*
There were daisies in the field where he lay, his shoulders and nakedchest pressed to the earth. A gentle wind stirred the grass, and theflute-like warble of a song bird was repeated close to his ear, over andover with a tireless persistence.
Abruptly he sat up and stared about him. Running parallel to the fieldwas a winding country road and down it came a yellow and silver vehicleon wheels, its entire upper section encased in glass which mirrored theautumnal landscape with a startling clearness.
The vehicle halted directly in front of him and a man with ruddy cheeksand snow-white hair leaned out to wave at him.
"Good morning, mister!" the man shouted. "Can I give you a lift intotown?"
Moonson rose unsteadily, alarm and suspicion in his stare. Verycautiously he lowered the mental barrier and the man's thoughts impingedon his mind in bewildering confusion.
_He's not a farmer, that's sure ... must have been swimming in thecreek, but those bathing trunks he's wearing are out of this world!_
_Huh! I wouldn't have the nerve to parade around in trunks like thateven on a public beach. Probably an exhibitionist ... But why should hewear 'em out here in the woods? No blonds or redheads to knock silly outhere!_
_Huh! He might have the courtesy to answer me ... Well, if he doesn'twant a lift into town it's no concern of mine!_
Moonson stood watching the vehicle sweep away out of sight. Obviously hehad angered the man by his silence, but he could answer only by shakinghis head.
He began to walk, pausing an instant in the middle of the bridge tostare down at a stream of water that rippled in the sunlight overmoss-covered rocks. Tiny silver fish darted to and fro beneath atumbling waterfall and he felt calmed and reassured by the sight.Shoulders erect now, he walked on ...
It was high noon when he reached the tavern. He went inside, saw men andwomen dancing in a dim light, and there was a huge, rainbow-coloredmusical instrument by the door which startled him by its resonance. Themusic was wild, weird, a little terrifying.
He sat down at a table near the door and searched the minds of thedancers for a clue to the meaning of what he saw.
The thoughts which came to him were startlingly primitive, direct andsometimes meaningless to him.
_Go easy, baby! Swing it! Sure, we're in the groove now, but you nevercan tell! I'll buy you an orchid, honey! Not roses, just oneorchid--black like your hair! Ever see a black orchid, hon? They're rareand they're expensive!_
_Oh, darl, darl, hold me closer! The music goes round and round! It willalways be like that with us, honey! Don't ever be a square! That's all Iask! Don't ever be a square! Cuddle up to me, let yourself go! Whenyou're dancing with one girl you should never look at another! Don't youknow that, Johnny!_
_Sure I know it, Doll! But did I ever claim I wasn't human?_
_Darl, doll, doll baby! Look all you want to! But if you ever dare--_
Moonson found himself relaxing a little. Dancing in all ages was closelyallied to love-making, but it was pursued here with a careless rapturewhich he found creatively stimulating. People came here not only todance but to eat, and the thoughts of the dancers implied that there wasnothing stylized about a tavern. The ritual was a completely naturalone.
In Egyptian bas-reliefs you saw the opposite in dancing. Every movementrigidly prescribed, arms held rigid and sharply bent at the elbows. Slowmovements rather than lively ones, a bowing and a scraping with bowls offruit extended in gift offerings at every turn.
There was obviously no enthroned authority here, no bejeweled king topacify when emotions ran wild, but complete freedom to embrace joy withcorybantic abandonment.
A tall man in ill-fitting black clothes approached Moonson's table,interrupting his reflections with thoughts that seemed designed todisturb and distract him out of sheer perversity. So even here therewere flies in every ointment, and no dream of perfection could remainunchallenged.
He sat unmoving, absorbing the man's thoughts.
_What does he think this is, a bath house? Mike says it's okay to servethem if they come in from the beach just as they are. But just one quickbeer, no more. This late in the season you'd think they'd have thedecency to get dressed!_
The sepulchrally-dressed man gave the table a brush with a cloth hecarried, then thrust his head forward like an ill-tempered scavengerbird.
"Can't serve you anything but beer. Boss's orders. Okay?"
Moonson nodded and the man went away.
Then he turned to watching the girl. She was frightened. She sat allalone, plucking nervously at the red-and-white checkered tablecloth. Shesat with her back to the light, bunching the cloth up into little folds,then smoothing it out again.
She'd ground out lipstick-smudged cigarettes until the ash tray wasspilling over.
Moonson began to watch the fear in her mind ...
Her fear grew when she thought that Mike wasn't gone for good. The phonecall wouldn't take long and he'd be coming back any minute now. And Mikewouldn't be satisfied until she was broken into little bits. Yes, Mikewanted to see her on her knees, begging him to kill her!
_Kill me, but don't hurt Joe! It wasn't his fault! He's just a kid--he'snot twenty yet, Mike!_
That would be a lie but Mike had no way of knowing that Joe would betwenty-two on his next birthday, although he looked eighteen at most.There was no pity in Mike but would his pride let him hot-rod aneighteen-year-old?
_Mike won't care! Mike will kill him anyway! Joe couldn't help fallingin love with me, but Mike won't care what Joe could help! Mike was neveryoung himself, never a sweet kid like Joe!_
_Mike killed a man when he was fourteen years old! He spent seven yearsin a reformatory and the kids there were never young. Joe will be justone of those kids to Mike ..._
Her fear kept growing.
You couldn't fight men like Mike. Mike was strong in too many differentways. When you ran a tavern with an upstairs room for special customersyou had to be tough, strong. You sat in an office and when people cameto you begging for favors you just laughed. Ten grand isn't hay, buddy!My wheels aren't rigged. If you think they are get out. It's yourfuneral.
It's your funeral, Mike would say, laughing until tears came into hiseyes.
You couldn't fight that kind of strength. Mike could push his knuckleshard into the faces of people who owed him money, and he'd never even bearrested.
Mike could take money crisp and new out of his wallet, spread it outlike a fan, say to any girl crazy enough to give him a second glance:"I'm interested in you, honey! Get rid of him and come over to mytable!"
He could say worse things to girls too decent and self-respecting tolook at him at all.
You could be so cold and hard nothing could ever hurt you. You could beMike Galante ...
How could she have loved such a man? And dragged Joe into it, a good kidwho had made only one really bad mistake in his life--the mistake ofasking her to marry him.
She shivered with a chill of self-loathing and turned her eyeshesitantly toward the big man in bathing trunks who sat alone by thedoor.
For a moment she met the big man's eyes and her fears seemed to fadeaway! She stared at him ... sunburned almost black. Muscles like alifeguard. All alone and not on the make. When he returned her stare hiseyes sparkled with friendly interest, but no suggestive, flirtatiousintent.
He was too rugged to be really handsome, she thought, but he wouldn'thave to start digging in his wallet to get a girl to change tables,either.
Guiltily she remembered Joe, now it could only be Joe.
Then she saw Joe enter the room. He was deathly pale and he was comingstraight toward her between the tables. Without pausing to weigh hischances of staying alive he passed a man and a woman who relished Mike'scompany enough to make them eager to act ugly for a daily handout. Theydid not look up at Joe as he passed but the man's lips curled in a sneerand the woman whispered something that appeared to fan the flames of hercompanion's malice.
Mike had friends--friends who would never rat o
n him while their policerecords remained in Mike's safe and they could count on him forprotection.
She started to rise, to go to Joe and warn him that Mike would be comingback. But despair flooded her and the impulse died. The way Joe feltabout her was a thing too big to stop ...
Joe saw her slim against the light, and his thoughts were like the seasurge, wild, unruly.
_Maybe Mike will get me. Maybe I'll be dead by this time tomorrow. MaybeI'm crazy to love her the way I do ..._
Her hair against the light, a tumbled mass of spun gold.
_Always a woman bothering me for as long as I can remember. Molly, Anne,Janice ... Some were good for me and some were bad._
_You see a woman on the street walking ahead of you, hips swaying, andyou think: I don't even know her name but I'd like to crush her in myarms!_
_I guess every guy feels like that about every pretty woman he
The Man from Time Page 2