I Will Fear No Evil Part 12

"Uh, 'Johanna.' "

"Mmmm, yes. But there is already a 'Johanna' in my family. Got another?"

"Well . . . if you called yourself 'Joan' and gave it the two-syllable p.r.o.nunciation. it would be almost like 'Johann' except for the 'J' instead of the 'Y' sound."

"Perfect! You've named me. I think that makes you my G.o.dmother. Do you mind being G.o.dmother to an old, old man who has just been reborn as a woman?"

Winnie smiled. "I'm flattered."

"So call me 'Joan,' not 'Miss Smith.' Uh, I need middle name. 'Eunice.' " (Why, Boss, now I'm I'm flattered.) (Yes, beloved. Now shut up.) " 'Joan Eunice Smith.' Winnie, do you know why that's my middle name?" flattered.) (Yes, beloved. Now shut up.) " 'Joan Eunice Smith.' Winnie, do you know why that's my middle name?"

The nurse said slowly, "I'm not supposed to know."

"Then you do know. It's for the sweet and gracious lady who gave me this wonderful body-and I hope she can hear me wherever she is." (I can can, Boss!) "Put down those gowns and come here and name me with my new name. Name me formally, for it's all the christening I will ever have. Then seal it."

Almost timidly the little redhead came close to the bed, bent over her patient. She said softly, "I name thee 'Joan Eunice' "-and kissed her.

Perhaps Winnie intended to make it a formal peck; Joan Eunice did not let it be. Both women were leaking tears before it was over.

Joan patted the nurse's cheek and let her straighten up. "Thank you, dear. I'm Joan now. Joan Eunice. Hand me a tissue and you need one, too." (How was that one, Eunice?) (Butch, your technique is improving. I felt that one clear down in our toes.) (Who the h.e.l.l are you calling 'Butch,' Butch? My name is Joan Eunice.) (No, you're Joan and I I am Eunice and collectively we're Joan Eunice . . . and I've never had a nicer present, Boss. Joan. And I know you're not a butch but you had better cool it with our G.o.dmother. Unless you mean business.) am Eunice and collectively we're Joan Eunice . . . and I've never had a nicer present, Boss. Joan. And I know you're not a butch but you had better cool it with our G.o.dmother. Unless you mean business.) "Which gown do you like . . . Joan?"

"Winnie, I don't know first verse about women's clothes. What do you think?"

"Well . . . this Cretan design is rather extreme. But you have the figure to justify it." (No, Boss! Take the one with the high neckline.) (Eunice, I thought you were proud of our b.u.mps? They don't really sag.) (It's not that at all. Trust me, Joan; I know what I'm doing.) "You may be right, Winnie. But it may not be the right gown for doctors and lawyers. I had better start easy, with the high neckline. Help me, please."

While they were getting Joan into a nightgown she asked, "Winnie? How did you happen to burst in on me?"

"What? Why, the displays of course. Both your heart rate and respiration were way up. Exercise. So I rushed in to check-and sure enough, my bad girl had managed to get out of bed. Oh, how you frightened me, dear!"

"Winnie, there's a hole in that story I could throw a dog through."

The nurse stiffened. "What do you mean-Joan?"

"My heart rate and respiration must have climbed a good ten minutes before you came in."

"Oh, dear! You won't tell on me? You promised."

"I did and so did you. Winnie with the sweet mouth, from now on neither of us is ever going to tell Dr. Garcia a durn thing unless we think he needs to know it. You and I, dear. Solid. Now tell me what happened."

"Uh . . . oh, this is silly. Whoever is on watch at the remotes isn't supposed to take his eyes off the displays even a moment. But you were doing so nicely . . . and Mrs. Sloan was taking a nap-which she needed, poor dear-and Dr. Garcia had gone to check on Mr. Salomon . . . and he takes a grim view of being sent for unless the patient needs him . . . and the washroom is just down the hall from the displays-"

"I get it. We had the same urge at the same time. Right?"

Winnie blushed again. "I deserve to be fired. I know better than to take any chance with a patient. Patients do the darnedest things."

"You aren't ever going to be fired, you're going to be here long after Dr. Garcia leaves. If you'll stay. How do I look?"

"Simply lovely. I wouldn't have guessed it but I do think this gown does more for you than that Cretan number." (What did I tell you, Boss?) "But I'm going to put more lipstick on you. It's all gone."

"Now how in the world did that that happen?" happen?"

Winnie giggled. "Don't ask me. me. But guess maybe I'll put on some myself before Doctor sees us. Joan? Is it all right for me to call you 'Miss Joan' when Dr. Garcia is around? He's terribly strict." But guess maybe I'll put on some myself before Doctor sees us. Joan? Is it all right for me to call you 'Miss Joan' when Dr. Garcia is around? He's terribly strict."

"Tell him to go soak his head. Sho', sho', honey, if it makes you feel easier. But I'm 'Joan' when he's not around. You're my coach. You're going to make a lady out of me." (That's my my job, Boss. And a tough one, I can see.) (So you need help with it. Don't joggle my elbow; Winnie is our secret weapon.) (Okay. But this weapon might explode.) (Look, infant, I learned to cope with women long before your grandmother was born.) job, Boss. And a tough one, I can see.) (So you need help with it. Don't joggle my elbow; Winnie is our secret weapon.) (Okay. But this weapon might explode.) (Look, infant, I learned to cope with women long before your grandmother was born.) "I'll be glad to help, any way I can . . . Joan dear."

"Then you can start by convincing dear Doctor that I'm well enough for a tub bath. I stink. Ladies ought not to stink."

"Why, you had a bed bath not two hours ago!"

"I need more than a bed bath and you know it. Sell him the idea that you can help me into and out of the tub and keep me from falling. If you have trouble with him, fetch him in and I'll throw a tantrum. If he gives us grief, I'll make him scrub my back." Joan grinned. "So get lipstick on us; then go find him."

(Joan Boss honey, see what I mean about the high neckline job? See what it does for us?) (I know that I feel somewhat more covered up. But only somewhat. Eunice, those breast panels are wicked.) (Oh, fuff, they're not even transparent, just translucent. But that's why this nightgown is so much s.e.xier than the Cretan one. Men always mistake bare skin for s.e.xiness. A typical male mistake.) (Maybe so, but I have never in my long life complained about bare skin.) (I won't argue, Joan, but I'm going to pick out our clothes. Until you start thinking like a woman. But I had a specific reason for picking the gown which is -superficially-more modest. So that we will have it on when Jake comes in.) (Eunice, Jake has probably gone home. He's had a rough time.) (So he has and what do you think I'm talking about? He's still in the house; he would not leave without saying goodbye.) (Oh, nonsense, Jake and I aren't that formal.) (Boss, Jake is a gentleman to his fingertips. He might feel free to duck out without formality in dealing with his old friend Johann Smith-but not not with a lady. 'Johann' is one thing, 'Joan Eunice' is another matter.) with a lady. 'Johann' is one thing, 'Joan Eunice' is another matter.) (But he knows knows I'm Johann.) I'm Johann.) (So? Then why why did he kiss our hand? Joan, I'm going to have to watch you every second; you don't know did he kiss our hand? Joan, I'm going to have to watch you every second; you don't know anything anything about men.) about men.) (I spent almost a century being being one.) one.) (Irrelevant. Hush up; he may be here any time, I've got to tell this bang. Joan, the last few months before I was killed I was Jake's mistress.) (How was the old goat?) (Is that that all you have to say?) all you have to say?) (Eunice, you think I know nothing about men. Possibly true, in one sense. But I I can teach can teach you you about men-from the inside-the way you can teach me about men from the outside. Jake is tough. Yet I saw him collapse twice in grief over you. Understandable that your death would upset him some. Understandable that it was a strain on him to help out in the masquerade of not letting me know that I had inherited your lovely body. Nevertheless you were just a girl he had known through business, one who helped him with my affairs. Not one he knew intimately. Yet this tough old lawyer collapsed twice. Over you. So he about men-from the inside-the way you can teach me about men from the outside. Jake is tough. Yet I saw him collapse twice in grief over you. Understandable that your death would upset him some. Understandable that it was a strain on him to help out in the masquerade of not letting me know that I had inherited your lovely body. Nevertheless you were just a girl he had known through business, one who helped him with my affairs. Not one he knew intimately. Yet this tough old lawyer collapsed twice. Over you. So he must must have known you far better than anyone guessed. How? And have known you far better than anyone guessed. How? And where where? Only one answer. In bed.) (Not always in bed, you dirty old man with a girl's name. In bed, certainly. But lots of other places, too. In his car. In your your car. Several times in this house-) car. Several times in this house-) (Be d.a.m.ned! Then all my servants know it, too.) (I doubt if they suspect. We used your study to work-and did work-and Cunningham didn't let us be disturbed any more than he would have disturbed you and me. You asked a rude question, you'll get a blunt answer. The old goat was good good. And quite daring in grabbing every chance. We hardly missed a day up to the time I was killed.) (A couple of j.d.'s, you two. Well, 'My hat's off to the Duke.') (Jealous, Boss?) (No, envious. I wouldn't have been up to it the first day I laid eyes on you. Impossible. And now still more impossible. Just envious. The old goat.) (Not impossible, Joan.) (Eh?) (I was shocked when I saw Jake. My death must have hurt him terribly. I know it did, he loved me. But we can pull him out of it, Joan, you and I-only this time we won't use your study.) (What? Why, that's Why, that's incest! incest!) (Don't be ridiculous, dear. I was no relation to Jake and I don't think you are, either.) (I mean it would feel feel like incest. Jake? like incest. Jake? Jake? Jake? Eunice, when I admitted that I supposed that I would-eventually-be 'actively female,' I didn't have Eunice, when I admitted that I supposed that I would-eventually-be 'actively female,' I didn't have Jake Jake in mind.) in mind.) (I did.) (Then get it out of your mind! Forget it. Dr. Hedrick if you want to-at least I'll try to cooperate-after I get used to being female. Your former husband, Joe, I owe that to you-) (Not Joe.) (Why not? You spoke highly of him in that respect, and I always thought you thought well of him in other respects. Not urging you-h.e.l.l, I can't think about s.e.x other than abstractly about any any man; I'm not yet reoriented. But I had already decided to go along with your need for Joe.) man; I'm not yet reoriented. But I had already decided to go along with your need for Joe.) (Boss, I can't can't. Not with Joe. Because he was was my husband. To him, I'd be a zombie. A walking corpse. I doubt if he would touch us . . . and if he did, I'd be terribly tempted to tell him. Tell him I'm still here. Can't. I know it.) my husband. To him, I'd be a zombie. A walking corpse. I doubt if he would touch us . . . and if he did, I'd be terribly tempted to tell him. Tell him I'm still here. Can't. I know it.) (And I I can't make it with Jake. It's the same with Jake, too, you know. A walking corpse.) can't make it with Jake. It's the same with Jake, too, you know. A walking corpse.) (Not quite the same. Surely, he knows we're a patchwork, your brain and my body. But he loved us both. He's loved you much longer than he's loved me. While Joe doesn't even know you.) (Jake loved loved me me? Eunice, you're out of your mind!) (Impossible, dear; I don't have one to be out of. Why do you think Jake put up with your bad temper? Not for money; he's rich, even though he's not as rich as you are. Why is he still around at all? For me me? He would have avoided seeing me- me-this body-had it been possible; it hurts him. He stuck because you you needed him. Look, dear-Joan, I mean-Joan, this is your big sister Eunice talking, you listen to her. Be nice to Jake. Be a sweet girl to Jake. Then let things run easy. I'm not asking you to do anything you don't want to do-heavens, no! Jake would spot it if you forced yourself; he's no fool about women. Just be sweet. Don't be Johann, be Joan. Be little and feminine and let him take care of you.) needed him. Look, dear-Joan, I mean-Joan, this is your big sister Eunice talking, you listen to her. Be nice to Jake. Be a sweet girl to Jake. Then let things run easy. I'm not asking you to do anything you don't want to do-heavens, no! Jake would spot it if you forced yourself; he's no fool about women. Just be sweet. Don't be Johann, be Joan. Be little and feminine and let him take care of you.) (Well-I'll try. Jake is going to think I'm off my rocker.) (He's going to think you're a darling girl. It's possible he'd rather be your father than what he was to me. If so, we'll be good and let him baby us.) She sighed. (I'll try, Eunice. But I don't know. Jake!) (That's my good girl, Joan. Be helpless and female; Jake will do the rest.)

Dr. Garcia bustled in, came straight to the bed. "What's this about a tub bath? I thought I made it plain that you weren't to rush things."

(Don't let him argue, Joan!) (Watch me trip him!) "Oh Doctor, you startled me so!"

"Eh? How?"

"Bursting in on me without warning. Is that nice?"

Garcia looked baffled. "Miss Smith, I've been here more than a year and I've always entered this room without ceremony. Am I to understand that you find it offensive? After all this time?"

"That's not the point, Doctor. When you first came here you were attending a helpless old man. Then you were helping Dr. Hedrick with a female patient who was paralyzed, and unconscious most of the time-and I do appreciate the care you gave that helpless patient, for I am she. But things change. I am now having to learn to be a woman and, if possible, a lady. It's not easy. Won't you help me by showing me the formal courtesies you show other ladies?"

Garcia reddened slightly. "A doctor doesn't have time for formalities."

(Slug him again, dearie! He's still twitching.) (I shall!) "Doctor, if I were in danger, I would expect you to rush in without buzzing; I depend on you. But you came in to tell me I can't have a bath-surely not an emergency. I'm not asking much-just asking you to think of this room, not as an old man's sickroom, but as a lady's boudoir. To help me. Please?"

Dr. Garcia said stiffly, "Very well, Miss Smith. I shall remember."

"Thank you, sir. By the way, my name is 'Joan Smith' now; I can't go on being 'Johann.' You might call me 'Miss Joan' to help me get used to it. Or simply 'Joan,' as I don't want to be unnecessarily formal with my doctor, truly I don't. Just that little touch of formality that I need as training in learning how to be my new self. Will you call me 'Joan'?"

He grudged a smile. "All right-Joan."

She gave him Eunice's best you-wonderful-man smile. "That sounds nice. And you are are welcome any time, Doctor, either professionally or just to visit. Which I hope you will do. Just have the nurse make sure I'm ready to receive a gentleman. Things. You know." She raised herself on an elbow and looked at him, acutely aware of her "modest" nightgown. "Such as lipstick." She wet her lips. "Odd to have to wear it. Is it on properly? Does it look right?" welcome any time, Doctor, either professionally or just to visit. Which I hope you will do. Just have the nurse make sure I'm ready to receive a gentleman. Things. You know." She raised herself on an elbow and looked at him, acutely aware of her "modest" nightgown. "Such as lipstick." She wet her lips. "Odd to have to wear it. Is it on properly? Does it look right?"

"You look lovely!"

(Cancel and erase-change 'butch' to 'tart.' You're a natural-born tart, dearie. Where's your beat?) (Stow it, sister tart; I haven't finished hustling him.) "Why, thank you sir! Now tell me why I can't have a hot, soapy, tub bath so that I will feel feel lovely, too. I'll follow your orders, Doctor, but I would like to understand them. Can you tell me without using a lot of long medical words?" lovely, too. I'll follow your orders, Doctor, but I would like to understand them. Can you tell me without using a lot of long medical words?"

"Well-Joan, my objection is to the tub itself. People are forever breaking legs or cracking skulls through slipping in bathtubs. And you haven't even learned to stand up, much less walk."

"True." Joan threw the sheet back, dropped her feet over the edge of the bed, sat up-controlled a slight dizziness and smiled. "Let's see if I can. Will you help me, Doctor? Arm around me perhaps?"

"Lie down!"

"Must I? I feel fine. Is there a stool? My feet don't touch the floor."

"Miss Sm-Joan, d.a.m.n it, so help me I'm going to quit this business and buy a junkyard! Lie down while I call a nurse. Then we'll get on each side of you and let you stand up. When you find out how weak and dizzy you are, I'll expect you to go back to bed and stay there."

"Yes, Doctor," she said meekly, and lay down.

Winnie answered the summons. "You rang, Doctor?"

"We're going to try a practice walk. Help me get the patient up. You take her left side."

"Yes, sir."

With too much help Joan got out of bed, stood up. The room wobbled a little but she steadied herself on Winnie while letting her arm be feather-light on the Doctor's shoulder.

"How do you feel?"

"Fine. We should have music; I feel like dancing."

"Feel like it if you wish, don't try it. Slow march now and short steps." They walked toward the door, while Joan relished the thick pile of the rug against her bare feet. Walking was fun; everything everything was fun! (Eunice my love, do you realize what a perfect body this is?) (It's way out of shape. But two weeks' hard work and we'll have it tuned up.) (Oh, pooh, I never felt this good even as a child.) (You'll see, Boss. Say a vertical split with our hair sweeping the floor, then hold it through ten controlled breaths-and come out of it with a slow walkover and melt on down into a full Lotus with never a hurried movement. Just wait.) (You think we'll be able to do that? I was clumsy even as a boy.) (No huhu. The body remembers, dear.) was fun! (Eunice my love, do you realize what a perfect body this is?) (It's way out of shape. But two weeks' hard work and we'll have it tuned up.) (Oh, pooh, I never felt this good even as a child.) (You'll see, Boss. Say a vertical split with our hair sweeping the floor, then hold it through ten controlled breaths-and come out of it with a slow walkover and melt on down into a full Lotus with never a hurried movement. Just wait.) (You think we'll be able to do that? I was clumsy even as a boy.) (No huhu. The body remembers, dear.) They stopped. "Now turn around slowly, and head for your bed."

"Doctor? Now that I'm up, why not head me straight for that soap and water?"

"Aren't you tired?"

"Not a bit. I didn't lean on you, did I? I thought I had been promised a real bath as soon as I was able to walk. Must I stand on my hands as well? Back away and I'll try." She let go of his arm.

The Doctor promptly put his arm around her waist. "No nonsense! Nurse, that tub has grab rails; make her use them."

"Yes, Doctor."

"If this patient falls, you had better head for Canada -you can find the shortest route by following me. If you're fast enough."

"Winnie won't let me fall," Joan said warmly while warmly leaning into his arm. "But if you're worried, you can come in and help. Scrub my back."

He snorted. "Ten minutes ago you bawled me out merely for walking into your bedroom unannounced."

"And if you do it again, I shall again. That's social; this is professional. Doctor, I'm well aware that you've seen my new body-professionally-many times. One more time won't kill me." She wiggled slightly in his arm.

"Scrubbing a patient's back is not part of my professional duties. Lukewarm tub, Nurse, and don't let her stay in too long."

Once inside the bathroom. and the door shut Joan threw her arms around her nurse and giggled. "Honey, did you see his face?"

Winnie shook her head. "Joan, you don't need me to coach you in how to be female. You already know."

"Oh, but I do do need you, dear. Because I need you, dear. Because I don't don't know. I simply used on dear Doctor things that used to fl.u.s.ter me when I was his age-and male." She giggled again. "For a second I thought he was going to take my dare and scrub my back." (And know. I simply used on dear Doctor things that used to fl.u.s.ter me when I was his age-and male." She giggled again. "For a second I thought he was going to take my dare and scrub my back." (And I I thought you were going to lay him, right on the rug.) (Oh, be quiet, Eunice; I didn't even pinch him.) Joan let go of Winnie., stepped back, and started to skin the gown over her head. "Now for a bath. Oh boy!" thought you were going to lay him, right on the rug.) (Oh, be quiet, Eunice; I didn't even pinch him.) Joan let go of Winnie., stepped back, and started to skin the gown over her head. "Now for a bath. Oh boy!"

"Joan! Please Please hold onto something. Doctor might show up any second." hold onto something. Doctor might show up any second."

"Oh, pooh, he wouldn't dare. Never again." Joan turned and touched the latch switch. "Now he can't, so quit fretting."

"You mustn't lock the door. Hospital baths are never locked."

"This isn't a hospital and I'll lock my bathroom door whenever I like and if Dr. Garcia finds out I've locked it the only way he can can-by trying to walk in-and dares to mention it, I'll scream my head off to Jake Salomon and there'll be a change in doctors. Winnie dear, I wasn't a cranky old man more years than I care to think about without learning how to get my own way. I just have to use different weapons now. Want to peel off that uniform and hang it in the dressing room? I not only may splash you but this end is going to fill up with steam."

"No, Joan-lukewarm tub. You heard him."

"I heard him and it's going to be the temperature I I like and that's another thing he'll never know and you know that I'm lively as a frog and not the weak kitten he insists on thinking I am; a hot tub won't hurt me. If you want to get your uniform clammy, that's your business. Better yet, climb into the tub with me. It's big, and short as I am now, I might slide under and drown, alone." like and that's another thing he'll never know and you know that I'm lively as a frog and not the weak kitten he insists on thinking I am; a hot tub won't hurt me. If you want to get your uniform clammy, that's your business. Better yet, climb into the tub with me. It's big, and short as I am now, I might slide under and drown, alone."

"I shouldn't," Winnie said slowly.

"Isn't that a horrid thought? Patient faints in tub and drowns before nurse can reach her. Not good enough for flash news but they might mention it on the late-late-late early news."

"Joan! You're teasing me." (You sure are, Boss. Erase and correct again-Both tart and and butch.) (Fiddlesticks, Eunice. That's a big enough tub for all three of us.) butch.) (Fiddlesticks, Eunice. That's a big enough tub for all three of us.) Winnie bit her lip and slowly unfastened her smock. Joan turned away and started filling the tub, adjusted the temperature, and avoided watching her.

11.

An hour later Joan was seated in an easy chair, with her feet on a stool. To the nightgown had been added a filmy negligee and a pair of high-heeled boudoir pumps. Her hair had been arranged, her face had been most carefully made up, and she was lavishly scented with a cologne labeled "April Mist" but which deserved the t.i.tle of "Criminal a.s.sault." Her toenails were trimmed, not to Eunice's satisfaction but well enough for the time being. Best of all, she was enjoying the euphoria of a woman who is utterly clean, scented and powdered, and dressed attractively.

Beds had been switched, the room no longer held any flavor of sickroom, and Joan found that this greatly increased her feeling of well-being. Eunice's stenodesk had been restored to its usual spot beyond Johann's baby grand piano, Joan having learned that it was in her study where it had last been used, and had told Cunningham to have it brought in. It did not fit the room-but it fitted her notion of what the room should be; it was homey, it belonged.

She was alone, Winnie having gone to invite Mr. Salomon to dine with his hostess-ward. Joan sighed with satisfaction. (Feel better, hon? I do.) (Heavens, yes. But why did you lose your nerve?) (Oh, piffle, Eunice! I never intended to seduce her.) (Liar. Hypocrite. Dirty old man. You had her all set. Then you went chicken. I've met men like you before, dearie-talk a good game, then lose their nerve in the clutch. Cowardly Casanovas. Pfui!) (Nonsense! You don't shoot ducks on water. If I ever make a real pa.s.s at her-I'm not saying I will but I admit she's a cuddlesome little bundle-) (She is indeed!) (Oh, shut up! If I ever do, I'll give her a sporting chance-not grab her when she dasn't scream.) ('Sporting chance' my tired back. Listen to your big sister, Joan-s.e.x isn't a sport, it's a way to be happy. There is nothing nothing more exasperating to a woman than to be ready to give in-then have the matter dropped. You'll find out. You'll cry in your pillow and hate every man alive. Till the next time, that is.) more exasperating to a woman than to be ready to give in-then have the matter dropped. You'll find out. You'll cry in your pillow and hate every man alive. Till the next time, that is.) (Eunice? You've never had that sort of turn-down, have you? I don't believe it.) (Happens to every woman, Joan. Men are sissies, if we women weren't so willing, if we didn't just plain lead 'em by the hand, the race would die out.) (Uh-You know more about a woman than I do-) (Lots more!) (-so let's talk about specifics. We're clean now and I know we're pretty; I checked us in the big gla.s.s and you agreed. But it isn't the job you used to turn out. I don't mean body paint, wouldn't be appropriate now anyhow. But what does it take? Just that 'tuning up'? Exercise?) (More than that, Boss-although exercise is essential. You're talking about a professional job?) (Yes. The works.) (Well, I used to do myself-but I had had lots of practice, plus expert help from Joe. But let's say you want the best and don't care what it costs-) (Certainly! What's money? I can't get rid of it.) (All right, say you retain Helena Rubinstein, Limited, or some other top glamour shop. Say you phone and tell them to send a full team. They would send an art director-male, but he may not be all that male and he's seen more female bodies unmade-up than an undertaker-and he doesn't touch you; he's too high up. He creates. And bosses. Won't look at you until several others get you ready. Mmmm, bath girl, ma.s.seuse, manicurist, pedicurist, coiffeuse, depilatrix, parfumiste, face and skin team of at least four, costume designer, highlight and accent specialist, and a.s.sistants for all of these if you expect the job done in less than all day. If you put a time limit on it, the price goes up-and if you don't, the price goes up.) (Say that again?) (It's like taxes. Any way you play it the price goes up. Boss, we don't need them. With what I know and the cha.s.sis we have to work with and a good lady's maid, you can be as glamorous as you like. I don't know where you would find a creative paint man equal to Joe; nevertheless there are good ones for hire. We can shop the market, we'll find one.) (Eunice, I had no idea that being a woman was so complicated.) (Relax, Boss. Being a woman is easier than being a man-and lots lots more fun. I'm going to teach you to be a twenty-first-century woman-and I'd be pleased if you would teach me how it was to be a twentieth-century man, and we'll close that silly 'Generation Gap.' Understand each other as well as loving each other.) more fun. I'm going to teach you to be a twenty-first-century woman-and I'd be pleased if you would teach me how it was to be a twentieth-century man, and we'll close that silly 'Generation Gap.' Understand each other as well as loving each other.) (Beloved.) (I think you're pretty nice, too, you cranky old b.a.s.t.a.r.d. With your brain and my body, we make a fine team. We'll get by.) (I'm sure we will, darling.) (We will. The first thing we need is a good good lady's maid-scarce as whales in Kansas. We'll probably have to train one. Then lose her as soon as she's worth anything.) (Eunice, do we need a maid? You used to do yourself.) (I did, and kept house for Joe, and was your secretary and worked any hours you wanted me. But you're not used to that, Boss. You had a valet.) (Yes, of course. But I was very old and didn't have time to waste on such things. Eunice, one of the worst parts about getting old is that the days get shorter while the demands on your time increase. I didn't want a valet; I was forced into it. Didn't enjoy being dependent on a secretary, either-until lady's maid-scarce as whales in Kansas. We'll probably have to train one. Then lose her as soon as she's worth anything.) (Eunice, do we need a maid? You used to do yourself.) (I did, and kept house for Joe, and was your secretary and worked any hours you wanted me. But you're not used to that, Boss. You had a valet.) (Yes, of course. But I was very old and didn't have time to waste on such things. Eunice, one of the worst parts about getting old is that the days get shorter while the demands on your time increase. I didn't want a valet; I was forced into it. Didn't enjoy being dependent on a secretary, either-until you you came along.) came along.) (Dear Boss. Joan, we will will need a maid. But not a secretary until you're active in business again-) (Won't be!) (We'll see. You may have to be. But may not need a secretary unless you get pushed for time. I can handle it. And thanks for having Betsy brought in; it makes me feel at home to see her again. My stenodesk, I mean. Pet name.) need a maid. But not a secretary until you're active in business again-) (Won't be!) (We'll see. You may have to be. But may not need a secretary unless you get pushed for time. I can handle it. And thanks for having Betsy brought in; it makes me feel at home to see her again. My stenodesk, I mean. Pet name.) ('Betsy,' huh? I always thought of it as 'the Octopus.') (Why, what a nasty name to apply to a nice, respectable, well-behaved machine! Boss, I'm not sure I'm speaking to you. I'm glad Betsy isn't switched on; if she had heard that, her feelings would be hurt.) (Eunice, don't be silly. I wonder what's keeping Jake?) (Probably cutting his toenails. Lesson number two in how to be a woman: Men are almost always late but you never, never, never notice it-because they pride themselves on promptness. Boss, you didn't quite promise Winnie to stay in this chair-when she gave you strict orders.) (Of course not. Because it might not suit me. And it doesn't; I want to try the eighty-eight. Eunice, two gets you seven it hasn't been kept in tune-and I gave Cunningham orders about both pianos, this baby and the concert grand downstairs, not five years ago. So let's see.) She stood up, did not notice that high heels gave her no trouble, and glided gracefully over to the little piano, sat down and opened it-let the first bars of Dvorak's Slavonic Dance # 10 run through her mind, then started to play- -and achieved a clash of noise.

"What the h.e.l.l!" She looked at the keyboard, then hit middle C with her right forefinger. It sounded okay-and so did the C an octave below it. Several one- and two-finger experiments convinced her that the piano was not at fault. Yet to strike a single chord required studying the keyboard, then carefully positioning each finger by sight.

Presently she managed a slow, uneven, faulty version of "Chopsticks" by watching the keyboard and controlling her hands so hard they trembled. She quit before reaching its undistinguished coda and crashed the keys with both hands. (There go ten years of piano lessons!) (What did you expect, Boss? I was never much good even with a guitar.) (Well, I'm glad Mama didn't hear that-she always wanted me to be a concert pianist. Eunice, why the devil didn't you study piano as a kid?) (Because I was too busy studying boys! A much more rewarding subject. Joan, if you want to play the piano again, we can learn. But we'll have to start almost from scratch. It's in your head, I know; I could hear it. But to get from there down into our hands-my hands, dear-will probably take more patient work than slimming our hips.) hands, dear-will probably take more patient work than slimming our hips.) (Doesn't matter, not really.) She got up from the piano bench. (Boss. Just a sec. While we're here, let's warm up Betsy and give her a check run.) (Huh? I know nothing about a stenodesk. It'll be worse than the piano.) (We'll see.) She moved over and sat down at the stenodesk. (Well, Eunice? Which way to the Egress?) (Relax, Boss. The body remembers. Just say 'Dictation, Eunice,' then recite something you know. Think about what you're dictating.) (Okay.) "Dictation, Eunice. 'Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition. . . .'"

Deftly her hands touched the switches, swiveled the microphone in time to catch the first word, required the machine to listen & hold while she inserted punctuation, used erase & correct when the machine spelled "fourth" rather than "forth"-all without hurrying.

She stopped and looked at the result. (Be durned! How How, Eunice?) (Don't ask, dear-or we might get fouled up in the dilemma of the centipede. But Betsy is purring like a kitten; she's glad I'm back.) (Well, so am I. Uh, Eunice, this machine-Betsy, I mean-has access to the Congressional Library St. Louis Annex, does it not?-she not?) (Certainly. Hooked into the Interlibrary Net, rather, though you can restrict a query to one library.) (Better query just one. I want to find out what is known about memory and how it works.) (All right. I'm interested, too; I think my memory is spotty. Can't be sure. But on a search-of-literature it's best to let Betsy handle it through preprograms-ask for references, followed by abstracts, followed by items selected from abstracts . . . else, on a generalized question like that, thousands of books would be transmitted and poor Betsy would gulp them down until she was constipated, and stop and not do anything until her temporary memory was erased.) (You know how, I don't. Uh, stick in a restriction not to bother with behaviorist theories. I know all about Pavlov and his robots I care to know, namely, that every time a dog salivates a behaviorist psychologist has to ring a bell.) (All right. Boss? Can we spend a little more money?) (Go ahead, buy the Pyramids. What do you want, dearest?) (Let's have a Triple-A-One snoop search run on me. Eunice Branca, I mean-the 'me' that used to be.) (Why, beloved? If you've been selling government secrets, they can't touch you now.) (Because. It might fill some of those holes I think I have in my memory . . . and it might turn up something you've heard from me since I came back but which was not in the security report you got on me originally. Then you would know know, dear . . . and could stop worrying that I may be only a figment of your imagination.) (Eunice, if I'm crazy, the only thing that worries me is that some d.a.m.ned shrink might cure me. Then you would go away.) (That's sweet of you, Boss. But I won't go away; I promised.) (And even if I am am crazy, it just makes me fit that much better into the present world. Eunice, don't you remember crazy, it just makes me fit that much better into the present world. Eunice, don't you remember anything anything between being killed and waking up here?) between being killed and waking up here?) The inner voice was silent a moment. (Not really. There were dreams and I think you were in them. But there was one that does not seem like a dream; it seems as real as this room. But if I tell you, you'll think I I am crazy.) (If so, it doesn't detract from your charm, dear.) (All right but don't laugh. Joan, while I was away, I was in this-place. There was an old, old Man with a long white beard. He had a great big book. He looked at it, then He looked at me and said, 'Daughter, you've been a naughty girl. But not too naughty, so I'm going to give you a second chance.') am crazy.) (If so, it doesn't detract from your charm, dear.) (All right but don't laugh. Joan, while I was away, I was in this-place. There was an old, old Man with a long white beard. He had a great big book. He looked at it, then He looked at me and said, 'Daughter, you've been a naughty girl. But not too naughty, so I'm going to give you a second chance.') (A dream, Eunice. Anthropomorphism, straight out of your childhood Sunday School.) (Maybe, Boss. But here I am and I do do have a second chance.) have a second chance.) (Yes, but G.o.d didn't give it to you. Eunice my own, I don't believe in G.o.d nor Devil.) (Well . . . you haven't been dead-and I I have. Truly I don't know what I believe; I guess I wasn't dead long enough to find out. But do you mind if we pray occasionally?" have. Truly I don't know what I believe; I guess I wasn't dead long enough to find out. But do you mind if we pray occasionally?"

(Jesus H. Christ!) (Stop that, Joan! Or I'll use every one of those words you consider 'unladylike.' It's not much to ask.) (I'm henpecked. Okay. If it's a beautiful church, with good music, and the sermon isn't over ten minutes.) (Oh, I didn't mean in a church. church. Can't stand 'em. Filled with bad vibrations. I mean pray by ourselves, Joan. I'll teach you.) Can't stand 'em. Filled with bad vibrations. I mean pray by ourselves, Joan. I'll teach you.) (Oh. All right. Now?) (No, I want to get these search orders in. You think about something else; I don't want centipede trouble-think about Winnie all slickery with soapsuds.) (A pious thought. Much better than prayer.) (Dirty old man. How do you you know-I'll bet you've never prayed in your life.) (Oh, yes, I have, dearest-but G.o.d had gone fis.h.i.+ng.) (So think about Winnie.) know-I'll bet you've never prayed in your life.) (Oh, yes, I have, dearest-but G.o.d had gone fis.h.i.+ng.) (So think about Winnie.) She was busy for several minutes. Then she patted the machine affectionately and switched it off. (Well, did you?) (Did I what?) (Did you think about Winnie? Lecher.) (I took advantage of the unusual peace and quiet to contemplate the wonders of the universe.) (So?) (I thought about Winnie.) (I know you did; I was right with you. Joan, for a girl who is, in one sense at least, a virgin, you have an unusually low and vivid imagination.) (Aw, shucks, I'll bet you say that to all the girls.) (The stark truth, Joan sweet-with your imagination I can hardly wait for you to start us on that 'actively female' career. In all the wrestling I've done I've never had a man-or a girl-grab me the way you were thinking about.) (Oh. Learned that one from a respectable housewife, clear back in my teens. A most charming lady.) (Hmm! Perhaps I was born too late for the real action.) (So I've been trying to tell you. Did you get those orders in?) (Certainly, Boss, when did I ever miss? Let's get back to our chair; our back is tired.) Joan Eunice negotiated the thirty feet back to her chair without remembering that she had kicked off her pumps to handle the lower controls of the stenodesk more easily; the rug simply felt good to her bare feet. Then she did notice as she sat down in the big easy chair and folded her legs in the awkward, elegant, and surprisingly comfortable Lotus position. But it did not seem worthwhile to go get them.

The door buzzer sounded. "It's me, Winnie."

"Come in, dear."

The nurse entered. "Mr. Salomon asked me to tell you that he will be in to see you in a few minutes. But he can't stay for dinner."