Roadside Picnic

Noonan was about to give the standard reply: “Well, I'm just waiting for Monkey to grow up.” But he stopped himself. It just wouldn't have come off any more.

"I need a secretary, not a wife,” he bumbled. “Why don't you leave your red devil and come be my secretary. You used to be an excellent one. Old Harris still reminisces about you."

"I'll bet. My hand was always black and blue from beating him off."

"Oh, so it was like that?” Noonan tried to look surprised. “That Harris!"

"God!” Guta said. “I could never get past him. My only worry was that Red would find out."

Monkey walked in silently, hovering near the door. She looked at the pots, at Richard, then came up to her mother and leaned against her, averting her face.

"Well, Monkey,” Richard Noonan said heartily. “Like some chocolate?"

He took a chocolate bar out of his vest pocket and extended the plastic-wrapped package to the girl. She did not stir. Guta took the chocolate from him and put it on the table. Her lips were white. “Well, Guta, you know I've decided to move.” He spoke on in a hearty tone. “I'm tired of hotel living. And it's too far from the institute."

"She understands less and less—almost nothing any more,” Guta said softly. He stopped talking, picked up the glass with both hands, and absently twirled it.

"You're not asking how we're doing,” she continued. “And you're right. Except that you're an old friend, Dick, and we have no secrets from you. And there's no way to keep it a secret anyway."

"Have you seen a doctor?” he asked without looking up.

"Yes. They can't do a thing. And one of them said … ” She stopped talking.

He was silent too. There was nothing to say about it and he didn't want to think about it either. Suddenly he had a horrible thought: it was an invasion. Not a roadside picnic, not a prelude to contact. It was an invasion. They can't change us, so they get into the bodies of our children and change them in their own image. He felt a chill, but then he remembered that he had read something like that in a paperback with a lurid cover, and he felt better. You can imagine anything at all. And real life is never what you imagine.

"And one of them said that she's no longer human."

"Nonsense,” Noonan said hollowly. “You should go to a real specialist. Go see James Cutterfield. Do you want me to talk to him? I'll arrange an appointment."

"You mean the Butcher?” She laughed nervously. “Don't bother. Thanks, Dick, but he's the one who said so. I guess it's fate."

When Noonan dared to look up again, Monkey was gone and Guta was sitting motionless, her mouth half-open, her eyes empty, and a long gray ash on her cigarette. He pushed his glass over to her.

"Make me another, please, and one for yourself. We'll have a drink."

The ash fell and she looked around for a place for the butt. She threw it into the garbage can.

"Why? That's what I can't understand! We're not the worst people in the city."

Noonan thought that she was going to cry, but she didn't. She opened the refrigerator, got the vodka and juice, and took another glass down from the cabinet.

"Don't give up hope. There's nothing in the world that can't be fixed. And believe me, Guta, I have very important connections. I'll do everything that I can."

He believed what he was saying and he was mentally going over the list of his connections in various cities, and it seemed to him that he had heard about similar cases, and that they had seemed to have ended happily. He just had to remember where it was and who the physician was. But then he remembered Mr. Lemchen, and he remembered why he had befriended Guta, and then he didn't want to think about anything at all. He scattered all his thoughts of connections, got comfortable in his chair, relaxed, and waited for his drink.

There were shuffling steps and a thumping in the hall and he could hear the more-than-ever repulsive voice of Buzzard Burbridge.

"Hey, Red! Looks like your Guta is entertaining someone. I see a hat. If I were you, I wouldn't leave them alone."

Red's voice: “Watch your false leg, Buzzard. Shut your mouth. There's the door, don't forget to leave. It's time for my dinner."

"Damn it, can't even make a little joke."

"We've had all the jokes we'll ever have. Period. Now get going!"

The lock clicked and the voices were quieter. Obviously they had gone out on the landing. Burbridge said something in an undertone, and Redrick replied: “That's all, we've had our talk!” More grumbling from Burbridge and Redrick's harsh: “I said that's it!” The door slammed, there were loud fast steps in the hall, and Redrick Schuhart appeared in the kitchen doorway. Noonan rose to greet him, and they warmly shook hands.

"I was sure it was you,” Redrick said, looking Noonan over with his quick greenish eyes. “Putting on weight, fatso! Keep putting it away, eh? I see you're passing the time of day pleasantly enough. Guta, old love, make one for me, too. I've got to catch up."

"We haven't even started yet. How can anyone get ahead of you?"