Read The Servant Problem Page 3

you'llgive me a list of the places you want evaluated, I'll get started rightaway."

  "I'll take you around again personally--after we have breakfast."

  Again he was consigned to the living room while she performed thenecessary culinary operations, and again she served him by tray. Clearlyshe did not want him in the kitchen, or anywhere near it. He was notmuch of a one for mysteries, but this one was intriguing him more andmore by the minute.

  Breakfast over, she told him to wait on the front porch while she didthe dishes, and instructed Zarathustra to keep him company. She had twovoices: the one she used in addressing Zarathustra contained overtonesof summer, and the one she used in addressing Philip containedovertones of fall. "Some day," Philip told the little dog, "that chipshe carries on her shoulder is going to fall off of its own accord, andby then it will be too late--the way it was too late for me when I foundout that the person I'd been running away from all my life was myself inwolf's clothing."

  "Ruf," said Zarathustra, looking up at him with benign golden eyes."Ruf-ruf!"

  * * * * *

  Presently Judith re-appeared, sans apron, and the three of them setforth into the golden October day. It was Philip's first experience inevaluating an entire village, but he had a knack for estimating theworth of property, and by the time noon came around, he had the job halfdone. "If you people had made even half an effort to keep your placesup," he told Judith over cold-cut sandwiches and coffee in her livingroom, "we could have asked for a third again as much. Why in the worlddid you let everything go to pot just because you were moving some placeelse?"

  She shrugged. "It's hard to get anyone to do housework these days--notto mention gardening. Besides, in addition to the servant problem,there's another consideration--human nature. When you've lived in ashack all your life and you suddenly acquire a palace, you cease caringvery much what the shack looks like."

  "Shack!" Philip was indignant. "Why, this house is lovely! Practicallyevery house you've shown me is lovely. Old, yes--but oldness is anessential part of the loveliness of houses. If Pfleugersville is on theorder of most housing developments I've seen, you and your neighbors aregoing to be good and sorry one of these fine days!"

  "But Pfleugersville isn't on the order of most housing developmentsyou've seen. In fact, it's not a housing development at all. But let'snot go into that. Anyway, we're concerned with Valleyview, notPfleugersville."

  "Very well," Philip said. "This afternoon should wind things up so faras the appraising goes."

  * * * * *

  That evening, after a coffee-less supper--both the gas and the water hadbeen turned off that afternoon--he totaled up his figures. They madequite a respectable sum. He looked across the coffee table, which he hadcommandeered as a desk, to where Judith, with the dubious help ofZarathustra, was sorting out a pile of manila envelopes which she hadplaced in the middle of the living-room floor. "I'll do my best to selleverything," he said, "but it's going to be difficult going till we geta few families living here. People are reluctant about moving into emptyneighborhoods, and businessmen aren't keen about opening up businessplaces before the customers are available. But I think it'll work outall right. There's a plaza not far from here that will provide a placeto shop until the local markets are functioning, and Valleyview is partof a centralized school district." He slipped the paper he had beenfiguring on into his brief case, closed the case and stood up. "I'llkeep in touch with you."

  Judith shook her head. "You'll do nothing of the sort. As soon as youleave, I'm moving to Pfleugersville. My business here is finished."

  "I'll keep in touch with you there then. All you have to do is give meyour address and phone number."

  She shook her head again. "I could give you both, but neither would doyou any good. But that's beside the point. Valleyview is yourresponsibility now--not mine."

  Philip sat back down again. "You can start explaining any time," hesaid.

  "It's very simple. The property owners of Valleyview signed all of theirhouses and places of business over to me. I, in turn, have signed all ofthem over to you--with the qualification, of course, that after sellingthem you will be entitled to no more than your usual commission." Shewithdrew a paper from one of the manila envelopes. "After selling them,"she went on, "you are to divide the proceeds equally among the fourcharities specified in this contract." She handed him the paper. "Do youunderstand now why I tried so hard to find a trustworthy agent?"

  Philip was staring at the paper, unable, in his astonishment, to readthe words it contained. "Suppose," he said presently, "thatcircumstances should make it impossible for me to carry out my end ofthe agreement?"

  "In case of illness, you will already have taken the necessary steps totransfer the property to another agent who, in your opinion, is ascompletely honest as you are, and in case of death, you will alreadyhave taken the necessary steps to bequeath the property to the sameagent; and he, in both cases, will already have agreed to the terms laiddown in the contract you're holding in your hands. Why don't you readit?"

  * * * * *

  Now that his astonishment had abated somewhat, Philip found that hecould do so. "But this still doesn't make sense," he said a short whilelater. "Obviously you and the rest of the owners have purchased newhouses. Would it be presumptuous of me to ask how you're going to payfor them when you're virtually giving your old houses away?"

  "I'm afraid it would be, Mr. Myles." She withdrew another paper from theenvelope and handed it to him. "This is the other copy. If you'll kindlyaffix your signature to both, we can bring our business to a close. Asyou'll notice, I've already signed."

  "But if you're going to be incommunicado," Philip pointed out, angerbuilding up in him despite all he could do to stop it, "what good willyour copy do you?"

  Judith's countenance took on a glacial quality. So did her voice. "Mycopy will go into the hands of a trusted attorney, sealed in an envelopewhich I have already instructed him not to open till five years fromthis date. If, at the time it is opened, you have violated the terms ofour agreement, he will institute legal proceedings at once. Fortunately,although the Valleyview post office is closed, a mail truck passesthrough every weekday evening at eight. It's not that I don't trust you,Mr. Myles--but you are a man, you know."

  Philip was tempted to tear up the two copies then and there, and tossthe pieces into the air. But he didn't, for the very good reason that hecouldn't afford to. Instead, he bore down viciously on his pen andbrought his name to life twice in large and angry letters. He handedJudith one copy, slipped the other into his breast pocket and got to hisfeet. "That," he said, "brings our official business to a close. Now I'dlike to add an unofficial word of advice. It seems to me that you'reexacting an exorbitant price from the world for your husband's havingsold you out for a brunette and a redhead and a pint of Scotch. I'vebeen sold out lots of times for less than that, but I found out long agothat the world doesn't pay its bills even when you ask a fair price forthe damages done to you. I suggest that you write the matter off as abad debt and forget about it; then maybe you'll become a human beingagain."

  She had risen to her feet and was standing stiffly before him. She puthim in mind of an exquisite and fragile statue, and for a moment he hadthe feeling that if he were to reach out and touch her, she wouldshatter into a million pieces. She did not move for some time, nor didhe; then she bent down, picked up three of the manila envelopes,straightened, and handed them to him. "Two of these contain the deeds,maps and other records you will need," she said in a dead voice. "Thethird contains the keys to the houses and business places. Each key istagged with the correct address. Good-by, Mr. Myles."

  "Good-by," Philip said.

  He looked around the room intending to say good-by to Zarathustra, butZarathustra was nowhere to be seen. Finally he went into the hall,opened the front door and stepped out into the night. A full moon wasrising in the east. He walked down the moonlit walk
, climbed into hiscar and threw his brief case and the manila envelopes into the backseat. Soon, Valleyview was far behind him.

  But not as far as it should have been. He couldn't get the green roseout of his mind. He couldn't get Judith Darrow out of his mind either.Nor could he exorcise the summer breeze that kept wafting through thecrevices in his common sense.

  A green rose and a grass widow and a breeze with a green breath. A wholetown taking off for greener pastures....

  He