The Essential John Wyndham: The Pulp Fiction Collection by John Wyndham & Christopher Broschell

Author:John Wyndham & Christopher Broschell [Wyndham, John & Broschell, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-08-23T00:00:00+00:00

How Do I Do? (1953)

Frances paused to look into the showcase fastened to the wall between the pastry cook’s and the hairdresser’s. It was not a novelty. Passing it a hundred times, she could not fail to be aware of it, and of the open door beside it, but until now it had never really impinged. There had been no reason for it to impinge. Hers was a future that seemed, in its main outlines at least, and insofar as any woman’s is, pretty well charted.

Nor did the carefully worded leaflets behind the glass refer to the future directly. They offered Character Delineation, Scientific Palmistry, Psychological Prognosis, Semasiological Estimates, and other feats just beyond the scope of the Witchcraft Act or the practical interest of the police, but the idea of the future somehow showed through. And, for the first time, Frances found herself interested; for it is not every day that a girl sends her ring back and looks out upon a suddenly futureless world.

And yet, of course, and unlikely as it seemed at the moment, a future of some kind must lie ahead of her…

She read about Mastery of one’s Fate, Development of one’s Personality, Guidance of one’s Potentialities, went through a number of testimonials from persons who had been greatly helped, valuably guided, spiritually strengthened, and generally rendered more capable of managing themselves by the sympathetic counsels of Senora Rosa.

It was the word “guidance” occurring several times that set up the most responsive echo. Frances did not exactly imagine that she could go to this perfect stranger and extract a plan for living a neatly readjusted life, but the world, since she had handed that small, registered package across the post office counter, had become a place for which she had no plans of her own, and she felt that an improved acquaintance with her potentialities might be an aid.

She turned. She glanced along the street both ways, with the air of noticing and approving the freshness of the early summer day. Then, having observed no one whom she knew, she edged into the doorway, and climbed the dusty stairs.

“Marriage, of course,” said Senora Rosa, with the slightest trace of a hiccup. “Marriage! That’s what they all want to know about; it’s all they do want to know about. Want to know what he looks like— ‘s if that mattered. Don’t want to know if he’ll beat ‘em, or leave ‘em, or murder ‘em. Jus’ what he looks like— so they’ll know where to throw the lash— the lasso.”

She took a drink from the glass beside her, and went on: “Same with babies. Not interested to know if they’ll turn out to be gangsters or film shtarsh. Jus’ want to know how many. No ‘riginality. No ‘imagination. Jus’ like a lot of sheep— ‘cept, of course, they want a ram each.” She hiccupped discreetly again.

Frances started to get up. “I think, perhaps—” she began.

“No. Sit down,” the Senora told her. While Frances hesitated, she repeated, not loudly

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