Time Enough For Love Part 36

"I'm offering it. But it's your body, most dear one. Your life."

She stared out the window. " 'More than half of them,' you said."

"With the percentage increasing. Our kids breed like cats. And so do their kids."

"Lazarus, truly we settled this many, many years ago. But it is even more so now. I don't want to leave our valley even to visit the outside. I don't want to leave our children. Nor our children's children, nor their their children. And I certainly would not want to come back looking like a young girl . . to watch the births of our great-great-grandchildren. You're right; I've earned my gray hairs. And now I'll wear them!" children. And I certainly would not want to come back looking like a young girl . . to watch the births of our great-great-grandchildren. You're right; I've earned my gray hairs. And now I'll wear them!"

"That's the girl I married! That's my durable Dora!" He moved his hand up higher, cupped a breast and tickled a nipple. She jumped, then relaxed to it. "I knew your answer, but I had to ask. My darling, age cannot wither you, nor custom stale your infinite variety. Where other women satiate, you most make hungry!"

She smiled. "I'm not Cleopatra, Woodrow."

"Wench, that's your opinion. But what's your opinion against mine? Rangy Lil, I've seen thousands and thousands more women than you have-and I I say that you make Cleopatra look homely." say that you make Cleopatra look homely."

"Blarney tongue," she said softly. "I'm sure you've never had a woman turn you down."

"True only because I never risk being turned down; I wait to be asked. Always."

"Are you waiting to be asked? All right, I'm asking. Then I'd better start dinner."

"Don't be in such a hurry, Lil. First I'm going to dump you on that bed. Then I'm going to flip your skirt up. Then I'm going to see if I can find any gray hair at that that end. If so, I'll pluck them for you." end. If so, I'll pluck them for you."

"Beast. Scoundrel. Lecherous old goat." She smiled in delight. "I thought we weren't going to bother anymore with plucking gray hairs?"

"We were speaking of hair on your head head, Great-Grandmother. But this other end is as young as ever-and better than ever-so we'll most carefully pluck any gray from your pretty-your pretty brown curls."

"Sweetest old goat. If you can find any, you're welcome. But I've been plucking that end even more carefully than my scalp. Let me slip this dress off."

"Wups! Hold it. That's Rangy Lil, the h.o.r.n.i.e.s.t b.i.t.c.h in Happy Valley, always in a hurry. Get your dress off if you wish, but I'm going to find Lurton and tell him to saddle up Best Boy and go beg supper and a shakedown from his sister Marje and Lyle. Then I'll be back to pluck those disgraceful gray curls. Supper will be late, I'm afraid."

"I don't mind if you don't, beloved."

"That's my Lil. Darling, there isn't a man in the valley who wouldn't grab you and try to find another valley if you gave him the slightest encouragement-that includes your own sons and your sons-in-law-every male here down to fourteen."

"Oh, not true! Blarney again."

"Want to bet? On second thought we won't waste time plucking gray hairs at either end. When I get back from telling our youngest son to get lost for the night, I want to find you wearing just rubies and a smile. Because you're not going to cook supper; we're going to sc.r.a.pe up a cold picnic instead and take it and a blanket up on the roof . . and enjoy the sunset."

"Yes, sir. Oh, darling, I love you! E.F.? Or F.F.?"

"I'll leave that choice to Rangy Lil."

(Circa 39,000 words omitted) Lazarus opened the bedroom door very quietly, looked in, looked inquiringly at his daughter Elf-a strikingly beautiful middle-aged woman with flaming red curls shot slightly with gray. She said, "Come in, Papa; Mama's awake."

She stood up to leave, taking with her a supper tray.

He glanced at it, subtracted in his mind what was still on it from what he had seen leave the kitchen on it-got a sum which was too near zero to please him. But he said nothing, simply went to the bedside, smiled down at his wife. Dora smiled back. He leaned over and kissed her, then sat down where Elf had been. "How is my darling?"

"Just fine, Woodrow. Ginny-no, Elf. Elf brought me the tastiest supper. I enjoyed it so much. But I asked her to put my rubies on me before she fed me-did you notice?"

"Of course I did, Beautiful. When did Rangy Lil ever eat supper without her rubies?"

She didn't answer, her eyes closed. Lazarus kept quiet, watched her respiration, counted her heartbeats by watching a pulse in her neck.

"Do you hear them, Lazarus?" Her eyes were open again.

"Hear what, Dorable?"

"The wild geese. They must be right over the house."

"Oh. Yes, certainly."

"They're early this year." That seemed to tire her; she closed her eyes again. He waited.

"Sweetheart? Will you sing 'Buck's Song'?"

"Certainly, 'dorable Dora." Lazarus cleared his throat and started in: " 'There's a schoolhouse By the p.a.w.nshop Where Dora has her lessons.

" 'By the schoolhouse There's a mule yard Where Dora's friend Buck lives.' "

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She closed her eyes again, so he sang the other verses very softly. But when he finished, she smiled at him. "Thank you, darling; that was lovely. It's always been lovely. But I'm a little tired-if I drop off to sleep, will you still be here?"

"I'll always be here, dearest. You sleep now."

She smiled again, and her eyes closed. Presently her breathing grew slower as she slept.

Her breathing stopped.

Lazarus waited a long time before he called in Ginny and Elf.

SECOND INTERMISSION.

More from the Notebooks of Lazarus Long

Always tell her she is beautiful, especially if she is not.

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If you are part of a society that votes, then do so. There may be no candidates and no measures you want to vote for but there are certain to be ones you want to vote against. against. In case of doubt, vote In case of doubt, vote against. against. By this rule you will rarely go wrong. By this rule you will rarely go wrong.

If this is too blind for your taste, consult some well-meaning fool (there is always one around) and ask his advice. Then vote the other way. This enables you to be a good citizen (if such is your wish) without spending the enormous amount of time on it that truly intelligent exercise of franchise requires.

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Sovereign ingredient for a happy marriage: Pay cash or do without. Interest charges not only eat up a household budget; awareness of debt eats up domestic felicity.

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Those who refuse to support and defend a state have no claim to protection by that state. Killing an anarchist or a pacifist should not be defined as "murder" in a legalistic sense. The offense against the state, if any, should be "Using deadly weapons inside city limits," or "Creating a traffic hazard," or "Endangering bystanders," or other misdemeanor.

However, the state may reasonably place a closed season on these exotic asocial animals whenever they are in danger of becoming extinct. An authentic buck pacifist has rarely been seen off Earth, and it is doubtful that any have survived the trouble there . . regrettable, as they had the biggest mouths and the smallest brains of any of the primates.

The small-mouthed variety of anarchist has spread through the Galaxy at the very wave front of the Diaspora; there is no need to protect them. But they often shoot back.

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Another ingredient for a happy marriage: Budget the luxuries first! first!

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And still another-See to it that she has her own desk-then keep your hands off it!

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And another-In a family argument, if it turns out you are right-apologize at once!

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"G.o.d split himself into a myriad parts that he might have friends." This may not be true, but it sounds good-and is no sillier than any other theology.

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To stay young requires unceasing cultivation of the ability to unlearn old falsehoods.

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Does history record any any case in which the majority was right? case in which the majority was right?

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When the fox gnaws-smile!

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A "critic" is a man who creates nothing and thereby feels qualified to judge the work of creative men. There is logic in this; he is unbiased-he hates all creative people equally.

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Money is truthful. If a man speaks of his honor, make him pay cash.

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Never frighten a little man. He'll kill you.

Only a s.a.d.i.s.tic scoundrel-or a fool-tells the bald truth on social occasions.

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This sad little lizard told me that he was a brontosaurus on his mother's side. I did not laugh; people who boast of ancestry often have little else to sustain them. Humoring them costs nothing and adds to happiness in a world in which happiness is always in short supply.

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In handling a stinging insect, move very slowly.

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To be "matter of fact" about the world is to blunder into fantasy-and dull fantasy at that, as the real world is strange and wonderful.

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The difference between science and the fuzzy subjects is that science requires reasoning, while those other subjects merely require scholarship.

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Copulation is spiritual in essence-or it is merely friendly exercise. On second thought, strike out "merely." Copulation is not "merely"-even when it is just a happy pastime for two strangers. But copulation at its spiritual best is so much more than physical coupling that it is different in kind as well as in degree.

The saddest feature of h.o.m.os.e.xuality is not that it is "wrong" or "sinful" or even that it can't lead to progeny-but that it is more difficult to reach through it this spiritual union. Not impossible-but the cards are stacked against it.

But-most sorrowfully-many people never achieve spiritual sharing even with the help of male-female advantage; they are condemned to wander through life alone.

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Touch is the most fundamental sense. A baby experiences it, all over, before he is born and long before he learns to use sight, hearing, or taste, and no human ever eases to need it. Keep your children short on pocket money-but long on hugs.

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Secrecy is the beginning of tyranny.

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The greatest productive force is human selfishness.

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Be wary of strong drink. It can make you shoot at tax collectors-and miss.

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The profession of shaman has many advantages. It offers high status With a safe livelihood free of work in the dreary, sweaty sense. In most societies it offers legal privileges and immunities not granted to other men. But it is hard to see how a man who has been given a mandate from on High to spread tidings of joy to all mankind can be seriously interested in taking up a collection to pay his salary; it causes one to suspect that the shaman is on the moral level of any other con man.

But it's lovely work if you can stomach it.