You Don't Make Wine Like the Greeks Did Page 5

reach.

  "Lime martinis, like a daiquiri, only dryer. If you don't care for themyou might refill my glass. That's right, you did tell me she didn'tremember, but of course--"

  "You didn't believe me," Donald finished for him. "Naturally. Look, Dr.Quink, I think I'm a reasonable man. Damn it, I _know_ I am. I don'texpect you to believe me right off the rat when I walk in and tellyou--"

  "Bat," Victor interrupted.

  "I beg your pardon," Donald countered.

  "Bat. Right off the. Not rat, right off the bat. It's a colloquialism,comes from baseball, that's a sport we play. Perhaps you haven't comeacross it, if you've only been here some eight months?"

  "Yes, just about eight months. I've heard of the sport, of course, buthaven't gone to see a game yet. Do you think it's worth my while?"

  "Probably not. Strictly a partisan sport."

  "Yes, I see your point. Not an idiom, you wouldn't say?"

  "No, definitely not," Victor said. "Takes time to make an idiom, butonly God can make a tree. O Lord, I better have another martini. Wouldyou pour, I think I might miss. Still, a colloquialism, not a doubtabout it. The expression hasn't lasted to your day, I take it? If ithad, then it might be an idiom. Might, I say, only might. I promisenothing."

  "And quite right you are," Donald said. "Still, I want you to understandthat I don't expect you to believe me right off the bat when I wanderinto your busy little office and tell you--by the way, what is yourreceptionist doing always staring at the floor right next to her desk?"

  "She's in love. He's an advertising man."

  "Oh, well yes, of course. When I tell you I come from the future.Obviously you're not going to accept that right off the rat, as I say. Imean, no one could expect you to. However, after talking at length to mein your office and then holding a private conversation with my wife, youshould, I think, as a trained and highly competent psychiatrist,certainly the foremost of your day--"

  * * * * *

  At this point Victor had waved a deprecating hand.

  "Please allow me to say that I am certainly a better judge of yourposition in this world than you could possibly be. Seeing it in theproper perspective, I mean. I did not intend to compliment you when Idescribed you as I just did, I merely state a fact already known to myconfreres. Then you should, as I say, under these most favorablecircumstances, and certainly being forewarned, then you should be ableto tell who is suffering from a delusion and who is not. Apart from whatthe delusion is, and whether or not you choose to believe in it, simplystudying the behavior of the people involved, you should be able to tellwho is acting normally and who is not."

  "I agree with you in every particular," Victor said. "I certainlyshould. And I think I can, and have. In point of fact--"

  "Dinner is ready," Mimi said. "And no shop talk, please. I want you totaste my squash and applesauce piece. And no one, absolutely _no_ one,comes into my dining room with a stinking black cigar."

  "Could it be Galilililu?" Donald murmured. "Damn."

  * * * * *

  "This is excellent," Victor said. "How do you make it?"

  "Why, thank you," Mimi replied. "It's very simple. You just take thesquash and then pour in the applesauce and cinnamon."

  "There must be more to it than that," Victor insisted, smiling around amouthful.

  "Of course there is," she said. "But I'm not telling you all my secrets.You'll have to come back if you want it again."

  "Damn it," said Donald, "stop jibber-jabbering! We know why we're here,so let's talk about it. Can you cure my crazy wife?"

  "Donald!" Mimi spluttered.

  "Now, Mr. Fairfield," Victor said, "let's not be unfair. Your wife hasamnesia, but she's not crazy. As a matter of fact, psychiatrists nolonger recognize the term as such--"

  "Pass the roast," Donald said. "Do you think _I'm_ crazy or don't you?"

  "I most certainly do not!"

  "Do you think I was born in the future?"

  "Mr. Fairfield, talking like this isn't getting us anywhere. NowMimi--I'm sorry, Mrs. Fairfield--doesn't remember anything previous tothat train ride we were talking about...."

  "Naturally," Donald said. "That's when we got here. We'll skip thetechnicalities, but it's always easier to land on something that'smoving. Standard procedure. I don't really understand it myself, but I'mno engineer. We landed in the twentieth century--is it the twentieth orthe twenty-first?"

  "The twentieth," Victor assured him.

  "Isn't that silly of me. I'm always getting mixed up. It doesn't makemuch difference, though, you know. Not much of a change from one to theother. Not like the nineteenth and twentieth, nothing like that at all.Do you ever find yourself wondering if it's the twentieth of the monthor the twenty-first?"

  "I have a calendar on my desk."

  "Oh," Donald mused. "I didn't notice it." He stared intently at VictorQuink while he munched his celery. "It's not hard to see why you'verisen to the top of your profession. Calendar on your desk, eh?" Helooked at his wife and tapped the side of his head significantly.

  * * * * *

  "You landed aboard this train some eight months ago," Dr. Quinkprompted. "What are you doing here, anyhow? Are you an historian?"

  "Nonsense," he replied at once. "Haven't you noticed all the books youpeople are writing? Every one of your presidents, every general, everyfield-marshal, every scientist, manufacturer, tennis star, and juveniledelinquent has written a book, or at least a serial for the _Post_. Noreason at all for any historian to come back to this particular age. Noother age in all history, I might add, has been so fond of itself or socognizant of the need for preserving itself and its records forposterity as has yours. And with very little reason. But of course thatlast is only a personal observation, and I may be prejudiced, havinglived here, so to speak, for these past months. You get to see the seamyside of a civilization, you know, when you live there yourself.Incidentally, would you be interested to know how your age has beenclassified by posterity? Of course you would, silly of me to ask. Well,to get on with it, you know how historians are always _naming_ periods,and groups, and whatever. The Age of Darkness, you remember, then theAge of Awakening, the Age of Enlightenment, the Age of Reason, etcetera? As it turns out, you've come down to us as the Age of Verbiage.Amusing, eh? No? Well, you can't please everybody. I thought it wascute. But in answer to your question I'll have to say no, I'm just atourist. I'm on vacation. Nothing more sensational than that, I'mafraid."

  "And naturally you took your wife with you," Victor added.

  * * * * *

  Donald looked down at his plate for just a moment or two, then answered"naturally," without raising his eyes at all.

  "Somehow, Mr. Fairfield," Victor said, "somehow I get the feeling you'reholding out on me, you're not telling me all."

  "Damn it, the more I tell you the less you believe. I never should havetold you the truth at all. I should have just said my wife's sufferingfrom amnesia and let it go at that."

  "I'm not an engineer either," Victor answered. "I can't just twist ascrew and restore the proper functioning of the memory mechanism. I'vegot to know the whole truth, Mr. Fairfield, the whole truth."

  "How come my wife is Mimi and I'm Mr. Fairfield?"

  "I'm sorry," Victor stammered, "I--"

  "Donald, you're embarrassing him," Mimi interrupted.

  "Just joshing, pulling your toe, or leg, or some such," Donald assuredhim. "We might as well be friends, at least. Make it Donald too. I mighteven take your autograph back with me. I think the fights are ontelevision. Want to watch?"

  "I'll just do up the dishes, dear," Mimi said.

  "I'm afraid I don't care much for the prize fights," Victor said.

  "Just sit where you are then, and relax. I'm going to watch them. Won'tsee many more of them before we go," he said, throwing a lowering glanceat his wife as he left the room. He returned in a few moments, however,befor
e the two of them had had time to begin a conversation, andaddressed Victor, "Sorry to interfere, promise I won't interrupt again.I'm sure you two are making just miles of progress and I dislike therole of an impedance, but a phrase just popped into my head and I'm sureI won't be able