by C. L. Moore
But all the time there was something about that magazine that kept nagging at me. I felt itchy inside, like when before they had that big fire in London, some while ago. Quite a spell of sickness they had then, too.
It reminded me of something Grandpaw had told me once, that he'd got the same sort of skitters just before Atlantis foundered. 'Course, Grandpaw kin sort of look into the future—which ain't much good, really, on account of it keeps changing around. I cain't do that myself yet. I ain't growed up enough. But I had a kind of hunch that something real bad was around, only it hadn't happened quite yet.
I almost decided to wake up Grandpaw, I felt so troubled. But around then I heard tromping upstairs, so I clomb up to the kitchen, and there was Yancey, swigging down some corn Maw'd give him. Minute I looked at the old coot, I got that feeling agin.
Yancey said, "Whoosh," put down the jug, and wanted to know if we was ready. So I pointed at the gadget I'd fixed up and said that was it, all right, and what did he think about it?
"That little thing?" Yancey asked. "Ain't you a-gonna call up Old Scratch?"
"Ain't no need," Uncle Les said. "Not with you here, you little water moccasin, you."
Yancey looked right pleased. "That's me," he said. "Mean as a moccasin, and fulla pizen. How does it work?"
"Well," I said, "it sort of splits you up into a lot of Yanceys, is all."
Paw had been setting quiet, but he must of tuned in inside the haid of some perfesser somewheres, on account of he started talking foolish. He don't know any four-bit words hisself.
I wouldn't care to know 'em myself, being as how they only mix up what's simple as cleaning a trout.
"Each human organism," Paw said, showing off like crazy, "is an electromagnetic machine, emitting a pattern of radiations, both from brain and body. By reversing polarity, each unit of you, Yancey, will be automatically attracted to each already existent human unit, since un-likes attract. But first you will step on Saunk's device and your body will be broken down—"
"Hey!" Yancey yelped.
Paw went right on, proud as a peacock.
"—into a basic electronic matrix, which can then be duplicated to the point of infinity, just as a type face may print millions of identical copies of itself in reverse—negative instead of positive.
"Since space is no factor where electronic wave-patterns are concerned, each copy will be instantly attracted to the space occupied by every other person in the world," Paw was going on, till I like to bust. "But since two objects cannot occupy the same space-time, there will be an automatic spacial displacement, and each Yancey-copy will be repelled to approximately two feet away from each human being."
"You forgot to draw a pentagram," Yancey said, looking around nervous-like. "That's the awfullest durn spell I ever heard in all my born days. I thought you said you wasn't gonna call up Old Scratch?"
Maybe it was on account of Yancey was looking oncommon like Old Scratch hisself just then, but I just couldn't stand it no longer—having this funny feeling inside me. So I woke up Grandpaw. I did it inside my haid, the baby helping, so's nobody noticed. Right away there was a stirring in the attic, and Grandpaw heaved hisself around a little and woke up. Next thing I knew he was cussing a blue streak.
Well, the whole family heard that, even though Yancey couldn't. Paw stopped showing off and shet up.
"Dullards!" Grandpaw said, real mad. "Rapscallions! Certes, y-wist it was no wonder I was having bad dreams. Saunk, you've put your foot in it now. Have you no sense of process? Didn't you realize what this caitiff schmo was planning, the stinkard? Get in the groove, Saunk, ere manhood's state shall find thee unprepared." Then he added something in Sanskrit. Living as long as Grandpaw has, he gits mixed up in his talk sometimes.
"Now, Grandpaw," Maw thunk, "what's Saunk been and done?"
"You've all done it!" Grandpaw yelled. "Couldn't you add cause and effect? Saunk, what of the picture y-wrought in Yancey's pulp mag? Wherefore hys sodien change of herte, when obviously the stinkard hath no more honor than a lounge lizard? Do you want the world depopulated before its time? Ask Yancey what he's got in his britches pocket, dang you!"
"Mr. Yancey," I said, "what have you got in your britches pocket?"
"Hey?" he said, reaching down and hauling out a big, rusty monkey wrench. "You mean this? I picked it up back of the shed." He was looking real sly.
"What you aiming to do with that?" Maw asked, quick.
Yancey give us all a mean look. "Ain't no harm telling you," he said. "I aim to hit everybody, every durn soul in the whole, entire world, right smack on top of the haid, and you promised to help me do it."
"Lawks a-mercy," Maw said.
"Yes, siree," Yancey giggled. "When you hex me, I'm a-gonna be in every place everybody else is, standing right behind 'em. I'll whang 'em good. Thataway, I kin be sure I'll git even. One of them people is just bound to be the feller I want, and he'll git what I been owing him for thutty years."
"What feller?" I said. "You mean the one you met up with in New York you was telling me about? I figgered you just owed him some money."
"Never said no sech thing," Yancey snapped. "A debt's a debt, be it money or a bust in the haid. Ain't nobody a-gonna step on my corn and git away with it, thutty years or no thutty years."
"He stepped on your corn?" Paw asked. "That's all he done?"
"Yup. I was likkered up at the time, but I recollect I went down some stairs to where a lot of trains was rushing around under the ground."
"You was drunk."
"I sure was," Yancey said. "Couldn't be no sech thing—trains running underground! But I sure as shooting wasn't dreaming 'bout the feller what stepped on my corn. Why, I kin still feel it. I got mad. It was so crowded I couldn't even move for a mite, and I never even got a good look at the feller what stepped on me.
"By the time I hit out with my stick, he must of got away. Never knew what he looked like. Might have been a female, but that don't signify. I just ain't a-gonna die till I pay my debts and git even with everybody what ever done me dirt. I allus got even with every dang soul what done me wrong, and most everybody I ever met did."
Riled up a whole lot was Yancey Tarbell. He went right on from there:
"So I figgered, since I never found out just who this feller was what stepped on my corn, I better make downright sure and take a lick at everybody, man, woman, and child."
"Now you hold your hosses," I said. "Ain't no children could have been alive thutty years ago, an' you know it."
"Makes no difference," Yancey snapped. "I was a-thinking, and I got an awful idea: suppose that feller went and died. Thutty years is a long time. But then I figgered, even if he did up and die, chances are he got married and had kids fust. If'n I can't git even with him, I kin get even with his children. The sins of the father—that's Scripture. If'n I hit everybody in the world, I can't go fur wrong."
"You ain't hitting no Hogbens," Maw said. "None of us been in New York since afore you was born. I mean, we ain't never been there. So you kin just leave us out of it. How'd you like to git a million dollars instead? Or maybe you want to git young again or something like that? We kin fix that for you instead, if you'll give up this here wicked idea."
"I ain't a-gonna," Yancey said, stubborn. "You give your gospel word to help me."
"Well, we ain't bound to keep a promise like that," Maw said, but then Grandpaw chimed in from the attic.
"The Hogben word is sacred," he told us. "It's our bond. We must keep our promise to this booby. But, having kept it, we are not bound further."
"Oh?" I said, sort of gitting a thought. "That being the case—Mr. Yancey, just what did we promise, exact?"
He waved the monkey wrench at me.
"I'm a-gonna git split up into as many people as they are people in the world, and I'm a-gonna be standing right beside all of 'em. You give your word to help me do that. Don't you try to wiggle out of it."
"I ain't wiggling," I said. "Only we better git it cle
ar, so's you'll be satisfied and won't have no kick coming. One thing, though. You got to be the same size as everybody you visit."
"Hey?"
"I kin fix it easy. When you step on this here gadget, there'll be two billion, two hunnerd fifty million, nine hunnered and fifty-nine thousand, nine hunnered and twenty Yanceys all over the world. S'posin', now, one of these here Yanceys finds himself standing next to a big feller seven feet tall. That wouldn't be so good, would it?"
"I want to be eight feet high," Yancey said.
"No, sir. The Yancey who goes to visit a feller that high is a-gonna be just that high hisself, exactly. And the one who visits a baby only two feet high is a-gonna be only two feet high hisself. What's fair's fair. You agree to that, or it's all off. Only other thing, you'll be just exactly as strong as the feller you're up again'."
I guess he seen I was firm. He hefted the monkey wrench.
"How'll I git back?" he asked.
"We'll take care of that," I said. "I'll give you five seconds. That's long enough to swing a monkey wrench, ain't it?"
"It ain't very long."
"If'n you stay longer, somebody might hit back."
"So they might," he said, turning pale under the dirt. "Five seconds is plenty."
"Then if'n we do just that, you'll be satisfied? You won't have no kick coming?"
He swung the monkey wrench and laughed.
"Suits me fine and dandy," he said. "I'll bust their haids good. Heh, heh, heh."
"Then you step right on here," I said, showing him. "Wait a mite, though. I better try it fust, to make sure it works right."
I picked up a stick of firewood from the box by the stone and winked at Yancey. "You git set," I said. "The minute I git back, you step right on here."
Maw started to say something, but all of a sudden Grandpaw started laughing in the attic. I guess he was looking into the future again.
I stepped on the gadget, and it worked slick as anything. Afore I could blink, I was split up into two billion, two hunnerd and fifty million, nine hunnerd and fifty-nine thousand, nine hunnerd and nineteen Saunk Hogbens.
There was one short, o' course, on account of I left out Yancey, and o' course the Hogbens ain't listed in no census. But here I was, standing right in front of everybody in the whole, entire world except the Hogben fam'ly and Yancey hisself. It was plumb onreasonable.
Never did I know there was so many faces in this world! They was all colors, some with whiskers, some without, some with clothes on, some naked as needles, some awful big and some real short, and half of them was in daylight and half was in the nighttime. I got downright dizzy.
For just a flash, I thought I could make out some of the people I knowed down in Piperville, including the Sheriff, but he got mixed up with a lady in a string of beads who was casing a kangaroo-critter, and she turned into a man dressed up fit to kill who was speechifyin' in a big room somewheres.
My, I was dizzy.
I got ahold of myself and it was about time, too, for just about then near everybody in the whole world noticed me. 'Course, it must have looked like I'd popped out of thin air, right in front of them, real sudden, and—well, you ever had near two billion, two hunnerd and fifty million, nine hunnerd and fifty-nine thousand, nine hunnerd and nineteen people looking you right square in the eye? It's just awful. I forgot what I'd been intending. Only I sort of heard Grandpaw's voice telling me to hurry up.
So I pushed that stick of firewood I was holding, only now it was two billion, two hunnerd and fifty million, nine hunnerd and fifty-nine thousand, nine hunnerd and nineteen sticks, into just about the same number of hands and let go. Some of the people let go too, but most of 'em held on to it. Then I tried to remember the speech I was a-gonna make, telling 'em to git in the fust lick at Yancey afore he could swing that monkey wrench.
But I was too confounded. It was funny. Having all them people looking right at me made me so downright shy, I couldn't even open my mouth. What made it worse was that Grandpaw yelled I had only one second left, so there wasn't even time to make a speech. In just one second, I was a-gonna flash back to our kitchen, and then old Yancey was all ready to jump in the gadget and swing that monkey wrench. And I hadn't warned nobody. All I'd done was give everybody a little old stick of firewood.
My, how they stared! I felt plumb naked. Their eyes bugged right out. And just as I started to thin out around the edges like a biscuit, I—well, I don't know what come over me. I guess it was feeling so oncommon shy. Maybe I shouldn't of done it, but—
I done it!
Then I was back in the kitchen. Grandpaw was laughing fit to kill in the attic. The old gentleman's got a funny kind of sense of humor, I guess. I didn't have no time for him then, though, for Yancey jumped past me and into the gadget. And he disappeared into thin air, the way I had. Split up, like I'd been, into as many people as there was in the world, and standing right in front of 'em.
Maw and Paw and Uncle Les was looking at me real hard. I sort of shuffled.
"I fixed it," I said. "Seems like a man who's mean enough to hit little babies over the haid deserves what he's"—I stopped and looked at the gadget—"what he's been and got," I finished, on account of Yancey had tumbled out of thin air, and a more whupped-up old rattlesnake I never seen. My!
Well, I guess purty near everybody in the whole world had took a whang at Mr. Yancey. He never even had a chance to swing that monkey wrench. The whole world had got in the fust lick.
Yes, siree. Mr. Yancey looked plumb ruined.
But he could still yell. You could of heard him a mile off. He kept screaming that he'd been cheated. He wanted another chance, and this time he was taking his shooting iron and a bowie knife. Finally Maw got disgusted, took him by the collar, and shook him up till his teeth rattled.
"Quoting Scripture!" she said, madlike. "You little dried-up scraggle of downright pizen! The Good Book says an eye for an eye, don't it? We kept our word, and there ain't nobody kin say different."
"That's the truth, certes," Grandpaw chimed in from the attic.
"You better go home and git some arnicy," Maw said, shaking Yancey some more. "And don't you come round here no more, never again, or we'll set the baby on you."
"But I didn't git even!" Yancey squalled.
"I guess you ain't a-gonna, ever," I said. "You just cain't live long enough to git even with everybody in the whole world, Mr. Yancey."
By and by, that seemed to strike Yancey all in a heap. He turned a rich color like beet soup, made a quacking noise, and started cussing. Uncle Les reached for the poker, but there wasn't no need.
"The whole dang world done me wrong!" Yancey squealed, and clapped his hands to his haid. "I been flummoxed! Why in tarnation did they hit me fust? "There's something funny about—"
"Hush up," I said, all of a sudden realizing the trouble wasn't over, like I'd thought. "Listen, anybody hear anything from the village?"
Even Yancey shet up whilst we listened. "Don't hear a thing," Maw said.
"Saunk's right," Grandpaw put in. "That's what's wrong."
Then everybody got it—that is, everybody except Yancey. Because about now there ought to of been quite a rumpus down at Piperville. Don't fergit me and Yancey went visiting the whole world, which includes Piperville, and people don't take a thing like that quiet. There ought to of been some yelling going on, at least.
"What are you all standing round dumb as mutes for?" Yancey busted out. "You got to help me git even!"
I didn't pay him no mind. I sat down and studied the gadget. After a minute I seen what it was I'd done wrong. I guess Grandpaw seen it about as quick as I did. You oughta heard him laugh. I hope it done the old gentleman good. He has a right peculiar sense of humor sometimes.
"I sort of made a mistake in this gadget, Maw," I said. "That's why it's so quiet down in Piperville."
"Aye, by my troth," Grandpaw said, still laughing. "Saunk had best seek cover. Twenty-three skiddoo, kid."
"You done some
thing you shouldn't, Saunk?" Maw said.
"Blabber, blabber, blabber!" Yancey yelled. "I want my rights! I want to know what it was Saunk done that made everybody in the world hit me over the haid! He must of done something. I never had no time to—"
"Now you leave the boy alone, Mr. Yancey," Maw said. "We done what we promised, and that's enough. You git outa here and simmer down afore you say something you regret."
Paw winked at Uncle Les, and before Yancey could yell back at Maw the table sort of bent its legs down like they had knees in 'em and snuck up behind Yancey real quiet. Then Paw said to Uncle Les, "All together now, let 'er go," and the table straightened up its legs and give Yancey a terrible bunt that sent him flying out the door.
The last we heard of Yancey was the whoops he kept letting out whenever he hit the ground all the way down the hill. He rolled half the way to Piperville, I found out later. And when he got there he started hitting people over the haid with his monkey wrench.
I guess he figgered he might as well make a start the hard way.
They put him in jail for a spell to cool off, and I guess he did, 'cause afterward he went back to that little shack of his'n. I hear he don't do nothing but set around with his lips moving, trying to figger a way to git even with the hull world. I don't calc'late he'll ever hit on it, though.
At that time, I wasn't paying him much mind. I had my own troubles. As soon as Paw and Uncle Les got the table back in place, Maw lit into me again.
"Tell me what happened, Saunk," she said. "I'm a-feared you done something wrong when you was in that gadget. Remember you're a Hogben, son. You got to behave right when the whole world's looking at you. You didn't go and disgrace us in front of the entire human race, did you, Saunk?"
Grandpaw laughed agin. "Not yet, he hasn't," he said.
Then down in the basement I heard the baby give a kind of gurgle and I knowed he could see it too. That's surprising, kinda, We never know for sure about the baby. I guess he really kin see a little bit into the future too.