YOUNG MAN FROM ELSEWHEN
By SYLVIA JACOBS
One thing the old man was sure
of—there were far fewer things in
heaven and earth than were dreamt
of in his philosophy—till today.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of If Science Fiction, March 1961.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
A redcap was pushing a wheelchair through the station, under a ceilingso lofty that the place seemed empty, though hundreds of people weremilling around, preparing to board the early trains. The old man inthe wheelchair had a blanket over his knees, in spite of July heat inLos Angeles. Beside him walked a smartly dressed middle-aged woman,slimmed by diet and with her steel-gray hair looking as if she'djust stepped out of a beauty parlor. She kept up a steady stream ofadmonitions.
"Now, Papa," she was saying, "don't forget to take your medicine atlunchtime. Keep your chair out of the aisle—people have to walkthere. And whatever you do, don't go to the club car for a drink—youknow it's bad for your arthritis. The doctor said not more than threecigars a day. And if Edna isn't at the station to meet you, just wait,do you hear? It's a long drive from her house and she may be late."
"Hell's fire!" the old man protested. "I was taking trains before youwere born! How my boy Will stands—"
He broke off to ogle a Mexican girl, a ripe sixteen, who was walking inthe same direction, ahead of them.
"Papa! Act your age!" his daughter-in-law said under her breath.
"Like they say, a woman's as old as she looks, but a man ain't old tillhe quits looking," he replied absently.
The redcap grinned. The little señorita, not knowing who was watchingher but quite sure someone was, paused to put a dime in a Coke machine.The wheelchair entourage passed her and the old man craned his neck,looking backward, determined not to miss anything. The girl sat down ona bench to drink her Coke. If I were only fifty years younger, the oldman thought, I'd buy a Coke, too, and sit down beside her....
"Papa!" his son's wife cried. "You'll fall out of your chair! Why doyou always have to embarrass me like this?" But the insistent voicecould not interrupt the old man's pleasant daydream of conquest. He hadturned off his hearing aid.
The redcap stopped alongside the third car of the San-Francisco-boundstreamliner and signaled another redcap who was unloading a baggagetruck. The other came over to help and two pairs of strong young armslifted the old man, wheelchair and all, smoothly onto the platform ofthe car.
His daughter-in-law did not board the train. She stood waving, callingafter the old man, "So long, Papa! Have a nice visit with Edna andremember what I told you!"
He waved back automatically, but he hadn't heard a word she said. Hedidn't turn his hearing aid back on until he had been wheeled insidethe car.
Most of the reclining seats were already filled. The redcap pushedthe wheelchair the full length of the aisle and parked it in a vacantspace beyond the last seat, across from the washroom. He turned itcrosswise, so it wouldn't roll when the train started moving, and withits occupant facing the window.
"Turn me around!" the old man commanded. "Like to see who I'm ridin'with. If I want to look out, I always got the opposite window."
The redcap complied, but the old man still wasn't satisfied. "Betterwheel me in the club car straight off," he decided.
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