To Sail Beyond The Sunset: The Life and Loves of Maureen Johnson

Chapter 21 - Serpent's Tooth

My problems for the next ten years were Princess Polly, Priscilla, Donald, George Strong... and a curious metaphysical problem I still don't know how to resolve - or how I should have resolved it, although I have talked it over in depth with my husband and friend Dr Jubal Harshaw and with some of the finest mathematico-manipulative cosmologists in any universe, starting with Elizabeth ‘Slipstick Libby' Long. It involves the age-old pseudo-paradox of free will and predestination.

Free will is a fact, while you are living it. And predestination is a fact, when you look at any sequence from outside.

But in World-as-Myth neither free will nor predestination have meaning. Each is semantically null. If we are simply patterns of fictions put together by fabulists, then one may as well speak of free will for pieces in a chess game. After the game is history and the chessmen have been placed back in the box, does the Black Queen lose sleep moaning, ‘Oh, I should never have taken that pawn!'

Ridiculous.

I am not an assemblage of fictions. I was not created by a fabulist. I am a human woman, daughter of human parents, and mother of seventeen boys and girls in my first life and mother of still more in my first rejuvenation. If I am controlled by destiny, then that destiny lies in my genes... not in the broodings of some near-sighted introvert hunched over a roboscriber.

Mie trouble was that there came a time as we neared the end of the decade that I realised that Theodore had told me about a tragedy that could possibly be prevented. Or could it? Could I use my free will to break the golden chains of predestination? Could I use my foreknowledge that something was going to happen to cause it not to happen?

Let's turn it upside down - If I keep something from happening, how could I have foreknowledge of something that never happened?

Don't try to sort that out; you'll bite your own tail.

Is it ever possible to avoid an appointment in Samarra?

I knew that the power satellite was going to blow up, killing everybody aboard. But in 1952 no one else knew that there would ever be a power satellite. In 1952 it was not even a blueprint.

What was my duty?

On Friday Dr Rumsey told me that Priscilla was not pregnant and that she was physically old enough to be bred and that he was willing to support a delayed birth certificate, if I wanted her to have one, showing an age anywhere from thirteen to nineteen... but that in his opinion she was childish in her attitudes.

I agreed. ‘But I may have to phoney an age of at least sixteen.'

‘I see. Her brother is screwing her, isn't he?'

I answered, ‘Is this room soundproofed?'

‘Yes. And so is my nurse. We've heard everything, dear, much of it a lot worse than a little brother sister incest. We had a case last week - not Howards, thank God - of "His brother is screwing him". Be glad your kids are normal. With brother-sister games all that is usually needed is to see to it that she doesn't get pregnant and that they get over it in time to marry somebody else. Which they almost always do. Haven't you run into this before?'

‘Yes. Before you took over your father's practice. Didn't he tell you?'

‘Are you kidding? Pop treats the Hippocratic Oath as handed down from on high. How did it work out?'

‘Okay in the long run, although it worried me at the time. Older sister taught younger brother and then younger brother taught still younger sister. I walked on eggs for a while, wondering whether to catch them or just to keep an eye out for trouble. But they never let it get intense; they just enjoyed it. My kids are a horny lot, all of them.'

‘And you aren't?'

‘Shall I take off my panties? Or shall we finish this discussion?'

‘I'm too tired. Go on.'

‘Sissy. Eventually they all took the Howard shilling, and now all three couples are friendly, with, I think, occasional Westchester weekends. But they keep such things out of my sight to keep from shocking poor old strait-laced Mama. But these two don't have that easy-going attitude. Jim, I've got to get that girl married.'

‘Maureen, Priscilla isn't ready to get married. The cure would be worse than the disease. You would ruin some man's life while spoiling hers, not to mention the damage to possible children. Hmm - Priscilla told me she had just moved here from Dallas. I don't know Marian. Hardy family - right? What sort of a person is Marian?'

‘Jim, I am not an unprejudiced witness.'

‘That from the woman who can always see the good side in the Devil himself tells me all I need to know. Well, Marian may have had good intentions but she did not do a good job on Priscilla. At least not good enough to risk letting her marry at fourteen, no matter how mature her pelvic measurements are. Maureen, I'll fake any age you say - but don't let her get married so young.'

‘I'll try, dear. I've got a tiger by the tail. Thank you.'

He kissed me goodbye. Shortly I said, ‘Stop that; you said you were too tired. And you've got a waiting-room full of patients.'

‘Sissy.'

‘Yup. Some other time, dear. Give my love to Velma. I want to get you both over for dinner next week to see my new house. Maybe then.'

Princess Polly took a while to accept the move. For two weeks I kept her indoors and using a sand box. Then I let her out. An hour later, not being able to find her, I drove slowly back the eight blocks to our old house. When I was almost there, I spotted her, parked quickly and called her. She stopped and listened, let me approach her, then scampered away, straight for her old home. No, her only home.

I watched in horror as she crossed diagonally at Meyer and Rockhill - two busy boulevards. She make it safely and I breathed again and went back for my car and drove to our old house, arriving as she did because I conformed to traffic rules while she did not. I let per sniff around inside an empty house for a few minutes, then picked per up and brought per home.

For the next ten days this was repeated once, and sometimes twice, a day. Then came a day - the day after Labor Day, I believe - when a wrecking crew arrived to clear the site. George had warned me, so that day I did not let per out. I took per there - let her go inside as usual and sniff around, then the crew arrived and started tearing the house down. Princess came running to me and I let per sit in my lap in the car, at the kerb.

She watched, while the Only Home was destroyed.

Aside from fixtures, which had been removed earlier, nothing was salvaged. So they tore down that fine old nineteenth-century frame structure in only a morning. Princess Polly watching, unbelieving. When the wreckers hitched bulldozers to the north wing and pulled it down, made it suddenly rubbish, she hid per face against me and moaned.

I drove us home. I did not like watching the death of that old house, either.

I took Polly back the next day. There was nothing but soil scraped bare and a basement hole where our home had been. Princess Polly would not get out of the car; I am not sure she recognised the site. She never ran away again. Sometimes gentlemen friends came to call on her, but she stayed home. I think that she forgot that she had ever lived anywhere else.

But I did not forget. Never go back to a house you once lived in - not if you loved it.

I wish that Priscilla's problems had been as easy to cope with as Polly's. It was Friday before I saw Dr Rumsey; Thursday we moved to our new house and any such move is exhausting, even though I used professional packers and handlers, not just their vans. It was simplified, too, by the fact that most of the furniture was not moved to our new house, but given to Good Will - I told both Good Will and the Salvation Army that a houseful of furniture, plus endless minor chattels, were to be donated to charity but they must send a truck. The Salvation Army wanted to come over and select what they wanted, but Good Will was not so fussy, so they got the plunder.

We kept only the books, some pictures, my desk and my files, clothing, some dishes and flatware, an IBM typewriter, and a few oddments. About eleven I sent Donald and Priscilla over to the new house with all salvaged food from pantry and freezer and refrigerator.

‘Donald, please come back for me after you unload. Priscilla, see what you can find for lunch; I think they will be loaded by noon. But don't fix anything for which timing is critical.'

‘Yes, Mother.' Those were almost the only words she spoke to me that morning. She had done whatever I told per to do but made no attempt to use initiative, whereas Donald tackled the job with imagination.

They drove away. Donald came back for me at noon, just as the crew-was breaking for lunch.

‘We'll have to wait,' I told him, ‘as they are not quite finished. What did you do with Princess?'

‘I shut her into my bathroom for now, with per sand box and food. She resents it.'

‘She'll just have to put up with it for a while. Donald, what is eating Priscilla? Last night and this morning she has been acting as if someone - me, I think - had broken her little red wagon.'

‘Aw, Mother, that's just the way she is. Doesn't mean anything.'

‘Donald, it's not the way she is going to be, not if she stays here. I will not cater to sullenness. I have tried to give all my sons and daughters a maximum of freedom consistent with civilised behaviour towards other people, especially towards their own family. But civilised behaviour is required of everyone at all times. This means politeness and a cheerful demeanour, even if simulated rather than felt. No one is ever exempt from these rules, no matter how old. Do you think you can influence her? If she's sulky, I am quite capable of telling her to leave the table... and I don't think she would like that.'

He laughed without mirth. I'm sure she wouldn't like it'

‘Well, perhaps you can put it over to her. Possibly she won't resent it from you.'

‘Uh, maybe.'

‘Donald, do you feel that there is anything I have said or done - or required of her, or of you - that she is justified in resenting?'

‘Uh... no.'

‘Be frank with me, son. This is a bad situation; it can't go on.'

‘Well... she never has liked to take orders.'

‘What orders have I given that she doesn't like?'

‘Well... she was pretty upset when you told her she couldn't come along and help decide which house we would take.'

‘That was not an order. I simply told her that it was my business, not hers: And so it is.'

‘Well, she didn't like it. And she didn't like being told that she had to be what she calls "poked at". You know.'

‘Yes, a pelvic examination. That was indeed an order. An order not subject to discussion. But tell me, what did you think of my requiring her to submit to a pelvic examination? Your opinion won't change my mind; I would just like to know what you think about it'

‘Uh, none of my business.'

‘Donald.'

‘Well... I guess girls have to have them. If her doctor is going to know whether she's healthy or not. Yeah, I suppose so. But she sure didn't like it.'

‘Yes, girls do have to have them for their own protection. I don't like them and never did and I've had them so many, many times that I couldn't begin to count. But it's just a nuisance, like getting your teeth cleaned. Necessary, so I put up with it... and Priscilla must put up with it too, and I won't take any nonsense out of her about it.' I sighed. ‘Try to make her see it. Donald, I'm going to drive you back and drop you, while they are still eating, and then I'll turn right around and hurry back, or something will wind up in the wrong truck.'

I got to the house about two, then supervised where things went while carrying a sandwich in my hand. It was after five by the time the van left and still later before the house was arranged - if you can call it arranged when the back yard was strewn with cardboard cartons and ‘clothes were dumped on beds and books were simply shoved into any bookcase to get them off the floor. Was it Poor Richard who said that ‘Two removes equal one fire'? Yet this was an easy move.

By eight I got some supper into them. We all were quiet Priscilla was still sullen.

After supper I had us all move into the family room for coffee - and a toast. I poured thimble glasses of Kahlua... because you can't get drunk on Kahlua; you'll get sick first. I held up a glass. ‘Here's to our new home, dears.'

I took a sip; so did Donald. Priscilla did not touch hers.

‘I don't drink,' she said flatly.

‘This is not a drink, dear; it is a ceremony. For a toast, if one does not wish to drink it, it is sufficient to lift the glass, say, "Hear, hear!" and touch the glass to your lips, put it down and smile. Remember that. It will serve you well at other times.'

‘Mother, it is time we had a serious talk.'

‘All right. Please do.'

‘Donald and I are not going to be able to live here.'

‘I'm sorry to hear that.'

‘I'm sorry, too. But it's the truth.'

‘When are you leaving?'

‘Don't you want to know why we are leaving? And where we are going?'

‘You will tell me if you wish to tell me.'

‘It's because we can't stand being treated like prisoners in a jail!'

I made no answer. The silence stretched out, until finally my daughter said, ‘Don't you want to know how you've been mistreating us?'

‘If you wish to tell me.'

‘Uh... Donnie, you tell her!'

‘No,' I objected, I'll hear from Donald any complaint he has about how I have treated him. But not about how I have treated you. You are right here, and I am your mother and the head of this house. If you have complaints, make them to me. Don't try to fob it off on your brother.'

‘That's it! Orders! Orders! Orders! Nothing but orders, all the time... like we were criminals in a prison!'

I recited to myself a mantra I learned in World War Two: Nil illegitimi carborundum. I said it three times, under my breath. ‘Priscilla, if that is what you mean by orders, nothing but orders, I can assure you that I won't change it. Any complaints you have I will listen to. But I won't listen to them second hand.'

‘Oh, Mother, you're impossible!'

‘Here is another order, young lady. Keep a civil tongue in your head. Donald, do you have any complaints about my treatment of you? You. Not your sister.'

‘Uh... no, Mama.'

‘Donnie!'

‘Priscilla, do you have any specific complaints? Anything but a general objection to taking orders?'

‘Mother, you - There is no point in trying to reason with you!'

‘You haven't tried reason as yet. I'm going to bed. If you leave before I get up, please leave your latch keys on the kitchen table. Goodnight.'

‘Goodnight, Mama,' Donald answered.

Priscilla said nothing.

Priscilla did not come down for breakfast.

‘She said to tell you she doesn't want any breakfast, Mama.'

‘Very well. Fried eggs and little sausages this morning. How do you want your eggs, Donald? Broken yolks and vulcanised? Or just chased through the kitchen?'

‘Uh, however you Nave yours, I guess. Mama, Priss doesn't really mean she doesn't want breakfast. Shall I go up and tell her that you said she has to come to breakfast?'

‘No. I usually have my eggs up and easy but not sloppy. Suits?'

‘Huh? Oh, sure! Please, Mama, can't I at least go up and tell her that you said breakfast is ready and she should come eat?'

‘No.'

‘Why not?'

‘Because I have not said that and I do not say it. The first child to try a hunger strike on me was your brother Woodrow. He lasted several hours but he cheated - he had stashed vanilla wafers under his pillow. When he finally gave up and came downstairs, I did not permit him to eat until dinner time, which was several hours away. He did not try it again.' (But he tried everything else, with lots of imagination!) ‘I don't coddle hunger strikers, Donald, or tantrums of any sort... and I think no government should. Coddle hunger strikers, I mean, or people who chain themselves to fences or lie down in front of vehicles. Grown-up tantrums. Donald, you have objected to my orders twice this morning. Or is it three times? Are you catching this from Priscilla? Don't you have it through your head yet that I do not give unnecessary orders, but those I do give, I expect to have carried out? Promptly and as given. If I tell you to go jump in the lake, I expect you to return wringing wet.'

He grinned at me. ‘Where is the nearest lake?'

‘What? Swope Park, I guess. Unless we count a water hazard at the golf club. Or a landscaping pond at Forest Hills. But I don't recommend disturbing either corpses or golfers.'

‘There's a difference?'

‘Oh, certainly, some at least. Donald, I don't mind that Priscilla chooses to skip breakfast this morning, as I need to talk with you without having her hanging over you and putting words in your mouth. When do you two plan to leave? And where do you plan to go, if you don't mind telling me?'

‘Shucks, Mama, that was never serious. How can we leave? No money, and no place to go. Except back to Aunt Marian and we won't do that. We'll never go near her again.'

‘Donald, just what is it you find so poisonous about Aunt Marian? Six years ago you both elected to stay with her when you could have come with me. What happened? Did she punish you endlessly? Or what?'

‘Oh, no! She hardly ever punishes anybody. Sometimes she would have Pop work us over. Like this last hooraw with Gus.'

‘What happened there? Gus is a year older than you are and bigger... or was the last time I saw him. You said, "He had her down and was giving her a bad time." How bad a time? Was he raping her? Or trying to?'

‘Uh... Mama, I'm in a prejudiced position. Jealous, I guess.'

‘So I would guess, too. Was it really rape? Or - What is it you young people call it today? They were "getting it on"?'

He sighed and looked hurt. ‘Yeah, they were. I - I got sore.'

I patted his hand. ‘Poor Donald! Dear, are you beginning to realise that you aren't doing yourself any good by falling in love with your sister? Or doing her any good? You are probably harming her even more than you are harming yourself. Do you see that, dear?'

‘But, Mama, I couldn't leave her there. Uh, I'm sorry we didn't come with you six years ago. But you were so strict and Aunt Marian wasn't, and - Oh, I'm sorry!'

‘How was Marian about housework? I am about to assign each of you your share of the work. But Priscilla seems to be clumsy in the kitchen. Yesterday she filled the freezer, dumping stuff in any which way, then didn't turn it on. I just happened to catch it or we could have lost the whole load. Did she take her turn at cooking along with Mildred and Sara and whoever is the right age now?'

‘I don't think so. No, I know she didn't. Granny Bearpaw does all the cooking... and doesn't like having anyone else in her kitchen.'

‘Who is Granny Bearpaw?'

‘Aunt Marian's cook. Black as coal and a hook nose. Half Negro, half Cherokee. And a swell cook! Always willing to fix you a bite. But you had better ask for it from the door. If you step inside, she's likely to wave a frying-pan at you.'

‘She sounds like quite a gal. And it sounds like I'm going to have to teach Priscilla to cook.'

Donald made no comment. I went on, ‘In the mean time we must get transcripts and get you two into the city school system. Donald, what would you think of going to Westport High instead of Southwest? Say yes and we might find you a jalopy, four wheels of some sort, so that it would not be too difficult. I really don't want you in the same school as Priscilla. She hasn't any judgement, dear; I'm afraid she would get into fights with other girls over you.'

‘Yeah, she might. But, Mama, I don't need to go to Westport.'

‘I think you do. For the reasons I named.'

‘I don't need to go to high school. I graduated in June.'

I had lived-with children all my life; they had never ceased to surprise me.

‘Donald, how did I miss this? I had you tagged for next year, and I don't recall receiving an announcement'

‘I didn't send out any... and, yeah, I was classed as a junior this past year. But I've got the required hours and then some, because I took summer session last year to make sure I got all the maths they offered. Mama, I figured on being ready to go either way... didn't decide to graduate until May, when it was too late for the year book and all that jazz. Mr Hardecker - he's the principal - wasn't pleased. But he did check my record and agreed that I had the option of graduating at the end of my junior year if I wanted to. But he suggested that he just arrange to issue my diploma quietly and I should not attend graduation or try to convince the class of'52 that I was in their class since I wasn't in their year book and didn't wear their class ring and all the rest I agreed. Then he helped me apply for the schools I was interested in. The really good technical schools, I mean, like MIT and Case and CalTech and Rensselaer. I want to build rocketships.'

‘You sound like your brother Woodrow:

‘Not quite. He flies ‘em; I want to design them.'

‘Have you heard from any of your applications?'

‘Two. Case and CalTech. Turned me down.'

‘There may be good news waiting for you in Dallas. I'll check with your father - I must call him today anyhow; I have yet to tell him that you two wanderers showed up here. Donald, if you are turned down this year for the schools you have applied to, don't lose hope.'

‘I won't. I'll apply next year.'

Not quite what I meant. You should go to school this year. Dear, it is not necessary to go to one of the world's top technical schools for your lower division courses. Any liberal arts college with high scholastic standards is okay for lower division. Such as Claremont. Or any of the so-called Little Ivy League. Or Grinnell College. Lots of others.'

‘But this is August, Mama. It's too late to apply anywhere.'

‘Not quite.' I thought hard. ‘Donald, I want you to let me promote you to eighteen; we'll start by getting you a Missouri driver's licence that shows that age for you, then we'll get you a delayed birth certificate when you need one. Not soon, unless you need a passport. Then you'll go to... Grinnell, I think'-one of the committee for my doctorate was now dean of admissions there and I had known him rather well-‘ for one or two years. Make up, your mind just which engineering school you want and we'll work on getting you into it next year or the year after... while you work hard for top grades. And -‘

‘Mama, what am I going to use for money?'

‘My dear son, I am ready to go to almost any expense to get you separated from your sister before you two get into real trouble. I won't pay for an abortion, but I will pay for your education over and above what you can earn yourself, working part time. Which you should do, for self-discipline and for your own self-respect. At Grinnell a male student can often wash dishes in a sorority house.'

I went on, ‘Those cornfed coeds are luscious; I've seen them. But you may not notice them too much as I want to submit your name to the Howard Foundation, and ask for the Iowa list of the youngest age group of girls.'

‘But, Mama, I'm not anxious to get married and I can't support a wife!'

‘You don't have to get married. But are you totally uninterested in meeting a select list of girls about your age, all of whom are healthy, all are long-lived - as you are - all desirable girls by all the usual criteria... and all of them guaranteed not to scream if you make a polite, respectful, but unmistakable pass at her? And won't get indignant - What kind of a girl do you think I am? - when it turns out you have a fishskin or a Rameses in your pocket.

Son, you do not have to do anything whatever about your Howard list. But if you get horny or lonely or both, shopping your Howard list surely beats hanging around bars or attending prayer meetings; all the preliminary work has been done for you. Because the Howard Foundation does indeed want Howards to marry Howards, and spends millions of dollars to that end.'

‘But, Mama, I can't possibly get married until I'm out of school. That's five years away, at least. I need an MS. A Ph.D. wouldn't hurt.'

‘You talked to your sister Susan yesterday. Did you wonder how Susan and Henry were able to go to college, straight from their wedding? Quit worrying, Donald. If you will just pick a college not too close to Kansas City, all your problems can be worked out. And your mother can quit worrying.'

Priscilla blew all her fuses when she learned that Donald was going to, go to school somewhere else. We kept her from knowing about it until the last minute; the day she registered at Southwest High was the day he left for Grinnell. Donald packed while his sister was at school, then waited until she got home to break the news. Then he left at once, driving a Chevrolet so old that it could not be used on a control road; it had no bug.

She threw a fit. She insisted that she was going with him. She made silly noises about suicide. ‘You're deserting me! I'll kill myself, I will! Then you'll be sorry you did this to me!'

Donald looked glum but he left. Priscilla went to bed. I ignored the fact. Threats of suicide are just another tantrum to me, blackmail to which I will not submit.

Besides, if a person wants to take his own life, it is (I think) his privilege. Also, if he is dead serious about it, no one can stop him.

(Yes, I am a cruel and heardess scoundrel. Stipulated. Now go play with your dolly somewhere else.)

Priscilla came downstairs about 10.0 p.m. and said that she was hungry. I told her that dinner was long over but that she could fix herself a sandwich and a glass of milk - which she did, and then joined me in the family room... and started in on recriminations.

I cut her short. ‘Priscilla, you will not sit there and call me names while eating my food. Stop one or the other.'

‘Mama, you're cruel!'

‘That counts as name calling.'

‘But - Oh, I'm so unhappy!'

That was self-evident and did not call for comment, it seemed to me, so I went back to watching Walter Cronkite and listening to his sonorous pronouncements.

She gloomed around for some days, then discovered the advantages of living close to school, of having a family room that was hers to use as she liked, and of a mother who permitted almost any racket and mess as long as it was cleaned up afterwards - or at least once or twice a week. The house started to be filled with young people. I found that as Priscilla became happy, so did I.

In late September I came downstairs one Friday night about eleven for a glass of milk and a midnight snack, and heard those give-away squeaks coming out of the maid's room across from the kitchen. I was not tempted to disturb them as I felt relief rather than worry, especially as the sound effects proved that Priscilla had learned to have orgasms as readily with another male as with her brother. But I went up and checked a calendar in my bathroom, one that duplicated the one in hers - and saw that it was a ‘safe' day for her and then felt nothing but relief. I never expected Priscilla to give up sex. Once they start and find they like it, they never quit. Or perhaps I should say that I would worry if one did.

The next day I called Jim Rumsey and asked him to take a smear and a blood test each time I sent Priscilla in, as I did not trust her judgement and knew she might be exposed.

He snorted. ‘Do you think I'm not on the ball? I check everybody. Even you, you old bag.'

‘Thanks, dear!' I threw him a kiss through the screen.

It was shortly after that cheerful occasion that George Strong called me.

‘Dear lady, I'm just back in town. I have good news.' He smiled shyly. ‘Delos agrees that you must be on the board. We can't put it to the stockholders until the annual meeting but an interim appointment can be made by the director if a vacancy occurs between stockholders' meetings. It so happens that one of my assistants is about to resign. As a director, not as my assistant. Could you attend a directors' meeting in Denver on Monday the sixth of October?'

‘Yes, indeed. I am enormously pleased, George.'

‘May I pick you up at ten? A company rocketplane will take us to Denver, arriving there at ten, mountain time. The directors' meeting is at ten thirty in the Harriman Building, followed by luncheon at the top of the same building - a private dining-room with a spectacular view.'

‘Delightful! George, are we returning later that day?'

‘We can if you wish, Maureen. But there are some beautiful drives around that area, and I have a car and a driver available. Does that appeal to you?'

‘It does indeed! George, be sure to fetch envelope number three.'

‘I will be sure to do so. Until Monday, then, dear lady.'

I moved around in a happy fog, wishing that I could tell my father about it - how little Maureen Johnson of Muddy Roads, Mizzourah, was about to be named a director of the Harriman empire, through an unlikely concatenation: first, an adulterous love affair with a stranger from the stars; second, because her husband left her for another woman; and third, an autumn affair between an immoral grass widow and a lonely bachelor.

If Brian had kept me, I could never have become a director in my own person. While Brian had not begrudged me any luxury once we were prosperous, aside from my household budget I had actually controlled only ‘egg money' - even that numbered Zurich bank account had only been nominally mine. Brian was a kind and generous husband... but he was not even remotely a proponent of equal rights for women.

Which was one reason I refused George Strong's repeated proposals of marriage. Although George was twenty years younger than I (a fact I never let him suspect), his values were rooted in the nineteenth century. As his mistress I could be his equal; were I to marry him, I would at once became his subordinate - a pampered subordinate, most likely... but subordinate.

Besides, it would be a dirty trick to play on a confirmed old bachelor. His proposals of marriages were gallant compliments, not serious offers of civil contract.

Besides, I had become a confirmed old bachelor myself - even though I found myself unexpectedly rearing one more child and a problem child at that.

My problem child - What to do about Priscilla while I was in Colorado overnight? Or possibly over two nights - if George suggested staying another day, at Estes Park, or Cripple Creek, would I say no?

Were I living alone with only Princess Polly to worry about, I could stuff her into a kennel and ignore her protests. Would that I could do so with a strapping big girl who outweighed me!... but who lacked sense enough to boil water.

What to do? What to do?

‘Priscilla, I am going to be away from home overnight, possibly two nights. What would you prefer to do while I am gone?'

She looked blank. ‘Why are you going away?'

‘Let's stick to the point. There are several possibilities. You can stay overnight or over two nights with a chum from school, if you like. Or you could stay with Aunt Velma -‘

‘She's not my aunt!'

‘True and you need not call her that. It is simply customary among Howards to use such terms among ourselves to remind us of our common membership in the Howard families. Suit yourself. Now please let's get back to the main question: what do you prefer to do while I'm away?'

‘Why do I have to do anything? I can stay right here. I know you think I can't cook... but I can rustle my grub for a couple of days without starving.'

‘I'm sure you can. Staying here was the next possibility that I was about to mention. I can find someone to come stay with you so that you won't have to be alone. Your sister Margaret, for example.'

‘Peggy's a pill!'

‘Priscilla, there is no excuse for your calling Margaret by a derogatory slang name. Is there someone you would like to have here to keep you company?'

‘I don't need any company. I don't need any help. Feed the cat and bring in the Star - what's hard about that?'

‘Have you stayed alone in a house before?'

‘Oh, sure, dozens of times!'

‘Really? What were the occasions?'

‘Oh, all sorts. Papa and Aunt Marian would take the whole family somewhere, and I would decide not to go. Family outings are a bore.'

‘Overnight trips?'

‘Sure. Or more. Nobody in the house but me and Granny Bearpaw.'

‘Oh. Mrs Bearpaw is live-in help?'

‘I just got through saying so.'

‘That isn't quite what you said and your manner is not as polite as it could be. Staying with Mrs Bearpaw in the house is not the same as staying alone... and I have gathered an impression that Granny with a frying-pan could intimidate an intruder.'

‘She wouldn't use a frying pan; she's got a shot-gun:

‘I see. But I can't get her to stay with you... and apparently you have never stayed alone before. Priscilla, I can arrange for a couple to stay here - strangers to you but reliable.'

‘Mother, why can't I simply stay here by myself? You act like I'm a child!'

‘Very well, dear, if that is what you prefer.' (But I'm not going to leave it entirely up to your good judgement. I'm going to hire the Argus Patrol to do more than cruise slowly past three times a night - I'll place the next thing to a stakeout on this house. I shan't leave you vulnerable to some night prowler just because you think you are grown up.)

‘That's what I prefer!'

‘Very well. Everyone has to learn adult responsibility at some time; I simply was reluctant to thrust it on you if you did not want it. I'll be leaving at ten o'clock Monday morning, the sixth, for Colorado -‘

‘Colorado! Why didn't you say so? Take me along!'

‘No, this is a business trip:

‘I won't be any trouble. Can I take the train up to the top of Pikes Peak?'

‘You aren't going; you're going to stay here and go to school.'

‘I think that's mean.'

I was gone two days and I had a wonderful time. Being a director was a bit dazzling the first time, but when it came time to vote, I simply voted the way George did, for the nonce - later I would have opinions.

At lunch Mr Harriman had me placed at his right. I didn't touch the wine and I noticed that he didn't, either. He had been all business at the meeting but was most charming at lunch - no business talk.

‘Mrs Johnson, Mr Strong tells me that you and I share an enthusiasm - space travel.'

‘Oh, yes!' We talked about nothing else then and were last to leave the table; the waiters were clearing it around us.

George and I spent the night at a guesthouse half way between Denver and Colorado Springs, on the inner road, not the highway. We discussed envelope number three in bed:

‘The Douglas-Martin Sunpower Screens will cause the greatest change in the American countryside since the first transcontinental railroad. Moving roadways will be built all over the country, powered by D-M screens. These will follow in general the network of Federal highways now in existence - Highway One down the East Coast, Route Sixty-Six from Chicago to LA, and so forth.

‘String cities will grow up along these moving roads and the big cities now in existence will stop growing and even lose population.

‘The moving roads will dominate the rest of the twentieth century. Eventually they will die out, like the railroads - but not until next century.'

‘Maureen,' George said soberly, ‘this is awfully hard to believe.'

I said nothing.

‘I don't see how they could be made to work.'

‘As a starter, try multiplying a thousand miles by two hundred yards, to get square yards, then call it horsepower. Use a ten per cent efficiency factor. Save the surplus power in Shipstones when the Sun is high and bright; use that surplus to keep the roads rolling when the Sun doesn't shine.' (I could be glib about it; I had done the arithmetic many times in thirty-four years.)

‘I'm not an engineer.'

‘Then discuss it with your best engineer - Mr Ferguson? when you get home.'

‘You stand by this?'

‘It's my prophecy. It won't happen quickly - the first roadcity - Cleveland to Cincinatti - won't roll for several years. I'm telling you now so that Harriman Industries can get in on the ground floor.'

‘I'll talk to Ferguson.'

‘Good. And now let me be nice to you because you have been so very nice to me.'

I returned on Wednesday and stopped at the office of Argus Patrol before I went Nome. I spoke to Colonel Frisby, the president of the company. I'm back; you can take the special watch off my home. Do you have a report for me?'

‘Yes, Mrs Johnson. Your house is still there, no fires, no burglars, no intruders, nothing but a noisy party on Monday night, and one not quite so noisy last night - kids will be kids. Your daughter did not go to school yesterday - slept in, we think; the party Monday night ran quite late. But she's at school today and looks none the worse. Shall we put this on your bill or do you want to pay for this special service now?'

I paid it and went home, feeling relieved.

I let myself in and sniffed; the place needed airing.

And a thorough house cleaning. But those were minor matters.

Priscilla got Nome a little after four, looking apprehensive, but smiled when I did. I ignored the mess the house was in, took her out to dinner, and told her about my trip. Some off it.

On Friday I picked her up at school and we went to Jim Rumsey's office, by appointment. Priscilla wanted to know why?

‘Dr Rumsey wanted to see you again after a couple of months. It has been just two months.'

‘Do I have to be poked?'

‘Probably.'

‘I won't!'

‘Say that again. Say it loud enough to be heard in Dallas. Because, if you mean that, then I'll have to bring your father into it. He still has legal custody of you. Now say it'

She shut up.

About an hour later Jim called me into his private office. ‘First, the good news. She doesn't have crabs. Now the bad news. She does have syphilis and clap:

I used a heartwarming expletive.

Jim tut-tutted. ‘Ladies don't talk that way.'

‘I'm not a lady. I'm an old bag with an incorrigible daughter. Have you told her?'

‘I always tell the parent first'

‘All right, let's tell her.'

‘Slow down. Maureen, I recommend putting her into a hospital. Not just for gonorrhoea and syphilis, but for what her emotional condition will be after we tell her. She's cocky at the moment, almost arrogant. I don't know what she'll be ten minutes from now.'

‘I'm in your hands, Jim.'

‘Let me call Bell Memorial, see if I can get an immediate admission.'