by Lewis Parker
said, "You can't--project her?"
Willy started to answer, but Red interrupted. She looked piqued.
"Of course he can't project me. That would be a distortion of myself. Itwouldn't," she yawned, ruffling her red locks, "be me."
I rubbed my head again. I couldn't think of anything to say.
Willy shifted. "I can draw her smaller," he said. "But that would makeit even worse, of course."
I nodded. "Of course." Because it seemed practical to say it, I said it:"But wouldn't that be a distortion too?"
"Of course not," Red said, and I had the fleeting impression of beingfaced by a school teacher in the minute end of a telescope. "Minimizedelements are true elements, merely condensed. Maximized elements arebloated, therefore distorted." She sniffed. "Any figment knows that."
I tossed it around in my floundering mind, but it still came out the wayit sounded. There was another silence. I could see that the two of themwere losing faith in my godmaternal fairyhood. So just to keep theconversation jogging, I tried another tack. To Willy I said:
"If Red's a figment of your imagination, why didn't you imagine her amore practical size in the first place?"
* * * * *
Willy chewed on it for a couple minutes. Red turned away in disgust toleap from my kneecap to Willy's. She seated herself primly and beganfussing with her infinitesimal nails. Willy said, "After all, she doeshave a mind of her own, Jim. She wanted to be imagined the size she is,so--" He looked at me and shrugged.
"Why," demanded the little woman, "should I go up to him? Why can't hecome down to me?"
I was getting riled. "You love him, don't you?"
She frowned. "He loves me, doesn't he?"
This had a familiar feminine ring to it which balked pursuit of _that_subject. I wouldn't have believed that Willy possessed such a dogmaticobjective imagination. If _I_ wanted to conjure up a babe I'd make surebeforehand that she came out the way I whimmed her. Red had a mind ofher own, which was the negative, or feminine, part of Willy's mind.
All these thoughts popped up in my head because I had to keep this in apractical light to insure against a return of the shakes. If I startedconsidering the _impractical_ side of it I'd recognize it in its truelight, which was unmitigated madness.
Willy and Red remained silent, inferring that I was to carry the ball.
"What I'm dim about, Willy, is how this ties in with your professionallivelihood. Why do you have to give up art?"
"Isn't it obvious?"
I shook my head meekly. Willy sighed and reached for a pastel stick. Hesketched quickly on the layout pad, first in greys, then filling in withthe three basics. It was a martini glass, and the first basic was thecherry in it. Then he addressed his signature under the sketch.
He picked up the martini glass and drained it.
Looking apologetically at my ogle he picked up the pastels again andsaid, "Sorry. Care for one?"
I said sure. You have to go all the way or nowhere with these things.Besides, a drink might stop the rumbling in my stomach. "Make it a rye,"I said. "Triple."
He sketched it and signed it and handed it to me, and I said, "I seewhat you mean. Everything you sketch, huh?" The rye was good.
Willy sighed morosely. "Anything in color. And I made my name in colorwork. I can't do a black and white for beans."
"Why don't you--"
"Leave off my signature?" He smiled wanly. "You know better than that,Jim."
I did. He had a big name, and that, as is the way of commerce, is whatthe buyers paid for. Things looked hopeless for Willy. We sat. Red gotup and stretched, then adjusted her halter, into which Willy had put toomuch imagination. She jumped from Willy's knee to the drawing desk, andstretched out on the pad. Willy looked at her hungrily, and she smiledwarmly back at him. I was beginning to get that "third party"feeling--and then it hit me.
I leaned forward excitedly. "We will make a million!" I roared.
They stared at me. Coolly. I went to the back of the chair again. Aftera few minutes their contemptuous stares got my neck.
"Okay, okay," I muttered. "We _won't_ make a million."
They waited expectantly for a compatible solution. To show that I wasstill working on it I started talking again.
"Let's sum up. You and Red want to get together. Which is only right,because you literally belong to each other. Check. But you can't,because Red's too small and you're too tall."
"Check," they said simultaneously. I stumbled on.
"Okay." I addressed Red. "Let's take you first. You areyour--uh--natural size. You are satisfied with it. You cannot beprojected up because it would distort you."
Red nodded. "I would consider it indecent."
"And anyway, you are satisfied with your element. You prefer it toWilly's."
"Immensely more. So would Willy."
"And what is your element?" I asked.
"Willy's mind."
* * * * *
I ignored that because it led to the shakes department. I turned toWilly. I was getting excited.
"Now, Willy. You are your natural size. You are unsatisfied with it,because--uh--your peculiar talent is lousing up your profession. What ismore, Red's size and element is the preference manifested in your mind.Her element is doubly preferred, then, as against your own, by both ofyou, uh--"
"Making the preference unanimous," Willy suggested.
"Right," I said, pushing the thing out of my mind now that I'd stumbledthrough it. I spread my arms and gave what I hoped was a confidentsmile.
"There's your answer," I said.
I got blank looks.
"It's obvious!" I said to Willy. "You go to Red's element!"
Willy's meager features were perplexed, but Red caught the idea. Shejumped excitedly back on her beau's lap. "Don't you see what he means,Willy? Draw yourself to my size!"
That is a verbatim report of what led up to Willy propping a full-lengthmirror in an easel and making a twelve-and-a-half inch full-lengthportrait of himself, with me drinking triple ryes while Red directedwhich of Willy's features should manifest the most prominence. It was avery good likeness of himself as he might have looked had he been thephysical Adonis his mind pictured him as, which was only right,considering the element he was journeying to. Red insisted he wear abathing suit that more or less matched her own.
When he was finished, he stepped back, naturally, to admire it.
"That's terrific!" I said, clapping him on the back.
"Watch on whom you're spilling the rye," Red flared. I apologized, andin my philanthropic state stooped to kiss her. She backed away.
"A kiss for the bride," I said, pouting. "That's all."
She laughed. "You'd swallow me." But she approached and stood up ontip-toe and bussed my nose.
"Break it up," Willy said, a new authority in his voice. "I've got toput my signature to the sketch." He tapped impatiently. "Red. Lie downbeside the sketch."
Red flushed and placed her hands on her hips. "Now look here, Willy.Don't you go getting too big for your boots!"
I guffawed. "It's the other way 'round! He'll be too _small_ for hisboots."
This diverted the quarrel enough for Willy to give me finalinstructions, which he did from a prone position on the floor. "Is Redlying down beside the sketch, Jim?"
"Yup," I said, squinting at the once-again two-dimensioned Red-head.
"Now I'll transfer my mind to the sketch. I'll move an arm when I'mthere."
He closed his eyes, and a straining expression twisted his features.
"Am I there yet?"
"Nope," I said, bringing my eyes to focus three inches from the sketch.
A few grunting moments passed. "Am I there yet?"
"Nope," I said, stifling a yawn.
"Something's wrong," he said. I turned to look down at him. Hisstraining expression was now from thought. I turned back to the layoutpad, and jumped.
"What's taking him so long?" Red dema
nded, sitting up.
"He can't transfer," I said.
She gave me the schoolmarm expression, hands on hips. "Haven't youkilled him yet?"
"Mmm?" I asked.
"You've got to _kill_ him, silly!"
I shook my head. "Unh-unh. Not me."
She started to cry. "I thought you _wanted_ us to get together!"
* * * * *
Feeling like a louse, I turned to look down at Willy. "She says I've gotto kill you."
"How?"
Red had come to the edge of the drawing desk. "What does it matter,how?" she said sternly. "You know perfectly well that the only way toget rid of the body you're in is to die." She looked back at me. "Whatare you waiting for?"
I rubbed my head. "Somehow it doesn't seem--"
She sat back and wailed. Willy jumped from the floor and cupped hertenderly in his hands. "Don't cry, sweet. After all, it _is_ asking alot of Jim."
"He gave us the solution," she cried, "and now he's backing out of hispart in it!"
"Well," said Willy, "he wasn't expected to know he'd have to kill me--"
"How _else_ can you leave the body you're in?" she sobbed. "What did heexpect you'd do? Occupy two bodies at the same time?"
Willy looked at me. I shrugged. "Have to confess I hadn't thought ofit," I muttered, only half aware that they had me over a barrel. I washalf tempted to ask Willy to fill my rye glass with pastels again, butit seemed an imposition at the moment.
"Oh, what the hell," I said committingly. "I'm not the kind of guy tolet a friend down over a technicality!"
Red leapt to my lap and clambered up my shirtfront. "I _knew_ youwouldn't let us down!" she said happily, and bussed my chin. Before Icould be modest about it she had bounded to the desk-top and wasstretching herself out beside Willy's drawing of himself. Willy and Istared from her to each other.
"Well," Willy said. "Let's get to it."
I won't elaborate on the details on my act of friendship. I killed Willyin as gentle a manner as possible, and when I turned back to the layoutpad they were sitting there embracing. Willy-the-Figment stood upproudly and extended his hand, the one Red wasn't clinging to.
"Thanks, Jim," he said, when I had shaken it warmly with my finger-tip."I knew when I phoned you tonight that you were just the one who wouldcome up with an unselfish, practical solution to my dilemma. I'd like tosay--"
"Oh, come on, come on, Willy," Red said impatiently, pulling him back tothe pad. "Jim knows how much we appreciate his help. Come _on_!"
"Oh, very well," said Willy, winking at me. I winked back. "Lucky sti--"I began, but then remembered Willy's corpse. That brought a naggingthought to my mind, but Willy and Red were lying side-by-side, halfsubmerged in their second dimension, and Red was beckoning impatiently,pointing to the dough rubber beside her.
"Hurry up," she said. "Rub us out."
I rubbed them out.
Willy's body vanished from the floor as I dropped the eraser. And justas suddenly I was sober. Cold, shaking sober.
Where was Willy? I looked around the room. Nobody but me. Me and mydelirium tremens.
I got out of that apartment fast and headed for a long line of drinks. Ihad a big case of murder to wash away. Or did I?...
... So you see, that's how it is. Willy's gone, and nobody knows where.Nobody but me. And I don't know either. I keep thinking of what Red saidabout her "fourth dimension" world. I think about it a lot.
I've given up my job at the agency. My apartment too. I got a new one.Willy's. It's just as it was that night. Right down to the last pasteland brush. It's going to stay that way too. Everything just as it was.Every gadget that Willy used in his work.
I've got a use for everything in that apartment. I've got to _know_ whathappened. And there's only one real way to find out.
I spend my days thinking about my ideal woman. Each day she gets morevivid in my mind.
My evenings are spent at Art School. I'm learning fast....