Read Online Time Waits for Winthrop by William Tenn - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: William Tenn
Ads: Link
ways. You see, they can adjust their flavor to the dietary wishes of the person consuming them. That way, you get—”
“
Please!
It makes me absolutely and completely sick even to think of it.”
“All right.” He finished eating, nodded at the wall, which withdrew the arm and sucked the tray back into itself. “I give up. All I wanted was to have you sample the stuff before you left.”
“Leaving—that’s what I came to see you about. We’re having trouble.”
“I was hoping you’d come to see me for myself alone,” he said with a disconsolate droop of his head.
She couldn’t tell whether he was being funny or serious, so she got angry as the easiest way of handling the situation. “See here, Gygyo Rablin, you are the very last man on Earth—past, present or future—that I ever want to see again. And you know why! Any man who—who says things to a girl like you s-said to m-me, and at s-such a t-time…”
Against her will, and to her extreme annoyance, her voice broke. Tears tickled their way down her face. She set her lips determinedly and tried to shake them away.
G ygyo looked really uncomfortable now. He sat down on a corner of the desk, which twitched under him more erratically than ever.
“I am sorry, Mary Ann. Truly, terribly, sincerely sorry. I should never have made love to you in the first place. Even without our substantial temporal and cultural differences, I’m certain you know as well as I do that we have precious little in common. But I found you—well, exciting like no woman in my own time, or any woman that I’ve ever encountered in a visit to the future. Bizarre—earthy—violently female. I just couldn’t resist the attraction. The one thing I didn’t anticipate was the depressing effect your peculiar cosmetics would have upon me. The actual tactile sensations were extremely upsetting.”
“That’s not what you said. And the
way
you said it! You rubbed your finger on my face and lips, and you went: ‘
Grea-sy! Grea-sy!
’” Thoroughly in control of herself now, she mimicked him viciously.
Gygyo shrugged. “I said I’m sorry and I meant it. But if you only knew how that stuff feels to a highly educated tactile sense! That smeary red lipstick—that tinted grit on your cheeks! There’s no excuse for me, that I’ll grant, but I’m just trying to make you understand why I erupted so stupidly.”
“I suppose you think I’d be a lot nicer if I shaved my head like some of these women—like that horrible Flureet!”
He smiled and shook his head. “You couldn’t be like them and they couldn’t be like you. There are entirely different concepts of womanhood and beauty involved. In your period, the greatest emphasis is on a kind of physical similarity, whereas we place the accent on difference, but most particularly on
emotional
difference. The more emotions a woman can exhibit and the more complex they are, the more striking is she considered. That’s the point of the shaved heads: to show suddenly appearing subtle wrinkles that might be missed if the area were covered with hair. We call Woman’s bald head her Frowning Glory.”
M ary Ann’s shoulders slumped and she stared down at the floor, which started to raise a section of itself questioningly, but sank down again as it realized that nothing was required of it. “I don’t understand, and I guess I won’t ever understand. All I know is that I just can’t stay in the same world with you, Gygyo Rablin—the very thought of it makes me feel kind of all wrong and sick inside.”
“I do understand,” he said seriously. “And for whatever comfort it may be—you have the same effect on me. I’d never have done anything as supremely idiotic as going on a locked microhunt in an impure culture before I met you. But those exciting stories of your adventuresome friend Edgar Rapp finally crept under my skin. I found I had to prove myself a man in your terms, Mary Ann—in
your
terms!”
“Edgar Rapp?” She
“
Please!
It makes me absolutely and completely sick even to think of it.”
“All right.” He finished eating, nodded at the wall, which withdrew the arm and sucked the tray back into itself. “I give up. All I wanted was to have you sample the stuff before you left.”
“Leaving—that’s what I came to see you about. We’re having trouble.”
“I was hoping you’d come to see me for myself alone,” he said with a disconsolate droop of his head.
She couldn’t tell whether he was being funny or serious, so she got angry as the easiest way of handling the situation. “See here, Gygyo Rablin, you are the very last man on Earth—past, present or future—that I ever want to see again. And you know why! Any man who—who says things to a girl like you s-said to m-me, and at s-such a t-time…”
Against her will, and to her extreme annoyance, her voice broke. Tears tickled their way down her face. She set her lips determinedly and tried to shake them away.
G ygyo looked really uncomfortable now. He sat down on a corner of the desk, which twitched under him more erratically than ever.
“I am sorry, Mary Ann. Truly, terribly, sincerely sorry. I should never have made love to you in the first place. Even without our substantial temporal and cultural differences, I’m certain you know as well as I do that we have precious little in common. But I found you—well, exciting like no woman in my own time, or any woman that I’ve ever encountered in a visit to the future. Bizarre—earthy—violently female. I just couldn’t resist the attraction. The one thing I didn’t anticipate was the depressing effect your peculiar cosmetics would have upon me. The actual tactile sensations were extremely upsetting.”
“That’s not what you said. And the
way
you said it! You rubbed your finger on my face and lips, and you went: ‘
Grea-sy! Grea-sy!
’” Thoroughly in control of herself now, she mimicked him viciously.
Gygyo shrugged. “I said I’m sorry and I meant it. But if you only knew how that stuff feels to a highly educated tactile sense! That smeary red lipstick—that tinted grit on your cheeks! There’s no excuse for me, that I’ll grant, but I’m just trying to make you understand why I erupted so stupidly.”
“I suppose you think I’d be a lot nicer if I shaved my head like some of these women—like that horrible Flureet!”
He smiled and shook his head. “You couldn’t be like them and they couldn’t be like you. There are entirely different concepts of womanhood and beauty involved. In your period, the greatest emphasis is on a kind of physical similarity, whereas we place the accent on difference, but most particularly on
emotional
difference. The more emotions a woman can exhibit and the more complex they are, the more striking is she considered. That’s the point of the shaved heads: to show suddenly appearing subtle wrinkles that might be missed if the area were covered with hair. We call Woman’s bald head her Frowning Glory.”
M ary Ann’s shoulders slumped and she stared down at the floor, which started to raise a section of itself questioningly, but sank down again as it realized that nothing was required of it. “I don’t understand, and I guess I won’t ever understand. All I know is that I just can’t stay in the same world with you, Gygyo Rablin—the very thought of it makes me feel kind of all wrong and sick inside.”
“I do understand,” he said seriously. “And for whatever comfort it may be—you have the same effect on me. I’d never have done anything as supremely idiotic as going on a locked microhunt in an impure culture before I met you. But those exciting stories of your adventuresome friend Edgar Rapp finally crept under my skin. I found I had to prove myself a man in your terms, Mary Ann—in
your
terms!”
“Edgar Rapp?” She
Similar Books
