The Scapegoat

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by Richard Maples

charged with the shoplifting you did today."

  He sobered instantly. He jerked the blonde to her feet, booted her out,slammed the door and came back to me. "Ted, I'm shocked to hear this.Tell me about it quickly. We must do something right away."

  The blonde had begun to howl and scream curses. I could hear doors andwindows opening all the way down the street. "You monster!" Nan spat,and hurried outside. Presently the girl quieted down.

  "Ted," Ashe whispered, "I'm ashamed of myself. Here you befriended meand all I've done is get you and your family in trouble." He held acupped hand over his eyes as if he were shading tears. "Can you possiblyfind it in your heart to forgive me?"

  I was moved. After all, a poor, homeless alien being couldn't very wellbe expected to understand our manners and feelings. Yet this one did.All because he'd been touched by my friendship.

  "Ashe," I said, feeling the the warmth of good will, "I'm happy to hearyou say that. Bygones are bygones. The important thing is springingTommy."

  "Exactly," he said. "We'll go and explain everything to the police. Butwe'll do it in grand style. This is your big show. We must have Jonesand the Mayor. We must have photographers, reporters, television,radio--everything!"

  * * * * *

  Nan returned. "The girl will be all right. She was just upset."

  "Honey," I told her excitedly, "we're about to stand the whole countryon its collective ear. Ashe is going to reveal his identity!"

  Nan's face pinched into a look of disgust. "You mean you're trustingthis--this creature again?"

  "Sure, honey. Anyone can make a mistake."

  "That's right!" she exploded. "You're making one now! Oh, Ted, stopbeing such a fool!"

  "Listen here," I said, "this is the last two minutes of the game. We'retrying to score before the gun--and you start an argument!"

  She began to blubber.

  Why must she always be so unreasonable? Why the constant bickering andtension and unhappiness? I was sick to death of it. I grabbed Ashe'sarm. "Come on," I said, "let's go."

  Even outdoors, the air felt hot and clammy. I headed the car for theplant, figuring I could do my phoning from there as well as pick a crew.But on Main Street, Ashe spotted a cab and made me stop.

  He said he'd better go on ahead. He thought things would work smootherthat way. He could start the ball rolling on the release of Tommy, and Iwouldn't be held up by having to tell people who he was.

  I drove on alone. But it was a mistake. People simply didn't believe mystory about an alien being. In various ways and tones of voice, they allsuggested I go home and sleep it off. In desperation, I went up toJones' house, even though he'd already told me on the phone that he wasin the middle of a dinner party.

  He came up close to me and sniffed my breath.

  "Don't worry," I told him. "I never touch it. But maybe I should smellyours. Anyone who turns his back on the biggest story of all time mustbe drunk!"

  He jerked the cigar from his mouth and gave me a narrow-eyed, searchinglook. "Ted, I just hope for your sake this isn't some kind of a joke."

  * * * * *

  Fifteen minutes later, we pulled up to the police station in a three carconvoy, with a big crew from the paper. I led the group inside, feelingthe excitement grow in me. I marched up to the desk sergeant. "Where ishe?"

  The desk sergeant looked startled. "Who?"

  Well, he wasn't there. He just wasn't there! It was like getting tackledtwo yards from a touch-down by a tackler you hadn't realized wasanywhere near!

  Jones pushed forward, chewing agitatedly on his cigar. "Edward, you'vegot some nerve, pulling a stunt like this! It's an outrage!"

  "Take it easy," I said weakly. "Something's gone wrong."

  "It certainly has. You must have gone insane!"

  "Listen here! If you don't stick with me on this, I'm all through withthe paper!"

  "That suits me fine!"

  I watched him leave, trailing cigar smoke. The others followed. My faceburned and sweat trickled down my back and along my sides. I wanted tohit out at something....

  A hand gripped my elbow. It was Sergeant Thompson. "Mr. Potter, youshouldn't let this get you down. People's kids get in scrapes all thetime. Tomorrow you'll have a talk with the judge and everything willturn out okay."

  I jerked my elbow away. "In other words, you think I'm batty, too!"

  "No," he said, gripping my elbow again and starting me toward the door."It's been hot and you just need some rest."

  "Thompson," I said, dragging myself to a halt, "I know it sounds nuts,but this Ashe character really exists. Help me find him and you can cutyourself a slice. It'll be big time!"

  The grip on my elbow increased. "Go home, Mr. Potter, and get a goodnight's sleep."

  "But it's on the level, Thompson. Jones and I busted up. I'm playing onyour team now!"

  His face got all flushed. "My job isn't a game and I don't belong to anyteam. Get wise, will you? Stay in your own back yard for once. It couldstand a lot of weeding!" He pushed me out the door then--so hard, Ialmost fell.

  * * * * *

  Standing there, feeling the heat press in on me, I tried to dope out thenext move. My car was still at Jones' place, so I'd need a cab. I turnedtoward the drugstore at the end of the block where I could phone.Walking along, I recalled Ashe had taken a cab earlier in the evening.If I could talk to the driver, I might get a lead on his whereabouts. Iwalked faster.

  I thought of Thompson and his remark about the back yard ... and theweeds. Again, for the third time, a chill traveled the length of myspine. I began to run. I ran past the drugstore and all the way home.

  They were both in the bedroom. Nan stood in the far corner with her backagainst the wall. Her shoulders were scratched and her lip cut. She helda heavy bookend poised to strike at Ashe, who was in front of her,moving stealthily forward.

  The moment I spun him around, I froze in amazement. I couldn't recognizehim. Then, all at once, I realized I was looking at the spitting imageof myself.

  He broke from my grasp and darted to the window. Before I could follow,Nan had dropped the bookend and flung herself into my arms. "Oh, Ted,"she sobbed, "I _knew_ it wasn't you!"

  I kissed her and gently disengaged her arms. "I've got to get Ashe," Isaid.

  When I vaulted through the window and circled the house, I spotted himrushing down the street. I caught him around the corner at the same spotwhere I'd first seen him.

  I slugged him. Yet I knew it was useless the instant the blow landed. Hefelt just like sponge rubber. But I kept hitting him. I didn't botherlistening to his cries and I didn't give a damn that he'd changedhimself back to an old man.

  The blow on the back of my neck was so sudden, I didn't feel it. Theonly sensation was unbalance, as if I were walking uphill. Then I wasslapped with the sidewalk.

  Looking up, I could see he was young, clean-cut and well built. Hislong, horsy face was furious. "You crazy?" he yelled. "Beating up an oldman!"

  I searched desperately for an explanation--something to say. Then,abruptly, without having uttered a sound, I reeled away and shambledhurriedly down the street ... home, to Nan.

  --RICHARD MAPLES

  * * * * *

  Transcriber's Notes:

  This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction June 1956. Extensiveresearch did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on thispublication was renewed.

 


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