“But, look here, I…”
“We’ll say no more about it, do you mind? Take off your shoe, dear. I want to measure for the foot.”
Baffled, he started to remove his shoe. Suddenly he stopped. “Mum, I wish you wouldn’t knit socks for me.”
“What, dear? But mother enjoys doing it for you.”
“Yes, but… Look, I don’t like hand-knit socks. They make creases on the soles of my feet… I’ve showed you often enough!”
“Don’t be silly! How could soft wool do your feet any harm? And think what you would have to pay for real wool, real handwork, if you bought it. Most boys would be grateful.”
“But I don’t like it, I tell you!”
She sighed. “Sometimes, dear, I don’t know what to do with you, I really don’t.” She rolled up her knitting and put it aside. “Go wash your hands…yes, and your face, too…and comb your hair. Mr. Perkins will be here any moment.”
“Say, about this Mr. Perkins…”
“Hurry, dear. Don’t make things difficult for mother.”
Mr. Perkins turned out to be pleasant; John Thomas liked him despite his suspicions. After a few polite inanities, with coffee served for ritual hospitality, he came to the point.
He represented the Exotic Life Laboratory of the Museum of Natural History. As a result of the news picture of Lummox in connection with the story of the trial the beast had come to the attention of the Museum…which now wanted to buy him.
“To my surprise,” he added, “in searching the files I discovered that on another occasion the Museum attempted to buy this specimen…from your grandfather, I believe. The name was the same as yours and the date fitted. Are you any relation to…”
“My great great great grandfather…sure,” John Thomas interrupted. “And it was probably my grandfather they tried to buy Lummox from. But he was not for sale then—and he’s not for sale now!”
His mother looked up from knitting and said, “Be reasonable, dear. You are in no position to take that attitude.”
John Thomas looked stubborn. Mr. Perkins went on with a warm smile, “I sympathize with your feelings, Mr. Stuart. But our legal department looked into the matter before I came out here and I am familiar with your present problems. Believe me, I’m not here to make them worse; we have a solution that will protect your pet and clear up your troubles.”
“I’m not going to sell Lummox,” John Thomas persisted.
“Why not? If it turns out to be the only solution?”
“Well…because I can’t. Even if I wanted to. He wasn’t left to me to sell, he was left to me to keep and take care of. He was in this family before I was…before my mother was, for that matter.” He looked sternly at his mother. “Mum, I don’t know what’s gotten into you.”
She answered quietly, “That will be enough of that, dear. Mother does what is best for you.”
Mr. Perkins changed the subject smoothly as John Thomas began to cloud up. “In any case, now that I’ve come all this way, may I see the creature? I’m terribly interested.”
“Uh, I suppose so.” Johnnie got up slowly and led the stranger outside.
Mr. Perkins looked up at Lummox, took a deep breath and let it out. “Marvelous!” He walked around him, admiring. “Absolutely marvelous! Unique…and the biggest e.-t. specimen I’ve ever seen. How in the world was he shipped?”
“Why, he’s grown some,” John Thomas admitted.
“I understand he parrots human speech a bit. Can you coax him to do it?”
“Huh? He doesn’t ‘parrot’…he talks.”
“Really?”
“Of course. Hey, Lummie, how are you, boy?”
“I’m all right,” Lummox piped. “What does he want?”
“Oh, nothing, nothing. He just wanted to see you.”
Mr. Perkins stared. “He talks! Mr. Stuart, the laboratory must have this specimen.”
“That’s out, I told you.”
“I’m prepared to go much higher, now that I’ve seen him…and heard him.”
John Thomas started to say something rude, checked himself and said instead, “Look, Mr. Perkins, are you married?”
“Why, yes. Why?”
“Any kids?”
“One, a little girl. She’s just five.” His face softened.
“I’ll make you a deal. We’ll swap even. No questions asked and each of us does as he likes with his ‘specimen.’”
Perkins started to flare up, then suddenly grinned. “Touché! I’ll shut up. But,” he went on, “you were taking a chance. One or two of my colleagues would have taken you up. You can’t understand what a temptation a specimen like this is to a man of science. Really.” He looked longingly at Lummox and added, “Shall we go in?”
Mrs. Stuart looked up as they came in; Mr. Perkins shook his head briefly. They sat down and Mr. Perkins fitted his finger tips together. “Mr. Stuart, you have forbidden me to discuss a possible sale, but if I tell the director of the Lab that I didn’t even put the proposition, I will look foolish. Would you let me state what the museum has in mind…just for the record?”
“Well…” John Thomas frowned. “I guess there’s no harm in that.”
“Thanks. I must do something to justify my travel expenses. Let me analyze the situation. That creature…your friend Lummox…or let’s say ‘our friend Lummox’ for I liked him as soon as I saw him. Our friend Lummox is under sentence of death, isn’t he? A court order.”
“Yes,” John Thomas admitted. “But it hasn’t been confirmed by the Space Department yet.”
“I know. But the police have already made attempts to kill him, without waiting for final approval. Right?”
John started to use bad language, then glanced at his mother and refrained. “The stupid idiots! Anyhow, they can’t kill Lummox; they’re too dumb.”
“I agree with your sentiments…privately. That buffoon chief of police ought to have his commission taken away. Why, he might have destroyed an absolutely unique specimen. Imagine!”
Mrs. Stuart said crisply, “Chief Dreiser is a fine gentleman.”
Mr. Perkins turned to her and said, “Mrs. Stuart, I did not mean to cast slurs on a friend of yours. But I stick by my guns; the Chief had no right to take things into his own hands. Such behavior is worse on the part of a public official than it is when done by a lay citizen.”
“He had public safety to think about,” she insisted.
“True. Perhaps that is an extenuating circumstance. I take back my remarks. They are off the subject and I did not intend to start an argument.”
“I’m glad to hear you did not, Mr. Perkins. Shall we get back to the subject?”
John Thomas felt himself warming a little to the scientist—Mum had slapped Perkins down just the way she did him—and, besides, he liked Lummox. Mr. Perkins continued, “Any time now, tomorrow, or even today, the Department of Spatial Affairs will approve the destruction of Lummox and…”
“Maybe they’ll turn it down.”
“Can you risk Lummox’s life on that unjustified hope? The Chief of Police will show up again—and this time he’ll kill Lummox.”
“No, he won’t! He doesn’t know how. We’ll laugh at him!”
Mr. Perkins shook his head slowly. “That’s not your head talking, that’s your heart. The Chief will make sure this time. He’s been made to look silly; he won’t let it happen again. If he can’t figure out a sure way himself, he’ll get expert advice. Mr. Stuart, any biologist could run a rough analysis on Lummox and tell almost offhand two or three certain ways to kill him…kill him quickly and safely. I’ve already thought of one, just from seeing him.”
John Thomas looked at him in alarm. “You won’t tell Chief Dreiser?”
“Of course not! I’d be strung up by the thumbs first But there are thousands of others who can advise him. Or he may hit on a method himself. Be sure of this: if you wait until that death sentence is approved, it will be too late. They’ll kill Lummox. And that would be a great
pity.”
John Thomas did not answer. Mr. Perkins added quietly, “You can’t oppose the forces of society singlehanded. If you are stubborn you yourself will make certain that Lummox will be killed.”
John Thomas pushed his fist hard against his mouth. Then he said almost inaudibly, “What can I do?”
“Much, if you let me help you. First, let me make this clear. If you entrust your pet to us, he will never be harmed in any way. You hear talk about vivisection and such…well, forget it. Our object is to put specimens into environments as much like their home planets as possible, then study them. We want them to be healthy and happy, and we go to a lot of trouble to accomplish those ends. Eventually Lummox will die a natural death…then we’ll mount the hide and skeleton, as a permanent exhibit.”
“How would you like to be stuffed and exhibited?” Johnnie asked bitterly.
“Eh?” Perkins looked surprised, then laughed. “It wouldn’t bother me at all; I’m leaving my carcass to the medical school of my alma mater. And it won’t bother Lummox. The point is to get him out of the clutches of the police…so that he can live to a ripe old age.”
“Wait a minute. If you buy him, that doesn’t get him off. They’ll still kill him. Won’t they?”
“Yes and no. Mostly no. Selling him to the Museum doesn’t cancel the order to destroy him, but, believe me, it will never be carried out. I’ve been coached by our legal department as to what to do. First, we agree on terms and you give me a bill of sale; that gives the Museum legal standing. At once, tonight, I get hold of your local judge and get a temporary order postponing the execution for a few days; it is definitely within his discretion to postpone it while this new factor of a change in ownership is considered. That’s all we need. We can get straight to the Secretary for Spatial Affairs if we need to…and I promise you that, once the Museum holds title, Lummox will never be destroyed.”
“You’re sure?”
“Sure enough to risk the Museum’s money. If I’m wrong, I might be out of a job.” Perkins grinned. “But I’m not wrong. Once I have the temporary order and have phoned the Museum to get busy on a permanent order my next step is to settle all the damage. I’ll carry cash, enough to do it…cash has a convincing effect. That done, we’ll have only the Chief of Safety against us…and, while he may seem an obstacle to you, he will never be able to stand up against the weight that the Museum can bring to bear, when needed. And everybody lives happily ever after!” Perkins smiled. “Anything wrong with it?”
John Thomas traced out a pattern on the rug with his toe, then looked up. “Look, Mr. Perkins, I know I have to do something to save Lummox. But up to now I haven’t seen any way…and I guess I haven’t had the courage to look the facts in the face.”
“Then you’ll do it?”
“Just a minute, please! This isn’t any good either. Lummie would be miserable with loneliness. He’d never get used to it. It would just be swapping death for life imprisonment. I’m not sure but what he’d rather be dead…than to be all alone, with a lot of strangers and them poking him and bothering him and making tests of him. But I can’t even ask him what he wants because I’m not sure Lummie understands about death. But he does understand about strangers.”
Mr. Perkins chewed his lip and reflected that it was very hard to do this young man a favor. “Mr. Stuart? If you were to go with Lummox, would it make a difference?”
“Huh? How?”
“I think I can promise you a job as an animal handler… In fact I have a vacancy in my own department; I could hire you tonight and we could sort the red tape later. After all, there is a real advantage in having an exotic animal cared for by someone who knows his ways.”
Before Johnnie could answer his mother said, “No!”
“Eh? What, Mrs. Stuart?”
“Out of the question. Mr. Perkins, I had hoped that you would provide a rational way out of this silly unpleasantness. But I cannot agree to that last suggestion. My son is to go to college. I will not have him waste his life sweeping out that beast’s cage…like a roustabout! No indeed!”
“Now look here, Mother…”
“John Thomas! If you please! The subject is closed.”
Mr. Perkins looked from the boy’s smoldering face to his mother’s set expression. “After all,” he said, “that is no business of the Museum. Let me put it this way, Mrs. Stuart. I’ll keep that job open for, oh, say six months…no, please, Mrs. Stuart! Whether or not your son takes it is your problem…and I am sure you don’t need my advice. I just want to assure your son that the Museum won’t keep him away from his pet. Is that fair?”
Her needles were clicking like machinery. “I suppose so,” she admitted.
“Mr. Stuart?”
“Wait a minute. Mother, you don’t think I’d…”
“Please, Mr. Stuart! The Museum of Natural History has no place in a family discussion. You know our offer. Will you accept?”
Mrs. Stuart interrupted. “I don’t believe you mentioned the price, Mr. Perkins.”
“Why, so I didn’t! Shall we say twenty thousand?”
“Net?”
“Net? Oh, no…subject to the claims we’ll have to settle, of course.”
“‘Net,’ Mr. Perkins,” she said firmly.
He shrugged. “Net.”
“We accept.”
“Good.”
“Hey, wait a minute!” protested John Thomas. “We don’t either. Not if this other thing isn’t settled. I’m not going to turn Lummox over to…”
“Quiet! Dear, I’ve been patient but we’ll have no more of this nonsense. Mr. Perkins, he accepts. Do you have the papers with you?”
“We don’t either accept!”
“Just a moment,” Mr. Perkins appealed. “Ma’am, am I correct in thinking that I must have your son’s signature for a valid bill of sale?”
“You’ll get it.”
“Hmm. Mr. Stuart?”
“I’m not going to sign unless it’s settled that Lummox and I stay together.”
“Mrs. Stuart?”
“This is ridiculous.”
“I think so, too. But there is nothing I can do.” Perkins stood up. “Good night, Mr. Stuart. Thanks for letting me speak my piece—and for letting me see Lummox. No, don’t get up; I can find the door.”
He started to leave, while the Stuarts were busy not looking at each other. He paused at the door. “Mr. Stuart?”
“Huh? Yes, Mr. Perkins?”
“Would you do me a favor? Get as many pictures of Lummox as possible? Color-stereo-motion-sound if you can. I would have a professional crew flown here but there may not be time. You know. It would be a shame indeed if there were not some scientific record left of him. So do what you can.” He turned away again.
John Thomas gulped and was up out of his chair. “Mr. Perkins! Hey! Come back.”
A few minutes later he found himself, signing a bill of sale. His signature was shaky but legible. “Now Mrs. Stuart,” Mr. Perkins said smoothly, “if you will sign underneath, where it says ‘Guardian’…thanks! Oh yes! I must scratch out that part about ‘subject to settlement of claim.’ I don’t have the cash with me; I got here after the banks had closed, so I’ll pass over a nominal sum to bind it and we’ll settle the rest before we move the specimen.”
“No,” said John Thomas.
“Eh?”
“I forgot to tell you. The Museum can settle the claims, since I can’t and after all Lummox did it. But I’m not going to take any money. I’d feel like Judas.”
His mother said sharply, “John Thomas! I won’t let you…”
“Better not say it, Mum,” he said dangerously. “You know what Dad would have thought.”
“Hrrumph!” Mr. Perkins cleared his throat loudly. “I’m going to fill in the usual legal fiction of a nominal sum. I won’t stay longer; Judge O’Farrell told me that he goes to bed at ten. Mrs. Stuart, I consider the Museum bound by my offer. Mr. Stuart, I’ll leave you to settle with your mother
in your own way. Good night all!” He shoved the bill of sale in his pocket and left quickly.
An hour later they were still facing each other wearily and angrily across the living room. John Thomas had let himself be bullied into conceding that his mother could take the money, as long as he was not required to touch it. He had given this in exchange, he thought, for permission to accept the job with Lummox.
But she shook her head. “Quite out of the question. After all, you are about to go to college. You couldn’t take that beast along. So you had no reason to expect to keep him with you anyhow.”
“Huh? But I thought you had meant to take care of him…the way you promised Dad…and I would have seen him on week ends.”
“Keep your father out of this! I might as well tell you right now that I made up my mind long ago that the day you went away to school this household would cease to be a zoo. This present mix-up has simply moved up the date a few days.”
He stared at her, unable to answer.
Presently she came over and put a hand on his shoulder. “Johnnie? Johnnie dear…”
“Huh?”
“Look at me, darling. We’ve had some bitter words and I’m sorry they were ever spoken… I’m sure you did not mean them. But Mum has only been thinking of your welfare, you know that? Don’t you?”
“Uh, I suppose so.”
“That’s all Mum ever thinks about…what’s best for her big boy. You’re young, and when a person is young, things seem important that aren’t. But as you grow older, you will find that Mum knew best. Don’t you see that?”
“Well… Mum, about that job. If I could only…”
“Please, dear. Mother has a splitting headache. We’ll say no more about it now. Get a good night’s sleep and tomorrow you’ll see things differently.” She patted his cheek, bent down and kissed him. “Good night, dear.”
“G’night.”
He sat there long after she had gone up, trying to figure things out. He knew that he should feel good…he’d saved Lummie; hadn’t he?
But he did not feel good; he felt like an animal that has chewed a leg off to escape a trap…shock and misery, not relief.
At last he got up and went outside to see Lummox.