Read Online Martian Time-Slip by Philip K. Dick - Free Book Online Page B

herself up and said, “Say, isn't he the man who lives next door to you?”
    “Shh,” Silvia said, intently listening to the announcer. But there was no more, only the brief mention: Norbert Steiner, a dealer in health foods, had committed suicide on a down-town New Israel street by throwing himself in the path of a bus. It was the same Steiner, all right; it was their neighbor, she knew it at once.
    “How dreadful,” June said, sitting up and fastening the straps of her polka-dot cotton halter. “I only saw him a couple of times, but—”
    “He was a dreadful little man,” Silvia said. “I'm not surprised he did it.” And yet she felt horrified. She could not believe it. She got to her feet, saying, “With four children—he left her to take care of four children! Isn't that dreadful? What's going to happen to them? They're so helpless anyhow.”
    “I heard,” June said, “ that he deals on the black market. Had you heard that? Maybe they were closing in on him.”
    Silvia said, “I better go right home and see if there's anything I can do for Mrs. Steiner. Maybe I can take the children for a while.” Could it have been my fault? she asked herself. Could he have done it because I refused them that water, this morning? It could be, because he was there; he had not gone to work yet.
    So maybe it is our fault, she thought. The way we treated them—which of us has ever been really nice to them and accepted them? But they are such dreadful whining people, always asking for help, begging and borrowing… who could respect them?
    Going into the house she changed, in the bedroom, to her slacks and T-shirt. June Henessy followed along with her.
    “Yes,” June said, “you're right—we all have to pitch in and help where we can. I wonder if she'll stay on or if she'll go back to Earth. I'd go back—I'm practically ready to go back anyhow, it's so dull here.”
    Getting her purse and cigarettes, Silvia said goodbye to June and set out on the walk back down the ditch to her own home. Breathless, she arrived in time to see the police 'copter disappearing into the sky. That was them notifying her, she decided. In the backyard she found David with the four Steiner girls; they were busy playing.
    “Did they take Mrs. Steiner with them?” she called to David.
    The boy scrambled at once to his feet and came up to her excitedly. “Mom, she went along with him. I'm taking care of the girls.”
    That's what I was afraid of, Silvia thought. The four girls still sat at the dam, playing a slow-motion, apathetic game with the mud and water, none of them looking up or greeting her; they seemed inert, no doubt from the shock of learning about their father's death. Only the smallest one showed any signs of reviving, and she probably had not comprehended the news in the first place. Already, Silvia thought, that little man's death has reached out and touched others, and the coldness is spreading. She felt the chill in her own heart. And I did not even like him, she thought.
    The sight of the four Steiner girls made her quake. Am I going to have to take on these pudding-y, plump, vapid, lowclass children? she asked herself. The answering thought thrust its way up, tossing every other consideration aside:
I don't want to!
She felt panic, because it was obvious that she had no choice; even now they were playing on her land, in her garden—she had them already.
    Hopefully, the smallest girl asked, “Miz Bohlen, could we have some more water for our dam?”
    Water, always wanting water, Silvia thought. Always leeching on us, as if it was a trait born into them. She ignored the child and said instead to her son, “Come into the house—I want to talk to you.”
    Together, they went indoors, where the girls could not overhear.
    “David,” she said, “their father is dead, it came over the radio. That's why the police came and took her. We'll have to help out for a while.” She tried to smile, but it was impossible. “However