"Won't anyone tell me? Well, I suppose it's an unfair question."
Finchley said suddenly, "Teams shift around. I drive with Fred, and Shorty with Ski, and so forth. Been times when 1 rode Shotgun for Ski. Eunice, she treated us all alike. But don't never think anything bad about it—"
"I don't!"
"—because there wasn't any such. She was so warm and friendly—and good—that she could kiss a man friend just for, uh—"
"For lovingkindness," Shorty supplied,.
"‘For lovingkindness.' Kissed us thank-you and good-night as quick with her husband there as any other time. Always did, if we stopped for a late bit o' supper with them." (All right, twin. Fred and Anton. Not Tom and Hugo. Happened only once. Oh, Tom would have, but no chance, so I kept it cool. Hugo—nobody gets past Hugo's guard and I never tried. He has moral character—something you and I don't know anything about.)
"Thank you for telling me, Tom. I'll never let Anton guess. But he'll find me easy to kiss if he wishes to... now that I know that she shared lovingkindness with him.
Abrupt change of subject: Tom, is that pretty little stream polluted? It looks so clean."
"It's clean. Clean as a creek can be, I mean. I know because I found out about this place through the company lending it to our guild for a picnic. Some of us went swimming after the farm super told us it was okay."
"Oh, wonderful! Because I want to swim. I last went swimming in natural water—old swimming hole style, I mean—let me see... goodness! More than three-quarters of a century ago."
"Eunice, I don't think you should."
"Why?"
"Because it can be polluted another way. Dropouts. Not all the dropouts are in the A.A.s; any wild countryside attracts them. Like this. I didn't make a fuss but when you walked down to the bank by yourself, Fred had you flanked one side and me the other."
"Well, heavens, if you can keep me safe on the bank, you can keep me safe in the water."
"It ain't quite the same, truly it ain't. I was a few seconds late once, I won't be again. Some dropouts are real nasty weirdos, not just harmless nuts."
"Tom, why argue? I want to get into that water, feel it all over me. I intend to."
"I wish you wouldn't... Joan Eunice."
She jerked her head around at the last two words. Then she grinned and pouted her lower lip. "Okay, Tom. Darn it, I've handed you three a leash you can lead me by any time you see fit. And yet I'm supposed to be boss. It's comical."
"It's like the Secret Service," Finchley answered soberly. "The President is the top boss of any... but he gives in when his guards tell him not to do something."
"Oh, I wasn't complaining; I was wryly amused. But don't jerk that leash too much, Tom; I don't think Eunice would stand for it and neither will I."
"I'm hoping you won't pull on the leash as much as she did. If she, uh—well, things coulda been different."
Fred said, "Tom, don't cry over spilt milk."
Joan said quickly, "I'm sorry. Boys, I think the picnic is over. Maybe someday we pan all have that swim somewhere safe and just as beautiful." (Eunice, can you swim?) (Red Cross lifesaver—you knew that, it was in my snoopsheet. Never went out for the team, though; cheerleader was more fun.) (I could make a comment.) (Look who's talking! No-Pants Smith.) (Who taught me?)
(You didn't need teaching; you have the instincts.)
19
A short time later they were again in the car. Finchley said, "Home, Miss Smith?"
"Tom, I can't hear you."
"I asked did you want to go home, Miss?"
"I understood that part but this intercom must be out of order. I heard something that sounded like ‘Miss Smith.'"
There was a silence. "Eunice, do you want to go home?"
"Not until dinnertime, Tom; I want all of this lovely day I can have."
"Okay, Eunice. Do I cruise? Or go somewhere?"
"Uh... I have one more item on my list, and there's time enough for anything you three may want to pick up, too, so check around."
"Will do. Where do we take you for what you want, Eunice?"
"I don't know. I lost touch with such matters years ago. Tom, I want to buy a present for Mr. Salomon, something nice but unnecessary—presents should be unnecessary, a luxury a person might not buy himself. So it probably would be a men's shop that stocks luxurious unnecessaries. Abercromhie & Fitch used to he that sort—but I'm not certain they are still in business."
"They are. But let me ask Fred and Shorty."
Shortly Finchley reported: "There are a dozen places that would do. But we think The Twenty-First Century Stud has the fastest stock."
"Roz. Let's giddyap and get there."
"That is, if you don't mind their prices. ‘Twigs and leaves.'
"I don't mind; I've met thieves before. Tom—all of you. I came out of this operation with more money than I had last year... and it's a nuisance. I've played the money game and I'm bored with it. Any time any of you can think of a good way to help me get rid of some—a good way, I said; I won't be played for a sucker—you'd be doing me a favor to tell me. Hugo, are there any poor people in your church?"
His answer was slow. "Lots of them, Eunice. But not hurtin' poor, just Welfare poor. I'd like to think about it... because it don't do a man no good to plain give him what he ought to root for. So the Book says, in different words."
"That's the trouble, Hugo. I've given away money many times, and usually did harm when I meant to do good. But the Book also says something about the eye of the needle. All right, think about it. Now let's go see those thieves. I'll need a man to help me. Which one of you dresses the most far-out when you aren't in uniform?"
She heard Fred laugh. "Eunice, it's no race. You should see the getups Tom wears. A Christmas tree. A light show."
Finchley growled, then said, "Don't listen to him, Eunice."
"He's probably jealous, Tom. All right, if there is parking inside or near this shop, you come help me."
As they passed through the second gate Finchley said, "Crash belts, Eunice?"
"I'm wearing the Swedish—and it's comfortable now that Hugo has adjusted it. Could we get along with just it and the collision net if we didn't go so fast? Or does that make me ‘Joan Eunice' again?"
"Uh—Will you wear the forehead strap?"
"All right. It's just that I don't like to be tied down all over. It reminds me—well, it reminds me of the way the doctors kept me strapped down after the operation. Necessary, but I hated it." She did not mention that a forehead strap was what she disliked the most.
"We heard about that—musta been horrid. But you need the forehead strap. Say I'm doing only a hundred, a slam stop could break your neck. If you don't wear it."
"So I wear it."
"I don't see the light on the board."
"Because I haven't put it on yet. There. Did the light go on?"
"Yes. Thank you... Eunice."
"Thank you, Tom. For taking care of me. Let's mush. I wasn't pulling on the leash, truly I wasn't." (Says you. Boss, you're mendacious, untruthful, and a fibber.) (Where did I learn it, dearie? They're sweet boys, Eunice—but we've got to work out a way to live so that we don't have to clear everything with forty other people. Good servants are priceless—but you work for them as much as they work for you. Life should be simpler. Honey, how would you like to go to India and be a guru and sit on a mountain top and never have any plans? Just sit and wait for your grateful chelas to gather around?)
(Might be a long wait. Why not sit at the bottom of the mountain and wait for the boys to gather around?) (One track mind!) (Yes. Yours, you dirty old man.) (Conceded. But I try to act like a lady.) (Not too hard, you don't). (As hard as you ever did, little trollop. I was called ‘Joan Eunice' once. ...nd the issue had nothing to do with sex.) (You'd be surprised how much sex had to do with it, Joan.) (Well...from that point of view, yes. But as long as they call me ‘Eunice' I'll go on believing that I've ‘done just perfect.' Honestly though, good servants can be smothering. Take Winnie. She's a darling—but she's underfoot every minute. Eunice, how the devil can we manage that ‘actively female' life you want—sorry, we want—with so much chaperonage?)