BREAKDOWN
By HERBERT D. KASTLE
Illustrated by COWLES
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Galaxy Magazine June 1961.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
He didn't know exactly when it had started, but it had been going onfor weeks. Edna begged him to see the doctor living in that new housetwo miles past Dugan's farm, but he refused. He point-blank refused toadmit he was sick that way—in the head!
Of course, a man could grow forgetful. He had to admit there weremoments when he had all sorts of mixed-up memories and thoughts in hismind. And sometimes—like right now, lying in bed beside Edna, watchingthe first hint of light touch the windows—he began sweating with fear.A horrible, gut-wrenching fear, all the more horrible because it wasbased on nothing.
The chicken-run came alive; the barn followed minutes later. There werechores to do, the same chores he'd done all his forty-one years. Exceptthat now, with the new regulations about wheat and corn, he had onlya vegetable patch to farm. Sure, he got paid for letting the fieldsremain empty. But it just didn't seem right, all that land going towaste....
Davie. Blond hair and a round, tanned face and strong arms growingstronger each day from helping out after school.
He turned and shook Edna. "What happened to Davie?"
She cleared her throat, mumbled, "Huh? What happened to who?"
"I said, what...." But then it slipped away. Davie? No, that was partof a dream he'd had last week. He and Edna had no children.
He felt the fear again, and got up fast to escape it. Edna opened hereyes as soon as his weight left the bed. "Like hotcakes for breakfast?"
"Eggs," he said. "Bacon." And then, seeing her face change, heremembered. "Course," he muttered. "Can't have bacon. Rationed."
She was fully awake now. "If you'd only go see Dr. Hamming, Harry. Justfor a checkup. Or let me call him so he could—"
"You stop that! You stop that right now, and for good! I don't want tohear no more about doctors. I get laid up, I'll call one. And it won'tbe that Hamming who I ain't never seen in my life! It'll be Timkins,who took care'n us and brought our son into the world and...."
She began to cry, and he realized he'd said something crazy again. Theyhad no son, never had a son. And Timkins—he'd died and they'd gone tohis funeral. Or so Edna said.
He himself just couldn't remember it.
He went to the bed and sat down beside her. "Sorry. That was just adream I had. I'm still half asleep this morning. Couldn't fall off lastnight, not till real late. Guess I'm a little nervous, what with allthe new regulations and not working regular. I never meant we had ason." He waited then, hoping she'd say they had had a son, and he'ddied or gone away. But of course she didn't.
He went to the bathroom and washed. By the time he came to the kitchen,Edna had hotcakes on a plate and coffee in a cup. He sat down and ate.Part way through the meal, he paused. "Got an awful craving for meat,"he said. "Goddam those rations! Man can't even butcher his own stockfor his own table!"
"We're having meat for lunch," she said placatingly. "Nice cut ofmulti-pro."
"Multi-pro," he scoffed. "God knows what's in it. Like spam put througha