Exile from Space

by Judith Merril

stopped to think of it--similar to whatmost of the women I'd seen that day were wearing, and of course theyweren't subject to the same problems of dirtying and wrinkling andsuch as the clothes in the store were.

  I walked around for a while, trying to figure out what all thedifferent items, shapes, sizes, and colors, were for. Some racks andcounters had signs, but most of them were unfamiliar words like_brunchies_, or _Bermudas_ or _scuffs_; or else they seemed to bemislabeled, like _dusters_ for a sort of button-down dress, and_Postage Stamp Girdles_ at one section of a long counter devoted to"Foundation Garments." For half an hour or so, I wandered around inthere, shaking my head every time a saleswoman came up to me, becauseI didn't know, and couldn't figure out, what to ask for, or how to askfor it.

  The thing was, I didn't dare draw too much attention to myself bydoing or saying the wrong things. I'd have to find out more aboutclothes, somehow, before I could do much buying.

  I went out, and on the same block I found a show-window full ofsuitcases. That was easy. I went in and pointed to one I liked, andpaid for it, and walked out with it, feeling a little braver. Afterall, nobody had to know there was nothing in it. On the corner, I sawsome books displayed in the window of a drug store. It took all thecourage I had to go in there, after my first trip into one that lookedvery much like it, but I wanted a dictionary. This place didn't smellquite so strong; I suppose the pharmacy was enclosed in back, and Idon't believe it had a lunch counter. Anyhow, I got in and outquickly, and walked back to the car, and sat down with the dictionary.

  It turned out to be entirely useless, at least as far as _brunchies_and _Bermudas_ were concerned. It had "scuff, v.," with a definition;"v.," I found out, meant _verb_, so that wasn't the word I wanted, butwhen I remembered the slippers on the counter with the sign, it madesense in a way.

  Not enough sense, though. I decided to forget about the clothes for awhile. The next problem was a driver's license.

  The policeman that morning had been helpful, if over-interested, andsince policemen directed traffic, they ought to have the information Iwanted. I found one of them standing on a streetcorner looking not toobusy, and asked him, and if his hair hadn't been brown instead ofreddish (and only half there) I'd have thought it was the same one Italked to before. He wanted to know how old I was, and where was Ifrom, and what I was doing there, and did I have a car, and was I_sure_ I was nineteen?

  Well, of course, I wasn't sure, but they'd told me that by the localreckoning, that was my approximate age. And I almost slipped and saidI _had_ a car, until I realized that I didn't have a right to driveone till I had a license. After he asked that one question, I began tofeel suspicious about everything else he asked, and the interest heexpressed. He was helpful, but I had to remember too, that it was thepolice who were charged with watching for suspicious characters,and--well, it was the last time I asked a policeman for information.

  He _did_ tell me where I could rent a car to take my road test,though, and where to apply for the test. The Courthouse turned out tobe the big building behind the square where I'd parked the car thatmorning, and arranging for the test turned out to be much simplerthan, by then, I expected it to be. In a way, I suppose, all thequestions I had to answer when I talked to the policeman had preparedme for the official session--though they didn't seem nearly soinquisitive there.

  By this time, I'd come to expect that they wouldn't believe my agewhen I told them. The woman at the window behind the counter wanted tosee a "birth certificate," and I produced the one piece ofidentification I had; an ancient and yellowed document they had keptfor me all these years. From the information it contained, I suspectedit might even _be_ a birth certificate; whether or not, it apparentlysatisfied her, and after that all she wanted was things like myaddress and height and weight. Fortunately, they had taken thetrouble, back on the ship, to determine these statistics for me,because things like that were always coming up on television shows,especially when people were being questioned by the police. For theaddress, of course, I used the motel. The rest I knew, and I guess wehad the figures close enough to right so that at least the womandidn't question any of it.

  I had my road test about half an hour later, in a rented car, and theexaminer said I did very well. He seemed surprised, and I don'twonder, considering the way most of those people contrive to mismanagea simple mechanism like an automobile. I guess when they say Earth isstill in the Mechanical Age, what they mean is that humans are just_learning_ about machines.

  * * * * *

  The biggest single stroke of luck I had at any time came during thatroad test. We passed a public-looking building with a sign in frontthat I didn't understand.

  "What's that place?" I asked the examiner, and he said, as if anyonewould know what he meant, "That? Oh--the Library."

  I looked it up in my dictionary as soon as I was done at the LicenseBureau, and when I found out what it was, everything became a greatdeal simpler.

  There was a woman who worked there, who showed me, without anysurprise at my ignorance, just how the card catalogue worked, and whatthe numbering system meant; she didn't ask me how old I was, or anyother questions, or demand any proof of any kind to convince her I hada right to use the place. She didn't even bother me much withquestions about what I was looking for. I told her there were a _lot_of things I wanted to know, and she seemed to think that was a goodanswer, and said if she could help me any way, not to hesitate to ask,and then she left me alone with those drawers and drawers full ofletter-and-number keys to all the mysteries of an alien world.

  I found a book on how to outfit your daughter for college, thatstarted with underwear and worked its way through to jewelry andcosmetics. I also found a whole shelf full of law books, and in one ofthem, specific information about the motor vehicle regulations indifferent States. There was a wonderful book about diamonds and otherprecious stones, particularly fascinating because it went into thechemistry of the different stones, and gave me the bestmeasuring-stick I found at any time to judge the general level oftechnology of that so-called Mechanical Age.

  That was all I had time for, I couldn't believe it was so late, whenthe librarian came and told me they were closing up, and I guess mydisappointment must have showed all over me, because she asked if Iwouldn't like to have a card, so I could take books home?

  I found out all I needed to get a card was identification. I wassupposed to have a reference, too, but the woman said she thoughtperhaps it would be all right without one, in my case. And then, whenI wanted to take a volume of the Encyclopedia Americana, she said theydidn't usually circulate that, but if I thought I could bring it backwithin a day or two....

  I promised to, and I never did, and out of everything that happened,that's the one thing I feel badly about. I think she must have been avery unusual and _good_ sort of woman, and I wish I had kept mypromise to her.

  * * * * *

  Some of the stores downtown were still open. I bought the things I'd beexpected to have, as near as I could make out from the book on collegegirls: panties and a garter belt and a brassiere, and stockings. A slipand another blouse, and a coat, because even in the early evening it wasbeginning to get chilly. Then the salesgirl talked me into gloves and ascarf and some earrings. I was halfway back to the car when I rememberedabout night clothes, and went back for a gown and robe and slippers. Thatdidn't begin to complete the college girls' list, but it seemed like agood start. I'd need a dress, too, I thought, if I ever did go out withLarry in the evening ... but that could wait.

  I put everything into the suitcase, and drove back to the motel. Onthe way, I stopped at a food store, and bought a large container ofmilk, and some crackers, and some fruit--oranges and bananas andapples. Back in my room, I put everything away in the drawers, andthen sat down with my book and my food, and had a wonderful time. Iwas hungry, and everything tasted good, away from the dead meatsmells, and what with clothes in the drawers and everything, I wasbeginning to feel like
a real Earth-girl.

  I even took a bath in the bathroom.

  A good long one. Next to the library, that's the thing I miss most. Itwould be even better, if they made the tubs bigger, so you could swimaround some. But just getting wet all over like that, and splashing inthe water, is fun. Of course, we could never spare enough water forthat on the ship.

  Altogether, it was a good evening; everything was fine until I triedto sleep in that bed. I felt as if I was being suffocated all over.The floor was almost as bad, but in a different way. And once I got tosleep, I guess I slept well enough, because I felt fine in themorning. But then, I think I must have been on a mild oxygen jag allthe time I was down there; nothing seemed to bother me too much. Thatmorning, I felt so good I worked up my courage to go into arestaurant again--a different one. The smell was