whisky—”
“Mmm—Every case of liquor is leaking. The two I’ve opened each has one fifth, unbroken.”
“Daddy, you’ve ruined breakfast.”
“The question is, do I ration it evenly? Or save it all for Grace?”
“Oh.” Karen’s features screwed up in painful decision. “She can have my share. But the others shouldn’t be deprived just because Gracie has a yen.”
“Karen, at this stage it’s not a yen. In a way, for her it’s medicine.”
“Yeah, sure. And diamond bracelets and sable coats are medicine for me.”
“Baby, there’s no point in blaming her. It may be my fault. Duke thinks so. When you are my age, you will learn to take people as they are.”
“Hush mah mouf. Maybe I’m harsh—but I get tired of bringing friends home and having Mom pass out about dinnertime. Or try to kiss my boy friends in the kitchen.”
“She does that?”
“Haven’t you seen? No, you probably haven’t. Sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too. But only on your account. It’s a peccadillo, at most. As I was saying, when you get to be my age—”
“Daddy, I don’t expect to get to be your age—and we both know it. If we’ve got even two fifths of liquor, it’s probably enough. Why don’t you just serve it to whoever needs it?”
The lines in his face got deeper. “Karen, I haven’t given up. It’s distinctly cooler. We may get out of this yet.”
“Well—I guess that’s the proper attitude. Speaking of medicine, didn’t you squirrel away some Antabuse when we built this monster?”
“Karen, Antabuse doesn’t stop the craving; it simply makes the patient deathly ill if he drinks. If your estimate of our chances is correct, can you see any reason why I should force Grace to spend her last hours miserably? I’m not her judge, I’m her husband.”
Karen sighed. “Daddy, you have an annoying habit of being right. All right, she can have mine.”
“I was merely asking your opinion. You’ve helped. I’ve decided.”
“Decided how?”
“None of your business, half pint. Get breakfast.”
“I’m going to put kerosene in yours. Give me a kiss, Daddy.”
He did. “Now pipe down and get to work.”
Five of them gathered for breakfast, sitting on the floor as chairs would not stand up. Mrs. Farnham was still lethargic from heavy sedation. The others shared canned meat, crackers, cold Nescafé, canned peaches, and warm comradeship. They were dressed, the men in shorts, Karen in shorts and halter, and Barbara in a muumuu belonging to Karen. Her underwear had been salvaged but was soaked and the air was too moist to dry it.
Hugh announced, “Time for a conference. Suggestions are welcome.” He looked at his son.
“One item, Dad—Hugh,” Duke answered. “The backhouse took a beating. I patched it and rigged a platform out of boards that had secured the air bottles. Just one thing—” He turned to his sister. “You setter types be careful. It’s shaky.”
“ You be careful. You were the one hard to housebreak. Ask Daddy.”
“Stow it, Karen. Good job, Duke. But with six of us I think we should rig a second one. Can we manage that, Joe?”
“Yes, we could. But…”
“But what?”
“Do you know how much oxy is left?”
“I do. We must shift to blower and filter soon. And there is not a working radiation counter left. So we won’t know what we’ll be letting in. However, we’ve got to breathe.”
“But did you look at the blower?”
“It looked all right.”
“It’s not. I don’t think I can repair it.”
Mr. Farnham sighed. “I’ve had a spare on order for six months. Well, I’ll look at it, too. And you, Duke; maybe one of us can fix it.”
“Okay.”
“Let’s assume we can’t repair it. Then we use the oxygen as sparingly as possible. After that we can get along, for a while, on the air inside. But there will come a time when we have to open the door.”
Nobody said anything. “Smile, somebody!” Hugh went on. “We aren’t licked. We’ll rig
“Mmm—Every case of liquor is leaking. The two I’ve opened each has one fifth, unbroken.”
“Daddy, you’ve ruined breakfast.”
“The question is, do I ration it evenly? Or save it all for Grace?”
“Oh.” Karen’s features screwed up in painful decision. “She can have my share. But the others shouldn’t be deprived just because Gracie has a yen.”
“Karen, at this stage it’s not a yen. In a way, for her it’s medicine.”
“Yeah, sure. And diamond bracelets and sable coats are medicine for me.”
“Baby, there’s no point in blaming her. It may be my fault. Duke thinks so. When you are my age, you will learn to take people as they are.”
“Hush mah mouf. Maybe I’m harsh—but I get tired of bringing friends home and having Mom pass out about dinnertime. Or try to kiss my boy friends in the kitchen.”
“She does that?”
“Haven’t you seen? No, you probably haven’t. Sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too. But only on your account. It’s a peccadillo, at most. As I was saying, when you get to be my age—”
“Daddy, I don’t expect to get to be your age—and we both know it. If we’ve got even two fifths of liquor, it’s probably enough. Why don’t you just serve it to whoever needs it?”
The lines in his face got deeper. “Karen, I haven’t given up. It’s distinctly cooler. We may get out of this yet.”
“Well—I guess that’s the proper attitude. Speaking of medicine, didn’t you squirrel away some Antabuse when we built this monster?”
“Karen, Antabuse doesn’t stop the craving; it simply makes the patient deathly ill if he drinks. If your estimate of our chances is correct, can you see any reason why I should force Grace to spend her last hours miserably? I’m not her judge, I’m her husband.”
Karen sighed. “Daddy, you have an annoying habit of being right. All right, she can have mine.”
“I was merely asking your opinion. You’ve helped. I’ve decided.”
“Decided how?”
“None of your business, half pint. Get breakfast.”
“I’m going to put kerosene in yours. Give me a kiss, Daddy.”
He did. “Now pipe down and get to work.”
Five of them gathered for breakfast, sitting on the floor as chairs would not stand up. Mrs. Farnham was still lethargic from heavy sedation. The others shared canned meat, crackers, cold Nescafé, canned peaches, and warm comradeship. They were dressed, the men in shorts, Karen in shorts and halter, and Barbara in a muumuu belonging to Karen. Her underwear had been salvaged but was soaked and the air was too moist to dry it.
Hugh announced, “Time for a conference. Suggestions are welcome.” He looked at his son.
“One item, Dad—Hugh,” Duke answered. “The backhouse took a beating. I patched it and rigged a platform out of boards that had secured the air bottles. Just one thing—” He turned to his sister. “You setter types be careful. It’s shaky.”
“ You be careful. You were the one hard to housebreak. Ask Daddy.”
“Stow it, Karen. Good job, Duke. But with six of us I think we should rig a second one. Can we manage that, Joe?”
“Yes, we could. But…”
“But what?”
“Do you know how much oxy is left?”
“I do. We must shift to blower and filter soon. And there is not a working radiation counter left. So we won’t know what we’ll be letting in. However, we’ve got to breathe.”
“But did you look at the blower?”
“It looked all right.”
“It’s not. I don’t think I can repair it.”
Mr. Farnham sighed. “I’ve had a spare on order for six months. Well, I’ll look at it, too. And you, Duke; maybe one of us can fix it.”
“Okay.”
“Let’s assume we can’t repair it. Then we use the oxygen as sparingly as possible. After that we can get along, for a while, on the air inside. But there will come a time when we have to open the door.”
Nobody said anything. “Smile, somebody!” Hugh went on. “We aren’t licked. We’ll rig
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