"But-"

"I mean it, Frannie."

"Stuart, they'll congeal congeal or something. I put half a box of Tide in there-" or something. I put half a box of Tide in there-"

"Don't worry."

So she sat down in the lawn chair in the building's shady overhang. He had set up two of them when they came back down. Stu took off his shoes and socks and rolled up his pants past the knee. As he stepped into the washtub and began gravely to stomp up and down on the clothes, she began to giggle helplessly.

Stu looked over and said, "You want to spend the night on the couch?"

"No, Stuart," she said with grave repentance, and then began to giggle again ... until tears ran down her cheeks and the little muscles in her stomach felt rubbery and weak. When she had some control again she said, "For the third and last time, what did you come back to talk about?"

"Oh yeah." He marched back and forth, and by now he had worked up quite a bed of lather. A pair of bluejeans floated to the surface and he stomped them back down, sending a creamy squirt of soapsuds onto the lawn. Frannie thought: It looks a little like...oh no, away with that, away with that unless you want to laugh yourself into a miscarriage. It looks a little like...oh no, away with that, away with that unless you want to laugh yourself into a miscarriage.

"We've got that first ad hoc meeting tonight," Stu said.

"I've got two cases of beer, cheese crackers, cheese spread, some pepperoni that should still be-"

"That's not it, Frannie. Dick Ellis came by today and said he wanted off the committee."

"He did?" She was surprised. Dick had not impressed her as the sort of man who would back away from responsibility.

"He said he'd be glad to serve in any capacity as soon as we get ourselves a real doctor, but just now he can't. We had another twenty-five come in today, and one of them had a gangrenous leg. Came from a scratch she got crawling under a rusty bobwire fence, apparently."

"Oh, that's bad."

"Dick saved her ... Dick and that nurse that came in with Underwood. Tall, pretty girl. Laurie Constable, her name is. Dick said he just would have lost the woman without her. Anyway, they took her leg off at the knee, and they're both exhausted. It took em three hours. Plus they've got a little boy with convulsive fits, and Dick's driving himself crazy trying to figure out if it's epilepsy or cranial pressure of some kind or maybe diabetes. They've had several cases of food poisoning from people eating stuff that's gone over, and he says some people are going to die of it if we don't get out a flier real soon telling people how to pick their supplies. Let's see, where was I? Two broken arms, one case of the flu-"

"My God! Did you say flu?" flu?"

"Ease up. It's the regular flu. Aspirin knocks down the fever no sweat ... and it doesn't come back up. No black patches on the neck, either. But Dick isn't sure which antibiotics to use, if any, and he's burning the midnight oil trying to find out. Also, he's scared the flu will spread and people will panic."

"Who is it?"

"A lady named Rona Hewett. She walked most of the way here from Laramie, Wyoming, and Dick says she was ripe for a bug."

Fran nodded.

"Lucky for us, this Laurie Constable seems sort of stuck on Dick, even though he's about twice her age. I guess that's all right."

"How big of you to give them your seal of approval, Stuart."

He smiled. "Anyhow, Dick's forty-eight and he's got a minor heart condition. Right now he feels that he can't spread himself too thin ... he's practically studying to be a doctor, for the Lord's sake." He looked soberly at Fran. "I can understand why that Laurie fell for him. He's the closest thing to a hero we've got around here. He's just a country vet and he's scared shitless he's going to kill someone. And he knows there are more people coming in every day, and some of them have been banged around."

"So we need one more for the committee."

"Yeah. Ralph Brentner's gung-ho for this Larry Underwood guy, and from what you say, he struck you as being pretty handy."

"Yes. He did. I think he'd be fine. And I met his lady today downtown. Lucy Swann, her name is. She's awfully sweet, and she thinks the world of Larry."

"I guess every good woman feels that way. But, Frannie, I got to be honest with you-I don't like the way he spilled his life's story to someone he just met."

"I think it was just because I was with Harold from the start. I don't think he understood why I was with you instead of him."

"I wonder what he made of Harold?"

"Ask him and see."

"I guess I will."

"Are you going to invite him onto the committee?"

"More likely than not." He stood up. "I'd like to have that old fellow they call the Judge. But he's seventy, and that's too damn old."

"Have you talked to him about Larry?"

"No, but Nick did. Nick Andros is one sharp guy, Fran. He changed a few things around on Glen and I. Glen was a little bent out of shape about it, but even he had to admit Nick's ideas were good ones. Anyway, the Judge told Nick that Larry's just the kind of person we're looking for. He said Larry was just getting around to finding out he was good for something, and that he was going to get a lot better."

"I'd call that a pretty strong recommendation."

"Yes," Stu said. "But I'm going to find out what he thought of Harold before I invite him along for the ride."

"What is it about Harold?" she asked restlessly.

"Might as well ask what it is about you, you, Fran. You still feel responsible for him." Fran. You still feel responsible for him."

"Do I? I don't know. But when I think about him, I still feel a little guilty-I can tell you that."

"Why? Because I cut in on him? Fran, did you ever want him?"

"No. God, no." She almost shuddered.

"I lied to him once," Stu said. "Well ... it wasn't actually a lie. It was the day the three of us met. July Fourth. I think he might have sensed what was coming even then. I said I didn't want you. How was I to know right then if I wanted you or not? There may be such a thing as love at first sight in books, but in real life ..."

He stopped, and a slow grin spread across his face.

"What are you grinning about, Stuart Redman?"

"I was just thinkin," he said, "that in real life it took me at least ..." He rubbed his chin consideringly. "Oh, I'm gonna say four hours."

She kissed his cheek. "That's very sweet."

"It's the truth. Anyway, I think he still holds what I said against me."

"He never says a mean word against you, Stu ... or anybody."

"No," Stu agreed. "He smiles. smiles. That's what I don't like." That's what I don't like."

"You don't think he's ... plotting revenge, or anything?"

Stu smiled and stood up. "No, not Harold. Glen thinks the Opposition Party may just end up coming together around Harold. That's okay. I just hope he doesn't try to fuck up what we're doing now."

"Just remember that he's scared and lonely."

"And jealous."

"Jealous?" She considered it, then shook her head. "I don't think so- I really don't. I've talked to him, and I think I'd know. He may be feeling rejected, though. I think he expected to be on the ad hoc committee-"

"That was one of Nick's unilateral-is that the word?-decisions that we all went along with. What it came down to was that none of us quite trusted him."

"In Ogunquit," she said, "he was the most insufferable kid you could imagine. A lot of it was compensation for his family situation, I guess ... to them it must have seemed like he had hatched from a cowbird egg or something ... but after the flu, he seemed to change. At least to me, he did. He seemed to be trying to be, well ... a man. Then he changed again. Like all at once. He started to smile all the time. You couldn't really talk to him anymore. He was ... in himself. The way people get when they convert to religion or read-" She stopped suddenly, and her eyes took on a momentary startled look that seemed very like fear.

"Read what?" Stu asked.

"Something that changes their lives," she said. "Das Kapital. Mein Kampf "Das Kapital. Mein Kampf Or maybe just intercepted love letters." Or maybe just intercepted love letters."

"What are you talking about?"

"Hmm?" She looked around at him, as if startled out of a deep daydream. Then she smiled. "Nothing. Weren't you going to go see Larry Underwood?"

"Sure ... if you're okay."

"I'm better than okay-I'm ultimately fine. Go on. Shoo. Meeting's at seven. If you hurry, you've got just enough time to get back here for some supper before."

"All right."

He was at the gate which separated the front yard from the back when she called after him: "Don't forget to ask him what he thought of Harold."

"Don't worry," Stu said, "I won't."

"And watch his eyes when he answers, Stuart."

When Stu asked casually about his impression of Harold (at this point Stu had not mentioned the vacancy on the ad hoc committee at all), Larry Underwood's eyes grew both wary and puzzled.

"Fran told you about my fixation on Harold, huh?"

"Yep."

Larry and Stu were in the living room of a small Table Mesa tract house. Out in the kitchen Lucy was rattling dinner together, heating canned stuff on a brazier grill Larry had rigged for her. It ran off bottled gas. She was singing snatches of "Honky Tonk Women" as she worked, and she sounded very happy.

Stu lit a cigarette. He was down to no more than five or six a day; he didn't fancy having Dick Ellis operating on him for lung cancer.

"Well, all the time I was following Harold I kept telling myself he probably wouldn't be like I pictured him. And he wasn't, but I'm still trying to figure out what it is is about him. He was pleasant as hell. A good host. He cracked the bottle of wine I brought him and we toasted each other's good health. I had a good time. But ..." about him. He was pleasant as hell. A good host. He cracked the bottle of wine I brought him and we toasted each other's good health. I had a good time. But ..."

"But?"

"We came up behind him. Leo and me. He was putting a brick wall around this flower garden and he whirled around ... didn't hear us coming until I spoke up, I guess ... and for a minute there I'm saying to myself, 'Holy God, this dude is gonna kill me.' "

Lucy came into the doorway. "Stu, can you stay for dinner? There's plenty."

"Thanks, but Frannie expects me back. I can only stay fifteen minutes or so."

"Sure?"

"Next time, Lucy, thanks."

"Okay." She went back into the kitchen.

"Did you come just to ask about Harold?" Larry asked.

"No," Stu said, coming to a decision. "I came to ask if you'd serve on our little ad hoc committee. One of the other guys, Dick Ellis, had to say no."

"Like that, is it?" Larry went to the window and looked out on the silent street. "I thought I could go back to being a private again."

"Your decision, of course. We need one more. You were recommended. "

"By who, if you don't mind me-"

"We asked around. Frannie seems to think you're pretty level. And Nick Andros talked-well, he doesn't talk, but you know-to one of the men that came in with you. Judge Farris."

Larry looked pleased. "The Judge gave me a recommendation, huh? That's great. You know, you ought to have him. He's smart as the devil."

"That's what Nick said. But he's also seventy, and our medical facilities are pretty primitive."

Larry turned to look at Stu, half smiling. "This committee isn't quite as temporary as it looks on the face of it, is it?"

Stu smiled and relaxed a little. He still hadn't really decided how he felt about Larry Underwood, but it was clear enough the man hadn't fallen off a hayrick yesterday. "We-ell, let's put it this way. We'd like to see our committee stand for election to a full term."

"Preferably unopposed," Larry said. His eyes on Stu were friendly but sharp-very sharp. "Can I get you a beer?"

"I better not. Had a few too many with Glen Bateman a couple nights ago. Fran's a patient girl, but her patience only stretches so far. What do you say, Larry? Want to ride along?"

"I guess ... oh hell, I say yes. I thought nothing in the world would make me happier than to get here and dump my people and let somebody else take over for a change. Instead, pardon my French, I've been just about bored out of my tits."

"We're having a little meeting tonight at my place to talk over the big meeting on the eighteenth. Think you could come?"

"Sure. Can I bring Lucy?"

Stu shook his head slowly. "Nor talk to her about it. We want to keep some of this stuff close for a while."

Larry's smile evaporated. "I'm not much on cloak-and-dagger, Stu. I better get that up front because it might save a hassle later. I think what happened in June happened because too many people were playing it a little too close. That wasn't any act of God. That was an act of pure human fuckery."

"That's one you don't want to get into with Mother," Stu said. He was still smiling, relaxed. "As it happens, I agree with you. But would you feel the same way if it was wartime?"

"I don't follow you."