“And me, too!” announced Karen. “Bears! Come, Barbie, let’s go in. Daddy, if the Moon comes up, this must be Earth- and I’ll never trust a comic book again.”
“Go ask your brother.”
Duke’s discovery was the main subject at dinner. Karen’s disappointment was offset by her interest in how they had mislaid Mountain Springs. “Duke, are you sure you saw what you thought you saw?”
“No possible mistake,” Hugh answered for him. “If it weren’t for the trees, you could have spotted it. We had to climb Reservoir Hill to get a clear view.”
“You were gone all that time just to Reservoir Hill? Why, that’s only five minutes away!”
“Duke, explain to your sister about automobiles.”
“I think the bomb did it,” Barbara said suddenly.
“Why, certainly, Barb. The question is how?”
“I mean the enormous H-bomb the Russians claimed to have in orbit. The one they called the ‘Cosmic Bomb.’ I think it hit us.”
“Go on, Barbara.”
“Well, the first bomb was awful and the second one was bad; they almost burned us up. But the third one just hit us whammy! and then no noise, no heat, no rumbling, and the radioactivity got less instead of worse. Here’s my notion:
You’ve heard of parallel worlds? A million worlds side by side, almost alike but not quite? Worlds where Elizabeth married Essex and Mark Anthony hated redheads? And Ben Franklin got electrocuted with his kite? Well, this is one.”
“First automobiles and now Benjamin Franklin. I’ll go watch Ben Casey.”
“Like this, Karen. The Cosmic Bomb hits us, dead on- and kicks us into the next world. One exactly like the one we were in, except that it never had men in it.”
“I’m not sure I like a world with no men. I’d rather have a strange planet, with warlords riding thoats. Or is it zitidars?”
“What do you think of my theory, Hugh?”
“I’m keeping an open mind. I’ll go this far: We should not count on finding other human beings.”
“I go for your theory, Barbara,” Duke offered. “It accounts for the facts. Squeezed out like a melon seed. Pht!”
“And we landed here.”
Duke shrugged. “Let it be known as the Barbara Wells Theory of Cosmic Transportation and stand adopted. Here we are; we’re stuck with it-and I’m going to bed. Who sleeps where, Hugh?”
“Just a second. Folks, meet the Rationing Officer. Take a bow, Duke.” Hugh explained the austerity program. “Duke will work it out but that’s the idea. For example, I noticed a bent nail on the ground in the powder room. That calls for being spread-eagled and flogged. For a serious offense, such as wasting a match, it’s keelhauling. Second offense-hang him at the yardarm!”
“Gee! Do we get to watch?”
“Shut up, Karen. No punishments, just the miserable knowledge that you have deprived the rest of something necessary to life, health, or comfort. So don’t give Duke any back talk. I want to make another assignment. Baby, you know shorthand.”
“That’s putting it strongly. Mr. Gregg wouldn’t think so.”
“Hugh, I take shorthand. What do you want?”
“Okay, Barbara, you are historian. Today is Day One. Or start with the calendar we are used to, but we may adjust it; those were winter stars. Every night jot down the events and put it in longhand later. Your title is Keeper of the Flame. As soon as possible, you really will be Keeper of the Flame; we will have to light a fire, then bank it every night. Sorry to have held you up, Duke.”
“I’ll sleep in the tank room, Hugh. You take a bunk.”
“Wait a minute. Buddy, would you stay up ten minutes longer? Daddy, could Barbara and I use the tank room for a spit bath? May we have that much water? A girl who digs privies needs a bath.”
“Sure, Sis,” Duke agreed.
“Water is no problem,” Hugh told her. “But you can bathe in the stream in the morning. Just one thing: Whenever anyone is bathing, someone should stand guard. I wasn’t fooling about bears.”
Karen shivered. “I didn’t think you were. But that reminds me, Daddy- Do we dash out to the powder room? Or hold it all night? I’m not sure I can. But I’ll try-rather than play tag with bears!”