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slowly, trying not to think about his nightmare. He went to
the bathroom and brushed his teeth with the chlorophyll
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toothpaste his wife had bought. He remembered how much
he hated to bring it with him. Everything in the world was
being colored, scented, or flavored with chlorophyll these
days. He didn't notice any difference. It was only an
advertising fad. He hated to be conned by advertising. After
his brief toilet, he returned to his room, pulled back the
bedspread, and went back to sleep. He had no more unusual
dreams that night.
In the morning he was awakened by Aunt Rozji, calling up
the stairs to him. "Good day, Young Newby," she said. "It is
morning. Have you rested?"
"Yes," he said, rubbing his eyes regretfully. "More or less."
"Good, then," she said. "It is time to renew your combat."
"Oh, yes. I was trying to forget."
"That is very gracious of you," she said. "But do not worry
about besting our local champion. We are good sportsmen in
Gremmage."
Newby dressed quickly and came downstairs with his
suitcase. Aunt Rozji was ready to go. She told the salesman
that breakfast could be taken at the diner. Together they
went out to his car.
It wasn't there. From Aunt Rozji's porch, Newby could see
the place along the tree lawn where he had left it. An empty
space, now, between a black Studebaker and a red and white
Dodge. He felt an anger growing, an ugly feeling, a sickness
in his stomach. "My car's gone," he said through clenched
teeth.
"Your car?" asked Aunt Rozji.
"It's gone, damn it."
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"Are you sure you left it here?"
"You know damn well where I left it," he said. "You were
with me."
"Perhaps someone took it by mistake," she said. Newby
didn't answer. "Well, I suppose you ought to tell the police."
"You have police in this idiotic town?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. "Even towns as small as this sometimes
have crime."
"So what do I do now?"
"You must walk with me to the diner. The police
department won't be open for another forty-five minutes. We
can have breakfast first. Perhaps the others will have
something to suggest."
"What happens if you have an emergency after the police
go home for the night?" asked Newby.
Aunt Rozji looked at him in surprise. "Why, we all chip in,"
she said. "We all work together. That is how we shall find
your car." A while later they arrived at the diner on Ridge
Street. Newby was out of breath, but the old woman seemed
in good shape.
"Good morning," said Lauren cheerfully.
"Young Newby's car has been stolen," said Aunt Rozji.
"Stolen?" said Old Man Durfee, already studying the final
position of the chess game from the day before.
"You know," said Newby. "Unauthorized theft or
something."
"I don't think I'm in as much difficulty as we believed last
evening," said Old Man Durfee.
"That's certainly good news," said Lauren.
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"I don't give a damn about that," said Newby. "I have work
to do. I want my car."
"Sit down," said the waitress. "Have some coffee. Do you
want a muffin? French toast?"
"Don't you have to go to school?" asked Newby.
"No," she said. "This isn't such a big town."
"It really isn't," said Old Man Durfee.
"Whose move is it?" asked Aunt Rozji. "I forget."
"Mine," said Old Man Durfee.
"No," said Newby, "I think it's mine. You moved that pawn
to Knight Three."
"Yes," said Old Man Durfee, "you're right. I'm sorry. What's
your move?"
"It's obvious," said Newby. "I'm going to call the cops and
see if they've recovered my car. Then I'm going to leave this
nuthouse as fast as I can."
"Can I move for you?" asked Lauren.
"You don't know how to play, remember?" said Newby.
"Here. I'll take your king pawn with the knight. Now I'm
attacking both your queen and the rook guarding your king."
"That's very true," said Old Man Durfee slowly.
"`Don't be cruel, to a heart that's true,'" sang Lauren.
"Will you be quiet?" asked the drunk.
"`Don't be cruel,'" she sang.
"All right," said Old Man Durfee, "before I take your knight,
I wonder if you'd do something for me. I had these made up
last night. Would you go through these two pages? It's sort of
a little quiz. It won't take you very long. I think the results
may surprise you. Maybe you ought to do it before you try
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Dirty Tricks
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talking with the police." The old man handed Newby two
pages, covered with questions in blurry mimeograph ink.
"What is this?" asked the salesman.
"Here," said Lauren, "you can use my ballpoint."
Newby read the first multiple-choice question: What is
today's date? The answers were a) March 8, 1956; b)
September 12, 1954; c) June 26, 1959; d) August 30, 1957.
Newby had some difficulty deciding which answer was
appropriate. The trouble bothered him. He hesitated a few
seconds, then checked a. The second question was: What was
yesterday's date? The possibilities were a) May 21, 1955; b)
January 2, 1951; c) November 15, 1957; d) April 28, 1958.
More confused, he checked c. There were a few more
questions in a similar mode, requiring him to decide what the
date of a week from Friday would be, and so on. He did the
best he could.
The second page asked questions of a more concrete
nature. Where are you? a) in a town in Colorado; b) in a
suburb of Dallas; c) in a European nation that has not existed
since the end of the First World War; d) in the garment
district. Newby checked b, hoping that it was the closest to
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