I Will Fear No Evil (42 page)

It was a necklace rich and simple—a heavy gold chain with tripled linkage, supporting a large gold ankh, a crux ansata. Winifred took it in her hands. “It’s lovely,” she said slowly. “But it’s not a woman’s necklace, you know. Or did you?”

“It’s a man’s necklace. A present for Jake.”

Winifred frowned slightly. “Joan, you do want me to help you learn how to behave as a woman.”

“You know I do.”

“Yes, I know. When I see that you are about to make a mistake, I must tell you.”

“You don’t think Jake will like this?”

“I don’t know. He may not know what it means. And you may not know. This cross with a loop is called an ‘ankh’—and it’s what my grandaddy would have called a ‘heathen symbol.’ It means—well, it means most of the things our meditation prayer means, life and goodness and love and so forth. But specifically it means sex, it’s an ancient Egyptian symbol for the generative forces, both male and female. It’s no accident that the loop looks something like a vulva and that the rest of the design could be interpreted as a male symbol. The way it’s used now—among people my age, people the age you have become—is . . . well, a wife could give it to her husband, or a husband could give a smaller one to his wife. Or they might not be married—but it
always
means sexual love—flatly and no nonsense about it. If that’s not what you mean, Joan, if you just want to give him a nice necklace, take it back and exchange it for another that isn’t so specific in its symbolism. Any necklace means love—but perhaps you want one that a daughter could give her father.”

Joan shook her head. “No, Winnie. I’ve known what the ankh means since a course in comparative religion, oh, three-quarters of a century ago. I assume that Jake knows, too; he has solid classical training. I hadn’t been sure you kids knew its ancient meaning—I see I was mistaken. Winnie, this present is no accident; I’ve asked Jake to marry me several times. He won’t. Because of age.”

“Well . . . I can see why he might feel that way.”

“It’s ridiculous. Sure, I’m a quarter of century older than he is—but it no longer shows and I’m healthy enough for marriage. Even though dear Doctor thinks I may drop dead.”

“But Dr. Garcia doesn’t really think you’ll drop dead. And I didn’t mean
you
were too old, I meant he—oh, dear!”

“Yes, yes, I know. He’s being ‘noble,’ damn him! But he doesn’t have to
marry
me, Winnie. I’ll accept any crumb I’m offered. This present is intended to say so.”

Winifred looked solemn, suddenly kissed the ankh and handed it back. “You and me both, Joan—any crumb we’re offered. Well, I wish you luck. With all my heart.”

“Good Winnie. Let’s sop up some calories; it’s getting latish and Jake will be home—I hope—by twenty-one. I want to be clean as a kitten and just as pretty and smelling even prettier when the stubborn darling gets here. Help me?”

“Love to. And look, Joanie, we douse you in ‘Harem Breeze,’ both the cologne and the perfume—and the powder. And I won’t wear any scent. I’ll scrub off what I’m wearing.”

“No, we’ll renew the bait on you, too. Maybe we’ll heterodyne.”

“‘Heterodyne’?”

“Term that used to be used a lot in radio. In this case it means that if one girl isn’t enough, two might do the trick. Last night Jake was polite about not staring . . . except that he was noticing my Winsome with both eyes all the time he was pretending not to. I’m not trying to crowd you into a Troy—but I have no scruples about staking you out as bait.”

They were out of the tub and working on the finishing touches when the house phone sounded. “Miss Smith. Mr. Salomon’s car just rolled in.”

“Thank you, O’Neil.”

A few minutes later Joan phoned the Green Suite. “Jake dear? This is your resident guru. If you wish to share a prayer meeting, guru and chela will call on you whenever you say.”

“That’s welcome news; I’m tired—and last night was the best sleep I’ve had in years, Guru.”

“I’m glad. Have you had dinner?”

“At the Gib, hours ago. Ready for bed now. If you’ll let me have, oh, twenty minutes, for a tub.”

“Shall we be there in exactly twenty minutes? I don’t want to run into Hubert.”

“I sent him to bed. Nobody here but just us chickens.”

“Twenty minutes, dear. Off.”

Again two girls went barefoot down the hallway. Joan was wearing, under a negligee, the ankh necklace. The door opened for them and Jake came toward them. He was wearing a bathrobe and had a book in hand with a finger marking his place. “Hello, my dears. You both look charming. Joan, I took the liberty of stopping in your downstairs library and borrowing this book.”

“It’s not a liberty and you know it. What is it, Jake?”

He handed it to her. “Vishnudevananda’s Yoga text. Thought there might be some of the simpler postures I could try. But I’m afraid I must stick to meditation.”

Joan looked puzzled. “This was downstairs?” She glanced at the endpaper, saw her bookplate: “Ex Libris—J S B Smith.” “I had forgotten I owned it.”

“You’re a pack rat, dear. This house must have ten thousand books in it.”

“More, I think. There were that many the last time I had them catalogued. Well, after you’re done with it Winnie and I will look through it. We might find exercises we haven’t tried.” She handed it back; he put it aside. “Ready for autohypnosis?”

“Ready for prayers and I’m sorry I sounded disparaging last night.”

“I can’t see what difference a name makes, Jake. But first—” Joan opened her robe, lifted the necklace from her neck. “A present for you, Jake. Bend your head down.”

He did so. She placed it around his neck with the ceremonial kiss. He lifted the ankh, looked at it. “Thank you, Eunice. It’s a beautiful present. Am I to wear it now?”

“As you wish. Or wear it in your mind—I know you’ve never been one for much jewelry. Ready, Winnie?” Joan Eunice dropped her robe, melted into Lotus; Winnie followed her. Jake got out of his bathrobe, leaving the necklace on, joined them.

“Jake, will you lead us tonight? No need to say ‘hold’ or ‘breathe,’ we’ll stay in step. Just like last night, a prayer for each of the four parts. Keep the tempo slow.”

“I’ll try. Om Mani Padme Hum!”

(Om Mani Padme Hum.)

Jake Salomon appeared to fall asleep instantly once they put him to bed. The girls quietly left the darkened room. Joan stopped a few feet down the hall. “Winnie, will you do something for me?”

“Anything, dear.”

“What time do people start stirring in the morning?”

“I don’t know what time Cook gets up. About six, maybe. Mostly seven or near it, for the others; staff breakfast is at seven-thirty.”

“Della doesn’t matter, she never comes upstairs. I mean this floor.”

“Well, cleaning starts at nine. But no one cleans near your room until you phone down for your tray. Have you been disturbed?”

“No. And I don’t mean to be. I guess Hubert is the only one who worries me. I’m going back and sleep with Jake.”

“Oh!”

“I’m not going this instant, I want to be sure he’s sound asleep. If he sleeps all night, I shan’t wake him; the poor dear needs his rest. But sleep with him I will! I don’t want Hubert barging in. Can you think of a way to divert him?”

“Oh, I see. I’m pretty sure Hubert never goes to Mr. Salomon’s room until Mr. Salomon sends for breakfast and Hubert takes it up. Some mornings I’ve eaten downstairs and seen Hubert sit and drink coffee and watch the news, oh, quite a long time. Waiting for Mr. Salomon to phone.”

“That’s a relief. It’s not likely that anyone but you will know it, then. Not that I mind for myself, but I would hate to be the cause of Jake being dragged into a gossip item. All right, will you do three things for me? Read or sleep in my bed a while, muss it up. Stay all night if you like but muss yours, too. And will you set your alarm for eight and if I’m not in my own bed by then, phone the Green Suite? I’m sure Jake would rather know that you knew than have us caught by someone else. Then one other thing. Would you fetch me lounging pajamas and slippers? Then, if anything slips, I’ll put a bold face on it—I’ll be dressed and to hell with snoops. While you get them I’m going to put my robe down here and say a few more Money Hums. My mind is made up but I’m a touch nervy. Afraid Jake will scold me, I guess. (Afraid Jake
won’t
scold you,
I
guess.) (Don’t you want us to, Eunice?) (
Yes!
Quit yattering and get on with it.)

“Right away, Joan. Oh, I’m excited myself! Uh, I think I’ll sleep in your bed. If you don’t mind.”

“You know I don’t. But I may come back and wake you, most any time.”

“Don’t mind. If you need a shoulder to cry on, I want to be there. Or maybe just for snuggle.”

“Or I might have something to tell you. You don’t fool me a bit, Winsome. Never mind, I
would
like to find you there when I return, no matter when or why.”

A few minutes later Joan slipped silently into the bedroom of the Green Suite, dropped her clothing without lighting a light, found her way to the bed by Jake’s soft snores. Cautiously she got into bed, felt the radiant warmth of his body close to hers, sighed happily, and went to sleep.

Some indefinite time later Joan felt a hand on her in the dark, came instantly awake. (What?) (General Quarters, twin! It’s
now
.) (I’m scared!) (I’ve taken over, dearest—the body remembers. Say a Money Hum.)

Without a word Jake firmly took possession of her.

(Oh, God, Eunice! Why didn’t you
tell
me?) (Tell you what?) (That for a woman it’s so much
better!
) (Is it?) (Ten times, a
hundred
times—I don’t know; I’m fainting.) (How could
I
guess that it’s better? Kiss him as you faint.)

21

The occupation of the Oklahama State House by the People’s Agrarian Emergency Government continued. The Martian Manned Field Laboratory reported finding artifacts (age 1.4 X 10
⁶
plus/minus 14% years) indicating extinct human-equivalent intelligence. A second report signed by the Chinese members of the expedition denied that the exhibits were artifacts but were simply automatic and instinctive by-products (analogous to coral rings, or to honeycombs) of sub-intelligent life closely related to the anaerobic life now present on Mars. The International Flat Earth Society in annual convention in Surrey, England, passed its usual sanctions on any national government wasting taxpayers’ money on alleged “space travel.”

The suicide rate was up for the nineteenth successive year, as were also rates for death by accident and by violence. World population appreciation passed 300,000 persons per day and continued up, with six babies born every second vs. 2.5 persons dying each second, for a net gain of seven people every two seconds.

A hen in Izard County, Arkansas, laid an egg with the Sign of the Cross on it. A spokesman for the Treasury Department, speaking off the record, announced that the Administration would not push the Administration bill for total abolition of paper currency in favor of universal credit cards and computer accounting. “We must face the fact,” he told the Washington Press Club, “that black market transactions, bribes, and other quasi-legal exchanges are as much part of our economy as is interest on the National Debt, and that to create conditions which would make these voluntary exchanges impractical would bring on a depression the country could not stand. To put it poetically, gentlemen, the small amount of physical currency still in circulation—only a few billions—is our lubricant for the gears of progress. You have my assurance that the President recognizes this truth.”

The First Satanist Church, Inc., (forty-four branches in California, five in other states) brought suit in Federal Court for relief from “discriminatory taxation.” The First Disciple stated:“If other churches aren’t badgered and taxed and investigated concerning their sacred objects, a Glory Hand should enjoy the same protection—that’s American as apple pie!” Reno again repealed its ordinance for licensed prostitution. The City Manager stated that the fees weren’t sufficient to pay the inspectors . . . and besides, there wasn’t all that much commercial prostitution anyhow since the closing of the Federal Youth Training Center.

The Rally for Human Beings gained speed in its drive to fold, spindle, and mutilate computer cards and drop them into the nearest mail box—despite arrests by Postal Inspectors there was almost no cooperation by local police and no jury had brought in a verdict of guilty no matter how compelling the evidence. The Post Office’s Chief Inspector stated that the mutilated cards were almost always bills and that, so far, no mutilated checks or money orders had been reported—and that the government had no great interest in the matter but he was getting damn sick and tired of the country’s mailboxes being used as trash baskets.

The chairman of the Rally for Human Beings answered that the country’s mailboxes had been trash baskets for years and both the Postmaster General and Congress knew why. The traffic computer for downtown Houston went into spastic breakdown during the evening rush hour, leaving thousands of people stranded on the streets overnight; the estimated deaths exceeded seven thousand, including heart stoppage, smog poisoning, and mugging, but excluding suicide. The Southern States Automobile Assurance Companies Trade Association repudiated all claims based on the incident on the theory that deaths or injuries in stationary vehicles were not covered by the (fine print).

The Lunar Colonies dedicated two more superlarge “balanced-aquarium” Food Caves, the
George Washington Carver
and the
Gregor Mendel
, and the Commission again announced an increase in subsidized out-migration quota but again with no relaxation in standards (the injunction against the Commission issued by Mr. Justice Handy of the United States Supreme Court was quietly ignored on the grounds of no jurisdiction). The common stock of Las-Vegas-in-the-Sky continued to move up against the downward trend of the Market: most investment advice peddlers remained bullish basing their expectations on past correlations between weather, the Market, and women’s styles. The Interstellar Advisory Subcommittee to the Lunar Commission settled on Tau Ceti rather than Alpha Centauri for the first attempt. Jodrell Bank lost touch with the Manned Pluto Probe. The (official) casualties in Ukraina dropped below the (official) casualties in Matto Grosso—and in both places the dead did not argue