The Mindworm knew he would have to be moving again—soon. He was sorry; some of the thoughts he had tapped indicated good . . . hunting?
Regretfully, he again dragged his net:
“. . . with chartreuse drinks I mean drapes could use a drink come to think of it. . .”
“. . . reep-beep-reep-beep reepiddy-beepiddy-beep bop man wadda beat. . .”
” JS,(pfo,, *,)-Ј»(*„ aj, What the Hell was that?”
The Mindworm withdrew, in frantic haste. The intelligence was massive, its overtones those of a vigorous adult. He had learned from certain dangerous children that there was peril of a leveling flow. Shaken and scared, he contemplated traveling. He would need more than that wretched girl had supplied, and it would not be epicurean. There would be no time to find individuals at a ripe emotional crisis, or goad them to one. It would be plain—munching. The Mindworm drank a glass of water, also necessary to his metabolism.
EIGHT FOUND DEAD IN UPTOWN MOVIE; “MOLESTER” SOUGHT
Eight persons, including three women, were found dead Wednesday night of unknown causes in widely separated seats in the balcony of the Odeon Theater at 117th St. and Broadway. Police are seeking a man described by the balcony usher, Michael Fenelly, 18, as “acting like a woman-molester.”
Fenelly discovered the first of the fatalities after seeing the man “moving from one empty seat to another several times.” He went to ask a woman hi a seat next to one the man had just vacated whether he had annoyed her. She was dead.
Almost at once, a scream rang out. In another part of the balcony Mrs. Sadie Rabinowitz, 40, uttered the cry when another victim toppled from his seat next to her.
Theater manager I. J. Marcusohn stopped the show and turned on the house lights. He tried to instruct his staff to keep the audience from leaving before the police arrived. He failed to get word to them in time, however, and most of the audience was gone when a detail from the 24th Pet. and an ambulance from Harlem hospital took over at the scene of the tragedy.
The Medical Examiner’s office has not yet made a report as to the causes of death. A spokesman said the victims showed no signs of poisoning or violence. He added that it “was inconceivable that it could be a coincidence.”
Lt. John Braidwood of the 24th Pet. said of the alleged
molester: “We got a fair description of him and naturally we will try to bring him in for questioning.”
Clickety-click, clickety-dick, dickety-click sang the rails as the Mindworm drowsed in his coach seat.
Some people were walking forward from the diner. One was thinking: “Different-looking fellow, (a) he’s aberrant, (b) he’s nonaber-rant and ill. Cancel (b)—respiration normal, skin smooth and healthy, no tremor of limbs, well-groomed. Is aberrant (1) trivially. (2) significantly. Cancel (1)—displayed no involuntary interest when . . . odd! Running for the washroom! Unexpected because (a) neat grooming indicates amour propre inconsistent with amusing others; (b) evident health inconsistent with . . .” It had taken one second, was fully detailed.
The Mindworm, locked in the toilet of the coach, wondered what the next stop was. He was getting off at it—not frightened, just careful. Dodge them, keep dodging them and everything would be all right. Send out no mental taps until the train was far away and everything would be all right.
He got off at a West Virginia coal and iron town surrounded by ruined mountains and filled with the offscourings of Eastern Europe. Serbs, Albanians, Croats, Hungarians, Slovenes, Bulgarians, and all possible combinations and permutations thereof. He walked slowly from the smoke-stained, brownstone passenger station. The train had roared on its way.
“. . . ain’ no gemmum that’s fo sho’, fi-cen’ tip fo’ a good shine lak ah give um . . .”
“. . . dumb bassar don’t know how to make out a billa lading yet he ain’t never gonna know so fire him get it over with…”
“. . . gabblegabblegabble . . .” Not a word he recognized in it.
“… gobblegobble dat tarn vooman I brek she nack. . .”