New Writings in SF 4 by John Carnell (ed.)

Author:John Carnell (ed.) [Carnell, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Short Story Collection, Science Fiction
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

THE COUNTRY OF THE STRONG

by

Dennis Etchison

Following up our discovery of young American writer, Dennis Etchison (he appeared in New Writings In S-F 2) we found that he had had a prizewinning short story published in Seventeen, America’s foremost teenage magazine, and managed to obtain permission to reprint it here.

THE COUNTRY OF THE STRONG

Marber’s renovated Isetta cut the corner sharply, humming smoothly on its miniature wheels.

Veering right, he bypassed a jagged-lightning crack that split the entire length of what would otherwise have been one of a half-dozen usable streets in town. When would the SS Teams begin suburb reconstruction?

Marber again scanned the illogical destruction spreading from the sixth or seventh Spanish-American style home down to the end of the block. Spider houses stood between, stick frames that cast long-shadow fingers Over charred earth and heaped concrete at each day’s death. A phantasma, he thought, like some desolate surrealist landscape I saw in a painting once—

A white flash bobbing up and down, up and down in front of the second house from the end caught and held his gaze.

But you know what? I’m getting used to it. That’s the grotesque part.

He recognized Darla, an SS man’s four-year-old, if he remembered correctly. The swelling four o’clock sun cast a halo of backlight on the little girl’s hair, spinning her a crown of angel-floss as she faced the car.

She strode into the street, hands curled on hips. Her tiny pale chin thrust out to meet the Isetta.

Marber pulled up.

“Hi-ya, you!” cried Darla as he swung open the front of the squat vehicle and stood, like some metamorphosed creature emerging from a cocoon.

The woman in blouse and faded pedal-pushers waved from the edge of the house before joining her daughter at the curb.

“I’m so glad you decided to stop by after all,” the woman beamed. “I thought sure you’d forgotten we were still here.”

“Nice to see you again, Mrs. Dayle.” He forced a smile for the SS man’s wife and nodded at the garage. “Generator holding up?”

She nodded appreciatively. “We’re almost as comfortable—as—as before. My husband’s been meaning to thank you for rigging it up and all, you know, but it seems he’s always out with the Team…”

“That’s all right.” He was aware of the whirring in the garage. “Glad everything’s in order.”

She laid her hands on her child’s shoulders. “Well, what’s been keeping you so busy?”

He felt the late sun warming the side of his face. “Oh, got to keep my own place from falling apart. And”—he gestured to the Isetta—“keep this baby running.”

She clucked. “You’re just lucky you found one that wasn’t just a pile of nuts and bolts. I can’t imagine where—”

“I had to piece her together from several, of course. Like a jigsaw.”

She shook her head in a semblance of admiration. The child chinned herself on her mother’s hands.

“When ya gonna take me forra ride like ya promised, Jerr-ry?” crooned the little girl coyly.

“Don’t bother Mr. Marber,” corrected her mother.

“I was just heading into San Bernardino to check on some spare parts.

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