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proverbsabout you. Fortunately, alcohol has little effect upon us.Now if you had tried catnip with just a
touch of honeyin it...Ah, here is the larva. How are you, little man- thing?"
The elf sat there, the goblet of eggnog halfway to hismandibles, while Jan, Junior, stood in the doorway.
Jan, Junior's, ten-year-old face was moderately smeared withdirt, his hair was immoderately matted and
there was alook of the utmost surprise in his gray eyes. His battered schoolbooks swayed from the end
of the strap he held in his hand.
He said, "Pop! What's the matter with Mom? And and what's that?"
The elf said to Prentiss, "Hurry to the library. No timemust be lost. You know the books I need." All
trace of
304 Isaac Asimov
incipient drunkenness had left the creature and Prentiss'morale broke. The creature had been playing
with him.
Prentiss got up to go.
The elf said, "And nothing human; nothing sneaky; notricks. Your wife is still a hostage. I can use the
larva'smind to kill her; it's good enough for that. I wouldn't want to do it. I'm a member of the Elfitarian
EthicalSociety and we advocate considerate treatment of mam-mals so you may rely on my noble
principlesif you doas I say."
Prentiss felt a strong compulsion to leave flooding him.He stumbled toward the door.
Jan, Junior, cried, "Pop, it can talk! He says he'll killMom! Hey, don't go away!"
Prentiss was already out of the room, when he heardthe elf say, "Don't stare at me, larva. I will not harm
your mother if you do exactly as I say. I am an elf, afairy. You know what a fairy is, of course."
And Prentiss was at the front door when he heardJan, Junior's, treble raised in wild shouting, followed
byscream after scream in Blanche's shuddering soprano.
The strong, though invisible, elastic that was drawing Prentiss out the house snapped and vanished. He
fellbackward, righted himself and darted back up the stairs.
Blanche, fairly saturated with quivering life, wasbacked into a corner, her arms about a weeping Jan,
Junior.
On the desk was a collapsed black carapace, coveringa nasty smear of pulpiness from which colorless
liquiddripped.
Jan, Junior, was sobbing hysterically, "I hit it. I hit itwith my schoolbooks. It was hurting Mom."
An hour passed and Prentiss felt the world of normal-ity pouring back into the interstices left behind by
thecreature from Avalon. The elf itself was already ash inthe incinerator behind the house and the only
remnantof its existence was the damp stain at the foot of hisdesk.
Blanche was still sickly pale. They talked in whispers.
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Prentiss said, "How's Jan, Junior?"
"He's watching television."
KID STUFF 305
"Is he all right?"
"Oh,he's all right, butI'll be having nightmares for weeks."
"I know. So will I unless we can get it out of ourminds. I don't think there'll ever be another of those
things here."
Blanche said, "I can't explain how awful it was. I kepthearing every word he said, even when I was
down inthe living room."
"It was telepathy, you see."
"I just couldn't move. Then, after you left, I couldbegin to stir a bit. I tried to scream but all I could do
was moan and whimper. Then Jan, Junior, smashed himand all at once I was free. I don't understand
how ithappened."
Prentiss felt a certain gloomy satisfaction. "I think Iknow. I was under his control because I accepted the
truth of his existence. He held you in check through me. When I left the room, increasing distance made it
harderto use my mind as a psychic lens and you could beginmoving. By the time I reached the front door,
the elfthought it was time to switch from my mind to Jan, Junior's. That was his mistake."
"In what way?" asked Blanche.
"He assumed that all children believe in fairies, but he was wrong. Here in America today childrendon't
believe in fairies. They never hear of them. They believe in Tom Corbett, in Hopalong Cassidy, in Dick
Tracy, in HowdyDoody, in Superman and a dozen other things, but notin fairies.
"The elf just never realized the sudden culturalchanges brought about by comic books and television,and
when he tried to grab Jan, Junior's, mind, hecouldn't. Before he could recover his psychic balance,Jan,
Junior, was on top of him in a swinging panicbecause he thought you were being hurt and it was allover. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]