Movatterモバイル変換

Ginny stood anxiously in the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on thehem of her apron.

"You shouldn't upset the boy by yelling at him, Lester," she said. "Iknow you're worried, but...."

"He upsets me, doesn't he?" Lester said defensively. He sat in thelounge chair by the window, and the light from the reading lamp,slanting across his face, sketched in the lines of consternationwith dark shadows. "Just look at that class paper!" he exploded."'Excellent,' it says. That's four 'excellents' already this month!"

"I know," Ginny said quietly. "I saw it when he brought it home thisafternoon." Her blue eyes misted. "He was awfully proud."

"The worst comment he's ever had was a 'very good,'" Lester saidheedlessly. "If only he'd get a 'poor' once in a while—or even a'rotten.' But that's too much to hope for."

"Maybe it's not really as bad as it seems," Ginny said hopefully. "Hesaid himself that he's weak in spelling."

"Not weak enough for comfort," Lester said. "That little head of his isjust crammed with brains. Sometimes I look at it and all I can thinkof is a stuffed bell pepper!" Suddenly his grey eyes came alight withinspiration. "Maybe if we cut down on his food—They say in those adsthat if a child is properly undernourished he begins to get sluggishand...."

"Lester!" Ginny said, thoroughly shocked. "Of all things!"

For a moment they were silent, not quite looking at each other.

"Where did he go?" Ginny asked finally.

"Into his room," Lester sighed. "To study, no doubt."

Ginny nodded and moved toward the entrance to the hall. "I'd better seeif he's all right," she said. "You really shouldn't have yelled at him."

Lester watched broodingly as she left the room. For a moment his gazeremained darkly fixed, then moved back and down to the toes of hisshoes. He sighed again, and the lines of worry, as though of sheerexhaustion, relaxed.

In repose, Lester's face, an average specimen in the galloping runof the world's faces, was not unpleasant. It was a face that had beencome by honestly, if not spectacularly, in the thirty-one years of itsexistence. In total, Lester was a tolerable young man, though one hadthe feeling that if he played tennis and wore tennis shorts—neither ofwhich he did—he would prove a bit knobby in the knee and bowed in theleg.

As for Ginny, she was the completely average companion piece toLester's average man. Her hair was honey-colored, her features wereregular and her figure, though a trifle fleshier than the dented-fendertypes photographed for the magazines, was highly desirable.Together, Lester and Ginny were, in all but one respect, very nearlyindistinguishable from the millions of other like couples whopredominately inhabit the nation. The single thing that set them apartfrom the mob was a marked tendency to shatter like a couple of droppedcrystal goblets at the sight of an 'excellent' on their male child'sclass papers.

This oddness, this single curious distinction, however, was noindication of mere capriciousness. The root of the trouble was firmlyset in reality, and if its subsequent fruit appeared somewhat eccentricit was probably because those forces which had dropped the originalseed into the soil of Lester and Ginny's young lives had not madethemselves and their motives clearly understood. It is not, after all,uncommon for the human animal to fear that which it cannot understand,and so it was with Lester and Ginny.

It all started on the night that young Freddie was born. Preparationsfor the little newcomer's arrival (though it was not known then whetherit was to be Frederick or Frederica) had gone apace for several months,and the doctor and the hospital had been engaged well in advance.Ginny, according to custom, had been assiduously showered by herfriends with every gadget and garment that any manufacturer, domesticor foreign, had ever rendered in pink and/or blue. The stage was set,swept and lighted. The curtain rose.

It was exactly one minute past three A.M. when Lester raced forthe front door, fell over the overnight bag which had been placedstrategically in the path, picked himself up and hurried outside toback the Chevy coupe out of the garage and up to the porch. Leapingout, he hurried back into the house to help Ginny to the car and nearlycollided with her in the doorway.

"It's all right, Gin!" he said excitedly. "It's all going to be allright!"

"I know, dear," Ginny said uncertainly and, picking up the felled bag,carried it swiftly past him to the car. "Don't forget to lock the door."

"Now, don't worry, honey," Lester said as he climbed into the carbeside her, "just don't think about it." He started the engine andbegan backing toward the street. "Just think how nice it's going to beto have a baby all our own."

Ginny put a hand to his sleeve. "I love you, Lester," she murmured, andlet it go at that.

It was approximately at this point in the proceedings that certaincelestial complications began to set in. As Lester and Ginny spedtoward the hospital, their heads filled with the approaching disasterof parenthood, they were totally unaware of a distant moiling andbroiling in the night-darkened heavens above them. Humanly earthboundas they were, their thinking was characteristically horizontal. Itwould never in a million years have occurred to them that their realtrouble lay, not ahead of them, but above them.

High in those dim and timeless reaches of space without measurewhere the fate of mortal man is weighed and judged according to theindividual, a storm of unique and dismaying design was at the moment ofits inception. Like many another event of eventual magnitude it beganwith deceptive insignificance. It was merely that Mac, that kindly andsomewhat addled angel, in tallying the lists on the tabulation sheets,had come on the knowledge that the very next baby, the one due for thefour A.M. shipment, would be the million quadrillionth baby born onEarth since the beginning of the human race. It was a fact from whichMac seemed to derive a certain surprised pleasure. Brushing aside anintervening cloud vapor, he turned to Haywood Veere, his heavenlycoworker, and grinned importantly.

"Right on the nose, Haywood!" he announced loudly. "The millionquadrillionth baby. What do you think of that?" He twitched his wingshappily. "Makes you feel kind of important, don't it?"

Haywood remained studiously bent over his dispatch sheets. "I fail tosee why," he said with characteristic dryness. "We can hardly lookon the event as any sort of personal accomplishment. It took all ofhumanity all this while to bring it about."

"But I'm the one that marked it down," Mac said. "And it's you who'smakin' out the papers on him. Probably nobody knows about it exceptus."

"It's probably just as well," Haywood murmured.

"But it's kind of like an anniversary," Mac insisted. "Don't you see?"A grin of reminiscence came over his homely face. "Besides, I done mypart, I guess, when I was a mortal. I had a couple of kids—even ifthey did both wind up in the pokey."

At this Haywood glanced up from the cloud bank upon which were spreadthe papers. He turned around slowly, holding his wings back with onehand so that they would not get smudged with ink. He regarded Macreflectively.

"I suppose that's true," he said. "If you want to look at it that waywe can all take a bit of the credit. Even I can."

Mac's eyes widened with surprise. "But you was never married," he said."If you had kids then they was...."

"I didn't," Haywood put in quickly. "But it still works out. If youhadn't fathered your children and I hadn't—refrained, so to speak,this particular baby wouldn't be the million quadrillionth baby at all.It's curious the way it all works out."

"Sure it is!" Mac said triumphantly. "You see, it's like I said, a sortof millstone!"

"Mile stone," Haywood corrected absently. "I suppose you could regardthe little chap as a sort of anniversary baby at that."

"You're darned right!" Mac nodded emphatically. "It's like we ought todo something about it—to kind of celebrate—like when a show househas fifty thousand customers and the fifty thousandth guy gets a freeticket or a smoke stand with a naked lady on top."

"But that's all in the line of advertising," Haywood said primly."Crass commercialism."

"And what's wrong with advertising about babies?" Mac asked. "Babiesare the best darned product in the world. It's about time something wasdone to stimulate trade, I guess."

"Well, I really doubt ..." Haywood began.

"You never was a father," Mac broke in elegantly. "It's a verybroadening experience, even when your kids turn out to be brats."

"But don't you think," Haywood mused, "that it's rather been taken careof—the stimulation part of it, I mean?"

"Not near enough," Mac said firmly, "not when there are guys like youwho get left out."

An introspective look came into Haywood's intelligent eyes. "Perhapsyou're right," he said quietly. "Working here in the dispatching officehas given me pause to think from time to time." He tapped his slenderfingers soundlessly on the cloud bank, producing a series of delicatelyswirled vapors. "But we haven't any free tickets or smoke stands withnaked ladies to give away—and no way to give them, even if we had."

"Then we'll have to give something else," Mac said solemnly. "Somethinglike it's not something you can touch and pick up, but something likemaybe these people can just think about it and it will make them happy."

Haywood nodded. "You mean something more of a spiritual order."

"Yeah. I guess that's it."

For a moment the two of them were thoughtfully silent. PresentlyHaywood stopped drumming his fingers.

"How would it be," he said, "if we made their baby a very special babyin some way? All parents are fond of the notion that their first childis the most extraordinary child ever born. Suppose we find some way tomake this anniversary baby really unusual?"

"Why sure!" Mac said jubilantly. "That's it! I always said you hadbrains, Haywood."

"Thank you, Mac," Haywood said uncertainly. "But what special qualityshall we give this child? Can you think of anything?"

For a moment they stared at each other blankly. Mac twitched a wing.

"How about three hands?" he asked. "People are always saying how theywished they had three hands. It would make the kid a big help aroundthe house."

"You've been away from Earth too long, Mac," Haywood said gently. "Youknow how unpleasant people can be to freaks."

"Oh, yeah," Mac said deflatedly. "I forgot."

"I don't think a physical difference is wise," Haywood went on. "Ithink something more from within would be better. Mortals are alwayswishing to be completely good and honest. At least they pray about it agood deal...."

Mac shook his head. "You can't be too good or too honest down there,Haywood. Sometimes it turns into a vice. Besides, people get suspiciousand make things very hard for you. That's why the good ones never staytoo long."

"You're quite right," Haywood conceded. "But we've got to think ofsomething. I should be finishing up the dispatch right now. If I'mgoing to add anything to the orders I'd better do it."

"There must be something," Mac said anxiously. "What else do peoplealways wish for?"

"Well ..." Haywood mused. Then, quite unexpectedly, he smiled one ofhis rare smiles. "I have it! How many times have you heard people wishthat they had known at some previous point in their lives somethingthat they have only managed to find out later?"

"Huh?" Mac said.

"You know the expression, 'if I had only known then what I know now.'People are constantly saying how much better things would be if theyhad only been born with the knowledge of a lifetime. How would it beif we arrange to have this child born knowing everything that he'sdestined to learn throughout all his earthly years?"

"You mean so he can see into the future?"

"No, no, nothing so trite as that. Just let him know at the outset allthe things that he will eventually learn so that he may apply them tohis life as he goes along."

Mac slapped his broad hands together with enthusiastic approval. "Hey,that's wonderful!" he said. "It sounds classy, too. We make thismillion quadrillionth baby the most wised-up kid any pair of parentsever had. Write that down, Haywood, just like you said it. Put it inthe special specifications part."

"All right," Haywood said, rather pleased with himself, "then, that'swhat it'll be." He turned carefully back to the cloud bank, wriggledhis knees into its fleecy confines and took up his pen. "I'll have toword it carefully so there won't be any oversight."

"Gosh!" Mac grinned rapturously, "just think how tickled those parentsare going to be. It makes you feel good just thinking about it!"

Hair rumpled and necktie askew, Lester sat in the hospital waiting roomand smoked endless cigarettes. Across from him sat another young man ina similar state of disheveled conflagration, but the two of them didnot speak. The situation was understood and words would only make itworse. Time passed.

At last a door swung open and a nurse with a starched expression and asevere uniform stepped flat-footedly into the room. In unison Lesterand his companion sat up and looked around like a pair of beaglesalerted to the scent of the fox. There was an ominous pause while thenurse, indulging a sadistic sense of the dramatic, looked questioninglyfrom one to the other.

"Mr. Holmes?" she asked crisply.

"Yes!" Lester said, leaping from his chair. "Yes, yes! That's me!"

The nurse regarded him slowly, as though finding only what she hadexpected, which wasn't much. "Your wife," she announced thinly, "hasjust given birth to a healthy six pound boy." She edged back toward thedoor, then stopped. "Congratulations," she added grudgingly.

"Holy smoke!" Lester said. "Can I see Ginny?"

The nurse eyed him levelly. "Ginny?" she enquired.

"My mother!" Lester said confusedly, making a Freudian slip. "I mean,my wife, the mother of my son. You know...." he ended lamely.

"Mrs. Holmes will be resting for the next couple of hours," the nursesaid, "and she mustn't be disturbed. Meanwhile, if you'd care to seeyour son, he will appear shortly in the nursery, in the crib markedwith your name. You may view him through the glass partition."

"Oh," Lester said. "Oh, sure. But, Ginny—Mrs. Holmes—how is she?"

"She came through the delivery splendidly," the nurse told him and left.

Grinning, Lester turned to the other young man who looked back at himnumbly. "Well...." he said. "Golly!" He waited for a moment, thenshrugged happily and started toward the door.

He paced back and forth in front of the plate glass window, nervouslyeyeing the first row of metal cribs which contained the one marked"Holmes." His crib, or rather the crib of his son, was exactly likeall the others in the line, except that it had remained starklyunoccupied for some time now and for that reason seemed somehow largerand more ominous than the others. Absently, Lester was aware of othersleepy-eyed fathers along the window, and of the occasional presence,within the panelled confines of the nursery, of nurses, moving back andforth like the masked ladies of some frightfully pristine and hygenicIndia.

From time to time, these last would bring a baby forward to theviewing window for the inspection of the fathers who were alreadyplanning complications for the little newcomer's life. Lester watchedas a sandy-haired young man with dark shadows under his eyes movedto the speaking tube at the side of the window and briefly requestedan introduction to his new-born daughter. Within the nursery one ofthe nurses nodded to him and said a polite "yes, sir," which wascommunicated to the young man over a concealed speaker. Waiting untilthe young man had departed, Lester followed his example and edged up tothe tube. There was another nurse conveniently at hand.

"Miss," he said mildly. "Nurse."

The young lady turned and regarded him from over her mask with a pairof large brown eyes. "Yes?" she asked. "Are you one of the fathers?"

"I—yes," Lester nodded. "Only my baby isn't in the nursery yet, andit's been quite a while now since they sent me here to see him."

A flicker of puzzlement showed in the nurse's eyes. "What is the name,please?" she asked.

"Holmes," Lester said. "Lester Holmes. It's a boy. Six pounds. If thathelps you any."

The brown eyes changed expression swiftly and unexpectedly. They rakedLester's face hastily, as though passing over some object too loathsomefor closer observation. It seemed to Lester that the exposed part ofthe nurse's complexion turned a ghastly white.

"Good grief!" the girl said over the speaker and hurried out of theroom.

"Hey!" Lester said, bending closer to the tube. "Hey, nurse!"

He stood there for a moment, feeling vague stirrings of impendingdoom, then he moved back. Inside the nursery the door opened and twonurses, neither with large brown eyes, stepped inside, stared hauntedlyin his direction for a moment, then disappeared again. Lester watchedthis denouement with utter bewilderment. He retreated to the far sideof the room and sat down in a chair with iron legs and slippery redplastic cushions.

Lester was still sitting there, without benefit of spurs, when thedoctor came in. He was a tall, pinkish sort of man, balding of head andjittery of manner. He leaned down to Lester as though preparing to saya very confidential and filthy word.

"Holmes?" he enquired.

"Yes!" Lester said, starting. "That's me."

"Would you just step out here in the hall for a moment?"

Lester got up and silently followed the doctor outside. The door tothe waiting room sighed shut behind them, and for a moment they stoodlooking at each other.

"Mr. Holmes ..." the doctor said, then lapsed into undecided silence.

Lester made a small gesture with his hand. "Look, doctor," he said. "Iknow I'm not familiar with the way things are done around a hospital,but frankly I'm beginning to get a little worried."

"Of course you are," the doctor said emphatically.

"Huh?" Lester said.

"Expectant fathers are always worried," the doctor said and smiledstiffly.

"I'm not expectant any more," Lester said. "The nurse said everythingwas all right, that the baby was healthy and Ginny was doing fine."

The doctor looked at him, as though with sudden inspiration. "Would youlike to see your wife, Mr. Holmes?" he asked quickly.

"Yes," Lester said. "I'd like to seesomeone."

A look of momentary relief lighted the doctor's face. "Fine," he said,"fine. And when you've finished we'll have a little talk, eh? Now, justcome along this way."

Ginny, in the tall, awkward hospital bed, looked kind of pinched andstringy, like she always did in the summer when she'd spent a daycanning fruit. As Lester entered, she smiled in a slack-mouthed sort ofway.

"Hello, dear," she said weakly.

"Hi," Lester said.

"Daddy," Ginny said dreamily. "You're a daddy now."

"And you're a mother," Lester said foolishly.

"Yes," Ginny murmured. "You are a daddy and I'm a mother. Both at thesame time." She smiled again. "It's funny."

"Funny?" Lester said. He sat down on the edge of the bed and took herhand. "How do you mean?"

"The anesthetic was funny," Ginny said, and suddenly she giggled.

Lester looked at her worriedly. "Did anything happen?" he asked."Besides the baby, I mean?"

"Oh, just something I imagined," Ginny said. "But it was so clear itwas like it was real." She looked at him from between half-closed lidsand giggled again. "When the doctor spanked the baby—you know how theydo—he said, 'Stop that, you big ape! Try swatting someone your ownsize!'"

"The doctor said that?"

"No, the baby," Ginny said. "Wasn't it funny the way I imagined allthat?"

Lester forced a smile. "Yeah," he said, "sure."

Just then a nurse, eyeing Lester with uneasy speculation, edged quietlyinto the room. "You'll have to leave now, Mr. Holmes," she said. "Thedoctors are waiting for you."

"Doctors?" Lester said, then decided to let it go; the hospital hadbecame a dark and mysterious place. He leaned down and kissed Ginnylightly on the lips. "Get some rest, dear," he murmured.

There were six doctors in the little office, an assorted half dozen ofvarying sizes and ages. The white-coated oath-taker with whom Lesterhad shared the cryptic conversation in the hall presided over thegathering from behind a desk at the far side of the room. The otherssat in chairs that had been arranged against the walls. All of themeyed Lester with something like grave wonder as he moved forward andtook his seat in front of the desk. Lester looked hopefully from one tothe other, then cleared his throat. The small doctor to his left jumped.

"I realize," Lester said, "that I'm not acquainted with hospitalroutine. This is the first time...."

"Of course, Mr. Holmes," the pinkish doctor put in quickly, with asort of reverent horror. "And I must confess that procedures havenecessarily been a trifle irregular in this case...."

"Case?" Lester said. "What's wrong, doctor? Why won't you tell me?"

The doctor folded his pale, slender hands before him with intricatecare. "Mr. Holmes," he said gently, "have you ever taken an I.Q. test?"

Lester stared at him blankly for a moment. He was conscious of asinking sensation, much as though he were a cake in an oven and someonehad slammed a door somewhere. "Yes, I have," he said cautiously. "Idon't remember the score exactly. They said I was average. Is theresomething wrong with my son, doctor?"

Again the doctor avoided a direct reply. "How about your wife, has sheever had an intelligence test?"

"I don't know," Lester answered truthfully. "She's mentioned severaltimes that she only graduated from school by the skin of her teeth. Butwhat has that got to do with...."

"I wonder, Mr. Holmes, if you'd be willing to submit to an extensiveexamination and observation? It might take about a month or so, I'mafraid. You work for a bank, don't you?"

Lester nodded. "I'm a teller at the People's Trust. But...."

"Perhaps we could make arrangements with your employer for a leave ofabsence...."

The doctor broke off as the door suddenly burst open and a nursecharged into the room. She was an uncommonly homely woman whose facewould have been attractive only coming down the stretch in the fifthat Pimlico. Her cap was askew and her red mane had gotten loose fromits moorings. Breathing heavily, she pulled up abruptly in front of thedesk and glared furiously at the doctor.

"I quit!" she bellowed, banging her fist down on the desk. "I will notbe referred to as that splay-footed, cold-fingered old nag! Especiallynot by any mere infant!"

"Miss Klatt!" the doctor said sternly. "We're in conference with apatient!"

"I don't care if you're in Tucson with Marilyn Monroe!" the nurseyelled. "I'm quitting. In fact, I've quit. If it's a nurse for babiesyou want, then okay, but if you're looking for a verbal punching bagfor a three-hour old comic, you can damn well look somewhere else!"

"Miss Klatt!"

"Phooey!" Miss Klatt responded hotly. "Just call me up sometime tocome back to work and listen to my hollow laughter. And as for thatnew-layed egg you call a baby, you'll find him in his crib in thenursery!" And with that she turned on her heel and stalked from theroom, slamming the door. There was a moment of horrified silence.

"Oh, dear!" one of the doctors said distractedly. "Oh, dear!"

The pinkish doctor leaped out of his chair. "Holy smoke!" he yelled."Did she say she put him in the nursery?"

He raced for the door, and his five colleagues rose hastily andfollowed in his trail. Lester jumped up and followed after.

"Hey!" he hollered. "Hey, wait a minute!"

Lester arrived in the viewing room only a step behind the doctors.Already, it appeared, quite a crowd had assembled in the room, arandom mixture of staff members and visitors. There was an excitedmurmuring, along with a general tendency to back away from the viewingpanel. The doctors had stopped in their tracks just inside the door,in a collective attitude of stricken dismay. For a moment Lester wascompletely at a loss to discover the cause of all this, then a voice, avery small but distinct voice, echoed over the speaker.

"And you, too, fatso!" it said sharply. "Just what do you think you'restaring at?"

Lester became aware of a large, dark-haired woman who suddenly gaspedand backed away. Her lips worked feverishly over words that would notcome.

"It's an invasion of privacy!" the voice continued furiously. "I standon my rights! And I'll sit and lie down on them, too, if I have to! Idemand a private room!"

During this pithy bit of dialogue, Lester edged cautiously through theranks and peered into the brilliant inner reaches of the nursery. Atfirst he saw nothing of particular note, then, slowly his gaze, movingalong the first line of cribs, stopped at the one just left of center,where its infant occupant appeared to be sitting boldly upright,shaking its small pudgy fist at the window. The baby's face was quitered, and its tiny eyes glittered with a furious intelligence that wasdistinctly upsetting. If Lester's senses had not failed him, this wasthe originator of the angry voice.

"And what are you nosing around for, stupid?" the baby asked hotly,darting a swift glance in his direction. "I suppose you have never seena baby before? How would you like it if every time you looked up fromyour bed you were faced with a lot of dough-faced, low-grade moronsgaping at you through a plate glass window? Talk about goldfish!"

For a moment Lester was too startled to move. Then, laggingly, his eyesmoved to the name on the crib, and he stiffened sharply. The name,plain as a day in May, wasHolmes!

"Wha—!" Lester said, unable to grasp the situation or any part of it.He whirled about to the doctors and found them in hasty retreat towarda doorway at the far end of the room.

"Hey!" Lester yelled and took out after them.

He raced along in their wake down a narrow hallway and through anotherdoor, into a small room full of electric sterilizers. Instantly uponarrival, the doctors went quickly to the business of donning masks.

"Now just look here!" Lester cried, but the doctors were already inretreat toward an inner door with a glass port-hole through which couldbe seen the nursery. Lester shoved after them, but was held back.

"You can't come in without a mask," one of the doctors told him, thenslammed the door in his face.

"I'm getting sore!" Lester said. He swung about, found a discarded masklying on a white porcelained table and slipped it on. Adjusting thestrap, he hastened into the nursery.

He was greeted by a deafening din as he shoved through the door. Thirtyodd babies, suddenly roused, had taken up the cry in shrill discord.Intermingled with this was the disgruntled rumblings of the doctors andthe outraged mouthings of the truculent baby.

"Well, high time!" the infant yelled. "Get me out of this Bedlam beforeI lose my temper! How do you expect anyone to get any rest in a roomfull of howling brats!"

"Shut off that loudspeaker!" one of the doctors yelled, and a colleaguerushed to a switch on the wall.

Lester wedged himself determinedly into the fast-closing knot aroundthe crib. He shoved his face through an opening between two white-cladshoulders and looked up at the doctor across from him.

"How is he doing that?" he asked.

The infant in the crib looked up at him wearily. "Another one," hecommented. "That makes seven. Seven come eleven and not a brain in thelot. What do I have to do to get a private room in this butcher shop?Clear out, you underlings, and send me the manager!"

"You're going to get a private room!" the doctor across from Lestersaid shortly. "You're going to get one if I have to build it myself."He scooped the infant up in his arms.

"Well," the baby said, falling back importantly into the crook of thedoctor's arm, "that's more like it."

Again straggling after the doctors, Lester followed them from thenursery, through the outer room, down the hallway and into a roommarkedPrivate. There the baby was placed on an adult-sized bed,where it sat up majestically against the pillow and watched with ajaundiced eye the unmasking of those assembled.

"The human race," he commented, "is certainly not an attractive one.You jokers make up as ugly a crew as ever blotted the horizons ofhell. Not to mention that nurse you sent me. What a horror that onewas!"

"She quit the hospital, you'll be delighted to know," the doctor said,bristling.

"And thereby provided the medical profession its greatest singleadvance in years," the infant retorted blandly.

"You didn't have to insult her," the doctor said.

"Somebody had to," the baby said, the absolute soul of reason. "No onewith a face like that could go without insult much longer."

The doctor opened his mouth to reply, then glanced around uneasily atthe others. "It's ridiculous, arguing with a mere infant like this," hemurmured. "I feel like a fool."

"Don't be alarmed," the baby said mildly. "You also look like a fool.And I think that clears up your status most conclusively."

"Is he really doing that?" Lester breathed incredulously. "Isn't itjust some sort of a trick or something?"

The baby shot him a quick glance. "Who's that?" he asked.

"Your father," the doctor said bitterly. "Heaven help him."

"That!" the baby said, disbelievingly pointing a finger at Lester."Good grief!" He eyed Lester more closely and with an evident lackof satisfaction. He shrugged fatalistically. "Well, as long as you'rehere, there's a little matter I want straightened out. I happen to knowthat you and your wife—my mother, I suppose—are planning to nameme Frederick Lester Holmes. I've thought it over and decided I can'tpermit it. The name is entirely too commonplace. I wish to be calledAnstruther Pierpont Holmes, which is more consistent with the positionwhich I mean to attain in life." He subjected Lester to another lengthyand critical stare. "Since you are my father, you may refer to meas A.P., so as to achieve an absolute economy of time spent incommunication between us."

Lester clutched blindly at the foot of the bed in an attempt tomaintain his equilibrium; suddenly he felt as though his knees had beenset on swivels. The room appeared to be leaping about with a will ofits own.

"Grab him!" a voice yelled close by. "He's going into shock!"

Five days later, Lester sat in the corner of the hospital room,maintaining a morbid silence while the nurse finished packing Ginny'sbag. Ginny dressed now and looking pretty, though somewhat drawn, satin a wheel chair with the infant A.P. held gingerly, as one mighthold a small A Bomb, in her lap. All of them watched tensely as thenurse snapped the catch on the bag and left the room. The instant shewas gone, Lester was on his feet. He approached the wheel chair andlevelled a warning finger under A.P.'s negligible nose.

"I don't know how the newspapers got wind of this," he said, "but Idefinitely suspect you. The hospital promised to keep it quiet. If anyof those reporters get to you, just keep your big mouth shut. Maybe youwant to be a side show attraction, but your mother and I don't!"

"Nuts," the baby said briefly.

Lester raised his glance to Ginny. "And if they ask you anything, justdon't answer. And try not to cry."

"Oh, Lester!" Ginny said tearfully. "What will the neighbors think?They'll say we're not normal, and that he's a—"

"A monster," Lester supplied. "And they'll be right."

"You don't need to talk about me as though I weren't here," A.P. saidevenly. "I can hear every word you're saying."

"Can't we just stay here in the hospital?" Ginny pleaded. "Just a fewmore days?"

"They won't have him," Lester said, casting A.P. an accusing glance."He's tried to reorganize the entire hospital. Three nurses, twodoctors and five internes have given up the profession, and sixpatients stole wheel chairs and left without notice. They've given us adeadline until noon to get him off the premises."

"Inefficiency," A.P. said tersely. "Everywhere you look, inefficiency.It's appalling."

"And so are you!" Letter snapped.

"My father!" the infant said, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "Whatirony!"

At this moment the nurse returned and the unhappy trio fell into aforced silence.

"The reporters," the nurse said uneasily, "they've gotten into thehallway somehow." She followed Lester's apprehensive gaze to the baby."They want an interview—with all three of you."

Lester sighed deeply. "Oh, well," he said, and taking hold of the wheelchair he shoved it forward.

The crush began at the door. A dozen reporters, at the first glimpseof the wheel chair, crowded toward it. A red-faced young man with atouseled crop of black hair stuck his face aggressively down next toA.P.'s.

"What do you think of the political situation, kid?" he yelled.

The little company froze, and there was an instantaneous hush. Lesterexchanged a glance of speechless horror with Ginny as their infant sonobserved his inquisitor with a scathing stare and parted his cherubiclips.

"Goo," A.P. said with flat disgust. "Goo, goo, goo!"

The ensuing week passed torturously. It was unthinkable, of course,that there should be a nurse—or any outsider for that matter—in thehouse during Ginny's recuperation. Therefore, it was necessary forLester to take a leave of absence from the bank and remain at home. Asa substitute angel of mercy, however, Lester found himself singularlylacking in certain basic qualities; he was constantly beset with analarming impulse to do violence to the weak and helpless. On theseventh day he cracked.

"I don't care!" he cried, storming into Ginny's bedroom. "I don't careif he is my son! I'm darned if I'll take any more guff off of him!" Hebanged a half-empty feeding bottle down on the bureau. "Everything I dois wrong! I give him his formula and he gives me a dissertation on howto prepare lobsters Newberg! I can't stand any more of it!"

Ginny accepted this tirade from her bed with distressed uncertainty. "Iknow, dear," she said gently. "Last time I was up I went in to see him,and he told me I was wearing the wrong shades of lipstick, powder androuge, and that I ought to comb my hair away from my face if I want toresemble anything human at all."

"And he wants to rebuild the house!" Lester fumed. "He says it'snon-functional! It's like living with Hitler, I tell you!"

"Now, dear," Ginny said softly. "We wanted a son."

"A son, yes," Lester said, "but not a pea-sized Einstein." He held outa hand. "What are we going to do, Gin? We can't keep him hidden awayforever. Mrs. Hilliard from next door was over again this morning. I'verun out of excuses."

"Oh, don't lether in!" Ginny said. "With that wart on her nose Ican't imagine what he'd say to her! And she'd blab it all over town.The newspaper people would be after us again. We'd be an object ofcuriosity all over the world!"

Lester sagged into the chair in the corner. "We'd never have anothermoment's privacy." He closed his eyes wearily. "I feel like passing outarsenic instead of cigars."

"We'll just have to keep him hidden as long as we can," Ginny saidhopelessly. "If anyone sees him we'll have to explain that he learnedto talk prematurely."

"We'll never get away with it," Lester said. "His language is toodarned premature."

"I don't know why this had to happen to us," Ginny lamented. "Itcouldn't have come from my side of the family. We've none of us everbeen very bright."

Lester looked around at her sharply. "Neither have we," he said.

"Then where did it come from?" Ginny asked.

"Not from heaven," Lester said firmly. "That's certain."

The second week passed, and Ginny recovered sufficiently to be up andabout. With apprehension, she relieved Lester of his duties with A.P.Her worst fears, she learned, had not been unfounded.

"He wants the stock reports," she reported to Lester in the kitchen."Did you give him that copy of Forever Amber?"

"I did," Lester said dully.

"But why, for heaven's sake?"

"To keep his mind off the house," Lester said. "He's got it allredesigned. Refinanced, too. In his head."

"He's got so many things in his head," Ginny said. "It's terrifying.I'll never get used to it."

"Don't worry about it," Lester said. "We won't be seeing much of him assoon as he learns to walk. He explained it all to me. He's going intosome sort of business that will take him into higher circles. I thinkhe's planning to be a financial shyster of some sort."

Ginny dropped into the chair opposite him and gazed at him dimly fromacross the table. "I thought it was going to be so nice to be a mother,to have something that depended on me and looked up to me."

"I know," Lester said. "We've just got to face it, though, A.P. isless a child than we are. He's a full grown adult and he doesn't intendto indulge us by pretending to be a baby. I know it's impossible,but...."

Both of them stiffened as a knock sounded sharply at the back door.

"Mrs. Hilliard!" Ginny hissed. "Don't answer!"

"Don't worry," Lester said.

The room filled with silence as both of them sat absolutely quiet.There was a second knock, more insistent this time. As it died out, thesilence fell again. Then it shattered.

"Hey, you two!" A.P.'s penetrating voice yelled from the nursery. "Geton the ball with that reinforced feeding! I'll never grow up if you'regoing to starve me to death!"

"Oh, Lord!" Lester groaned. Instantly there was a third knock thatfairly rattled the hinges. "You get rid of her. I'll take him thebottle."

"And make sure you have the formula I worked out!" the voice from thenursery commanded. "I don't want to waste any more time in this wickercage than I have to!"

When Lester returned to the kitchen he found, with a thrill of horror,that Mrs. Hilliard, a steely glint in her eyes, had forced her wayinside. She was a solid woman with a square figure, a square face andundoubtedly a square heart to match, which Lester was certain lay inher bosom like a small granite cornerstone. The wart on her nose wastwitching with resolution. Ginny stood, cowed, beside the open door.

"Ginny Holmes," Mrs. Hilliard was saying, "we've been friends eversince you moved here. I was the first one inside your door to welcomeyou to the neighborhood, and I resent being treated like a strangernow. After all, I only want to help out."

"But, Mrs. Hilliard ..." Ginny tried to say.

"I know you don't want me to see the baby," Mrs. Hilliard went on. "Youcertainly made that plain enough. And although I don't know why, I canguess. Everyone in the neighborhood has guessed by now."

"Why what do you mean, Mrs. Hilliard?"

"It happened to a cousin of mine; the child was hopelessly malformed.But it's no reflection on you, dear. It's just one of nature'stragedies, and you have to learn to accept it gracefully."

"But, Mrs. Hilliard!" Ginny gasped, her eyes wide with astonishment,"it's nothing like that!"

"And you'll find that everyone in the block is just as sympathetic asI am. We've all wanted to tell you how sorry we are, but if you won'tadmit it, or even let us see the child...."

Lester drew himself up in the doorway. "Mrs. Hilliard," he saidfirmly, and the woman turned, giving him a square, hard look. "Mrs.Hilliard, please put your prying mind at rest. If you want to give theneighborhood a report on our baby, then all right!" His face was fastbecoming a dangerous red. "Just step this way!"

"Lester!" Ginny cried.

But Lester was beyond caution. "We call the baby A.P.," he said, "butyou may address him as Mr. Holmes." Mrs. Hilliard cast him a curiousglance. "Come right along, Mrs. Hilliard!"

"Well ..." Mrs. Hilliard said, then selfrighteously started after himdown the hall.

As they entered, A.P. was busy reading, the book propped up againstthe side of his crib. His bottle hung rakishly from the corner of hismouth, balanced across his shoulder. At the sight of the approachingtrio, he looked around and frowned. Mrs. Hilliard stopped short as thebaby pointed a chubby finger in her direction.

"Who," A.P. asked in measured tones, "is that? Or should I say 'whatis that?'"

Mrs. Hilliard made a small wheezing sound and looked around uncertainlyat Ginny.

"This is our neighbor," Lester said recklessly. "Mrs. Hilliard."

"Well, why come dragging her in here?" A.P. asked. "Surely it can't bemilking time already." He regarded Mrs. Hilliard more closely. "She'scertainly nothing to inflict on a mere infant."

"Well!" Mrs. Hilliard managed to wheeze.

"Quiet, wart nozzle," A.P. said imperiously. "You have one of thosevoices that grate on my nerves."

Mrs. Hilliard whirled on Lester. "Lester Holmes! Is this some sort ofjoke?"

"If it is," A.P. said, "it's entirely on you, madam. How any womancould get that bowlegged in a mere sixty years is quite beyond me."

"Sixty years!" Mrs. Hilliard cried. "Bowlegged! Ginny Holmes...."

"Oh, shut up," A.P. said disgustedly. "Get out of here and let meread. I'm just at the part where she locks him into her bedroom andslips the key down the front of her dress."

"Well!" Mrs. Hilliard snorted. "I certainly will get out of here! AndI'll never set foot in this house again."

"That'll be a great relief to the foundations," A.P. observed affablyand returned to his book and bottle.

Ginny cast Lester a glance of pure fury, then turned away. "Mrs.Hilliard!" she cried. But already that outraged lady was down the halland making rapid time toward the back door. Ginny ran after her. "Mrs.Hilliard!"

"Let her go!" Lester called out, following along the hall. "Forget it."

In the kitchen, Ginny turned on him, a nasty glint in her eyes."There!" she said hysterically. "Now, you've done it! She'll telleveryone!"

"No one will believe her," Lester said defensively. "They'll just thinkshe's gone off her nut."

"They'll come here!" Ginny cried. "The reporters and everyone! I don'twant to be known as the mother of the most insulting baby in the world!"

"Neither do I!" Lester said distractedly. "I mean I don't want to beknown as the father!"

"What!" Ginny gasped, her eyes growing wide. "You mean you're goingto tell everyone you're not the father?"

"Now, I didn't say that!" Lester yelled. "I only meant that...."

"I wouldn't put it past you!" Ginny said furiously. "Put all the blameon me. I can certainly see where that child got his evil disposition!Your whole family has always been shifty! I should have known!"

"Shifty!" Lester flared. "My family, shifty! What about your brother,Delmar? Did you ever bake him a cake with a file in it, like he askedyou to?"

"You leave my family out of this! You know it was an accident thatDelmar got arrested!"

"Hah!" Lester said. "That's a hot one, that is! And you call my familyshifty. At least they're not locked up."

"But that doesn't mean that they shouldn't be!" Ginny hollered. "Thatcrazy father of yours!"

"Not to mention that witch you call 'mother!'"

"I guess she's got your number all right!"

"I'm warning you, Ginny, I can't stand much more. I'm under too much ofa strain!"

"You're under a strain!" Ginny laughed wildly. "Just who had thatbaby, I'd like to know?"

"You did!" Lester shot back. "And there's your answer to what's wrongwith him. I should have married Fanny Gantner. My father always saidso, and he knew women!"

"I'll say he did! He knew all the women in town!" Suddenly Ginny beganto cry. "So that's what you're always thinking when you look at me likethat! Fanny Gantner! Well!" Suddenly she spun around and ran from theroom.

Lester sank into the chair at the kitchen table and ran a tremblinghand over his face. "It's too much," he muttered. "It's too much forhuman flesh and bone to stand." He put his arms down on the table andleaned forward, resting his head on the backs of his hands. There wasa momentary stillness which was almost instantly broken by a seriesof racking sobs from the bedroom. Then there was the sound of A.P.'sshrill voice.

"Rot!" the infant howled. "Drivel!" There was the sound of a bookdropping to the floor. "I'm sick of this paltry fiction. If you twocases of arrested development can bestir yourselves from your childishbickerings, one of you go out and get me the financial news!"

Lester, even with his eyes closed, suddenly saw a great searing flash.He jerked back in his chair, got up and marched rigidly to the backdoor. Outside, he walked down the drive to the garage, got into the carand slammed the door.

It was more than too much. Obviously his wife considered him shifty andunreliable, and his child thought of him only as a blithering ninnyonly to be ordered about. Well, in that case, he knew what to do aboutit. He started the car, backed down the drive and started down thestreet.

The Hickentrope Hotel was the sort of establishment where themanagement was not chary of guests without luggage. Lester sat in oneof the Hickentrope's uninspiring rooms, stared at the puce coloredwalls and thought dark thoughts, until it was time to turn out thelights, stare at the darkened walls and think puce thoughts.

He blamed himself somewhat for having left Ginny alone when she'donly barely risen from her sick bed, but swift on the heels of thisrecrimination came the thought that if she wasn't able to manageproperly, A.P. would be only too happy to tell her how. Besides, shecould always telephone her mother, even though Mrs. Feeney had sworn,on the day of their wedding, never to enter her daughter's house.Finally, Lester began to speculate on the probable consequences shouldA.P. and Mrs. Feeney be brought together under the same roof and,with the picture of this happy disaster in mind, he eventually dozedoff.

In the morning, after the first barber's shave he had ever experienced,Lester made his way to the bank. He was dreary-eyed and low in hismind, but he managed to withstand the ironical congratulations of hisco-workers with a fixed and aching grin. When Mr. Painter, the bankmanager, asked him bluffly about the new heir, he had half a notion totell him just to see the silly smile wilt from his vapid face.

Lester retired soberly to his window, arranged his cash drawer and gotdown to business. It was nearly noon, in the midst of the deposits ofa neighborhood bakery shop, that Miss Sward, Mr. Painter's secretary,appeared at his shoulder to tell him that his wife was on the telephoneand wished to speak to him on a matter of urgency.

With a feeling of triumph that Ginny had capitulated so rapidly and soeasily, he completed the bakery's deposits, closed his window and madehis way back to the office and the telephone. Keeping his tone distantbut nonetheless magnanimous, he said hello.

"Lester!" Ginny's voice came tartly over the wire, "Who are all thosepeople?"

This was not precisely the approach Lester had anticipated. For amoment he was taken aback.

"What people?" he asked finally.

"You know very well what people! All those people at home. Who arethey, Lester?"

Lester felt a chill crawl up his spine. "At home?" he said. "What home?"

"It's no use playing dumb," Ginny snapped. "At our home."

"But aren't you there?" Lester asked. "I don't understand."

"Of course I'm not!" Ginny said hotly. "You know I'm not. I leftyesterday when you went out to get A.P. the financial news. Now, stophedging and...."

"But I didn't get the financial news," Lester said. "I went to a hotellast night."

"What!"

"Where are you?"

"I'm at mother's! Lester, you mean you haven't been home all night?"

"No. Haven't you?"

"I told you. I'm at mother's! Oh, Lester! who are all those people?"

"What people? Ginny, tell me what you're talking about!"

"We've got to get over there right away!" Ginny said shrilly. "I calledthe house just a little while ago—mother insisted, because of thebaby—and this woman with a terribly sexy voice answered. She wantedto know with whom I wished to speak, and I could hear a lot of peopletalking—all sorts of people! Oh, Lester!"

"Oh, Lord!" Lester said. "I'll get over there right away. It might bethe police!"

"They'll arrest us for child neglect, and everyone will know about it!Come by mother's and pick me up, Lester! Hurry!"

"Do I have to face your mother at a time like this?"

"I'll wait for you outside—on the sidewalk! Hurry, Lester, please!"

"All right!" Lester said frantically and hung up.

True to her word, Ginny, her overnight case in her hand, was waiting onthe sidewalk when Lester pulled up at the curb. But so was her mother.Mrs. Feeney was a thin-nosed woman with high cheek bones and a tongueas swift and venomous as an adder's. For the moment, her naturallysallow complexion had become quite ruddy. Lester, pulling up the brake,closed his eyes briefly to steel himself. Mrs. Feeney jutted her headthrough the window.

"Hello, Mrs. Feeney," Lester said, opening his eyes reluctantly.

"Lester Holmes!" Mrs. Feeney screeched. "You ought to be horsewhipped! Only a no good skunk like you would even think of desertinghis wife and child like this! Only a low-down rat...."

"Mother!" Ginny cried, shoving Mrs. Feeney desperately back and pullingthe door open. "Please, mother! There isn't time to bawl Lesterout—not now!"

"I'm going to have my say!" Mrs. Feeney snarled determinedly. "I don'tcare!"

"Write me a letter!" Lester said, taking Ginny's arm and drawing herinto the seat. "Just keep it clean enough to go through the mails!"

"Why you...." Mrs. Feeney yelped, clawing at the door. "You—viper!Come back here!"

But Lester had already slammed the door and pressed down on the gas.The coupe shot ahead down the street.

"Oh, Lester!" Ginny wailed, putting her case down on the floor. "Whowould all those peoplebe?"

"I don't know," Lester said worriedly. "Whoever they are, I'll betMrs. Hilliard had something to do with it. I only hope it's not theauthorities!"

The street and the drive were filled with cars when they arrived, andthey were forced to park around on the other side of the block. Lesterhelped Ginny out of the car and together they hurried back to thehouse.

The lawn was practically covered with sober-looking gentlemen who stoodabout in knots, conversing in subdued voices. A small line had formedat the front door. Lester led the way through the crowd and up thesteps to the door. He found himself faced by a slick-haired young manwho headed the line.

"Not so fast there, pal," the young man said. "You've got to wait yourturn around here. I'm next."

Ginny looked at the young man incredulously. "Next for what?" she asked.

"I'm from the Wee-wheat Cereal Company," the young man said. "Igot a tip on this wonder brat, and the boss sent me over to get anendorsement and a picture."

Lester cast him a swift, unfriendly glance and turned aggressively tothe door. He grasped the knob and shoved it open, drawing Ginny insideafter him. They were only a step inside the living room, however,before they were greeted by a dark, sleek woman in a tailored blacksuit and jeweled glasses. She observed them with cool grey eyes, andshe was carrying a pad and pencil.

"Yes?" she enquired in a tone that brooked no nonsense.

"What are all these people doing here?" Lester demanded angrily. "Whoare they?"

The woman's gaze moved unconcernedly to the opening in the door and themen standing outside on the lawn. "Some of them," she announced, "arefinanciers and corporation lawyers, I believe. Others are advertisingmen and reporters. There are some scientists, too, and one minister."She smiled noncommittally. "If you would like to place your name onthe list I can fit you in three days from now. That will be Fridayafternoon at precisely two twenty-three. If you'll just state your nameand the nature of your business...."

"The nature of my business!" Lester said. "What's going on here?"

"Matters of considerable importance," the woman said with suddenseverity. "Now, if you've something you wish to take up with A.P...."

"I certainly have!" Lester said. "I have a lot of things to take upwith A.P. I'm his father!" He turned to Ginny. "Close the door."

"Yes," Ginny said. She closed the door quickly and turned back. "AndI'm A.P.'s mother."

"Oh," the woman said. For a moment she seemed uncertain as to justwhich attitude in her repertoire to assume. She made a small motionwith her hand. "If you'll just wait here, I'll see if I can get youin."

"You wait here!" Lester said with sudden heat. "I'll get myself in.You just bet your garters I will!"

"Yes!" Ginny said and followed after Lester as he turned toward thehallway.

Crossing the room, they passed a young girl in a starched white blouse,sitting at the dining table busily typing names and addresses on alarge stack of envelopes. She glanced up at them with no change ofexpression and went on working.

"Lester," Ginny said, touching Lester's sleeve, "I just want you toknow that I'm not mad any more. Not at you."

"Me either," Lester said hastily and forged ahead.

At the door to the hallway, they were forced to give way to a lushand shapely blonde with very red lips. The girl wore a tight nurse'suniform and carried a bottle in her hand. She bustled past them anddisappeared into the kitchen. They turned toward the nursery fromwhich was coming the sound of many voices, underscored with a curiousclicking noise.

Arriving at the nursery they stopped short at the threshold. Theroom was fairly glutted with people, all talking and moving about atthe same time. In the far corner was a ticker tape machine, whichaccounted for the frenetic clicking sound. In the center of all thisactivity, A.P. looked on from his crib with an expression of enormoussatisfaction. Somewhere a telephone rang and, except for the clickingof the machine, the room fell magically silent. A young man withthick-rimmed spectacles produced the phone from the floor, answered it,then brought it forward to A.P.'s crib.

"For you, A.P.," he said briskly. "Brandish out on the Coast."

A.P. nodded sagely and gave his attention to the phone. He listenedbriefly, pursing his lips.

"Now, just a minute there, Hank," he broke in, "you should be the lastone to question my judgment after this morning. Central Mines paid off,didn't they? You're darned right they did, and handsomely, too. Now,I'm telling you, and I'm not going to repeat myself—put your gains onSpartan Steel. And remember, I'm in for twenty per cent for the tip.That's right. Goodbye."

He nodded to the young man who promptly removed the phone from his earand took it away. At the doorway, Lester stepped resolutely into theroom.

"Now, just a second!" he said loudly. "What do all you people thinkyou're doing in my house?"

All eyes swiveled in his direction. A.P. looked around and frownedslightly, as might an ancient warrior who had discovered that he hadbeen riveted into his armor with a gnat.

"Oh, so you're back," he said mildly.

"How did all these people get in here?" Lester demanded.

"Well," A.P. said without rancor, "when I discovered I'd beenabandoned, I began to yell and, one by one, they began to show up."

"But who are they?" Ginny asked weakly.

"My staff," A.P. said grandly. "Variously—there's no need fornames—they are my private secretary, my social secretary, mypublicist, my business manager, my biographer, my Washingtonrepresentative, my personal news compiler and my lawyer. You no doubtran into my receptionist, my typist, my clerk and my dietician on yourway in."

"We missed your clerk," Lester said shortly. "Just what do you and yourstaff think you're up to?"

"It's not what we think we're up to," A.P. said smoothly, "it'swhat weare up to. Already, since just this morning, I have becomethe financial advisor to the top ten industrialists in the nation,and the President. By evening, I expect I will also be the world'sforemost news analyst, financier and political manipulator. I am evenconsidering an offer to appear in motion pictures, though I'm inclinedto regard any venture in the entertainment field as a trifle facetiousfor someone who expects to take over the management of the nation—andperhaps even the world."

"A dictator!" Ginny cried thinly. "He's turned into a dictator!"

"Oh, not quite yet," A.P. said. "That takes a little time—a fewweeks, anyway."

"No!" Lester gasped.

"No?" A.P. enquired. "What do you mean, no?"

"You can't do this," Lester said. "It isn't right. I won't be thefather of a dictator."

A.P. sighed patiently. "I imagined you'd take some such prosaicattitude," he murmured. "However, you'll get used to it in time.Besides, I might point out that you're in no position to object. I canget you on a child abandonment charge any time I want to." He smiledsignificantly. "And now that you're here, it's just as well. I need alittle ready security to balance out a deal I'm putting through. I'd bemuch obliged if you'd just sign over a deed to me for the house and thecar. It won't come to much, I know, but it'll see me through."

"What!" Lester cried.

"Of course you'll have to sign them into the name of my businessmanager since I'm under age," A.P. explained, "but it will all be ingood order."

"Now, look here, you!" Lester said. "Your mother and I have scrimpedand saved for these things, and...."

"Oh, don't worry," A.P. broke in. "You'll get yours. In fact I mean toretire you and mother within the next few days with a very tidy littleallowance. I'm picking up a farm in Connecticut on a foreclosure, andyou and mother can move up there—rent free—where you won't worry somuch. So you see...."

The young man with the glasses stepped forward, a legal documentextended in his hand.

Lester backed away. "I won't do it!" he said. "I won't sign anything!"

A shocked silence fell over the room. It was as though a comrade hadstepped up to Malenkov and politely explained that he refused toshare his potato crop with the proletariat. A.P. narrowed his eyesthoughtfully.

"In that case," he said slowly, "I suppose I will have to report youto the authorities for child neglect. You realize, of course, therewill be unprecedented publicity. By noon tomorrow I expect to haveworld-wide coverage. You will be social lepers wherever you go."

"Oh dear!" Ginny whimpered. "What'll we do, Lester?"

"You have exactly thirty seconds to make up your mind," A.P. said. "Ihave to get on with business."

At this tense moment, the uniformed blonde entered the room with afresh bottle in her hand. She proceeded to the crib and leaned down toA.P.

"Your new formula, sir," she said throatily.

Up to this point, Ginny had been a mere observer, looking on with dazedbewilderment. Now, however, at the sight of the sultry blonde, a glintthat looked like militant and usurped maternalism flared in her eyes;something deep and primitive came swiftly to the surface. With a small,angry cry she strode forward and snatched the bottle from the blonde'shand.

"At least I can feed my own baby!" she cried, "even if he is amonster!" Leaning down to the crib, she picked A.P. up and settled himinto the crook of her arm. "This is a lot of nonsense! All of it!"

"Put me down!" A.P. commanded with displaced dignity. "Let go of me!"

The blonde bristled with professional outrage. "Give me that child!"she snapped. She took hold of A.P.'s arm. "I'm being paid a thousanddollars a month to administer his feedings, and I'm going to earn mymoney!"

"You're overpaid!" Ginny said hotly, hugging A.P. to herself. "Athousand dollars to feed a baby!"

"Put me down!" A.P. wheezed as the nurse made another grab for him."Both of you!"

The telephone rang sharply, and the young man ran to it.

"You be quiet!" Ginny told A.P. sternly. "Don't talk back to yourmother!"

"That's right!" Lester said, striding forward. "Or your father, either!"

"I'll report you!" A.P. yelled. "I'll tell the authorities!"

The nurse pulled at A.P. violently. "Give him to me!" she cried.

"Put me down this instant!" A.P. insisted. "I demand it!"

Lester shook a finger under the nurse's nose. "You let go of him!" hethundered. He took hold of A.P.'s chubby leg. "He's ours!"

The young man darted forward frantically with the phone. "It's Evansof Tantamount Publications!" he yelled above the uproar. He graspedA.P.'s head and jammed it next to the receiver. "He's ready to closethe deal!"

"Put me down!" A.P. shrilled into the phone. "Let go of me, all ofyou!"

"Give him back!" Ginny hissed at the nurse. "You get out of my house!"

"He's my responsibility, I guess," the nurse shot back, pulling harder."I'm getting paid for this!"

"Not to rip my leg off, you're not!" A.P. screamed.

"Evans wants an answer, A.P.!" The young man hollered. "Say something!"

While this murky atmosphere seethed and thickened inside the nursery,the sun shone brightly outside, and the distant heavens were blue. Theywere blue, that is, except to a single and very remote blemish. In thetimeless and vapored regions of Heaven's own dispatching departmentthere lay a distinct cloudiness that emanated mainly from the dismayedfaces of those two enterprising and well-intentioned angels, Mac andHaywood.

"Good grief, Haywood!" Mac gasped, gazing down hauntedly throughthe mists of time, "they're yankin' the little bugger apart! It'sdisgraceful!"

"Yes, I know," Haywood said worriedly. "The whole affair isdisgraceful. I shudder to think what will happen to us when it comesto light in the higher echelons."

"We only wanted to do something nice," Mac said sadly. "How was we toknow the kid was going to be a stinkin' genius?"

"The unknown element," Haywood sighed heavily. "The Higher Source. Evenangels can be wrong when they take authority into their own hands."

"Who'd have thought a little baby could turn out to be such a rat?"

"He's not a rat," Haywood said. "It's just that too much knowledge wasgiven to him all at once and he didn't know how to use it properly. Itonly proves again that humans can only learn through experience. We'vemade a tragic mistake, Mac."

"And it's getting tragic-er by the minute," Mac said hollowly. "If thatkid gets hold of the world.... What'll they do to us, Haywood?"

"I hesitate to even put it into words," Haywood murmured.

"The way that kid's organized," Mac said, "he's a cinch to be aworld-wide scandal by sunset. Ain't there nothing we can do to stop it?"

"I've been trying to think of something," Haywood said.

Mac looked at him hopefully. "Give it everything you've got, Haywood,"he said. "You've got the brains."

Slowly, Haywood began to drum his fingers on a nearby cloud bank....

At the focal point of this heavenly concern, A.P. finally managed toraise his voice above the angry din that raged about him. His smallvoice piped like a penny whistle.

"Stop clutching at me!" he shrieked. "My diaper is coming loose!"

The clutching however, did not stop, nor did the yanking, hauling,and pulling. Slowly, the diaper slithered loose from A.P.'s pudgymid-section and dropped to the floor. The future dictator of the worldblushed furiously.

"Stop!" he yelled. "For heaven's sake!"

After a moment, the fact that they had literally snatched the poorinfant naked finally penetrated the minds of the struggling group.There was a sudden shame-faced silence.

"Well!" A.P. said indignantly, "the least you could do is turn meover. Now, unhand me, the lot of you, before I really lose my temper!"

Under this threat, all concerned acted almost as though under ahypnotic command. Simultaneously, everyone withdrew their support. Allhands, so to speak, returned from active combat. The obvious, thoughunforeseen, result followed swiftly and shockingly; A.P. dropped tothe floor, meeting its polished surface with the back of his head and adull, ominous thud.

There was a sudden communal gasp, then horrified silence. Ginny was thefirst to recover her voice.

"He's dropped!" she said in a ghastly whisper. "On his head!"

"He told us to let go of him," the nurse said.

"He didn't mean all of us," a distinguished grey-haired gentleman said."I should have realized it."

"It was as though my hand was taken away," Lester said wonderingly.

Ginny stooped down and took A.P. gently in her arms. As shestraightened, the small form stirred and opened his eyes.

"He's all right, isn't he?" a voice asked hopefully.

Slowly, A.P.'s head lolled heavily to the side. In his eyes there wasa totally new expression, or, rather, a new lack of expression. Theyoung man with the glasses held the telephone forward.

"Evans is still waiting for an answer, A.P.," he said.

A.P.'s gaze seemed to penetrate the telephone and go beyond it. Hislips parted with a slack toothlessness that had not before beenapparent. Suddenly he began to cry, and his voice raised in a thin,distinctly babyish howl.

"Oh, no!" the young man whispered, and the telephone slowly slippedfrom his hand.

Six years later, in another house and another suburb, where there wasno Mrs. Hilliard next door and their child was known merely as 'littleFreddie Holmes,' Lester and Ginny lived in quiet obscurity. If therewere those in the world who remembered the formidable A.P. theynever mentioned it publicly, presumably loathe to admit that they hadever placed themselves at the command of a mere infant. Now, shiftinguneasily in his chair, Lester looked up worriedly as Ginny returnedfrom the hallway. He watched as she moved toward him and placed a handgently on his shoulder.

"It's all right," Ginny said. "He's only listening to the music on theradio."

"That's good," Lester sighed. "He can't learn much from that."

"We're both far too edgy about Freddie, dear," Ginny said. "After all,he really hasn't shown any signs of dominating—not really since thebeginning."

"I know," Lester said, "but what about this?" He held up the offendingclass paper. "I still think this tendency to get 'excellents' isdangerous."

"I know, dear," Ginny said, "but the doctors all said he was perfectlynormal for a child of his intelligence." She patted his shoulderconsolingly. "He's just bright, that's all, and we mustn't worry aboutit so much."

Lester nodded wearily. "I suppose not," he said. With a sigh, hedropped the paper to the floor.

Outside, in the dark and distant heavens, ever so faintly, the sigh wasechoed in duplicate.