Stranger in a Strange Land(190)

By: Robert A. Heinlein



Caxton looked utterly astounded. Jubal growled, “Oh, I’m not telling tales out of school; they’re smug as can be—nothing secret about any of it. They’re undoubtedly sore at me right now because I took you up here without giving them time to boast. So be a gent and be surprised when they tell you.”

“Uh, which one is getting married?”

“Isn’t that obvious? The happy man is that smooth-talking refugee from a sand storm, our esteemed water brother Stinky Mahmoud. I’ve told him flatly that they have to live here whenever they’re in this country. Bastard just laughed and said how else?—pointed out that I had invited him to live here, permanently, long ago.” Jubal sniffed. “Wouldn’t be so bad if he would just do it. I might even get some work out of her. Maybe.”

“You probably would. She likes to work. And the other two are pregnant?”

“Higher ’n a kite. I’m refreshing myself in O.B. because they both say they’re going to have ’em at home. And what a crimp that’s going to put into my working habits! Worse than kittens. But why do you assume that neither of the two turgescent tummies belongs to the bride?”

“Oh—Why, I suppose I assumed that Stinky was more conventional than that . . . or maybe more cautious.”

“Stinky wouldn’t be given a ballot. Ben, in the eighty or ninety years I have given to this subject, trying to trace out the meanderings of their twisty little minds, the only thing that I have learned for certain about women is that when a gal is gonna, she’s gonna. All a man can do is cooperate with the inevitable.”

Ben thought ruefully about times when he had resorted to fast footwork—and other times when he hadn’t been fast enough. “Yeah, you’re right. Well, which one isn’t getting married or pregnant or anything? Miriam? Or Anne?”

“Hold it, I didn’t say the bride was pregnant . . . and anyhow, you seem to be assuming that Dorcas is the prospective bride. You haven’t kept your eyes open. It’s Miriam who is studying Arabic like mad, so she can do it right.”

“Huh? Well, I’ll be a cross-eyed baboon!”

“You obviously are.”

“But Miriam was always snapping at Stinky—”

“And to think that they trust you with a newspaper column. Ever watch a bunch of sixth-graders?”

“Yes, but—Dorcas did everything but a nautch dance.”

“That is just Dorcas’s natural, normal behavior with all men. She used it toward you, too—although I suppose you were too preoccupied elsewhere to realize it. Never mind. Just be sure that when Miriam shows you her ring—the size of a roc’s egg and about as scarce—be sure to be surprised. And I’m damned if I’ll sort out which two are spawning, so that you’ll be certain to be surprised. Just remember that they are pleased about it . . . which is why I tipped you off ahead of time, so that you wouldn’t make the mistake of thinking that they thought they were ‘caught.’ They don’t. They weren’t. They’re smug.” Jubal sighed. “But I’m not. I’m getting too old to enjoy the patter of little feet when I’m busy . . . and contrariwise, I won’t lose perfect secretaries—and kids that I love, as you know—for any reason if I can possibly induce them to stay. But I must say that this household has become steadily more disorganized ever since the night Jill kicked Mike’s feet out from under him. Not that I blame her . . . and I don’t think you do, either.”

“No, I don’t, but—Jubal, let me get this straight. Are you under the impression that Jill started Mike on his merry rounds?”

“Huh?” Jubal looked startled, then thought back—and admitted to himself that he had never known . . . he had simply assumed it from the fact that when it came to a decision, Jill had been the one who had gone away with Mike. “Who was it?”

“‘Don’t be nosy, bub,’ as you would put it. If she wants to tell you, she will. However, Jill told me—straightened me out when I made the same jumping-to-conclusions that you did. Mmm—” Ben thought. “As I understand it, which one of the four happened to score the first run was more or less chance.”

“Mmm . . . yes. I believe you’re right.”

“Jill thinks so. Except that she thinks Mike was exceedingly lucky in happening to seduce, or be seduced by (if I have the proper verb)—by the one best fitted to start him off right. Which may give you some hint if you know anything about how Jill’s mind works.”

“Hell, I don’t even know how mine works . . . and as for Jill, I would never have expected her to take up preaching no matter how love-struck she was—so I certainly don’t know how her mind works.”