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Fantasy Fan, v. 1, issue 8, April 1934

Page 122

122     THE FANTASY FAN, April, 1934

that will overwhelm me......how can it be?......it's impossible......how can it be?"
He repeated that dozens of times while he rumpled his hair and ground his teeth,
I mustered up courage and grabbed him by the shoulders. Next moment I was spinning backward and hit the wall with a thump. I fell down and stayed there, looking up at Ross with an expression that I sometimes wonder could be. I know my eyes became salty with tears of mental agony --  maybe it was blood that I sweated out that night.
Then I heard him again, head to one side, staggering like a drunken man: "The radio was only invented twenty-five years ago.....this was fifty thousand years ago......what did he say?......he said to his friend that this would probably be his last broadcast as the heat coils were running out......goodbye......he said......goodbye, and my friend......civilization is doomed......the Ice will cover all...... but I know something about geology, I tell you!......that was over fifty thousand years ago!......do you see what that means?"
He paused as if expecting an answer, but I knew--my chilled brain told me--that he wasn't talking to me, didn't know I was there. He was still arguing with himself.
"You see?......it means that I have received a message broadcast fifty thousand years ago just before the Ice came! ......that's what it means......do you hear me?"
Then he fell into a senseless jargon that I knew meant the coming of the end of his mind's fortitude. It would collapse soon.
"And then," came his voice to me, a bloodcurdling knife of a voice, "and then, how can you explain that I understood that voice?......tell me that......I never heard that language before......it was just a jumble at first......and then......and then......in a flash......I understood it......just as if I had lived there ......lived there fifty thousand years ago."
His voice became a wild shriek, a voice that a ghost might have: "Ah! Saviour! God! How can it be?...... how can it be?"
That was all. I sprang to my feet joyfully--as joyfully as I could after passing through that--and ran toward him. The light of madness had died out of his eyes. He had seen me and recognized me. His shoulders drooped as if he carried the weight of a world on them.
With a babble of sobs and broken cries I threw my arms around him and thanked the Lord he had been saved.
He gently disengaged me.
"O.K. Bob," he said weakly. "I'm over it now."
"Darn right you are!" I said more calmly, realizing I must show a braver front than I had. "And what's more, we're going to get out of here!"
I took him to the door of his uncle's house and left him there, satisfied that the crisis was over. Then I went back to the station and finished up my calls. How i had the courage and fortitude to do it, I don't know. Before the day shift came in, before I did a lot of explaining how Ross had been suddenly taken sick in the stomach and had to go home, I picked up a crumpled piece of paper from the floor, tore it into little bits, and threw the confetti in a waste paper basket.
I got the news when I went to my

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122 THE FANTASY FAN, April, 1934 that will overwhelm me......how can it be?......it's impossible......how can it be?" He repeated that dozens of times while he rumpled his hair and ground his teeth, I mustered up courage and grabbed him by the shoulders. Next moment I was spinning backward and hit the wall with a thump. I fell down and stayed there, looking up at Ross with an expression that I sometimes wonder could be. I know my eyes became salty with tears of mental agony -- maybe it was blood that I sweated out that night. Then I heard him again, head to one side, staggering like a drunken man: "The radio was only invented twenty-five years ago.....this was fifty thousand years ago......what did he say?......he said to his friend that this would probably be his last broadcast as the heat coils were running out......goodbye......he said......goodbye, and my friend......civilization is doomed......the Ice will cover all...... but I know something about geology, I tell you!......that was over fifty thousand years ago!......do you see what that means?" He paused as if expecting an answer, but I knew--my chilled brain told me--that he wasn't talking to me, didn't know I was there. He was still arguing with himself. "You see?......it means that I have received a message broadcast fifty thousand years ago just before the Ice came! ......that's what it means......do you hear me?" Then he fell into a senseless jargon that I knew meant the coming of the end of his mind's fortitude. It would collapse soon. "And then," came his voice to me, a bloodcurdling knife of a voice, "and then, how can you explain that I understood that voice?......tell me that......I never heard that language before......it was just a jumble at first......and then......and then......in a flash......I understood it......just as if I had lived there ......lived there fifty thousand years ago." His voice became a wild shriek, a voice that a ghost might have: "Ah! Saviour! God! How can it be?...... how can it be?" That was all. I sprang to my feet joyfully--as joyfully as I could after passing through that--and ran toward him. The light of madness had died out of his eyes. He had seen me and recognized me. His shoulders drooped as if he carried the weight of a world on them. With a babble of sobs and broken cries I threw my arms around him and thanked the Lord he had been saved. He gently disengaged me. "O.K. Bob," he said weakly. "I'm over it now." "Darn right you are!" I said more calmly, realizing I must show a braver front than I had. "And what's more, we're going to get out of here!" I took him to the door of his uncle's house and left him there, satisfied that the crisis was over. Then I went back to the station and finished up my calls. How i had the courage and fortitude to do it, I don't know. Before the day shift came in, before I did a lot of explaining how Ross had been suddenly taken sick in the stomach and had to go home, I picked up a crumpled piece of paper from the floor, tore it into little bits, and threw the confetti in a waste paper basket. I got the news when I went to my