He said, "Poddy, I can't give in to her. Not at all. You understand that? Don't you?"
"I certainly do! But look-you could fake it. Tell her anything. Get loose yourself and take Clark along, as she suggested. Then you can rescue me. I'll hold out. You'll see!"
He looked terribly old. "Poddy ... Poddy darling
I'm very much afraid ... that this is the end. Be brave, dear."
"Uh, I haven't had very much practice at that. But I'll try to be." I pinched myself, mentally, to see if I was scared-and I wasn't, not really. Somehow I couldn't be scared with Uncle there, even though he was helpless just then. "Uncle, what is it she wants? Is she some kind of a fanatic?"
He didn't answer because we both heard Mrs. Grew's jolly, belly-deep laugh. "'Fanatic'!" she repeated, came over and tweaked my cheek. "Poddy dear, I'm not any sort of fanatic and I don't really care any more about polities than your uncle does. But I learned many years ago when I was just a girl-and quite attractive, too, dear, much more so than you will ever be-that a girl's best friend is cash. No, dear, I'm a paid professional and a good one."
She went on briskly, "Senator, I think the boy is deaf but I can't be sure; he's passed out now. We'll discuss it later, it's time for my nap. Perhaps we had all better rest a little."
And she called in Pinhead and I was carried into the room I am in now. When he picked me up, I really was truly aghast!-and found that I could move my arms and legs just a little bit-pins and needles you wouldn't believe!-and I struggled feebly. Did me no good, I was dumped in here anyhow.
After a while the drug wore off and I felt almost normal, though shaky. Shortly thereafter I discovered that Titania is a very good watchdog indeed and I haven't tried to reach that door since; my arm and shoulder are quite sore and getting stiff.
Instead I inspected the room. Not much in it. A bed with a mattress but nq bedclothes; not that you need any in this climate. A sort of a table suspended from one wall and a chair fastened to the floor by it. Glow tubes around the upper corners of the room. I checked all these things at once after learning the hard way that Titania was not just a cutie with gauzy wings. It was quite clear that Mrs. Grew, or whoever had outfitted that room, had no intention of leaving anything in it that could be used as a weapon, against Titania or anybody. And I no longer had even my coat and purse.
I particularly regretted losing my purse, because I always cany a number of useful things in it. A nail file for example-if I had had even my nail file I night have considered taking on that bloodthirsty little fairy. But I didn't waste time thinking about it; my purse was where I had dropped it when I was drugged.
I did find one thing very interesting: this room had been used to prison Clark before I landed in it. One of his two bags was there-and I suppose I should have missed it from his room the night before, only I got upset and left Uncle to finish the search. The bag held a very odd collection for a knight errant venturing forth to rescue a damsel in distress: some clothing- three T-shirts and two pairs of shorts, a spare pair of shoes-a slide rule, and three comic books.
If I had found a flame gun or supplies of mysterious
chemicals, I would not have been surprised-more Clarkish. I suppose, when you get right down to it, for
all his brilliance Clark is just a little boy.
I worried a bit then about the possibility-or probability-that he was deaf. Then I quit thinking about
it. If true, I couldn't help it-and he would miss his ears less than anything, since he hardly ever listens anyhow.
So I lay down on the bed and read his comic books.
I am not a comic-book addict but these were quite entertaining, especially as the heroes were always getting out of predicaments much worse than the one I was in.
After a while I fell asleep and had heroic dreams.
I was awakened by "breakfast" (more like dinner but quite good). Pinhead took the tray away, and light plastic dishes and a plastic spoon offered little in the way of lethal weapons. However, I was delighted to find that he had fetched my purse!
Delighted for all of ten seconds, that is- No nail file. No penknife. Not a darn thing in it more deadly than lipstick and handky. Mrs. Grew hadn't disturbed any money or my tiny minirecorder but she had taken everything that could conceivably do any good (harm). So I gritted my teeth and ate and then brought this useless journal up to date. That's about all I've done since-just sleep and eat and make friends with Ariel. It reminds me of Duncan. Oh, not alike really-but all babies are sort of alike, don't you think?
I had dozed off from lack of anything better to do when I was awakened. "Poddy, dear-"
"Oh! Hello, Mrs. Grew."
"Now, now, no quick moves," she said chidingly. I wasn't about to make any quick moves; she had a gun pointed at my belly button. I'm very fond of it, it's the only one I have.
"Now be a good girl and turn over and cross your wrists behind you." I did so and in a moment she had them tied, quite firmly. Then she looped the line around my neck and had me on a leash-and if I struggled, all I accomplished was choking myself. So I didn't struggle.
Oh, I'm sure there was at least a moment when she
didn't have that gun pointed at me and my wrists were not yet tied. One of those comic-book heroes would
have snatched that golden instant, rendered her helpless, tied her with her own rope.
Regrettably, none of those heroes was named "Poddy Fries." My education has encompassed cooking, sewing, quite a lot of math and history and science, and such useful tidbits as freehand drawing and how to dip candles and make soap. But hand-to-hand combat I have learned sketchily if at all from occasional border clashes with Clark. I know that Mother feels that this is a lack (she is skilled in both karate and kill-quick, and can shoot as well as Daddy does) but Daddy has put off sending me to classes-I've gathered the impression that he doesn't really want his "baby girl" to know such things.
I vote with Mother, it's a lack. There must have been a split second when I could have lashed out with a heel, caught Mrs. Grew in her solar plexus, then broken her neck while she was still helpless-and run down the Jolly Roger and run up the Union Jack, just like in Treasure Island.
Oppernockity tunes but once-and I wasn't in tune with it.
Instead I was led away like a puppy on a string. Titania eyed us as we went through the door but Mrs. Grew clucked at her and she settled back on her perch and cuddled Ariel to her.
She had me walk in front of her down a hallway, through that living room where I had last seen Uncle Tom and Clark, out another door and a passage and into a large room-
-and I gasped and suppressed a scream!
Mrs. Grew said cheerfully, "Take a good look, dear. He's your new roommate."
Half the room was closed off with heavy steel bars, like a cage in a zoo. Inside was-well, it was Pinhead, that's what it was, though it took me a long moment of fright to realize it. You may have gathered that I
do not consider Pinhead handsome. Well, dear, he was Apollo Belvedere before compared with the red-eyed maniacal horror he had become.
Then I was lying on the floor and Mrs. Grew was giving me smelling salts. Yes, sir, Captain Podkayne Fries the Famous Explorer had keeled over like a silly girl. All right, go ahead and laugh; I don't mind. You haven't ever been shoved into a room with a thing like that and had it introduced to you as "your new roommate."
Mrs. Grew was chuckling. "Feel better, dear?"
"You're not going to put me in there with him!"