Farnham's Freehold

by Robert A. Heinlein

  “Well, whoever did it, it’s lovely. Now we’ll see if it will take my weight.”

  “Oh, it will!” Barbara said proudly.

  The shelter had all lights burning. Have to caution them about batteries, too. Must tell the girls to look up how to make candles. “Where’s Grace, Karen?”

  “Mother isn’t well. She’s lying down.”

  “So? You had better start dinner.” Hugh went into the women’s bay, saw what sort of not-well his wife suffered. She was sleeping heavily, mouth open, snoring, and was fully dressed. He reached down, peeled back an eyelid; she did not stir. “Duke.”

  “Yes?”

  “Come here. Everybody else outside.”

  Duke joined him. Hugh said, “After lunch, did you give Grace a drink?”

  “Huh? You didn’t say not to.”

  “I wasn’t criticizing. How much?”

  “Just a highball. An ounce and a half of Scotch, with water.”

  “Does that look like one highball? Try to rouse her.”

  Duke tried, then straightened up. “Dad, I know you think I’m a fool. But I gave her just one drink. Damn it, I’m more opposed to her drinking than you are!”

  “Take it easy, Duke. I assume that she got at the bottle after you left.”

  “Well, maybe.” Duke frowned. “As soon as I found an unbroken bottle I gave Mother that drink. Then I took inventory. I think I found it all, unless you have some hidden away—”

  “No, the cases were together. Six cases.”

  “Right. I found thirteen unbroken bottles, twelve fifths and a quart of bourbon. I remember thinking that was two fifths each and the quart I would keep in reserve. I had opened one bottle of King’s Ransom. I made a pencil mark on it. We’ll know if she found it.”

  “You hid the liquor?”

  “I stashed it in the upper bunk on the other side; I figured it would be hard for her to climb up there—I’m not a complete fool, Dad. She couldn’t see me, she was in her bunk. But maybe she guessed.”

  “Let’s check.”

  Thirteen bottles were between springs and mattress; twelve were unopened, the thirteenth was nearly full. Duke held it up. “See? Right to the line. But there was another bottle we had a snort from, after that second bombing. What happened to it?”

  “Barbara and I had some after you went to sleep, Duke. There was some left. I never saw it again. It was in the tank room.”

  “Oh! I did, while we were bailing. Busted. I give up—where did she get it?”

  “She didn’t, Duke.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It wasn’t liquor.” Hugh went to the medicines drawer, got a bottle with a broken seal. “Count these Seconal capsules. You had two last night.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Karen had one at bedtime, one later; Joe had one. Neither Barbara nor I had any, nor Grace. Five.”

  “Hold it, I’m counting.”

  His father began to count as Duke pushed them aside.

  “Ninety-one,” Duke announced.

  “Check.” Hugh put the capsules back. “So she took four.”

  “What do we do, Dad? Stomach pump? Emetic?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Why, you heartless—She tried to kill herself!”

  “Slow down, Duke. She did nothing of the sort. Four capsules, six grains, simply produces stupor in a healthy person—and she’s healthy as a horse; she had a physical a month ago. No, she snitched those pills to get drunk on.” Hugh scowled. “An alcohol drunk is bad enough. But people kill themselves without meaning to with sleeping pills.”

  “Dad, what do you mean, ‘she took them to get drunk on’?”

  “You don’t use them?”

  “I never had one in my life until those two last night.”

  “Do you remember how you felt just before you went to sleep? Warm and happy and woozy?”

  “No. I just lay down and konked out. Next thing I knew I was against the wall on my shoulders.”

  “You haven’t developed tolerance for them. Grace knows what they can do. Drunk, a very happy drunk. I’ve never known her to take more than one but she’s never been chopped off from liquor before. When a person eats sleeping pills because he can’t get liquor, he’s in a bad way.”

  “Dad, you should have kept liquor away from her long ago!”

  “How, Duke? Tell her she couldn’t have a drink? Take them away from her at parties? Quarrel with her in public? Fight with her in front of Joe? Not let her have cash, close out her bank account, see that she had no credit? Would that have stopped her from pawning furs?”

  “Mother would never have done that.”

  “It’s typical behavior in such cases. Duke, it is impossible to keep liquor away from any adult who is determined to have it. The United States Government wasn’t that powerful. I’ll go further. It is impossible for anyone to be responsible for another person’s behavior. I spoke of myself as ‘responsible’ for this group; that was verbal shorthand. The most I can do—or you, or any leader—is to encourage each one to be responsible for himself.”

  Hugh chewed his thumb and looked anguished. “Perhaps my mistake was in letting her loaf. But she considered me stingy because I let her have only a houseboy and a cleaning woman. Duke, do you see anything I could have done short of beating her?”

  “Uh…that’s beside the point. What do we do now?”

  “So it is, counselor. Well, we keep these pills away from her.”

  “And I’m damned well going to chop off the liquor completely!”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t.”

  “You wouldn’t, eh? Did I hear correctly when you said I was liquor boss?”

  “The decision is up to you. I simply said that I wouldn’t. I think it’s a mistake.”

  “Well, I don’t. Dad, I won’t go into the matter of whether you could, or should, have stopped Mother from getting the way she is. But I intend to stop it.”

  “Very well, Duke. Mmm, she’s going to be cut off anyhow in a matter of days. It might be easier to taper her off. If you decide to, I’ll contribute a bottle from my share. Hell, you can have both of mine. I like a snort as well as the next man. But Grace needs it.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” his son said crisply. “I’m not going to let her have any. Get it over with, she’ll be well that much sooner.”

  “Your decision. May I offer a suggestion?”

  “What?”

  “In the morning, be up before she is. Move the liquor out and bury it, someplace known only to you. Then have open one bottle at a time and dispense it by the ounce. Tell the others to drink where she can’t see it. You had better ditch the open bottle outdoors, too.”

  “Sounds reasonable.”

  “But that makes it all the more urgent to keep sleeping pills away from her.”

  “Bury them?”

  “No. We need them inside, and it’s not just sleeping pills. Demerol. Hypodermic needles. Several drugs, some poisonous and some addictive and all irreplaceable. If she can’t find Seconal—five bottles of a hundred each, it’s bulky—there’s no telling what she might get into. We’ll use the vault.”

  “Eh?”

  “A little safe let into concrete back of that cupboard. Nothing in it but birth certificates and such, and some reserve ammo, and two thousand silver dollars. Toss the money in with the hardware, we’ll use it as metal. The combo is ‘July 4th, 1776’—‘74-17-76.’ Better change it, Grace may know it.”

  “At once!”

  “No rush, she won’t wake up. ‘Reserve ammo—’ Duke, you were liquor and cigarette boss and now you are drugs boss. I’m going whole hog, you are rationing officer. Responsible for everything that can’t be replaced: liquor, tobacco, ammunition, nails, toilet tissue, matches, dry cells, Kleenex, needles—”

  “Good God! Got any more dirty jobs?”

  “Lots of them. Duke, I’m trying to make it each according to his talents. Joe is too diffident—and he missed obvious economies today. K
aren doesn’t think ahead. Barbara feels like a freeloader even though she’s not, she wouldn’t crack down. I would, but I’m swamped. You are a natural for it; you don’t hesitate to assert yourself. And you have foresight when you take the trouble to use it.”

  “Thank you too much. All right.”

  “The hardest thing to drill into them will be saving every scrap of metal and paper and cloth and lumber, things Americans have wasted for years. Fishhooks. Groceries aren’t as important; we’ll replace them, you by hunting, Barbara by gardening. Nevertheless, better note what can’t be replaced. Salt. You must ration salt especially.”

  “Salt?”

  “Unless you run across a salt lick in hunting. Salt—Damn it, we’re going to have to tan leather. All I used to do with a hide was rub it with salt and give it to the taxidermist. Is salt necessary?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll look it up. Damnation, we’re going to find that I failed to stock endless things we’ll be miserable without.”

  “Dad,” Duke admitted, “I think you’ve done mighty well.”

  “So? That’s pleasant to hear. We’ll manage to—”

  “Daddy!”

  “Yes?” Hugh went to the tank room. Karen’s head stuck up out of the manhole.

  “Daddy, can we please come in? It’s dark and scary and something big chased Doc in. Joe won’t let us until you say.”

  “Sorry, Baby. Everybody come in. And we’ll put the lid on.”

  “Yes, sir. But, Daddy, you ought to look outside. Stars. The Milky Way like a neon sign! And the Big Dipper—so maybe this isn’t another planet? Or would we still see the Big Dipper?”

  “I’m not certain.” He recalled that the discovery that they were still in James County, Mountain Springs area, had not been shared. But Duke must tell it; it was his deduction. “Duke, want to take a look before we close up?”

  “Thanks, I’ve seen a star.”

  “As you wish.” Hugh went outside, waited while his eyes adjusted, saw that Karen was right: Never before had he seen the heavens on a clear mountain night with no other light, nor trace of smog, to dim its glory.

  “Beautiful!”

  Karen slipped her hand into his. “Yes,” she agreed. “But I could use some streetlights. There are things out there. And we heard coyotes.”

  “There are bears and Duke saw a mountain lion. Joe, better keep the cat in at night, and try to keep him close in the daytime.”

  “He won’t go far, he’s timid. And something just taught him a lesson.”

  “And me, too!” announced Karen. “Bears! Come, Barbie, let’s go in. Daddy, if the Moon comes up, this must be Earth—and I’ll never trust a comic book again.”

  “Go ask your brother.”

  Duke’s discovery was the main subject at dinner. Karen’s disappointment was offset by her interest in how they had mislaid Mountain Springs. “Duke, are you sure you saw what you thought you saw?”

  “No possible mistake,” Hugh answered for him. “If it weren’t for the trees, you could have spotted it. We had to climb Reservoir Hill to get a clear view.”

  “You were gone all that time just to Reservoir Hill? Why, that’s only five minutes away!”

  “Duke, explain to your sister about automobiles.”

  “I think the bomb did it,” Barbara said suddenly.

  “Why, certainly, Barb. The question is how?”

  “I mean the enormous H-bomb the Russians claimed to have in orbit. The one they called the ‘Cosmic Bomb.’ I think it hit us.”

  “Go on, Barbara.”

  “Well, the first bomb was awful and the second one was bad; they almost burned us up. But the third one just hit us whammy! and then no noise, no heat, no rumbling, and the radioactivity got less instead of worse. Here’s my notion: You’ve heard of parallel worlds? A million worlds side by side, almost alike but not quite? Worlds where Elizabeth married Essex and Mark Anthony hated redheads? And Ben Franklin got electrocuted with his kite? Well, this is one.”

  “First automobiles and now Benjamin Franklin. I’ll go watch Ben Casey.”

  “Like this, Karen. The Cosmic Bomb hits us, dead on—and kicks us into the next world. One exactly like the one we were in, except that it never had men in it.”

  “I’m not sure I like a world with no men. I’d rather have a strange planet, with warlords riding thoats. Or is it zitidars?”

  “What do you think of my theory, Hugh?”

  “I’m keeping an open mind. I’ll go this far: We should not count on finding other human beings.”

  “I go for your theory, Barbara,” Duke offered. “It accounts for the facts. Squeezed out like a melon seed. Pht!”

  “And we landed here.”

  Duke shrugged. “Let it be known as the Barbara Wells Theory of Cosmic Transportation and stand adopted. Here we are; we’re stuck with it—and I’m going to bed. Who sleeps where, Hugh?”

  “Just a second. Folks, meet the Rationing Officer. Take a bow, Duke.” Hugh explained the austerity program. “Duke will work it out but that’s the idea. For example, I noticed a bent nail on the ground in the powder room. That calls for being spread-eagled and flogged. For a serious offense, such as wasting a match, it’s keelhauling. Second offense—hang him at the yardarm!”

  “Gee! Do we get to watch?”

  “Shut up, Karen. No punishments, just the miserable knowledge that you have deprived the rest of something necessary to life, health, or comfort. So don’t give Duke any back talk. I want to make another assignment. Baby, you know shorthand.”

  “That’s putting it strongly. Mr. Gregg wouldn’t think so.”

  “Hugh, I take shorthand. What do you want?”

  “Okay, Barbara, you are historian. Today is Day One. Or start with the calendar we are used to, but we may adjust it; those were winter stars. Every night jot down the events and put it in longhand later. Your title is Keeper of the Flame. As soon as possible, you really will be Keeper of the Flame; we will have to light a fire, then bank it every night. Sorry to have held you up, Duke.”

  “I’ll sleep in the tank room, Hugh. You take a bunk.”

  “Wait a minute. Buddy, would you stay up ten minutes longer? Daddy, could Barbara and I use the tank room for a spit bath? May we have that much water? A girl who digs privies needs a bath.”

  “Sure, Sis,” Duke agreed.

  “Water is no problem,” Hugh told her. “But you can bathe in the stream in the morning. Just one thing: Whenever anyone is bathing, someone should stand guard. I wasn’t fooling about bears.”

  Karen shivered. “I didn’t think you were. But that reminds me, Daddy—Do we dash out to the powder room? Or hold it all night? I’m not sure I can. But I’ll try—rather than play tag with bears!”

  “I thought the toilet was still set up?”

  “Well… I thought, with brand-new outside plumbing—”

  “Of course not.”

  “I feel better. Okay, buddy boy, give Barb and me a crack at the john and you can go to bed.”

  “No bath?”

  “If we bathe, we can bathe in the girls’ dorm after the rest of you go to bed. Thereby sparing your blushes.”

  “I don’t blush.”

  “You should.”

  “Hold it,” interrupted Hugh. “We need a ‘No Blushing’ rule. Here we are crowded worse than a Moscow apartment. Do you know the Japanese saying about nakedness?”

  “I know they bathe in company,” said Karen, “and I would be happy to join them. Hot water! Oh, boy!”

  “They say, ‘Nakedness is often seen but never looked at.’ I’m not urging you to parade around in skin. But we should quit being jumpy. If you come in to change clothes and find that there is no privacy—why, just change. Or take bathing in the stream. The person available to guard might not be the sex of the person who wants the bath. So ignore it.” He looked at Joseph. “I mean you. I suspect you’re a sissy about it.”

  Joe looked stubborn. “That’s th
e way I was brought up, Hugh.”

  “So? I wasn’t brought up this way either, but I’m trying to make the best of it. After a sweaty day’s work it might be that Barbara is the one available to stand bear watch for you.”

  “I’ll take my chances. I didn’t see any bears.”

  “Joe, I don’t want any nonsense. You’re my deputy.”

  “I didn’t ask to be.”

  “Nor will you be, if you don’t change your tune. You’ll bathe when you need it and you’ll accept guard service from anybody.”

  Joe looked stubborn. “No, thank you.”

  Hugh Farnham sighed. “I didn’t expect damfoolishness from you, Joe. Duke, will you back me? ‘Condition seven,’ I mean.”

  “Deelighted!” Duke grabbed the rifle he had carried earlier, started to load it. Joe’s chin dropped but he did not move.

  “Hold it, Duke. Guns won’t be necessary. That’s all, Joe. Just the clothes you were wearing last night. Not clothes we stored for you, I paid for those. Nothing else, not even matches. You can change in the tank room; it was your modesty you insisted on saving. But your life is your problem. Get moving.”

  Joseph said slowly, “Mr. Farnham, do you really mean that?”

  “Were those real bullets in that gun you aimed at Duke? You helped me clamp down on him; you heard me clamp down on my wife. Can I pull on them anything that rough—and let you get away with it? Good God, I’d get it from the girls next. Then the group would fall apart and die. I’d rather it was just you. You have two minutes to say good-bye to Dr. Livingstone. But leave the cat here; I don’t want it eaten.”

  Dr. Livingstone was in the Negro’s lap. Joe got slowly to his feet, still holding it. He seemed dazed.

  Hugh added, “Unless you prefer to stay.”

  “I can?”

  “On the same terms as the rest.”

  Two tears rolled down Joe’s cheeks. He looked down at the cat and stroked it, then answered in a low voice, “I would like to stay. I agree.”

  “Good. Confirm it by apologizing to Barbara.”

  Barbara looked startled. She appeared to be about to speak, then to think better of it.

  “Uh… Barbara. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right, Joe.”