The Stepford Wives (1972) by Levin Ira

Author:Levin, Ira [Levin, Ira]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General/Fiction
Published: 2011-01-28T00:00:00+00:00

Claude Axhelm came over one Saturday afternoon – to see her, not Walter. He had a briefcase with him.

‘I’ve got this project I’ve been working on in my spare time,’ he said, walking around the kitchen while she fixed him a cup of tea. ‘Maybe you’ve heard about it. I’ve been getting people to tape-record lists of words and syllables for me. The men do it up at the house, and the women do it in their homes.’

‘Oh yes,’ she said.

‘They tell me where they were born,’ he said, ‘and every place they’ve lived and for how long.’ He walked around, touching cabinet knobs. ‘I’m going to feed everything into a computer eventually, each tape with its geographical data. With enough samples I’ll be able to feed in a tape without data’ – he ran a fingertip along a counter edge, looking at her with his bright eyes – ‘maybe even a very short tape, a few words or a sentence – and the computer’ll be able to give a geographical rundown on the person, where he was born and where he’s lived. Sort of an electronic Henry Higgins. Not just a stunt though; I see it as being useful in police work.’

She said, ‘My friend Bobbie Markowe—’

‘Dave’s wife, sure.’

‘– got laryngitis from taping for you.’

‘Because she rushed it,’ Claude said. ‘She did the whole thing in two evenings. You don’t have to do it that fast. I leave the recorder; you can take as long as you like. Would you? It would be a big help to me.’

Walter came in from the patio; he had been burning leaves out in back with Pete and Kim. He and Claude said hello to each other and shook hands. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said to Joanna, ‘I was supposed to tell you Claude was coming to speak to you. Do you think you’ll be able to help him?’

She said, ‘I have so little free time—’

‘Do it in odd minutes,’ Claude said. ‘I don’t care if it takes a few weeks.’

‘Well if you don’t mind leaving the recorder that long …’

‘And you get a present in exchange,’ Claude said, unstrapping his briefcase on the table. ‘I leave an extra cartridge, you tape any little lullabies or things you like to sing to the kids, and I transcribe them onto a record. If you’re out for an evening the sitter can play it.’

‘Oh, that’d be nice,’ she said, and Walter said, ‘You could do “The Goodnight Song” and “Good Morning Starshine”.’

‘Anything you want,’ Claude said. ‘The more the merrier.’

‘I’d better get back outside,’ Walter said. ‘The fire’s still burning. See you, Claude.’

‘Right,’ Claude said.

Joanna gave Claude his tea, and he showed her how to load and use the tape recorder, a handsome one in a black leather case. He gave her eight yellow-boxed cartridges and a black loose-leaf binder.

‘My gosh, there’s a lot,’ she said, leafing through curled and mended pages typed in triple columns.

‘It goes quickly,’ Claude said. ‘You just say each word clearly in your regular voice and take a little stop before the next one.

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