ask how Pascal was getting along.
"Just fine," Corinne told him on Thursday afternoon. "But he certainlyruined some of the tomato plants in the garden. He just doesn't seem tohoe in a straight line. Are you certain it's the green button I push?"
"It's probably one of the pressure regulators," interrupted Ronald."I'll check it when I get home." Corinne suspected by his lowered voicethat Mr. Hardwick had walked into the lab.
That night Pascal successfully washed and dried the dishes, crackingonly one cup in the process. Corinne spent the rest of the eveningsitting in the far corner of the living room, thumbing the pages of amagazine.
On the following afternoon--prompted perhaps by that perverse femaletrait which demands completion of all projects once started--Corinnelingered for several minutes in the vegetable department at the grocery.She finally picked out a fresh, round and blushing pumpkin.
Later in her kitchen, humming a little tune under her breath, Corinnedeftly maneuvered a paring knife to transform the pumpkin into a veryreasonable facsimile of a man's head. She placed the pumpkin over thetiny shaft between Pascal's box-shaped shoulders and stepped back.
She smiled at the moon-faced idiot grinning back at her. He wascomplete, and not bad-looking! But just before she touched the redbutton once and the blue button twice--which sent Pascal stumbling outto the backyard to finish weeding the circle of pansies beforedinner--she wondered about the gash that was his mouth. She distinctlyremembered carving it so that the ends curved upward into a frozen andquite harmless smile. But one end of the toothless grin seemed to sag alittle, like the cynical smile of one who knows his powers have beenunderestimated.
Corinne would not have had to worry about her husband's reaction to thenew vegetable-topped Pascal. Ronald accepted the transformationgood-naturedly, thinking that a little levity, once in a while, was agood thing.
"And after all," said Corinne later that evening, "I'm the one who hasto spend all day in the house with ..." She lowered her voice: "WithPascal."
But Ronald wasn't listening. He retired to his den to finish the plansfor the mass production of competent mechanical men. One for every homein America.... He fell asleep with the thought.
* * * * *
Corinne and Pascal spent the next two weeks going through pretty muchthe same routine. He, methodically jolting through the household chores;she, walking aimlessly from room to room, smoking too many cigarettes.She began to think of Pascal as a boarder. Strange--at first he had beenresponsible for that unwanted feeling. But now his helpfulness aroundthe house had lightened her burden. And he was so cheerful all the time!After living with Ronald's preoccupied frown for seven years ...
After luncheon one day, when Pascal neglected to shut off the gardenhose, she caught herself scolding him as if he were human. Was that ashadow from the curtain waving in the breeze, or did she see a hurt lookflit across the mouth of the pumpkin? Corinne put out her hand andpatted Pascal's cylindrical wrist.
It was warm--_flesh_ warm.
She hurried upstairs and stood breathing heavily with her back to thedoor. A little later she thought she heard someone--someone with a heavystep--moving around downstairs.
"I left the control box down there," she thought. "Of course, it'sabsurd...."
At four o'clock she went slowly down the stairs to start Ronald'sdinner. Pascal was standing by the refrigerator, exactly where she hadleft him. Not until she had started to peel the potatoes did she noticethe little bouquet of pansies in the center of the table.
Corinne felt she needed a strong cup of tea. She put the water on andplaced a cup on the kitchen table. Not until she was going to sit downdid she decide that perhaps Pascal should be in the other room.
She pressed the red button, the one which should turn him around, andthe blue button, which should make him walk into the living room. Sheheard the little buzz of mechanical life as Pascal began to move. But hedid not go into the other room! He was holding a chair for her, and shesat down rather heavily. A sudden rush of pleasure reddened her cheeks._Not since sorority days ..._
Before Pascal's arms moved away she touched his wrist again, softly,only this time her hand lingered. And his wrist _was_ warm!
* * * * *
"When do they want Pascal back at the lab?" she asked Ronald at dinnerthat evening, trying to keep her voice casual.
Ronald smiled. "I think I might have him indefinitely, dear. I've gotHardwick convinced I'm working on something revolutionary." He stopped."Oh, Corinne! You've spilled coffee all over yourself."
The following night Ronald was late in getting home from work. It wasraining outside the Newark station and the cabs deliberately evaded him.He finally caught a bus, which deposited him one block from his house.He cut through the back alley, hurrying through the rain. Just before hestarted up the stairs he glanced through the lighted kitchen window. Hestopped, gripping the railing for support.
In the living room were Pascal and Corinne. Pascal was recliningleisurely in the fireside chair; Corinne was standing in front of him.It was the expression on her face which stopped Ronald Lovegear. Thelook was a compound of restraint and compulsion, the reflection of somedeep struggle in Corinne's soul. Then she suddenly leaned forward andpressed her lips to Pascal's full, fleshy pumpkin mouth. Slowly, one ofPascal's aluminum arms moved up and encircled her waist.
Mr. Lovegear stepped back into the rain. He stood there for severalminutes. The rain curled around the brim of his hat, dropped to hisface, and rolled down his cheeks with the slow agitation of tears.
When, finally, he walked around to the front and stamped heavily up thestairs, Corinne greeted him with a flush in her cheeks. Ronald told herthat he didn't feel "quite up to dinner. Just coffee, please." When itwas ready he sipped slowly, watching Corinne's figure as she movedaround the room. She avoided looking at the aluminum figure in thechair.
Ronald put his coffee down, walked over to Pascal, and, gripping himbehind the shoulders, dragged him into the den.
Corinne stood looking at the closed door and listened to the furiouspounding.
* * * * *
Ten minutes later Ronald came out and went straight to the phone.
"Yes! Immediately!" he told the man at the freight office. While he satthere waiting Corinne walked upstairs.
Ronald did not offer to help the freight men drag the box outside. Whenthey had gone he went into the den and came back with the pumpkin. Heopened the back door and hurled it out into the rain. It cleared theback fence and rolled down the alley stopping in a small puddle in thecinders.
After a while the water level reached the mouth and there was a softchoking sound. The boy who found it the next morning looked at the mouthand wondered why anyone would carve such a sad Jack-O'-Lantern.
THE END
Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from _If Worlds of Science Fiction_ July 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.
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