Joanna looked at the pressed and covered racket in her hand, and at Charmaine. "That's great," she said, and smiled. "But I honestly can't believe you're giving up tennis."
"Go look," Charmaine said.
Joanna looked at her.
"Go look," Charmaine said.
Joanna turned and went into the living room and across it to the glass doors. She slid one open, hearing Charmaine behind her, and went out onto the terrace. She crossed the terrace and looked down the slope of flagstone-pathed lawn.
A truck piled with sections of mesh fencing stood on the tire-marked grass beside the tennis court. Two sides of the court's fence were gone, and the other two lay flat on the grass, a long side and a short one. Two men kneeled on the long side, working at it with long-handled cutters. They brought the handles up and together, and clicks of sound followed. A mountain of dark soil sat on the center of the court; the net and the posts were gone.
"Ed wants a putting green," Charmaine said, coming to Joanna's side.
"It's a clay court!" Joanna said, turning to her.
"It's the only level place we've got," Charmaine said.
"My God," Joanna said, looking at the men working the cutter handles.
"That's crazy, Charmaine!"
"Ed plays golf, he doesn't play tennis," Charmaine said.
Joanna looked at her. "What did he do to you?" she said. "Hypnotize you?"
"Don't be silly," Charmaine said, smiling. "He's a wonderful guy and I'm a lucky woman who ought to be grateful to him. Do you want to stay awhile? I'll make you some coffee. I'm doing Merrill's room but we can talk while I'm working-"
"All right," Joanna said, but shook her head and said, "No, no, I-" She backed from Charmaine, looking at her. "No, there are things I should be doing too." She turned and went quickly across the terrace.
"I'm sorry I forgot to call you," Charmaine said, following her into the living room.
"It's all right," Joanna said, going quickly, stopping, turning, holding her racket before her with both hands. "I'll see you in a few days, okay?"
"Yes," Charmaine said, smiling. "Please call me. And please give my regards to Walter."
BOBBIE WENT TO SEE FOR herself, and called about it. "She was moving the bedroom furniture. And they just moved in in July; how dirty can the place be?"
"It won't last," Joanna said. "It can't. People doWt change that way."
"Don't they?" Bobbie said. "Around here?"
"What do you mean?"
"Shut up, Kenny! Give him that! Joanna, listen, I want to talk with you.
Can you have lunch tomorrow?"
"Yes-"
"I'll pick you up around noon. I said give it to him! Okay? Noon, nothing fancy."
"Okay. Kim! You're getting water all over the-"
Walter wasn't particularly surprised to hear about the change in Charmaine. "Ed must have laid the law down to her," he said, turning a fork of spaghetti against his spoon. "I don't think he makes enough money for that kind of a setup. A maid must be at least a hundred a week these days.
"But her whole attitude's changed," Joanna said. "You'd think she'd be complaining."
"Do you know what Jeremy's allowance is?" Pete said.
"He's two years older than you are," Walter said.
"THIS IS GOING TO SOUND crazy, but I want you to listen to me without laughing, because either I'm right or I'm going off my rocker and need sympathy." Bobbie picked at the bun of her cheeseburger.
Joanna, watching her, swallowed cheeseburger and said, "All right, go ahead."
They were at the McDonald's on Eastbridge Road, eating in the car.
Bobbie took a small bite of her cheeseburger, and chewed and swallowed.
"There was a thing in Time a few weeks ago," she said. "I looked for it but I must have thrown the issue out." She looked at Joanna. "They have a very low crime rate in El Paso, Texas," she said. "I think it was El Paso. Anyway, somewhere in Texas they have a very low crime rate, much lower than anywhere else in Texas; and the reason is, there's a chemical in the ground that gets into the water, and it tranquilizes everybody and eases the tension. God's truth."
"I think I remember," Joanna said, nodding, holding her cheeseburger.
"Joanna," Bobbie said, "I think there's something here. In Stepford. It's possible, isn't it? All those fancy plants on Route Nine-electronics, computers, aerospace junk, with Stepford Creek running right behind them-who knows what kind of crap they're dumping into the environment."
"What do You mean?" Joanna said.
"Just think for a minute," Bobbie said. She fisted her free hand and stuck out its pinky. "Charmaine's changed and become a hausfrau," she said.
She stuck out her ring finger. "The woman you spoke to, the one who was president of the club; she changed, didn't she, from what she must have been before?"
Joanna nodded.
Bobbie's next finger flicked out. "The woman Charmaine played tennis with, before you; she changed too, Charmaine said so."
Joanna frowned. She took a French fry from the bag between them. "You think it's-because of a chemical?" she said.
Bobbie nodded. "Either leaking from one of those plants, or just around, like in El Paso or wherever." She took her coffee from the dashboard. "It has to be," she said. "It can't be a coincidence that Stepford women are all the way they are. And some of the ones we spoke to must have belonged to that club. A few years ago they were applauding Betty Friedan, and look at them now. They've changed too."
Joanna ate the French fry and took a bite of her cheeseburger. Bobbie took a bite of her cheeseburger and sipped her coffee.
"There's something," Bobbie said. "In the ground, in the water, in the air-I don't know. It makes women interested in housekeeping and nothing else but. Who knows what chemicals can do? Nobel-prize winners don't even really know yet. Maybe it's some kind of hormone thing; that would explain the fantastic boobs. You've got to have noticed."
"I sure have," Joanna said. "I feel pre-adolescent every time I set foot in the market."
"I do, for God's sake," Bobbie said. She put her coffee on the dashboard and took French fries from the bag. "Well?" she said.
"I suppose it's-possible," Joanna said. "But it sounds so -fantastic." She took her coffee from the dashboard; it had made a patch of fog on the windshield.
"No more fantastic than El Paso," Bobbie said.
"More," Joanna said. "Because it affects only women. What does Dave think?"
"I haven't mentioned it to him yet. I thought I'd try it out on you first."
Joanna sipped her coffee. "Well it's in the realm of possibility," she said. "I don't think you're off your rocker. Ile thing to do, I guess, is write a very level-headed-sounding letter to the State-what, Department of Health? Environmental Commission? Whatever agency would have the authority to look into it. We could find out at the library."
Bobbie shook her head. "Mm-mmn," she said. "I worked for a government agency; forget it. I think the thing to do is move out. Then futz around with letters."
Joanna looked at her.
"I mean it," Bobbie said. "Anything that can make a hausfrau out of Charmaine isn't going to have any special trouble with me. Or with you."
"Oh come on," Joanna said.
"There's something here, Joanna! I'm not kidding! This is Zombieville! And Charmaine moved in in July, I moved in in August, and you moved in in September!"