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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #51286 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51286)
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-<pre>
-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Pen Pal, by Milton Lesser
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license
-
-
-Title: Pen Pal
-
-Author: Milton Lesser
-
-Release Date: February 23, 2016 [EBook #51286]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ASCII
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PEN PAL ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
-
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
-
-<div class="figcenter">
- <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="362" height="500" alt=""/>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="titlepage">
-<h1>PEN PAL</h1>
-
-<p>Illustrated by DON SIBLEY</p>
-
-<p>By MILTON LESSER</p>
-
-<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br />
-Galaxy Science Fiction July 1951.<br />
-Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br />
-the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p class="ph3">All she wanted was a mate and she had the gumption<br />
-to go out and hunt one down. But that meant<br />
-poaching in a strictly forbidden territory!</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p>The best that could be said for Matilda Penshaws was that she was
-something of a paradox. She was thirty-three years old, certainly not
-aged when you consider the fact that the female life expectancy is now
-up in the sixties, but the lines were beginning to etch their permanent
-paths across her face and now she needed certain remedial undergarments
-at which she would have scoffed ten or even five years ago. Matilda was
-also looking for a husband.</p>
-
-<p>This, in itself, was not unusual&mdash;but Matilda was so completely
-wrapped up in the romantic fallacy of her day that she sought a prince
-charming, a faithful Don Juan, a man who had been everywhere and tasted
-of every worldly pleasure and who now wanted to sit on a porch and
-talk about it all to Matilda.</p>
-
-<p>The fact that in all probability such a man did not exist disturbed
-Matilda not in the least. She had been known to say that there are over
-a billion men in the world, a goodly percentage of whom are eligible
-bachelors, and that the right one would come along simply because she
-had been waiting for him.</p>
-
-<p>Matilda, you see, had patience.</p>
-
-<p>She also had a fetish. Matilda had received her A.B. from exclusive
-Ursula Johns College and Radcliff had yielded her Masters degree, yet
-Matilda was an avid follower of the pen pal columns. She would read
-them carefully and then read them again, looking for the masculine
-names which, through a system known only to Matilda, had an affinity
-to her own. To the gentlemen upon whom these names were affixed,
-Matilda would write, and she often told her mother, the widow Penshaws,
-that it was in this way she would find her husband. The widow Penshaws
-impatiently told her to go out and get dates.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>That particular night, Matilda pulled her battered old sedan into the
-garage and walked up the walk to the porch. The widow Penshaws was
-rocking on the glider and Matilda said hello.</p>
-
-<p>The first thing the widow Penshaws did was to take Matilda's left hand
-in her own and examine the next-to-the-last finger.</p>
-
-<p>"I thought so," she said. "I knew this was coming when I saw that look
-in your eye at dinner. Where is Herman's engagement ring?"</p>
-
-<p>Matilda smiled. "It wouldn't have worked out, Ma. He was too darned
-stuffy. I gave him his ring and said thanks anyway and he smiled
-politely and said he wished I had told him sooner because his fifteenth
-college reunion was this weekend and he had already turned down the
-invitation."</p>
-
-<p>The widow Penshaws nodded regretfully. "That was thoughtful of Herman
-to hide his feelings."</p>
-
-<p>"Hogwash!" said her daughter. "He has no true feelings. He's sorry that
-he had to miss his college reunion. That's all he has to hide. A stuffy
-Victorian prude and even less of a man than the others."</p>
-
-<p>"But, Matilda, that's your fifth broken engagement in three years. It
-ain't that you ain't popular, but you just don't want to cooperate.
-You don't <i>fall</i> in love, Matilda&mdash;no one does. Love osmoses into you
-slowly, without you even knowing, and it keeps growing all the time."</p>
-
-<p>Matilda admired her mother's use of the word osmosis, but she found
-nothing which was not objectionable about being unaware of the impact
-of love. She said good-night and went upstairs, climbed out of her
-light summer dress and took a cold shower.</p>
-
-<p>She began to hum to herself. She had not yet seen the pen pal section
-of the current <i>Literary Review</i>, and because the subject matter of
-that magazine was somewhat highbrow and cosmopolitan, she could expect
-a gratifying selection of pen pals.</p>
-
-<p>She shut off the shower, brushed her teeth, gargled, patted herself
-dry with a towel, and jumped into bed, careful to lock the door of her
-bedroom. She dared not let the widow Penshaws know that she slept in
-the nude; the widow Penshaws would object to a girl sleeping in the
-nude, even if the nearest neighbor was three hundred yards away.</p>
-
-<p>Matilda switched her bed lamp on and dabbed some citronella on each
-ear lobe and a little droplet on her chin (how she hated insects!).
-Then she propped up her pillows&mdash;two pillows partially stopped her
-post-nasal drip; and took the latest issue of the <i>Literary Review</i>
-off the night table.</p>
-
-<p>She flipped through the pages and came to personals. Someone in
-Nebraska wanted to trade match books; someone in New York needed a
-midwestern pen pal, but it was a woman; an elderly man interested in
-ornithology wanted a young chick correspondent interested in the same
-subject; a young, personable man wanted an editorial position because
-he thought he had something to offer the editorial world; and&mdash;</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Matilda read the next one twice. Then she held it close to the light
-and read it again. The <i>Literary Review</i> was one of the few magazines
-which printed the name of the advertiser rather than a box number, and
-Matilda even liked the sound of the name. But mostly, she had to admit
-to herself, it was the flavor of the wording. This very well could be
-<i>it</i>. Or, that is, <i>him</i>.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>Intelligent, somewhat egotistical male who's really been around, whose
-universal experience can make the average cosmopolite look like a
-provincial hick, is in need of several female correspondents: must be
-intelligent, have gumption, be capable of listening to male who has a
-lot to say and wants to say it. All others need not apply. Wonderful
-opportunity cultural experience ... Haron Gorka, Cedar Falls, Ill.</p></div>
-
-<p>The man was egotistical, all right; Matilda could see that. But she had
-never minded an egotistical man, at least not when he had something
-about which he had a genuine reason to be egotistical. The man sounded
-as though he would have reason indeed. He only wanted the best because
-he was the best. Like calls to like.</p>
-
-<p>The name&mdash;Haron Gorka: its oddness was somehow beautiful to Matilda.
-Haron Gorka&mdash;the nationality could be anything. And that was it. He had
-no nationality for all intents and purposes; he was an international
-man, a figure among figures, a paragon....</p>
-
-<p>Matilda sighed happily as she put out the light. The moon shone in
-through the window brightly, and at such times Matilda generally would
-get up, go to the cupboard, pull out a towel, take two hairpins from
-her powder drawer, pin the towel to the screen of her window, and hence
-keep the disturbing moonlight from her eyes. But this time it did not
-disturb her, and she would let it shine. Cedar Falls was a small town
-not fifty miles from her home, and she'd get there a hop, skip, and
-jump ahead of her competitors, simply by arriving in person instead of
-writing a letter.</p>
-
-<p>Matilda was not yet that far gone in years or appearance. Dressed
-properly, she could hope to make a favorable impression in person, and
-she felt it was important to beat the influx of mail to Cedar Falls.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Matilda got out of bed at seven, tiptoed into the bathroom, showered
-with a merest wary trickle of water, tiptoed back into her bedroom,
-dressed in her very best cotton over the finest of uplifting and
-figure-moulding underthings, made sure her stocking seams were
-perfectly straight, brushed her suede shoes, admired herself in the
-mirror, read the ad again, wished for a moment she were a bit younger,
-and tiptoed downstairs.</p>
-
-<p>The widow Penshaws met her at the bottom of the stairwell.</p>
-
-<p>"Mother," gasped Matilda. Matilda always gasped when she saw something
-unexpected. "What on earth are you doing up?"</p>
-
-<p>The widow Penshaws smiled somewhat toothlessly, having neglected to put
-in both her uppers and lowers this early in the morning. "I'm fixing
-breakfast, of course...."</p>
-
-<p>Then the widow Penshaws told Matilda that she could never hope to sneak
-about the house without her mother knowing about it, and that even
-if she were going out in response to one of those foolish ads in the
-magazines, she would still need a good breakfast to start with like
-only mother could cook. Matilda moodily thanked the widow Penshaws.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Driving the fifty miles to Cedar Falls in a little less than an hour,
-Matilda hummed Mendelssohn's Wedding March all the way. It was her
-favorite piece of music. Once, she told herself: Matilda Penshaws, you
-are being premature about the whole thing. But she laughed and thought
-that if she was, she was, and, meanwhile, she could only get to Cedar
-Falls and find out.</p>
-
-<p>And so she got there.</p>
-
-<p>The man in the wire cage at the Cedar Falls post office was a
-stereotype. Matilda always liked to think in terms of stereotypes. This
-man was small, roundish, florid of face, with a pair of eyeglasses
-which hung too far down on his nose. Matilda knew he would peer over
-his glasses and answer questions grudgingly.</p>
-
-<p>"Hello," said Matilda.</p>
-
-<p>The stereotype grunted and peered at her over his glasses. Matilda
-asked him where she could find Haron Gorka.</p>
-
-<p>"What?"</p>
-
-<p>"I said, where can I find Haron Gorka?"</p>
-
-<p>"Is that in the United States?"</p>
-
-<p>"It's not a that; it's a he. Where can I find him? Where does he live?
-What's the quickest way to get there?"</p>
-
-<p>The stereotype pushed up his glasses and looked at her squarely. "Now
-take it easy, ma'am. First place, I don't know any Haron Gorka&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>Matilda kept the alarm from creeping into her voice. She muttered an
-<i>oh</i> under her breath and took out the ad. This she showed to the
-stereotype, and he scratched his bald head. Then he told Matilda almost
-happily that he was sorry he couldn't help her. He grudgingly suggested
-that if it really were important, she might check with the police.</p>
-
-<p>Matilda did, only they didn't know any Haron Gorka, either. It turned
-out that no one did: Matilda tried the general store, the fire
-department, the city hall, the high school, all three Cedar Falls gas
-stations, the livery stable, and half a dozen private dwellings at
-random. As far us the gentry of Cedar Falls was concerned, Haron Gorka
-did not exist.</p>
-
-<p>Matilda felt bad, but she had no intention of returning home this
-early. If she could not find Haron Gorka, that was one thing; but she
-knew that she'd rather not return home and face the widow Penshaws, at
-least not for a while yet. The widow Penshaws meant well, but she liked
-to analyze other people's mistakes, especially Matilda's.</p>
-
-<p>Accordingly, Matilda trudged wearily toward Cedar Falls' small and
-unimposing library. She could release some of her pent-up aggression by
-browsing through the dusty slacks.</p>
-
-<p>This she did, but it was unrewarding. Cedar Falls had what might be
-called a microscopic library, and Matilda thought that if this small
-building were filled with microfilm rather than books, the library
-still would be lacking. Hence she retraced her steps and nodded to the
-old librarian as she passed.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Then Matilda frowned. Twenty years from now, this could be Matilda
-Penshaws&mdash;complete with plain gray dress, rimless spectacles, gray
-hair, suspicious eyes, and a broom-stick figure....</p>
-
-<p>On the other hand&mdash;why not? Why couldn't the librarian help her? Why
-hadn't she thought of it before? Certainly a man as well-educated as
-Haron Gorka would be an avid reader, and unless he had a permanent
-residence here in Cedar Palls, one couldn't expect that he'd have his
-own library with him. This being the case, a third-rate collection
-of books was far better than no collection at all, and perhaps the
-librarian would know Mr. Haron Gorka.</p>
-
-<p>Matilda cleared her throat. "Pardon me," she began. "I'm looking for&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"Haron Gorka." The librarian nodded.</p>
-
-<p>"How on earth did you know?"</p>
-
-<p>"That's easy. You're the sixth young woman who came here inquiring
-about that man today. Six of you&mdash;five others in the morning, and now
-you in the afternoon. I never did trust this Mr. Gorka...."</p>
-
-<p>Matilda jumped as if she had been struck strategically from the rear.
-"You know him? You know Haron Gorka?"</p>
-
-<p>"Certainly. Of course I know him. He's our steadiest reader here at
-the library. Not a week goes by that he doesn't take out three, four
-books. Scholarly gentleman, but not without charm. If I were twenty
-years younger&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>Matilda thought a little flattery might be effective. "Only ten," she
-assured the librarian. "Ten years would be more than sufficient, I'm
-sure."</p>
-
-<p>"Are you? Well. Well, well." The librarian did something with the back
-of her hair, but it looked the same as before. "Maybe you're right.
-Maybe you're right at that." Then she sighed. "But I guess a miss is as
-good as a mile."</p>
-
-<p>"What do you mean?"</p>
-
-<p>"I mean anyone would like to correspond with Haron Gorka. Or to know
-him well. To be considered his friend. Haron Gorka...."</p>
-
-<p>The librarian seemed about to soar off into the air someplace, and if
-five women had been here first, Matilda was now definitely in a hurry.</p>
-
-<p>"Um, where can I find Mr. Gorka?"</p>
-
-<p>"I'm not supposed to do this, you know. We're not permitted to give the
-addresses of any of our people. Against regulations, my dear."</p>
-
-<p>"What about the other five women?"</p>
-
-<p>"They convinced me that I ought to give them his address."</p>
-
-<p>Matilda reached into her pocket-book and withdrew a five dollar bill.
-"Was this the way?" she demanded. Matilda was not very good at this
-sort of thing.</p>
-
-<p>The librarian shook her head.</p>
-
-<p>Matilda nodded shrewdly and added a twin brother to the bill in her
-hand. "Then is this better?"</p>
-
-<p>"That's worse. I wouldn't take your money&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"Sorry. What then?"</p>
-
-<p>"If I can't enjoy an association with Haron Gorka directly, I still
-could get the vicarious pleasure of your contact with him. Report to me
-faithfully and you'll get his address. That's what the other five will
-do, and with half a dozen of you, I'll get an overall picture. Each one
-of you will tell me about Haron Gorka, sparing no details. You each
-have a distinct personality, of course, and it will color each picture
-considerably. But with six of you reporting, I should receive my share
-of vicarious enjoyment. Is it&mdash;ah&mdash;a deal?"</p>
-
-<p>Matilda assured her that it was, and, breathlessly, she wrote down the
-address. She thanked the librarian and then she went out to her car,
-whistling to herself.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Haron Gorka lived in what could have been an agrarian estate, except
-that the land no longer was being tilled. The house itself had fallen
-to ruin. This surprised Matilda, but she did not let it keep her
-spirits in check. Haron Gorka, the man, was what counted, and the
-librarian's account of him certainly had been glowing enough. Perhaps
-he was too busy with his cultural pursuits to pay any real attention to
-his dwelling. That was it, of course: the conspicuous show of wealth or
-personal industry meant nothing at all to Haron Gorka. Matilda liked
-him all the more for it.</p>
-
-<p>There were five cars parked in the long driveway, and now Matilda's
-made the sixth. In spite of herself, she smiled. She had not been the
-only one with the idea to visit Haron Gorka in person. With half a
-dozen of them there, the laggards who resorted to posting letters would
-be left far behind. Matilda congratulated herself for what she thought
-had been her ingenuity, and which now turned out to be something which
-she had in common with five other women. You live and learn, thought
-Matilda. And then, quite annoyedly, she berated herself for not having
-been the first. Perhaps the other five all were satisfactory; perhaps
-she wouldn't be needed; perhaps she was too late....</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>As it turned out, she wasn't. Not only that, she was welcomed with open
-arms. Not by Haron Gorka; that she really might have liked. Instead,
-someone she could only regard as a menial met her, and when he asked
-had she come in response to the advertisement, she nodded eagerly.
-He told her that was fine and he ushered her straight into a room
-which evidently was to be her living quarters. It contained a small
-undersized bed, a table, and a chair, and, near a little slot in the
-wall, there was a button.</p>
-
-<p>"You want any food or drink," the servant told her, "and you just press
-that button. The results will surprise you."</p>
-
-<p>"What about Mr. Gorka?"</p>
-
-<p>"When he wants you, he will send for you. Meanwhile, make yourself to
-home, lady, and I will tell him you are here."</p>
-
-<p>A little doubtful now, Matilda thanked him and watched him leave. He
-closed the door softly behind his retreating feet, but Matilda's ears
-had not missed the ominous click. She ran to the door and tried to open
-it, but it would not budge. It was locked&mdash;from the outside.</p>
-
-<p>It must be said to Matilda's favor that she sobbed only once. After
-that she realized that what is done is done and here, past thirty,
-she wasn't going to be girlishly timid about it. Besides, it was not
-her fault if, in his unconcern, Haron Gorka had unwittingly hired a
-neurotic servant.</p>
-
-<p>For a time Matilda paced back and forth in her room, and of what was
-going on outside she could hear nothing. In that case, she would
-pretend that there was nothing outside the little room, and presently
-she lay down on the bed to take a nap. This didn't last long, however:
-she had a nightmare in which Haron Gorka appeared as a giant with two
-heads, but, upon awaking with a start, she immediately ascribed that to
-her overwrought nerves.</p>
-
-<p>At that point she remembered what the servant had said about food and
-she thought at once of the supreme justice she could do to a juicy
-beefsteak. Well, maybe they didn't have a beefsteak. In that case, she
-would take what they had, and, accordingly, she walked to the little
-slot in the wall and pressed the button.</p>
-
-<p>She heard the whir of machinery. A moment later there was a soft
-sliding sound. Through the slot first came a delicious aroma, followed
-almost instantly by a tray. On the tray were a bowl of turtle soup,
-mashed potatoes, green peas, bread, a strange cocktail, root-beer, a
-parfait&mdash;and a thick tenderloin sizzling in hot butter sauce.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="figcenter">
- <img src="images/illus1.jpg" width="365" height="500" alt=""/>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p>Matilda gasped once and felt about to gasp again&mdash;but by then her
-salivary glands were working overtime, and she ate her meal. The fact
-that it was precisely what she would have wanted could, of course, be
-attributed to coincidence, and the further fact that everything was
-extremely palatable made her forget all about Haron Gorka's neurotic
-servant.</p>
-
-<p>When she finished her meal a pleasant lethargy possessed her, and in a
-little while Matilda was asleep again. This time she did not dream at
-all. It was a deep sleep and a restful one, and when she awoke it was
-with the wonderful feeling that everything was all right.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>The feeling did not last long. Standing over her was Haron Gorka's
-servant, and he said, "Mr. Gorka will see you now."</p>
-
-<p>"Now?"</p>
-
-<p>"Now. That's what you're here for, isn't it?"</p>
-
-<p>He had a point there, but Matilda hardly even had time to fix her hair.
-She told the servant so.</p>
-
-<p>"Miss," he replied, "I assure you it will not matter in the least to
-Haron Gorka. You are here and he is ready to see you and that is all
-that matters."</p>
-
-<p>"You sure?" Matilda wanted to take no chances.</p>
-
-<p>"Yes. Come."</p>
-
-<p>She followed him out of the little room and across what should have
-been a spacious dining area, except that everything seemed covered with
-dust. Of the other women Matilda could see nothing, and she suddenly
-realized that each of them probably had a cubicle of a room like her
-own, and that each in her turn had already had her first visit with
-Haron Gorka. Well, then, she must see to it that she impressed him
-better than did all the rest, and, later, when she returned to tell the
-old librarian of her adventures, she could perhaps draw her out and
-compare notes.</p>
-
-<p>She would not admit even to herself that she was disappointed with
-Haron Gorka. It was not that he was homely and unimpressive; it was
-just that he was so <i>ordinary</i>-looking. She almost would have preferred
-the monster of her dreams.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>He wore a white linen suit and he had mousy hair, drab eyes, an
-almost-Roman nose, a petulant mouth with the slight arch of the egotist
-at each corner.</p>
-
-<p>He said, "Greetings. You have come&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"In response to your ad. How do you do, Mr. Gorka?"</p>
-
-<p>She hoped she wasn't being too formal. But, then, there was no sense in
-assuming that he would like informality. She could only wait and see
-and adjust her own actions to suit him. Meanwhile, it would be best to
-keep on the middle of the road.</p>
-
-<p>"I am fine. Are you ready?"</p>
-
-<p>"Ready?"</p>
-
-<p>"Certainly. You came in response to my ad. You want to hear me talk, do
-you not?"</p>
-
-<p>"I&mdash;do." Matilda had had visions of her prince charming sitting back
-and relaxing with her, telling her of the many things he had done and
-seen. But first she certainly would have liked to get to <i>know</i> the
-man. Well, Haron Gorka obviously had more experience along these lines
-than she did. He waited, however, as if wondering what to say, and
-Matilda, accustomed to social chatter, gave him a gambit.</p>
-
-<p>"I must admit I was surprised when I got exactly what I wanted for
-dinner," she told him brightly.</p>
-
-<p>"Eh? What say? Oh, yes, naturally. A combination of telepathy and
-teleportation. The synthetic cookery is attuned to your mind when you
-press the buzzer, and the strength of your psychic impulses determines
-how closely the meal will adjust to your desires. The fact that the
-adjustment here was near perfect is commendable. It means either that
-you have a high psi-quotient, or that you were very hungry."</p>
-
-<p>"Yes," said Matilda vaguely. Perhaps it might be better, after all, if
-Haron Gorka were to talk to her as he saw fit.</p>
-
-<p>"Ready?"</p>
-
-<p>"Uh&mdash;ready."</p>
-
-<p>"Well?"</p>
-
-<p>"Well, what, Mr. Gorka?"</p>
-
-<p>"What would you like me to talk about?"</p>
-
-<p>"Oh, anything."</p>
-
-<p>"Please. As the ad read, my universal experience&mdash;is universal.
-Literally. You'll have to be more specific."</p>
-
-<p>"Well, why don't you tell me about some of your far travels?
-Unfortunately, while I've done a lot of reading, I haven't been to all
-the places I would have liked&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"Good enough. You know, of course, how frigid Deneb VII is?"</p>
-
-<p>Matilda said, "Beg pardon?"</p>
-
-<p>"Well, there was the time our crew&mdash;before I had retired, of
-course&mdash;made a crash landing there. We could survive in the vac-suits,
-of course, but the <i>thlomots</i> were after us almost at once. They go
-mad over plastic. They will eat absolutely any sort of plastic. Our
-vac-suits&mdash;"</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="figcenter">
- <img src="images/illus2.jpg" width="600" height="446" alt=""/>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p>"&mdash;were made of plastic," Matilda suggested. She did not understand a
-thing he was talking about, but she felt she had better act bright.</p>
-
-<p>"No, no. Must you interrupt? The air-hose and the water feed, these
-were plastic. Not the rest of the suit. The point is that half of us
-were destroyed before the rescue ship could come, and the remainder
-were near death. I owe my life to the mimicry of a <i>flaak</i> from Capella
-III. It assumed the properties of plastic and led the <i>thlomots</i> a
-merry chase across the frozen surface of D VII. You travel in the Deneb
-system now and Interstellar Ordinance makes it mandatory to carry
-<i>flaaks</i> with you. Excellent idea, really excellent."</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Almost at once, Matilda's educational background should have told her
-that Haron Gorka was mouthing gibberish. But on the other hand she
-<i>wanted</i> to believe in him and the result was that it took until now
-for her to realize it.</p>
-
-<p>"Stop making fun of me," she said.</p>
-
-<p>"So, naturally, you'll see <i>flaaks</i> all over that system&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"Stop!"</p>
-
-<p>"What's that? Making fun of you?" Haron Gorka's voice had been so
-eager as he spoke, high-pitched, almost like a child's, and now he
-seemed disappointed. He smiled, but it was a sad smile, a smile of
-resignation, and he said, "Very well. I'm wrong again. You are the
-sixth, and you're no better than the other five. Perhaps you are even
-more outspoken. When you see my wife, tell her to come back. Again she
-is right and I am wrong...."</p>
-
-<p>Haron Gorka turned his back.</p>
-
-<p>Matilda could do nothing but leave the room, walk back through the
-house, go outside and get into her car. She noticed not without
-surprise that the other five cars were now gone. She was the last of
-Haron Gorka's guests to depart.</p>
-
-<p>As she shifted into reverse and pulled out of the driveway, she saw
-the servant leaving, too. Far down the road, he was walking slowly.
-Then Haron Gorka had severed that relationship, too, and now he was all
-alone.</p>
-
-<p>As she drove back to town, the disappointment melted slowly away. There
-were, of course, two alternatives. Either Haron Gorka was an eccentric
-who enjoyed this sort of outlandish tomfoolery, or else he was plainly
-insane. She could still picture him ranting on aimlessly to no one in
-particular about places which had no existence outside of his mind, his
-voice high-pitched and eager.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>It was not until she had passed the small library building that she
-remembered what she had promised the librarian. In her own way, the
-aging woman would be as disappointed as Matilda, but a promise was a
-promise, and Matilda turned the car in a wide U-turn and parked it
-outside the library.</p>
-
-<p>The woman sat at her desk as Matilda had remembered her, gray,
-broom-stick figure, rigid. But now when she saw Matilda she perked up
-visibly.</p>
-
-<p>"Hello, my dear," she said.</p>
-
-<p>"Hi."</p>
-
-<p>"You're back a bit sooner than I expected. But, then, the other five
-have returned, too, and I imagine your story will be similar."</p>
-
-<p>"I don't know what they told you," Matilda said. "But this is what
-happened to me."</p>
-
-<p>She quickly then related everything which had happened, completely and
-in detail. She did this first because it was a promise, and second
-because she knew it would make her feel better.</p>
-
-<p>"So," she finished, "Haron Gorka is either extremely eccentric or
-insane. I'm sorry."</p>
-
-<p>"He's neither," the librarian contradicted. "Perhaps he is slightly
-eccentric by your standards, but really, my dear, he is neither."</p>
-
-<p>"What do you mean?"</p>
-
-<p>"Did he leave a message for his wife?"</p>
-
-<p>"Why, yes. Yes, he did. But how did you know? Oh, I suppose he told the
-five."</p>
-
-<p>"No. He didn't. But you were the last and I thought he would give you a
-message for his wife&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>Matilda didn't understand. She didn't understand at all, but she told
-the little librarian what the message was. "He wanted her to return,"
-she said.</p>
-
-<p>The librarian nodded, a happy smile on her lips. "You wouldn't believe
-me if I told you something."</p>
-
-<p>"What's that?"</p>
-
-<p>"I am Mrs. Gorka."</p>
-
-<p>The librarian stood up and came around the desk. She opened a drawer
-and took out her hat and perched it jauntily atop her gray hair. "You
-see, my dear, Haron expects too much. He expects entirely too much."</p>
-
-<p>Matilda did not say a word. One madman a day would be quite enough for
-anybody, but here she found herself confronted with two.</p>
-
-<p>"We've been tripping for centuries, visiting every habitable star
-system from our home near Canopus. But Haron is too demanding. He
-says I am a finicky traveler, that he could do much better alone, the
-accommodations have to be just right for me, and so forth. When he
-loses his temper, he tries to convince me that any number of females of
-the particular planet would be more than thrilled if they were given
-the opportunity just to listen to him.</p>
-
-<p>"But he's wrong. It's a hard life for a woman. Someday&mdash;five thousand,
-ten thousand years from now&mdash;I will convince him. And then we will
-settle down on Canopus XIV and cultivate <i>torgas</i>. That would be so
-nice&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"I'm sure."</p>
-
-<p>"Well, if Haron wants me back, then I have to go. Have a care, my dear.
-If you marry, choose a home-body. I've had the experience and you've
-seen my Haron for yourself."</p>
-
-<p>And then the woman was gone. Numbly, Matilda walked to the doorway and
-watched her angular figure disappear down the road. Of all the crazy
-things....</p>
-
-<p>Deneb and Capella and Canopus, these were stars. Add a number and you
-might have a planet revolving about each star. Of all the insane&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>They were mad, all right, and now Matilda wondered if, actually,
-they were husband and wife. It could readily be; maybe the madness
-was catching. Maybe if you thought too much about such things, such
-travels, you could get that way. Of course, Herman represented the
-other extreme, and Herman was even worse in his own way&mdash;but hereafter
-Matilda would seek the happy medium.</p>
-
-<p>And, above all else, she had had enough of her pen pal columns. They
-were, she realized, for kids.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>She ate dinner in Cedar Falls and then she went out to her car again,
-preparing for the journey back home. The sun had set and it was a clear
-night, and overhead the great broad sweep of the Milky Way was a pale
-rainbow bridge in the sky.</p>
-
-<p>Matilda paused. Off in the distance there was a glow on the horizon,
-and that was the direction of Haron Gorka's place.</p>
-
-<p>The glow increased; soon it was a bright red pulse pounding on the
-horizon. It flickered. It flickered again, and finally it was gone.</p>
-
-<p>The stars were white and brilliant in the clear country air. That was
-why Matilda liked the country better than the city, particularly on a
-clear summer night when you could see the span of the Milky Way.</p>
-
-<p>But abruptly the stars and the Milky Way were paled by the brightest
-shooting star Matilda had ever seen. It flashed suddenly and it
-remained in view for a full second, searing a bright orange path across
-the night sky.</p>
-
-<p>Matilda gasped and ran into her car. She started the gears and pressed
-the accelerator to the floor, keeping it there all the way home.</p>
-
-<p>It was the first time she had ever seen a shooting star going <i>up</i>.</p>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Pen Pal, by Milton Lesser
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Pen Pal, by Milton Lesser
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license
-
-
-Title: Pen Pal
-
-Author: Milton Lesser
-
-Release Date: February 23, 2016 [EBook #51286]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ASCII
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PEN PAL ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
- PEN PAL
-
- Illustrated by DON SIBLEY
-
- By MILTON LESSER
-
- [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
- Galaxy Science Fiction July 1951.
- Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
- the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
-
-
-
-
- All she wanted was a mate and she had the gumption
- to go out and hunt one down. But that meant
- poaching in a strictly forbidden territory!
-
-
-The best that could be said for Matilda Penshaws was that she was
-something of a paradox. She was thirty-three years old, certainly not
-aged when you consider the fact that the female life expectancy is now
-up in the sixties, but the lines were beginning to etch their permanent
-paths across her face and now she needed certain remedial undergarments
-at which she would have scoffed ten or even five years ago. Matilda was
-also looking for a husband.
-
-This, in itself, was not unusual--but Matilda was so completely
-wrapped up in the romantic fallacy of her day that she sought a prince
-charming, a faithful Don Juan, a man who had been everywhere and tasted
-of every worldly pleasure and who now wanted to sit on a porch and
-talk about it all to Matilda.
-
-The fact that in all probability such a man did not exist disturbed
-Matilda not in the least. She had been known to say that there are over
-a billion men in the world, a goodly percentage of whom are eligible
-bachelors, and that the right one would come along simply because she
-had been waiting for him.
-
-Matilda, you see, had patience.
-
-She also had a fetish. Matilda had received her A.B. from exclusive
-Ursula Johns College and Radcliff had yielded her Masters degree, yet
-Matilda was an avid follower of the pen pal columns. She would read
-them carefully and then read them again, looking for the masculine
-names which, through a system known only to Matilda, had an affinity
-to her own. To the gentlemen upon whom these names were affixed,
-Matilda would write, and she often told her mother, the widow Penshaws,
-that it was in this way she would find her husband. The widow Penshaws
-impatiently told her to go out and get dates.
-
- * * * * *
-
-That particular night, Matilda pulled her battered old sedan into the
-garage and walked up the walk to the porch. The widow Penshaws was
-rocking on the glider and Matilda said hello.
-
-The first thing the widow Penshaws did was to take Matilda's left hand
-in her own and examine the next-to-the-last finger.
-
-"I thought so," she said. "I knew this was coming when I saw that look
-in your eye at dinner. Where is Herman's engagement ring?"
-
-Matilda smiled. "It wouldn't have worked out, Ma. He was too darned
-stuffy. I gave him his ring and said thanks anyway and he smiled
-politely and said he wished I had told him sooner because his fifteenth
-college reunion was this weekend and he had already turned down the
-invitation."
-
-The widow Penshaws nodded regretfully. "That was thoughtful of Herman
-to hide his feelings."
-
-"Hogwash!" said her daughter. "He has no true feelings. He's sorry that
-he had to miss his college reunion. That's all he has to hide. A stuffy
-Victorian prude and even less of a man than the others."
-
-"But, Matilda, that's your fifth broken engagement in three years. It
-ain't that you ain't popular, but you just don't want to cooperate.
-You don't _fall_ in love, Matilda--no one does. Love osmoses into you
-slowly, without you even knowing, and it keeps growing all the time."
-
-Matilda admired her mother's use of the word osmosis, but she found
-nothing which was not objectionable about being unaware of the impact
-of love. She said good-night and went upstairs, climbed out of her
-light summer dress and took a cold shower.
-
-She began to hum to herself. She had not yet seen the pen pal section
-of the current _Literary Review_, and because the subject matter of
-that magazine was somewhat highbrow and cosmopolitan, she could expect
-a gratifying selection of pen pals.
-
-She shut off the shower, brushed her teeth, gargled, patted herself
-dry with a towel, and jumped into bed, careful to lock the door of her
-bedroom. She dared not let the widow Penshaws know that she slept in
-the nude; the widow Penshaws would object to a girl sleeping in the
-nude, even if the nearest neighbor was three hundred yards away.
-
-Matilda switched her bed lamp on and dabbed some citronella on each
-ear lobe and a little droplet on her chin (how she hated insects!).
-Then she propped up her pillows--two pillows partially stopped her
-post-nasal drip; and took the latest issue of the _Literary Review_
-off the night table.
-
-She flipped through the pages and came to personals. Someone in
-Nebraska wanted to trade match books; someone in New York needed a
-midwestern pen pal, but it was a woman; an elderly man interested in
-ornithology wanted a young chick correspondent interested in the same
-subject; a young, personable man wanted an editorial position because
-he thought he had something to offer the editorial world; and--
-
- * * * * *
-
-Matilda read the next one twice. Then she held it close to the light
-and read it again. The _Literary Review_ was one of the few magazines
-which printed the name of the advertiser rather than a box number, and
-Matilda even liked the sound of the name. But mostly, she had to admit
-to herself, it was the flavor of the wording. This very well could be
-_it_. Or, that is, _him_.
-
- Intelligent, somewhat egotistical male who's really been around,
- whose universal experience can make the average cosmopolite look
- like a provincial hick, is in need of several female
- correspondents: must be intelligent, have gumption, be capable of
- listening to male who has a lot to say and wants to say it. All
- others need not apply. Wonderful opportunity cultural
- experience ... Haron Gorka, Cedar Falls, Ill.
-
-The man was egotistical, all right; Matilda could see that. But she had
-never minded an egotistical man, at least not when he had something
-about which he had a genuine reason to be egotistical. The man sounded
-as though he would have reason indeed. He only wanted the best because
-he was the best. Like calls to like.
-
-The name--Haron Gorka: its oddness was somehow beautiful to Matilda.
-Haron Gorka--the nationality could be anything. And that was it. He had
-no nationality for all intents and purposes; he was an international
-man, a figure among figures, a paragon....
-
-Matilda sighed happily as she put out the light. The moon shone in
-through the window brightly, and at such times Matilda generally would
-get up, go to the cupboard, pull out a towel, take two hairpins from
-her powder drawer, pin the towel to the screen of her window, and hence
-keep the disturbing moonlight from her eyes. But this time it did not
-disturb her, and she would let it shine. Cedar Falls was a small town
-not fifty miles from her home, and she'd get there a hop, skip, and
-jump ahead of her competitors, simply by arriving in person instead of
-writing a letter.
-
-Matilda was not yet that far gone in years or appearance. Dressed
-properly, she could hope to make a favorable impression in person, and
-she felt it was important to beat the influx of mail to Cedar Falls.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Matilda got out of bed at seven, tiptoed into the bathroom, showered
-with a merest wary trickle of water, tiptoed back into her bedroom,
-dressed in her very best cotton over the finest of uplifting and
-figure-moulding underthings, made sure her stocking seams were
-perfectly straight, brushed her suede shoes, admired herself in the
-mirror, read the ad again, wished for a moment she were a bit younger,
-and tiptoed downstairs.
-
-The widow Penshaws met her at the bottom of the stairwell.
-
-"Mother," gasped Matilda. Matilda always gasped when she saw something
-unexpected. "What on earth are you doing up?"
-
-The widow Penshaws smiled somewhat toothlessly, having neglected to put
-in both her uppers and lowers this early in the morning. "I'm fixing
-breakfast, of course...."
-
-Then the widow Penshaws told Matilda that she could never hope to sneak
-about the house without her mother knowing about it, and that even
-if she were going out in response to one of those foolish ads in the
-magazines, she would still need a good breakfast to start with like
-only mother could cook. Matilda moodily thanked the widow Penshaws.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Driving the fifty miles to Cedar Falls in a little less than an hour,
-Matilda hummed Mendelssohn's Wedding March all the way. It was her
-favorite piece of music. Once, she told herself: Matilda Penshaws, you
-are being premature about the whole thing. But she laughed and thought
-that if she was, she was, and, meanwhile, she could only get to Cedar
-Falls and find out.
-
-And so she got there.
-
-The man in the wire cage at the Cedar Falls post office was a
-stereotype. Matilda always liked to think in terms of stereotypes. This
-man was small, roundish, florid of face, with a pair of eyeglasses
-which hung too far down on his nose. Matilda knew he would peer over
-his glasses and answer questions grudgingly.
-
-"Hello," said Matilda.
-
-The stereotype grunted and peered at her over his glasses. Matilda
-asked him where she could find Haron Gorka.
-
-"What?"
-
-"I said, where can I find Haron Gorka?"
-
-"Is that in the United States?"
-
-"It's not a that; it's a he. Where can I find him? Where does he live?
-What's the quickest way to get there?"
-
-The stereotype pushed up his glasses and looked at her squarely. "Now
-take it easy, ma'am. First place, I don't know any Haron Gorka--"
-
-Matilda kept the alarm from creeping into her voice. She muttered an
-_oh_ under her breath and took out the ad. This she showed to the
-stereotype, and he scratched his bald head. Then he told Matilda almost
-happily that he was sorry he couldn't help her. He grudgingly suggested
-that if it really were important, she might check with the police.
-
-Matilda did, only they didn't know any Haron Gorka, either. It turned
-out that no one did: Matilda tried the general store, the fire
-department, the city hall, the high school, all three Cedar Falls gas
-stations, the livery stable, and half a dozen private dwellings at
-random. As far us the gentry of Cedar Falls was concerned, Haron Gorka
-did not exist.
-
-Matilda felt bad, but she had no intention of returning home this
-early. If she could not find Haron Gorka, that was one thing; but she
-knew that she'd rather not return home and face the widow Penshaws, at
-least not for a while yet. The widow Penshaws meant well, but she liked
-to analyze other people's mistakes, especially Matilda's.
-
-Accordingly, Matilda trudged wearily toward Cedar Falls' small and
-unimposing library. She could release some of her pent-up aggression by
-browsing through the dusty slacks.
-
-This she did, but it was unrewarding. Cedar Falls had what might be
-called a microscopic library, and Matilda thought that if this small
-building were filled with microfilm rather than books, the library
-still would be lacking. Hence she retraced her steps and nodded to the
-old librarian as she passed.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Then Matilda frowned. Twenty years from now, this could be Matilda
-Penshaws--complete with plain gray dress, rimless spectacles, gray
-hair, suspicious eyes, and a broom-stick figure....
-
-On the other hand--why not? Why couldn't the librarian help her? Why
-hadn't she thought of it before? Certainly a man as well-educated as
-Haron Gorka would be an avid reader, and unless he had a permanent
-residence here in Cedar Palls, one couldn't expect that he'd have his
-own library with him. This being the case, a third-rate collection
-of books was far better than no collection at all, and perhaps the
-librarian would know Mr. Haron Gorka.
-
-Matilda cleared her throat. "Pardon me," she began. "I'm looking for--"
-
-"Haron Gorka." The librarian nodded.
-
-"How on earth did you know?"
-
-"That's easy. You're the sixth young woman who came here inquiring
-about that man today. Six of you--five others in the morning, and now
-you in the afternoon. I never did trust this Mr. Gorka...."
-
-Matilda jumped as if she had been struck strategically from the rear.
-"You know him? You know Haron Gorka?"
-
-"Certainly. Of course I know him. He's our steadiest reader here at
-the library. Not a week goes by that he doesn't take out three, four
-books. Scholarly gentleman, but not without charm. If I were twenty
-years younger--"
-
-Matilda thought a little flattery might be effective. "Only ten," she
-assured the librarian. "Ten years would be more than sufficient, I'm
-sure."
-
-"Are you? Well. Well, well." The librarian did something with the back
-of her hair, but it looked the same as before. "Maybe you're right.
-Maybe you're right at that." Then she sighed. "But I guess a miss is as
-good as a mile."
-
-"What do you mean?"
-
-"I mean anyone would like to correspond with Haron Gorka. Or to know
-him well. To be considered his friend. Haron Gorka...."
-
-The librarian seemed about to soar off into the air someplace, and if
-five women had been here first, Matilda was now definitely in a hurry.
-
-"Um, where can I find Mr. Gorka?"
-
-"I'm not supposed to do this, you know. We're not permitted to give the
-addresses of any of our people. Against regulations, my dear."
-
-"What about the other five women?"
-
-"They convinced me that I ought to give them his address."
-
-Matilda reached into her pocket-book and withdrew a five dollar bill.
-"Was this the way?" she demanded. Matilda was not very good at this
-sort of thing.
-
-The librarian shook her head.
-
-Matilda nodded shrewdly and added a twin brother to the bill in her
-hand. "Then is this better?"
-
-"That's worse. I wouldn't take your money--"
-
-"Sorry. What then?"
-
-"If I can't enjoy an association with Haron Gorka directly, I still
-could get the vicarious pleasure of your contact with him. Report to me
-faithfully and you'll get his address. That's what the other five will
-do, and with half a dozen of you, I'll get an overall picture. Each one
-of you will tell me about Haron Gorka, sparing no details. You each
-have a distinct personality, of course, and it will color each picture
-considerably. But with six of you reporting, I should receive my share
-of vicarious enjoyment. Is it--ah--a deal?"
-
-Matilda assured her that it was, and, breathlessly, she wrote down the
-address. She thanked the librarian and then she went out to her car,
-whistling to herself.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Haron Gorka lived in what could have been an agrarian estate, except
-that the land no longer was being tilled. The house itself had fallen
-to ruin. This surprised Matilda, but she did not let it keep her
-spirits in check. Haron Gorka, the man, was what counted, and the
-librarian's account of him certainly had been glowing enough. Perhaps
-he was too busy with his cultural pursuits to pay any real attention to
-his dwelling. That was it, of course: the conspicuous show of wealth or
-personal industry meant nothing at all to Haron Gorka. Matilda liked
-him all the more for it.
-
-There were five cars parked in the long driveway, and now Matilda's
-made the sixth. In spite of herself, she smiled. She had not been the
-only one with the idea to visit Haron Gorka in person. With half a
-dozen of them there, the laggards who resorted to posting letters would
-be left far behind. Matilda congratulated herself for what she thought
-had been her ingenuity, and which now turned out to be something which
-she had in common with five other women. You live and learn, thought
-Matilda. And then, quite annoyedly, she berated herself for not having
-been the first. Perhaps the other five all were satisfactory; perhaps
-she wouldn't be needed; perhaps she was too late....
-
- * * * * *
-
-As it turned out, she wasn't. Not only that, she was welcomed with open
-arms. Not by Haron Gorka; that she really might have liked. Instead,
-someone she could only regard as a menial met her, and when he asked
-had she come in response to the advertisement, she nodded eagerly.
-He told her that was fine and he ushered her straight into a room
-which evidently was to be her living quarters. It contained a small
-undersized bed, a table, and a chair, and, near a little slot in the
-wall, there was a button.
-
-"You want any food or drink," the servant told her, "and you just press
-that button. The results will surprise you."
-
-"What about Mr. Gorka?"
-
-"When he wants you, he will send for you. Meanwhile, make yourself to
-home, lady, and I will tell him you are here."
-
-A little doubtful now, Matilda thanked him and watched him leave. He
-closed the door softly behind his retreating feet, but Matilda's ears
-had not missed the ominous click. She ran to the door and tried to open
-it, but it would not budge. It was locked--from the outside.
-
-It must be said to Matilda's favor that she sobbed only once. After
-that she realized that what is done is done and here, past thirty,
-she wasn't going to be girlishly timid about it. Besides, it was not
-her fault if, in his unconcern, Haron Gorka had unwittingly hired a
-neurotic servant.
-
-For a time Matilda paced back and forth in her room, and of what was
-going on outside she could hear nothing. In that case, she would
-pretend that there was nothing outside the little room, and presently
-she lay down on the bed to take a nap. This didn't last long, however:
-she had a nightmare in which Haron Gorka appeared as a giant with two
-heads, but, upon awaking with a start, she immediately ascribed that to
-her overwrought nerves.
-
-At that point she remembered what the servant had said about food and
-she thought at once of the supreme justice she could do to a juicy
-beefsteak. Well, maybe they didn't have a beefsteak. In that case, she
-would take what they had, and, accordingly, she walked to the little
-slot in the wall and pressed the button.
-
-She heard the whir of machinery. A moment later there was a soft
-sliding sound. Through the slot first came a delicious aroma, followed
-almost instantly by a tray. On the tray were a bowl of turtle soup,
-mashed potatoes, green peas, bread, a strange cocktail, root-beer, a
-parfait--and a thick tenderloin sizzling in hot butter sauce.
-
-Matilda gasped once and felt about to gasp again--but by then her
-salivary glands were working overtime, and she ate her meal. The fact
-that it was precisely what she would have wanted could, of course, be
-attributed to coincidence, and the further fact that everything was
-extremely palatable made her forget all about Haron Gorka's neurotic
-servant.
-
-When she finished her meal a pleasant lethargy possessed her, and in a
-little while Matilda was asleep again. This time she did not dream at
-all. It was a deep sleep and a restful one, and when she awoke it was
-with the wonderful feeling that everything was all right.
-
- * * * * *
-
-The feeling did not last long. Standing over her was Haron Gorka's
-servant, and he said, "Mr. Gorka will see you now."
-
-"Now?"
-
-"Now. That's what you're here for, isn't it?"
-
-He had a point there, but Matilda hardly even had time to fix her hair.
-She told the servant so.
-
-"Miss," he replied, "I assure you it will not matter in the least to
-Haron Gorka. You are here and he is ready to see you and that is all
-that matters."
-
-"You sure?" Matilda wanted to take no chances.
-
-"Yes. Come."
-
-She followed him out of the little room and across what should have
-been a spacious dining area, except that everything seemed covered with
-dust. Of the other women Matilda could see nothing, and she suddenly
-realized that each of them probably had a cubicle of a room like her
-own, and that each in her turn had already had her first visit with
-Haron Gorka. Well, then, she must see to it that she impressed him
-better than did all the rest, and, later, when she returned to tell the
-old librarian of her adventures, she could perhaps draw her out and
-compare notes.
-
-She would not admit even to herself that she was disappointed with
-Haron Gorka. It was not that he was homely and unimpressive; it was
-just that he was so _ordinary_-looking. She almost would have preferred
-the monster of her dreams.
-
- * * * * *
-
-He wore a white linen suit and he had mousy hair, drab eyes, an
-almost-Roman nose, a petulant mouth with the slight arch of the egotist
-at each corner.
-
-He said, "Greetings. You have come--"
-
-"In response to your ad. How do you do, Mr. Gorka?"
-
-She hoped she wasn't being too formal. But, then, there was no sense in
-assuming that he would like informality. She could only wait and see
-and adjust her own actions to suit him. Meanwhile, it would be best to
-keep on the middle of the road.
-
-"I am fine. Are you ready?"
-
-"Ready?"
-
-"Certainly. You came in response to my ad. You want to hear me talk, do
-you not?"
-
-"I--do." Matilda had had visions of her prince charming sitting back
-and relaxing with her, telling her of the many things he had done and
-seen. But first she certainly would have liked to get to _know_ the
-man. Well, Haron Gorka obviously had more experience along these lines
-than she did. He waited, however, as if wondering what to say, and
-Matilda, accustomed to social chatter, gave him a gambit.
-
-"I must admit I was surprised when I got exactly what I wanted for
-dinner," she told him brightly.
-
-"Eh? What say? Oh, yes, naturally. A combination of telepathy and
-teleportation. The synthetic cookery is attuned to your mind when you
-press the buzzer, and the strength of your psychic impulses determines
-how closely the meal will adjust to your desires. The fact that the
-adjustment here was near perfect is commendable. It means either that
-you have a high psi-quotient, or that you were very hungry."
-
-"Yes," said Matilda vaguely. Perhaps it might be better, after all, if
-Haron Gorka were to talk to her as he saw fit.
-
-"Ready?"
-
-"Uh--ready."
-
-"Well?"
-
-"Well, what, Mr. Gorka?"
-
-"What would you like me to talk about?"
-
-"Oh, anything."
-
-"Please. As the ad read, my universal experience--is universal.
-Literally. You'll have to be more specific."
-
-"Well, why don't you tell me about some of your far travels?
-Unfortunately, while I've done a lot of reading, I haven't been to all
-the places I would have liked--"
-
-"Good enough. You know, of course, how frigid Deneb VII is?"
-
-Matilda said, "Beg pardon?"
-
-"Well, there was the time our crew--before I had retired, of
-course--made a crash landing there. We could survive in the vac-suits,
-of course, but the _thlomots_ were after us almost at once. They go
-mad over plastic. They will eat absolutely any sort of plastic. Our
-vac-suits--"
-
-"--were made of plastic," Matilda suggested. She did not understand a
-thing he was talking about, but she felt she had better act bright.
-
-"No, no. Must you interrupt? The air-hose and the water feed, these
-were plastic. Not the rest of the suit. The point is that half of us
-were destroyed before the rescue ship could come, and the remainder
-were near death. I owe my life to the mimicry of a _flaak_ from Capella
-III. It assumed the properties of plastic and led the _thlomots_ a
-merry chase across the frozen surface of D VII. You travel in the Deneb
-system now and Interstellar Ordinance makes it mandatory to carry
-_flaaks_ with you. Excellent idea, really excellent."
-
- * * * * *
-
-Almost at once, Matilda's educational background should have told her
-that Haron Gorka was mouthing gibberish. But on the other hand she
-_wanted_ to believe in him and the result was that it took until now
-for her to realize it.
-
-"Stop making fun of me," she said.
-
-"So, naturally, you'll see _flaaks_ all over that system--"
-
-"Stop!"
-
-"What's that? Making fun of you?" Haron Gorka's voice had been so
-eager as he spoke, high-pitched, almost like a child's, and now he
-seemed disappointed. He smiled, but it was a sad smile, a smile of
-resignation, and he said, "Very well. I'm wrong again. You are the
-sixth, and you're no better than the other five. Perhaps you are even
-more outspoken. When you see my wife, tell her to come back. Again she
-is right and I am wrong...."
-
-Haron Gorka turned his back.
-
-Matilda could do nothing but leave the room, walk back through the
-house, go outside and get into her car. She noticed not without
-surprise that the other five cars were now gone. She was the last of
-Haron Gorka's guests to depart.
-
-As she shifted into reverse and pulled out of the driveway, she saw
-the servant leaving, too. Far down the road, he was walking slowly.
-Then Haron Gorka had severed that relationship, too, and now he was all
-alone.
-
-As she drove back to town, the disappointment melted slowly away. There
-were, of course, two alternatives. Either Haron Gorka was an eccentric
-who enjoyed this sort of outlandish tomfoolery, or else he was plainly
-insane. She could still picture him ranting on aimlessly to no one in
-particular about places which had no existence outside of his mind, his
-voice high-pitched and eager.
-
- * * * * *
-
-It was not until she had passed the small library building that she
-remembered what she had promised the librarian. In her own way, the
-aging woman would be as disappointed as Matilda, but a promise was a
-promise, and Matilda turned the car in a wide U-turn and parked it
-outside the library.
-
-The woman sat at her desk as Matilda had remembered her, gray,
-broom-stick figure, rigid. But now when she saw Matilda she perked up
-visibly.
-
-"Hello, my dear," she said.
-
-"Hi."
-
-"You're back a bit sooner than I expected. But, then, the other five
-have returned, too, and I imagine your story will be similar."
-
-"I don't know what they told you," Matilda said. "But this is what
-happened to me."
-
-She quickly then related everything which had happened, completely and
-in detail. She did this first because it was a promise, and second
-because she knew it would make her feel better.
-
-"So," she finished, "Haron Gorka is either extremely eccentric or
-insane. I'm sorry."
-
-"He's neither," the librarian contradicted. "Perhaps he is slightly
-eccentric by your standards, but really, my dear, he is neither."
-
-"What do you mean?"
-
-"Did he leave a message for his wife?"
-
-"Why, yes. Yes, he did. But how did you know? Oh, I suppose he told the
-five."
-
-"No. He didn't. But you were the last and I thought he would give you a
-message for his wife--"
-
-Matilda didn't understand. She didn't understand at all, but she told
-the little librarian what the message was. "He wanted her to return,"
-she said.
-
-The librarian nodded, a happy smile on her lips. "You wouldn't believe
-me if I told you something."
-
-"What's that?"
-
-"I am Mrs. Gorka."
-
-The librarian stood up and came around the desk. She opened a drawer
-and took out her hat and perched it jauntily atop her gray hair. "You
-see, my dear, Haron expects too much. He expects entirely too much."
-
-Matilda did not say a word. One madman a day would be quite enough for
-anybody, but here she found herself confronted with two.
-
-"We've been tripping for centuries, visiting every habitable star
-system from our home near Canopus. But Haron is too demanding. He
-says I am a finicky traveler, that he could do much better alone, the
-accommodations have to be just right for me, and so forth. When he
-loses his temper, he tries to convince me that any number of females of
-the particular planet would be more than thrilled if they were given
-the opportunity just to listen to him.
-
-"But he's wrong. It's a hard life for a woman. Someday--five thousand,
-ten thousand years from now--I will convince him. And then we will
-settle down on Canopus XIV and cultivate _torgas_. That would be so
-nice--"
-
-"I'm sure."
-
-"Well, if Haron wants me back, then I have to go. Have a care, my dear.
-If you marry, choose a home-body. I've had the experience and you've
-seen my Haron for yourself."
-
-And then the woman was gone. Numbly, Matilda walked to the doorway and
-watched her angular figure disappear down the road. Of all the crazy
-things....
-
-Deneb and Capella and Canopus, these were stars. Add a number and you
-might have a planet revolving about each star. Of all the insane--
-
-They were mad, all right, and now Matilda wondered if, actually,
-they were husband and wife. It could readily be; maybe the madness
-was catching. Maybe if you thought too much about such things, such
-travels, you could get that way. Of course, Herman represented the
-other extreme, and Herman was even worse in his own way--but hereafter
-Matilda would seek the happy medium.
-
-And, above all else, she had had enough of her pen pal columns. They
-were, she realized, for kids.
-
- * * * * *
-
-She ate dinner in Cedar Falls and then she went out to her car again,
-preparing for the journey back home. The sun had set and it was a clear
-night, and overhead the great broad sweep of the Milky Way was a pale
-rainbow bridge in the sky.
-
-Matilda paused. Off in the distance there was a glow on the horizon,
-and that was the direction of Haron Gorka's place.
-
-The glow increased; soon it was a bright red pulse pounding on the
-horizon. It flickered. It flickered again, and finally it was gone.
-
-The stars were white and brilliant in the clear country air. That was
-why Matilda liked the country better than the city, particularly on a
-clear summer night when you could see the span of the Milky Way.
-
-But abruptly the stars and the Milky Way were paled by the brightest
-shooting star Matilda had ever seen. It flashed suddenly and it
-remained in view for a full second, searing a bright orange path across
-the night sky.
-
-Matilda gasped and ran into her car. She started the gears and pressed
-the accelerator to the floor, keeping it there all the way home.
-
-It was the first time she had ever seen a shooting star going _up_.
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Pen Pal, by Milton Lesser
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