh...yes, you're quite hard now."

"Easy there!-don't make me climb the curb. I have been ever since we left the house except when I forced it down. But the one Woodie ruined was bigger and better."

"Size isn't important, Theodore-Lazarus; a woman must fit any size. Father told me that long ago and taught me exercises for it-and I never told Brian; I let him think that was simply how I am-and accepted his compliments smugly. I still exercise regularly-because my birth canal has been stretched again and again and again by babies' skulls and if I didn't exercise those muscles I would be, in Father's salty language, 'loose as a goose.' And I do so want to stay desirable to Brian as many years as possible."

"And to the iceman and the milkman and the postman- and the boy who drives the grocery wagon."

"Tease. I'd like to stay young there till I die."

"You will, you eighteen-year-old prospective grandmother. Let's get our minds off sex and back to time travel; I'm still looking for a proof. So that you will know why I am certain that Brian came back okay. But to stop your worry it must be something that happens soon and certainly before Woodie's birthday."

"Why Woodrow's birthday?"

"Didn't I get that far? This war ends on Woodie's next birthday, the eleventh of November." He added, "I'm certain of that, it's a key date in history. But I'm racking my brain for some event between now and then-as soon as possible, to stop your worries. But-oh, shucks, dear, I made a silly mistake. I meant to arrive after this war is over. But I gave my computer one critical figure with an error in it-just a little one, but it made me arrive three years too soon. Not her fault; she accepts any data I give her, and she's as accurate a computer as ever conned a ship. Not a fatal error, either; I'm not lost in time, my ship will pick me up in 1926 exactly ten Earth years after she dropped me. But that's why I didn't study the history of the next few months; I expected to skip this war. I'm not studying Wars; histories are full of wars. I'm studying how people live."

"Theodore...I'm confused."

"I'm sorry, darling. Time travel is confusing."

"You speak of a computer, and I'm not sure what you mean...and you said 'she' conns-whatever that means-a ship that will pick you up...in 1926? And I don't understand any of it."

Lazarus sighed. "That's why I never intended to tell anyone. But I had to tell you-so that you could stop worrying. My ship is a spaceship-like Jules Verne, only more so. A starship, I live on a planet a long way off. But it is a timeship, too; she travels in both space and time and it's too complicated to explain. The computer is the ship's brain-a machine, a very complex machine. My ship is named 'Dora' and the machine, the computer, that conns it-runs it-steers it-is called Dora, too; that's the name she answers to when I speak to her. She's a very intelligent machine and can talk. Oh, there is a crew, two of my sisters-so of course they are descended from you, too, and they look like you. A crew is necessary- can't let a ship go running around by itself-except automatic freighters on precalculated runs-but Dora does the hard work, and Laz and Lor-Lapis Lazuli Long and Lorelei Lee Long-tell Dora what to do and let her do it." He squeezed Mrs. Smith's thigh and grinned. "If that air blast bad kept your skirts up two seconds longer, I would know more about how closely they resemble you-as they usually run around naked. They look like you in the face. Bodies, too, from that too-short glimpse of your lovely legs. Except that Laz and Lor are freckled all over as solidly as Marie is on her face."

"I'd be that freckled if I didn't stay out of the sun. When I was Marie's age Father called me 'Turkey Egg.' But all over? They don't wear any clothes?"

"Oh, they enjoy fancy dress for parties. Or the weather might be cold-but it rarely is; we live in a climate like southern Italy. They don't wear anything very often." Lazarus smiled and caressed her thigh. "They don't need to leave their bloomers home to be ready for lovemaking; they don't own any bloomers. They aren't a bit shy. They would be delighted to trip your father; they like older men-they're much younger than I am."

"Lazarus...how old are you?"

Lazarus hesitated. "Maureen, I don't want to answer that. I'm older than I look; Ira Howard's experiment was successful. Instead let me tell you about my family. Your family, too; we all are descended from you by one line or another. Two of my wives and one of my co-husbands are descended both from Nancy and from Woodie."

"'Wives? Co-husband?'"

"Sweetheart, marriage takes many forms. Where I live you don't need a divorce or a death to gather in someone you love. I have four wives and three co-husbands-and my sisters, Laz and Lor...and they may marry out of the family or they may stay-and don't look startled; you said you didn't fret when you thought I was your half brother-and don't worry about harm to babies; they know far more about such things at that when-&-where-than they do in the here-&-now. We don't risk harm to babies.

"Of which we have plenty. And cats and dogs and anything a child can pet and take care of. It's a real family in a house to fit a big family.

"I can't tell you about each one; we've got to get our stowaway home. But I want to tell you about one-because you've been insisting that you don't look eighteen-merely because you've been using your breasts to feed babies. Tamara. Descended from you through Nancy and her Jonathan- Want to hear about Nancy's umpty-ump granddaughter? Tamara is about two hundred and fifty years old, I think-"

"Two hundred and fifty!"

"Yes. One of my co-husbands, Ira Weatheral, also from Nancy and Jonathan but from Woodie, too-and named for your father, not for Ira Howard-is over four hundred years old. Maureen, Ira Howard's experiment worked; we have longer life-spans-inherited from you and all our Howard ancestors-but also in that when-&-where they know how to rejuvenate a person. Tamara has had two rejuvenations-one recently and looks as young as you do. Real rejuvenation- Tamara was pregnant when I left.

"But how she looks is not important; Tamara is a healer- and I suspect she gets it from you."

"Theodore-Lazarus-again I don't understand. A healer? Like a faith healer?"

"No. If Tamara has a religious faith, she has never mentioned it. Tamara is calm and happy and serene, and anyone around her feels it so strongly-just as with you, darling!- that he or she is happy, too. If people are ill, they get well faster if Tamara touches them, or talks to them, or sleeps with them.

"But Tamara was not young when I met her. She was quite old and thinking about letting it go at that, dying of old age. But I was ill, very ill, sick in my soul-and Ishtar, later my wife and the topnotch rejuvenator in all the Milky Way, went out and fetched Tamara. Tamara. Little round potbelly, breasts that were really baggy, sags under her eyes, and her chin, all the old-age things.

"Tamara healed the sickness in my soul, just by being with me...and somehow this renewed her own interest in life, and she took another rejuvenation and is young again and has already added another baby to the Maureen-Nancy line and is pregnant still again. You and Tamara are so much alike, Maureen; she's just love with some skin around it- and so are you. But-" Lazarus paused and frowned.

"Maureen, I don't know how to convince you that I'm telling the truth. You'll know it when Woodie's sixth birthday comes around and they blow every whistle and ring every bell and the newsboys shout: 'Extra! Extra! Germany surrenders!' But that'll be too late to help you. I want to stop your worries now!"

"I've stopped worrying, dear one. It sounds wonderful and impossible...and I believe you."

"Do you? I've offered no proof; I've told you a tale impossible on the face of it."

"Nevertheless, I believe it. When Woodrow is six on the seventh of November-"

"No, the eleventh!"

"Yes, Lazarus. But how did you know that his birthday is the eleventh?"

"Why, you told me yourself."

"Dear, I said be was born in November; I did not say what day. Then I deliberately misstated it-and you corrected me at once."

"Well, maybe Ira told me. Or one of the children. Most likely Woodie himself."

"Woodrow does not know the date of his birthday. Wake him and ask him."

"I'd rather not wake him until we get home."

"What is my birthday, dear one?"

"The Fourth of July, 1882."

"What is Marie's birthday?"

"I think she is nine. I don't know the date."

"The other children?"

"I'm not sure."

"My father's birthday?"

"Maureen, is there some point to this? August second, 1852."

"Beloved Lazarus who calls himself 'Theodore,' I have a firm rule with my children. I keep each one from knowing the date of his birth as long as possible so that he won't advertise it and thereby blackmail people for presents. When one is old -enough for school and needs to know the date, he is old enough to be told why, and I make it bluntly plain that if he drops hints ahead of time-no birthday cake, no birthday party. I haven't had to use that penalty; they are all intelligent.

"Last year Woodrow was too young for it to be a problem; his birthday came as a surprise to him. He still does not know the exact date-so I strongly believe. Lazarus, you know the birthdays of your direct ancestors...because you looked them up in the Foundation records. Since you can't tell me the birthdays of my other children, I assume that I've found that proof."

"You know I have had access to the records. I could have looked up any birthday last year."

"Pooh. Why did you bother with the birth date of one child and skip the other seven? How would you know my father's birthday if he had not been of special interest to you? It won't wash, Beloved. You intended to seek out your ancestors and you came prepared for it. I no longer think that you showed up at our church by accident; you went there to find me- and I'm flattered. You probably did the same with Father- at his pool-hall 'chess club.' How did you do it? Private detectives? I doubt that our church or that pool hall can be looked up in the Foundation records."

"Something like that. Yes, gentle ancestress, I looked for an acceptable way to meet you. I would have spent years on it had it been necessary...because I couldn't twist your doorbell and say, 'Hi there! I'm descended from you. May I come in?' You would have called the police."

"I hope I would not have, darling-but thank you for finding a gentler way. Oh, Lazarus, I love you so!-and believe every word and I'm no longer worried -about Brian; I know he'll come back to me! Uh...I'm feeling very brazen again and more passionate than ever and I want to know something. About your family."

"I'm delighted to talk about them. I love them."

"I was most flattered to be compared with your wife Tamara. Darling, you don't have to tell me this: Does it ever happen that two husbands sleep with one wife?"

"Oh, certainly. But it's more likely to be one husband-Galahad-another of your descendants, Grandmother-Galahad and two of our wives; Galahad is the original tireless tomcat."

"That sounds like fun, but it's the other combination that intrigued me. Beloved, my idea of heaven would be to take both you and Brian to bed at once-and do my best to make you both happy. Not that I ever can. But I can dream about it...and will."

"Why not out in the woods and strip down for both of us, just to your 'French postcard' costume? As long as you're dreaming."

"Ooooh! Yes, I'll put that into my dream-and now I'm about to go off like a firecracker!"

"I'd better take you home."

"I think you had better. I'm terribly happy and quite unworried-and will stay so-and very passionate. For you. For Brian. For being a French postcard in the woods. In daylight."

"Maureen, if you can sell the idea to Brian...well, I'll be around until the second of August, l926."

"Well...we'll see. I want to!" She added, "Am I permitted to tell him? Who you are and where you're from-the future-and your prediction that he won't be hurt?"

"Maureen, tell anyone you wish. But you won't be believed."

She sighed. I suppose so. Besides, if Brian did believe it and thereby believed that he had a charmed life-it might make him careless. I'm proud that he is going to fight for us but I don't want him to take unnecessary risks."

"I think you're right, Maureen."

"Theodore...my mind has been so busy with all these strange things that I missed something. Now that I know who you are- This isn't your country, and it's not your war-so why did you volunteer?"

Lazarus hesitated, then told the truth: "I wanted you to be proud of me."

"Oh!"

"No, I don't belong here and it's not my war. But it's your war, Maureen. Others are fighting for other reasons-I'll be fighting for Maureen. Not 'to make the world safe for democracy-this war won't accomplish that, even though the Allies are going to win. For Maureen."

"Oh! Oh! I'm crying again-I can't help it."

"Stop it at once."

"Yes, my warrior. Lazarus? You will come back? You must have some way to know."

"Huh? Dear, don't worry about me. People have tried to kill me in all sorts of ways-I've outlived them all. I'm the wary old cat who always has a tree within reach."

"You didn't answer me."

He sighed. "Maureen, I know Brian will come home; it's in the Foundation's records. He will live to a ripe old age and don't ask how long as I won't answer. And so will you, and I won't answer that either; it is not good to know too much about the future. But me? I can't know my future. It is not in the records. How could it be? I haven't finished it yet. But I can tell you this: This is not my first war, but about the fifteenth. They didn't get me in the others, and they'll have to move fast to kill me in this one. Beloved, I am your warrior-but to kill Hun for you, not for them to kill me. I'll do my duty, but I'm not going to try some crazy stunt to win a medal- not old Lazarus."

"Then you don't know."

"No, I don't. But I promise you this: I won't stick my head up when I don't need to. I won't go into a German dugout without tossing a grenade in ahead of me. I won't assume that a German is dead because he appears to be-I'll make sure he's dead; I don't mind wasting a bullet on a corpse. Especially one who is playing 'possum. I'm an old soldier, and that's how one gets to be an old soldier-by being a pessimist. I know all the tricks. Darling, having quieted your worries about Brian, it would be silly to get you worried about me. Don't!"

She sighed. "I'll try not to. If you turn down this street, we can pick up Prospect, then across Linwood to Benton."

"I'll get you home. Let's talk about love, not war. Our girl Nancy-Is the Foundation now using a pregnancy rule? For first marriages?"

"Goodness! You do know all about it."

"No need to tell me. Nancy's business; If Jonathan does go to war-I don't know-I can assure you that he won't get his balls shot off, even if he loses an arm or a leg. I did look up the breeding records on all your children even though I didn't bother with their birthdays. Jonathan and Nancy are going to have many babies. Which means he comes back-or maybe gets turned down and won't go."

"That's comforting. How many babies?"

"Nosy little girl. You're going to have quite a number yet yourself, Grandmother, and I won't answer that, either. I withdraw the question about the pregnancy rule."

"Secret, Lazarus-"

"Better start calling me 'Theodore.' We'll be home soon."

"Yes, sir, Staff Sergeant Theodore Bronson, your lecherous old great-great-great-grandmother will be careful. How many 'greats' should there be in that?'

"Sweetheart, do you want that answered? If it had not been necessary in calm your fears about Brian, I would have stayed 'Ted Bronson.' I like being your 'Theodore.' I'm not sure that being a mysterious man from the future is going to be as comfortable. Especially if you think of me as some remote descendant. I'm here beside you, not in some far future."

"Beside me. Touching me. And yet you're not even born yet-are you? And in your time...I'm long dead. You even know when I will die. You said so. You just won't tell me when."

"Oh, confound it, Maureen; that's wrong all the way through! That's what comes of admitting that I've time-traveled. But I had to. For you."

"I'm sorry, Laz- Theodore my warrior. I won't ask any more questions."

"Sweetheart, the fact that I am here means that you're not dead. And I certainly was born; pinch me and find out. All 'flows' are real; that is the basic theorem of time travel. They don't disappear; both 'past' and 'future' are mathematical abstractions; the 'now' is always all there is. As for knowing the day you died-or will die; it's the same thing-I don't. I just know that you had-have-will have-many children, and you live a long time...and your hair never gets gray. But the Foundation lost track of you-will lose track of you-and your date of death never got into the records. Maybe you moved and didn't tell the Foundation. Shucks, maybe I came back-will come back-and picked you up in your old age, and took you to Tertius."

"Where?"

"My home. I think you would like it there. You could run around all day, dressed-undressed-as a French postcard."

"I'm sure I would like that now. But I don't think I would, as an old woman."

"All you would have to do is to ask Ishtar for rejuvenation. I told you what she did for Tamara...when her breasts hung down to her waist and were empty sacks. But look at Tamara now-that 'now'-pregnant again, just like a kid. But forget it-if it did happen, it will happen. Mama Maureen- I'm durned if I'll call you 'Grandmother' again-all I'm sure of is that I'm not sure of the date of your death, and I'm glad I'm not, and you should be. Nor of my death, and I'm glad of that, too. Carpe diem! We're almost home and you started to say something and I said to call me 'Theodore' and we got off the track. Was it about Tamara?"

"Oh, yes! Theodore? When you go home to wherever your home is, can you take anything with you? Or does it have to be just you?"

"Why, no. I arrived with clothes and money."

"I'd like to send a little present to Tamara. But I can't guess what she would want...from this time to that wonderful age of yours. Can you suggest something?"

"Mmm...Tamara would treasure anything from you. She knows she's descended from you, and she's the most warmly sentimental of all my family. It should be something small enough to carry on my person, even in the trenches, as I'm always ready to abandon anything I'm not carrying- have to be. Not jewelry. Tamara would not value a diamond bracelet one whit more than a hairpin...but she would treasure a hairpin that I could tell her I had seen you wearing. Something small, somethillg you've worn. Look, send her a garter! Perfect! One of these you have on."

"Mayn't I send her a brand-new pair? Oh, I'll slip them on for a moment, so that you can tell her truthfully that I've worn them. But these- Not only are they rather old and worn but I've perspired right through them tonight. They're not fresh and clean. And they do have naughty mottoes on them."

"No, no, one of these. Sweetheart, 'naughty' today can't be naughty on Tertius; I'll have to explain any naughtiness to Tamara. As for perspiration, I hope that some trace of your sweet fragrance clings to them until I can get them to her; that would delight Tamara. You say this pair is old? Maureen, by any chance are they about six years old?"

"I told you I was sentimental, Theodore. Yes, this is the same pair. Old and faded and worn and I've replaced the elastic-but the same pair; I picked them to wear for you."

"Then I want one of them for me!"

"Beloved Theodore. I planned to offer you both of them. That's why I suggested a new pair for Tamara. Very well, dear, one for you, one for her. As soon as we're home. I'll trot upstairs, and when I come down, I'll have a present for you and will tell you not to open it until you're back at Camp Funston. You just say thank you and go straight to your room and put it into your grip. I see a light on the front porch, so now I must push my skirts down and be the prim and proper Mrs. Brian Smith. With a smoldering volcano inside her! Thank you, Staff Sergeant Bronson. You have given my son and me a most enjoyable evening."

"Thank you, pretty little pussycat in green garters and no bloomers. Will you grab the Teddy bear and the Kewpie doll while I carry our chaperon?"

Ira Johnson and Nancy were not yet home. Brian Junior relieved Lazarus of the limp child and carried him upstairs. Carol went along to put Woodie to bed after exacting a promise from "Uncle Ted" not to go to bed before she came back. George wanted to know where they had gone and what they had done, but Lazarus put him off with a promise and used the chance to repair to his tiny bath and repair himself.

Hair a bit mussed- Thank God respectable women did not use lipstick. Uniform slightly wrinkled, nothing damning about that. Five minutes later, refreshed and certain there were no feathers on his chin, Lazarus returned to the front of the house and offered George and Brian Junior an account of the evening truthful in everything he said.

He had just started when Carol came down and listened too; then Mrs. Smith rejoined them, moving regally as always and carrying a little package wrapped in tissue paper. "A surprise for you, Sergeant Theodore-please don't open it until you are back at camp."

"Then I had better put it into my grip right now."

"If you wish, sir. I think it's bedtime, dears."

"Yes, Mama," agreed Carol. "But Uncle Ted was telling us how you knocked down all the milk bottles."

"He says you should pitch for the Blues, Mama!" added George.

"All right, fifteen minutes."

"Mrs. Smith," said Lazarus, "you ought not to start your stopwatch on us until I get back."

"You're as bad as the rest of my children, Sergeant. Very well."

Lazarus put the package into his grip, locked it from long habit, and returned. Nancy and her young man arrived; Lazarus was introduced while looking over Jonathan Weatheral with real interest. Pleasant young fellow, a bit on the gawky side- Tamara and Ira will be interested, so let's photograph him by eye, be able to sketch him, and remember any word he says.

Mrs. Smith urged her prospective son-in-law into the parlor while cutting Nancy out of the herd; Lazarus resumed describing what they had done at the amusement park while Jonathan looked politely bored. Mrs. Smith returned, carrying a laden tray and said, "That fifteen minutes is up, dears. Jonathan, Nancy wants you to help her with something; will you see what it is? She's in the kitchen."

Brian Junior asked if he could put the car into the barn. "Sergeant Uncle Ted, I haven't let your car sit out at the curb at night, not once. But I'll get it out for you, first thing in the morning; it's kind o' tricky, sort of a 'Z' turn, you have to back and fill."

Lazarus thanked him, kissed Carol good-night, as she was clearly expecting it. George couldn't seem to make up his mind whether he had outgrown kissing or not, so Lazarus settled it by shaking hands and telling him he had quite a grip on him. At that point Mr. Johnson got home, and the good-nights started over.

Five minutes later Mrs. Smith, her father, and Lazarus were seated in the parlor over coffee and cake, and Lazarus was suddenly reminded of the first night he had been invited in. Save that the men were now in uniform the tableau was the same; each was seated in the spot he had been in that night, Mrs. Smith presided over the "company" coffee service with the same serene dignity; even the refreshments were the same. He looked for changes, could find only three: His elephant was not back of Mrs. Smith's chair, the prizes they had won at the amusement park were on a table near the door, and sheet music for "Hello, Central, Give Me No Man's Land" was open on the piano.

"You were late tonight, Father."

"Seven recruits, and I had just the usual sizes for them, too large and too small. Ted, we get what the Army doesn't want. Proper, of course. We now have Lewis guns for the machine-gun companies and enough Springfields to go around; we are beginning to look less like Villa's bandits, I'm not complaining. Daughter, what are those things on that table? They look out of place."

"The Kewpie doll I won myself, so I'm thinking of giving it a place of honor on top of the piano. The Teddy Roosevelt bear was won by Sergeant Theodore; perhaps he's taking it to France with him. Electric Park, Father, and I don't think it cost Sergeant Theodore more than twice what the prizes are worth for us to win them; we had a lucky night- and a very gay one."

Lazarus could see the old man starting to cloud up-in public with a bachelor? With her husband away? So he spoke up: "I can't take it to France, Mrs. Smith; I made a deal with Woodie-don't you remember? My Teddy bear for his elephant. I assume it's a firm deal; he carried it from then on."

Mr. Johnson said, "If you didn't get it in writing, Ted, he'll homswoggle you. Do I understand that Woodie went to Electric Park with you two?"

"Yes, sir. Between ourselves I expect to leave the elephant in Woodie's custody for the duration. But I'm going to dicker with him first."

"He'll still hornswoggle you. Maureen, the idea was to give you relief from the children. Especially Woodie. What in Ned possessed you to take him along?"

"We didn't exactly take him along, Father; he was a stowaway." She gave her father an accurate account, save that she left out certain things and did not include a timetable.

Mr. Johnson shook his head and looked pleased. "That boy will go far-if they don't hang him first. Maureen, you should have spanked him and fetched him home. Then you and Ted should have gone on with your ride."

"Oh, fuss, Father, I did have my ride and a very nice one; I made Woodrow sit in the back seat and keep quiet. Then I had a gay time at the park, a bonus I would not have had if, Woodrow had not invited himself along."

"Woodie had some justice on his side," Lazarus admitted. "I did promise him an outing at Electric Park, then never kept my promise."

"Should have whacked him."

"It's too late for that, Father. And we did have fun. We ran into some people from church, too-Lauretta and Clyde Simpson."

"That old witch! She'll gossip about you, Maureen."

"I think not. We chatted while Woodie rode the miniature train. But you might remember that Sergeant Bronson is your eldest sister's son."

Ira Johnson raised his eyebrows, then chuckled. "Samantha would be surprised-if she were still with us. Ted, my eldest sister was thrown by a horse she was trying to break-at eighty-five. She lingered awhile, then turned her face to the wall and refused to eat. Very well, I'll remember. Ted, this is better than blaming my gay-dog brother and still harder to check on; Samantha lived in Illinois, wore out three husbands, and one of them could have been named Bronson for all anyone here would know. Do you mind? Gives you a family of sorts."

"I don't mind. Although I like to think of this family as my family."

"And we like to have you think of us that way, Son. Maureen, is our young lady home?"

"Just before you got home, Father. They are in the kitchen, on the excuse that she wanted to make a sandwich for Jonathan. Since I'm sure it's an excuse to stay out there and spoon, I suggest that, if you want something from the kitchen, you allow me to fetch it; I'll be noisy enough to let Nancy jump off his lap. Theodore, Nancy is engaged; we just haven't made a formal announcement. I think it's best to let them marry now, since he'll be joining the Army almost at once. What do you think?"

"I'm hardly entitled to an opinion, Mrs. Smith. I hope they will be happy."

"They will be," said Mr. Johnson. "He's a fine lad. I tried to sign him into the Seventh, but he insisted on waiting for his birthday so he could go straight into the Army. Even though he couldn't be drafted for another three years. Spirit. I like him. Ted, if you need to go to your room, you can go around this other way and avoid the kitchen."

A few minutes later the young people came out of the kitchen, made polite sounds without sitting down; then Nancy stepped out onto the porch to say good-night to her swain, came back in, and sat down.

Mr. Johnson smothered a yawn. "Time I hit the hay. You will too, Ted, if you're smart. Too noisy around here to sleep late, especially where your room is."

Nancy said quickly, "I'll keep the young ones quiet, Grandpa, so Uncle Ted can sleep."

Lazarus stood up. "Thank you, Nancy, but I didn't get much rest on the train last night; I think I'll go right to bed. Don't worry about keeping quiet in the morning; I'll wake up at reveille time anyhow. Habit."

Mrs. Smith stood up. "We'll all go to bed."

Mr. Johnson shook hands as he said good-night; Mrs. Smith gave Lazarus a symbolic peck on the cheek such as she had given him, on arrival, thanked him for a lovely evening, and urged him to turn over and go back to sleep if the reveille habit- wakened him; Nancy hung back and kissed him good-night as her elders started up the stairs.

Lazarus went to his room and on into his bath. Maureen had told him not to hesitate to draw a tub; it would not wake the children. He started one, went back and opened his grip, got out the little package, took it into the bath and threw the bolt, there being no key in the bedroom door. It was a small flat box such as garters might come in; he opened it carefully, intending to rewrap it exactly as it had been.

Ah, the garters! Faded, as she had said, and clearly not new...and-Yes!-redolent with her own evocative fragrance. Would it last long- enough for him to get it home, have the lovely, delicate aroma analyzed, amplified, and fixed? Probably-and with computer help a skilled scentologist could separate out the odors of satin 'and rubber, and amplify hers selectively. He would have to go to Secundus for such expert 'help. Worth the trip and then some!

Now let's see those "naughty" mottoes- One read: "Open All Hours-Ring Bell for Service!"-the other: "Welcbme! Come in and Stir the Fire." Sweet darling, those aren't "naughty."

A plain envelope under the garters- He laid them aside and opened it.

A plain white card: "Best I could do, Beloved. M." A photograph, amateur work but excellent quality for this here-k-now: Maureen herself, outdoors in bright sunlight against a background of thick bushes. She was standing gracefully, smiling and looking at the camera-dressed only in her "French postcard" style. Lazarus felt a burst of passion. Why, you generous, trusting darling! Not your only copy? No, Brian would have made more than one print- undoubtedly had one with him. This print would have been locked somewhere in your bedroom. Yes, your waist is slender without a corset...and those are not broken down; they are lovely-and I'm certain what caused your happy smile. Thank you, thank you!

With the photograph was a little flat package in tissue-paper. He opened it gently. A thick lock of red hair, tied with a green ribbon. The lock curled in a tight circle.

Lazarus stared at it. Maureen my beloved, this is the most precious gift of all-but I do hope you cut it so carefully that Brian won't notice it's missing.

He looked at each of her gifts again, restored them just as they had been, put the box into the bottom of his grip, locked it, turned off the tub, undressed, and got into the water.

But a lukewarm tub did not make him sleep. For a long time he lay in darkness and relived the past few hours.

He now felt that he understood Maureen. She was relaxed with what she was-"liked herself" as Lazarus thought of it- and liking yourself was the necessary first step toward 'loving other people. She had no guilt feelings because she never did anything that could make her feel guilty. She was unblinkingly honest with herself, was her own self-judge instead of looking to others, did not lie to herself-but lied to others without hesitation when needed for kindness or to get along with rules she had not made and did not respect.

Lazarus understood that; he lived the same way-and now knew where he got the trait. From Maureen...and through her, from' Gramp. And from Pop, too-reinforced. He felt very happy despite an unsatisfied ache in his loins. Or in part because of it, he corrected, he found that he cherished that ache.

When the doorknob turned, he was instantly alert, out of bed and waiting before the door opened.

She was in his arms, warm and fragrant

She pulled back to shrug off her wrap, let it fall, came back into his arms, body to body, and gave her mouth fully.

When they broke the kiss, she stayed in his ~arms, clinging. He whispered huskily, "Why did you risk it?"

She answered softly, "I found that I must. Once I knew that, I realized that it was even less risk than our walnut tree. The children never come downstairs at night when we have a guest. Father may suspect me...but that makes it certain that he won't check on me. Don't worry, darling. Take me to bed. Now!"

He did so.

When they were quiet, she sighed happily and said, lips against his ear, arms and legs around him: "Theodore, even in this you are so much like my husband that I can barely wait till the war is over to tell him all about you."

"You've decided to tell him?"

"Beloved Theodore, there was never a doubt that I would. I softened some of what I told you tonight and left out a little. Brian does not require me to confess. But it does not upset him; we settled that fifteen years ago. He convinced me that he really does trust my judgment and my taste." Very softly but merrily she giggled against his ear. "It's a shame that I so seldom have anything to confess; he enjoys hearing my adventures. He has me tell him about them over and over-like rereading a favorite book. I wish I could tell him this one tomorrow night. But I won't, I'll save it."

"He's coming home tomorrow?"

"Late. Quite late. Which is just as well, as I don't expect to get any sleep once he arrives." She chuckled softly. "He tild me on the telephone to 'b. i. b. a. w. y. L o.' and he would 'w. y. t. b. w.' That means: Be in bed asleep with my legs open and he will wake me the best way. But I just pretend to be asleep as I wake up no matter how quietly he tiptoes in."

She gave a tiny giggle. "Then we have a happy little game. As he enters me, I pretend to wake up and call him by name-but never his name. I moan, 'Oh, Albert, darling, I thought you would never come!' or some such. Then it's his turn. He says something like, 'This is Buffalo Bill, Mrs. O'Malley. Hush up and get busy!' Then I hush up and do the best I know how, not another word until we both explode."

"Your best is superb, Mrs. O'Malley. Or was that your best?"

"I tried to make it my best-Buffalo Bill. But I was so dreadfully excited that I got all blurry so it probably was not. I'd like a chance to do better. Are you going to give me one?"

"Only if you promise not to do better. Darling, if that was not your best, then your best would kill me."

"You not only talk like my husband and feel like him- especially here-but you even smell like him."

"You smell like Tamara."

"Do I really? Do I make love like her?"

(Tamara knows a thousand ways, darling, but rarely uses anything unusual-lovemaking is not technique, dear, it's an attitude. Wanting to make someone happy, which you do.

But you startled me with your command of technique; you would fetch a high price on Iskander.)

"You do. But that's not what makes you so much like her. Uh, it's your attitude. Tamara knows what is going on in another person's mind and gives him exactly what he needs. Wants to give it."

"She's a mindreader? Then I'm not like her, after all."

"No, she's not a mindreader. But she feels a person's emotions and knows what he needs an4 gives him that. It might not be sex. Aren't there times when Brian needs something else?"

"Oh, certainly. If he's tired and tense, I hold off and rub his back or head. Or cuddle with him. Maybe encourage him to nap, and then perhaps he really will wake me 'the best way.' I don't try to eat him alive. Unless that's what he wants."

"Tamara all over again. Maureen, when Tamara was healing me, at first she didn't even share a bed with me. Just slept in the same room and ate with me and listened if I felt like talking. Then for ten days or so she did sleep with me, but we just slept...and I slept soundly and had no nightmares. Then one night I woke up, and without a word Tamara took me into her, and we made love the rest of that night. And next morning I knew I was well-soul-sickness all gone.

"You are that way, Maureen. You know, and you do. I've been very homesick and much troubled by this war. Now I'm not, you've cured it. Tell me, what did you feel from me the first night I was in this house?"

"Loved you at first sight, like a silly schoolgirl. Wanted to take you to bed. I told you so."

"Not how you felt-how did I feel?"

"Oh. You had an erection over me."

"Yes, I did. But I thought I had concealed it. You noticed?"

"Oh, I didn't see a bulge in your trousers or anything like that. Theodore, I never look down that far; men become embarrassed so easily. I simply knew you felt as I did-and I felt like a she dog in heat. Bitch in heat, I mean-I don't intend to be prim in bed. The instant you met my eyes- standing, out in the front hall-I knew we needed each other and I grew terribly excited...and rushed out into the kitchen to get myself under control."

"You didn't rush, you moved with smooth grace, like a ship under sail."

"That ship was sailing fast; I was rushing. I got myself under control but not less excited. More. My breasts ached and my nipples hurt, all the time you were here. But that doesn't show. It would not have mattered had Father noticed my excitement except that he would not have invited you back-and I wanted you to come back. Father knows what I am; he told me so when he was helping me. He told me to face up to what I am and be happy with it-but that I must learn never to let my ruttiness show, things being the way they are. I've tried-but that night it was very hard not to show it."

"You succeeded."

"Brian tells me that I don't show it. But that night was so difficult. I- Theodore, there is something boys do-and sometimes men-when they're terribly frustrated. With their hands."

"Certainly. Masturbation. Boys call it 'jacking off."

"So Brian says. But perhaps you don't know that girls- and women-can do something like it?"

"I do know. For a lonely person of either sex, it's a harmless but inadequate substitute."

"'Harmless but inadequate-' Quite inadequate. But I'm glad you think it's harmless. Because I went upstairs and took a bath-I needed one although I had bathed before supper. And did it, in the tub. And went to bed and stared at the ceiling, then got up and locked the door and took off my nightgown-and did it and did it and did it! Thinking about you, Theodore, every instant. Your voice, how you smelled, the touch of your hand on mine. But it took at least an hour before I was relaxed enough to sleep."

(It took me even longer, dear, and I should have used your direct therapy. But I was punishing myself for being a fool. Off my trolley, dearest one, as I know it is never foolish to love. But I didn't see how we could ever show our love.) "I wish I could have been there, darling-because a mile or two away I was aching with it-thinking of you."

"Theodore, I hoped you felt that way. I needed you so and hoped that you needed me just as much. But the best I could do was lock my door and do that and think about you, with nobody around but Ethel in her crib and her too young to notice. Oops! I lost you. Oh, dear!"

"You haven't lost me, just that wee bit of proud flesh. Which will recover soon; you promised me a second chance. Change position? Shoulder pillow? Left, or right? I shouldn't have kept my weight on you so long, but I didn't want to move."

"I didn't want you to move as long as I 'could keep even a little of you in me. You aren't too heavy; my hips are broad, and you let a woman breathe, sir. Put me on either side, whichever you prefer."

"Like this?"

"That's comfy. Oh, Theodore, this doesn't feel like our first time; I feel as if I had loved you forever and you had come back to me at last."

(Let's get away from that subject, Mama Maureen.) "I'll go on loving you forever, my darling."

(Omitted)

"-told her bluntly that he would not marry her if she made any fuss over his joining the Army when he didn't have to."

"What did Nancy tell him?"

"She told him that she had been waiting to hear that, so now get her pregnant at once so they could have a few days' honeymoon before he joined up. Nancy feels as strongly about warriors as her mother does. She came into my bedroom that night and told me what she had done, slightly teary but not worried over having jumped the gun.

"So we cried happy tears, and I cleared the matter with Brian and the Weatherals, and Nancy missed her next period-this was a month ago-and the wedding may be day after tomorrow or perhaps the day after that."

(Omitted)

"Darling, I wish I could see you."

"Oh, dear! I'd rather not turn on the Mazda lamp, Theodore. These blinds are not so tight but what light would shine out, as well as light under the door if by any chance Father came downstairs."

"Maureen, I will never ask you to take any chance you don't like. I see you quite well with my fingertips-and these are not broken down."

"They flow off my ribs like melted marshmallows. Theodore, when you open that package, please be very careful that no one is around; there is more in it than a pair of garters."

"I did open it."

"Then you know what I look like."

"Was that beautiful girl you?"

"Tease. Brian had me look straight at his camera."

"But, darling, while you don't look down that far, men don't tend to look up very far. Especially me. Not when I'm looking at a photograph of a perfectly gorgeous nude model."

"'Nude model,' my best Sunday hat!"

"Maureen, it is the loveliest picture I' have ever owned and I will cherish it always."

"That's better and I don't believe it and I love hearing it. Did you open the paper folded in with it?"

"The baby curl? Did you clip it off Marie?"

"Theodore, I do not mind being teased; it just makes you more like Brian. But if he teases too much, I bite him. Anywhere. Here, for example."

"Hey, not so hard!"

"Then tell me where that curl came from."

"It came from your pretty, my pretty one, and I'll wear it over my heart forever. But one reason I wanted to look at you is that you clipped so generous a lock that I worried that Brian might notice something missing-and ask why."

"I can tell him I gave it to the iceman."

"He won't believe that and will be sure that you have a new adventure to confess."

"Then he won't press me to tell him now; he'll change the subject. Although I wish I could tell him now; I keep thinking about both of you, outdoors in daylight; that was the fantasy that kept me awake. Sweetheart, there is a 'candle on the dresser-electricity not being as dependable as the gas lights we used to have. It wouldn't throw enough light to worry me. You may look at me by candlelight all you wish and as you wish."

"Yes, darling! Matches where?"

"Let me go and I'll get up and light it; I can find both in the dark. Will I be allowed to look at you, too?"

"Sure. For contrast. 'Beauty and the Beast.'"

She giggled and kissed his ear. "Goat, maybe. Or a stallion. Theodore, I needed to be baby-stretched to accept you."

"I thought you said I felt like Brian?"

"But he is a stallion, too. Let me go."

"Pay toll."

"Oh, goodness, darling, don't do that now! Or I'll be so shaky I won't be able to strike a match."

Standing and by the light on one candle, they studied each other. Lazarus felt his breath grow short at the dazzling glory of her. For most of two years he had been deprived of the

sweet joy of seeing a woman, and had not realized how starved he had been for that great privilege. Darling, can you guess how much this means to me? Mama Maureen, has no one ever told 'you how much more sweetly beautiful a full-blown woman is than a maiden? Certainly your lovely breasts have held milk; that's what they're for. Why would I want them to look like marble?-I don't!

She studied him just as closely, her face solemn, her nipples crinkled tightly. Theodore-Lazarus my strange loves will you guess that I suggested candlelight so that I could see you? A woman is not supposed to get hungry for such things-but I miss the sight, the naked sight, of my husband...and how in the Name of Satan and all His Fallen Thrones I can last even till November without even seeing a man I do not know. Alma Bixby told me that she had never seen her husband without clothes. How can a woman live like that? Five children by a man she's never seen all over- Shocked her when I said that of course I had seen my husband naked!

Theodore-Lazarus, you don't look like my Briney Boy; your coloration is more like mine. But, oh, how you feel like him, smell like him, talk like him, love like him! Your pretty thing is coming up high again. Briney beloved, I'm going to have him once more, as hard as possible!-and I'll tell you about it tomorrow night if you'll just ask me for a new bedtime story...or if I must, I'll save it for you till you get back. You're as strange a man as he is...and just the wise and tolerant husband your bawdy wife needs. Then, cross my heart, dearest, I'll try my best to keep from it until you come back from Over There-but if I can't, even with Father and eight children to guard me, I promise you solemnly that I will never bed with anyone but a warrior, a man to be proud of in every way. Such as this strange man.

Lazarus, my love, are you really my descendant? I do believe that you know when the war will be over and that my Briney will come safely back to sue. Why, I am not sure-but since you told me, I have been free from worry for the first time in many a lonely moon. I hope the rest is true, too; I want to believe in Tamara, and that she is descended from me. But I don't want you to go away in only eight years!

That innocent little picture- If I had not feared shocking you, I would have given you some real "French postcards" Briney has taken of me. Will you be upset if I take a closer look? I'll chance it.

Mrs. Smith suddenly dropped to one knee, looked closely, then touched him. She looked up. "Now?"

"Yes!" He picked her up, placed her on the bed. Almost solemnly she helped him, then caught her breath as they joined. "Hard, Theodore! This time don't be gentle!"

"Yes, my beautiful one!"

When their happy violence was over, she lay quiet in his arms, not talking, communing through touch and the light of one candle.

At last she said, "I must go, Theodore. No, don't get up, just let me slide out." She got up, picked up her wrap, blew out the candle, came back, leaned down and kissed him. "Thank you, Theodore-for everything. But-come back to me, come back to me!"

"I will, I will!"

Quickly and silently she was gone.