The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles (18 page)

Epilogue

It felt .good to be home.

Mr. and Mrs. Potter returned on Sunday and Mrs. Potter cooked a delicious evening meal.

Mr. Potter said, "Well, how was your vacation? Did you miss us?"

"The professor gave us a lovely time, but yes, we did miss you," said Ben.

"How's Grandma?" asked Lindy.

"She's much better, darling. She knitted you these pretty slippers." Mrs. Potter handed Lindy a pair of pink woolen slippers with floppy tassels on them.

Lindy gasped in surprise. "Why, they're almost exactly like the Whangdoodle's!" she blurted out.

"The what?" Mrs. Potter looked puzzled.

The telephone rang and Mr. Potter got up to answer it.

Ben nudged Lindy fiercely under the table. He said evenly, "The professor was telling us about a funny creature in olden times that was supposed to grow slippers."

"Is that the creature you were looking up in the dictionary a few weeks ago?"

"Yes." Ben glanced at Tom. The conversation was getting out of hand.

Mrs. Potter began to clear the dishes from the table. "Did you ever find out if it existed or not?"

There was a long pause. Ben stammered, "The—the professor said it was up to us to decide."

Fortunately, it ended there, because Mr. Potter walked excitedly into the room.

"Freda, that was the University on the phone. The most amazing thing has happened. You know all that equipment that was stolen from the laboratory? Well, it has been returned. Every single piece."

"It must have been a student hoax, dear."

"It must have been." Mr. Potter sat down by the fire and opened the Sunday paper. "Fetch my pipe, will you, Tom? Did the professor say anything to you, Ben, about the theft? It was his stuff that was stolen, you know."

"No, sir."

"Hmm. It's very odd. Ah . . . here's a photograph of your friend in the paper. I see he's going to Washington as Special Scientific Adviser to the President. Well, let's hope he does some good."

"Oh, I'm certain he will, Dad," Ben said with a smile.

Mr. Potter frowned. "This work he's doing, this genetics thing. I'm not sure I like the idea. In the final analysis, I wonder if it'll be good for mankind."

Ben felt a sudden tremendous need to communicate with his father.

"Well, whether we like it or not, I think genetics is here to stay, Dad, and it could be the answer to a lot of things." He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. "We will have a tremendous responsibility on our hands. If we're going to play God we must try to do it with honor and decency."

Edwin Potter stared at his son. Then he said quietly, "Ben, you're growing up. Those are very wise remarks and you're absolutely right."

Ben felt a warm glow of happiness at his father's praise. "I . . . I think the professor helped me think it out," he explained.

Mrs. Potter took up her knitting. "Professor. Professor. That's the only word I ever hear," she admonished gently. "Will you ever stop talking about that man, I wonder?"

The children looked at each other.

"Oh, I don't think so," they all answered at exactly the same moment.