The Avram Davidson Science Fiction & Fantasy by Avram Davidson

Author:Avram Davidson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: science fiction, fantasy, slipstream, short stories, classic
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2016-03-24T16:00:00+00:00

MR. STILWELL’S STAGE

Originally published in The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, September 1957.

This happened in the spring of 1940, in New York. The Depression was behind, the War (for us, at least) had not yet come. The violets were out, up at N.Y.U., and the bedding was being aired at windows down at Orchard Street—both sure signs of spring. The Wilkie boom was getting under way, and so was the No Foreign War Committee; the British Consulate was picketed by party-liners who bore placards reading THE YANKS ARE NOT COMING, and LET GOD SAVE THE KING.

In the morning Edward Bunsen of the Inventors’ Enterprise Company had dealt with correspondence concerning some plans to be submitted to the Patent Office. In the evening he was due to meet one of the Company’s chief backers at that gentleman’s home to discuss Money. As a rule Bunsen—on behalf of I.E.C.’s investors—did not see people who came with inventions unless they had some sort of reference. Crackpots could take up all his time if he would let them, and then they were apt to make nuisances of themselves for long after; hanging around the office, telephoning, writing threatening letters, sometimes even instituting lawsuits. None of them had ever won, of course, because none of them had ever had a case—I.E.C. didn’t operate on those lines—but it took up time and it used up money.

Still, you never knew: once the receptionist had turned away a wild and haggard man who had something in an old coffee can which he said would revolutionize the manufacture of saddle soap. He had gone, muttering and gesticulating, to another company—the receptionist there was A Sportsman’s Daughter, and she got him a hearing, and his gunk was put on the market, and it did revolutionize the manufacture of saddle soap.

Those things could happen, they were among the hazards of the chase, but I.E.C. felt it was worth it. Their receptionists were well-trained.

Just after Bunsen came back from lunch (he had his own entrance and did not have to pass through the front office—he had his own phone, too, chiefly because of the former Mrs. Bunsen, who remained on good terms and had thought nothing of asking the switchboard girl if she knew if abortions were really legal in Cuba? and similar questions, indicative of her big heart and little sense) he flicked a switch on the office intercom box and was about to call his secretary when he heard the tinkle of music and the sound of happy laughter.

Bunsen was surprised rather than annoyed; it was spring, but this had never happened any other spring, nor anything like it. He went out to the front office, not to make a fuss, but just to see what was up.

All of them, every one of them, was crowded around something on the receptionist’s desk. He was tall enough to look over their heads. He saw a sort of box, a miniature stage complete with curtains, and a dog who was dancing on it to the music of what sounded like an old-fashioned music box.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.