Henry Farrell

“ For a brief instant her eyes flicked in Marc's direction and her lips silently formed the word "thanks."
Marc understood. It was only through his concentration that she had survived. As long as he was aware of her and "wished" her into being, she was indestructible. Her life could be threatened only when his was.
"Lord," Chadwick breathed. "The little waif's all right!"
"Chad!" Agatha cried, turning to him. "Do you realize what this means? We ... we ... I almost can't say it, it's so wonderful ... we can be immortal! All we have to do is get the formula. No one will be able to kill us! ”

“ Marc returned. "They'll be down here in a moment." He reached past her and opened the car door. "Crawl out," he instructed. "I'll follow. We can crawl along under the cars."
Like a couple of bemused slugs, they scooted out of the car, under the sedan of the abused bumper and started on a scenic tour of gravel and axles. They had removed themselves from the convertible by only five cars when the sound of flat feet scraping over gravel sullied the quiet afternoon air. Toffee, leading the way, peered fearfully from beneath the fender of their current refuge. ”

“ Agatha turned to her with a slow smile. "Quite right," she said. "Tea and bullets will be served directly. And remember, should we be stopped for any reason along the way, you and your little friend will act as our children. You'll call Chadwick daddy and me mummy." She pointed to Toffee. "You're Gwendolyn and the boy is Horace. Mr. Culpepper is your uncle Ben. Understand?"
"Oh, yes," Toffee said brightly. "We're just one big stuffy family. Only if mummy drops her gun, Gwendolyn is going to kick the stuffing out of her, and don't you forget it, sister." ”

“ For the enfeebled couple it was a long, tortuous climb to the fourth floor and to Marc's office. When they finally made it, they both collapsed into chairs and regarded each other bleakly.
"This is worse than being children," Toffee wheezed. "I could die."
"You may," Marc said morosely. "We've got one foot in the grave already. Anyway," he went on, "Agatha and Chadwick are taken care of."
"It hardly seems worth it," Toffee said, "when things turn out this way. No matter what punishment they get, it'll never be as bad as what's happened to us." ”

“ His eyes, like Agatha's and Chadwick's, were fastened on Marc and Toffee. Suddenly, the two erstwhile youngsters had begun to stretch upward like a pair of extending telescopes. They were growing and aging with the speed of lightning, it seemed. In a matter of seconds Marc became once again a tall, serious-eyed businessman ... one that had unaccountably rolled up his trousers to go wading. At his side Toffee was again a scantily clad redhead ... a fine figure of a girl with a fine figure. The effect was impressive to say the least. The Harpers gasped in unison. ”

“ Chadwick said, stroking her cheek affectionately with the nose of his gun. "In business you can't always associate with the best. It's all part of the game, you know."
"Some game," Toffee said sourly. "I could stage a better crime wave with a water pistol."
Agatha swung on Toffee, eyes blazing. "You soiled little hoyden!" she fumed. "You should be honored. Chadwick and I were the most celebrated thieves in Europe before the war. We robbed kings, I'll have you know. Our names were on aristocratic lips all through the continent." ”

“ Toffee, probably for the first time in her life, was embarrassed.
"Can't we do something?" she asked her companion. "Can't we go somewhere? If this sort of thing goes on much longer I'll be picked up by a home for wayward mothers or something."
Marc glanced down the street. Then he pointed. "Over there," he said. His finger indicated a public library. "There should be quiet and privacy in there." He turned to the babies. "Now listen here, you two, either you be quiet and behave yourselves or you won't get a drop. Understand?"
Agatha and Chadwick were instantly subdued. ”

“ At the outset Toffee toppled from her perch, hurtled downward, and caught one of the cops around the neck just in time to prevent a crashing arrival at the floor. From there on, it was just one grand, piggy-back ride for the redhead. For the cop it was a matter of an extra burden and hanging on for dear life. Books, row upon row of them, flashed by in a screaming blur. They were heading for a dead end with the speed of a bullet. ”

“ My word, the women! There isn't a woman alive who wouldn't pauperize her husband and family for a thing like Fixage. They'd be young and beautiful forever!"
"Or young and ugly," Marc murmured. With an air of finality he gripped the edge of his desk and boosted himself to his feet. "And besides, Mr. Culpepper, this agency is not interested in ventures of this sort. Frankly, I don't see why you came to me at all. When you've a proven product, fully backed and on the market, I will be happy to do business with you. But not until. It's my job to sell things to the public, not the manufacturers." ”

“ The labored progress of the strange party wending its way to the fourth floor was accompanied by a fruity assortment of stumblings, curses and giggles. When they finally arrived at the offices of the Pillsworth Advertising Agency, Marc handed his keys to Mr. Culpepper under the false impression that the little man could better negotiate the keyhole. To the befogged scientist, however, the lock was a writhing, squirming thing that constantly and with utter perverseness, avoided his grasp. The struggle became a very personal thing with the little man. ”

“ Culpepper hopped out of the truck, teetered precariously on one foot for a moment, and sprawled out on the ground. Propping his head up on one elbow, he gazed up at Agatha, a new boldness in his eye. He winked debonairly.
"Hi, yuh, toots," he gurgled.
Agatha appeared to have bitten into a sour apple. "Ugh!" she said. "How depraved!" ”

“ Forgetting her gun, Agatha clasped her hands together. "Oh, what a triumph!" she exclaimed. "The Marquis was simply enthralled. He said it was the most exquisite torture he'd ever experienced."
"Is everybody nuts in Europe?" Toffee asked. "Or just your particular crowd?"
No one answered her.
"What a shame," Chadwick said, "to waste such divine methods on a commoner." He removed a pair of silver, leather-encased pliers from his jacket pocket and held them out proudly. He turned to Mr. Culpepper. A look of injury spread over his handsome features. ”

“ We love the stuff too much to waste it on them."
In demonstration, he grabbed the bottle that had been Chadwick's and pressed it eagerly to his mouth, a fanatical gleam in his eye.
"Oh, really," Mr. Culpepper cried. "I really don't think...."
"You see," Toffee said to the face. "Can't leave the stuff alone. Those babies haven't got a look-in as far as liquor is concerned. We wouldn't give them a drop if they were dying of thirst."
Doubt came into the face as Marc withdrew the bottle from his lips with a loud smacking noise and grandly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ”

“ Once aloft Toffee lost no time in using the contrivance to its utmost capacity. Rollers whirred and Toffee and the ladder sped forward to the attack, toward a section that was notable for the number of truly weighty volumes it housed. Toffee seized up the first of these volumes and paused momentarily to read its title.
"War and Peace," she read. "That ought to put them to sleep."
Never was literature so forced upon anyone as it was on the hapless policemen in the awful moments that followed. ”

“ The Harpers came to life in the same moment and reacted with their customary single-mindedness. Two pairs of hands shot into the air, and as a result the bottle crashed to the top of the desk, pills rolling in all directions. The desk and portions of the floor around the desk seemed to have been the scene of a recent snowstorm.
"I'll keep them covered," Toffee told Marc. "You get the police."
"The police?" Marc said. "How will we explain who they are? With their new faces, I mean. For that matter, how will we explain who we are? The cops are looking for us, too, you know." ”

“ From outside there was the sound of approaching footsteps. They moved to the rear of the truck and suddenly the door handles began to rattle. Then they stopped, and a voice called out, "Not in here. All locked up." The footsteps moved away, into the distance.
"Anyway," Toffee said, getting back to the matter of the pinchings, "you keep your offensive little paws to yourself from now on or I'll snap them off."
"You back on that?" Marc asked wearily. "Even in childhood you're dirty-minded, aren't you? One would think that.... Ow! Of all the spiteful things to do!" ”

“ He wagged a finger. "Shame," he said. He reached inside and lifted Toffee out.
Made forgetful of her transformation by her recent libations, Toffee twined her arms around Chadwick's neck.
"Hello, handsome," she cooed throatily.
"Put her down," Agatha snapped. "There's something not quite right about that child. I don't like the funny way she's looking at you. I won't stand for it."
Apparently Chadwick, too, had noticed something a bit unusual about the infant in his arms, but was not entirely displeased. He smiled confusedly. "She's only a youngster," he said. ”

“ Marc said, "what age I'll be when I get back."
"Oh, you'll be back to normal, I'm sure," Toffee said. "When you stop to think about it, it should work out just as Mr. Culpepper said."
"Then I'll probably be dragged off by the cops the minute I show my face."
"Oh, I don't think so. No one really ever got a very good look at you. After the cops showed up, we were in the shadows most of the time and moving too fast. Besides they'll be looking for a couple with children."
Marc shrugged. "Maybe you're right." He sighed and stretched out on the grass at Toffee's side. ”

“ Agatha wondered about this but didn't discover the reason for it until the truck reached its destination and pulled to a stop in the parking lot behind Marc's office building. When she unlocked the doors and reopened them, Marc, Toffee and Mr. Culpepper peered out at her owlishly, swaying together in silent harmony.
"Good ol' Aggie," Marc giggled, dropping his appropriated bottle shatteringly at the woman's feet. "Long may she rave."
"Well, I'll be!" Agatha murmured. "They're drunk as skunks, the lot of them."
"Eh?" Chadwick inquired, moving to her side. "Who's drunk?" ”

“ Marc cried. "What about the cops? They're still out there."
"Right now," Toffee said positively, "there is nothing I would love better than a big, tough cop. I'm going to fling myself on the very first one I see and never let go. I'm going to love that ugly cop like a mother."
She threw the door open, and the compartment flooded with light. She was just about to jump to the ground when she glanced quickly back over her shoulder and stopped.
"Look!" she cried, pointing back into the compartment. "It's human!" ”

“ Agatha piped. "They're going to work us out a whiskey formula."
"I don't care what they work out," Chadwick replied, rolling unhappily over onto his fat little stomach. "I want some clothes. I'm cold and embarrassed."
"See if you can find something for them to wear," Marc said, turning to Toffee. "Try the model's dressing rooms in the photographer's studio; there may be something there." He glanced briefly at Toffee's faintly obscured figure. "And while you're about it," he added, "you might pick up something for yourself." ”

“ Toffee glanced quickly at Marc, then back at the cops. "Take your hands off me, young man," she cried indignantly. "Have you no respect for old age?"
"Gee, sorry, mother," the policeman said apologetically. "We thought you was someone else. Did you see a young couple with some babies runnin' down here?"
Marc shook his head. "Not a soul," he said. ”

“ Marc said, looking away.
"You'll be surprised how disgusting I can really be," Toffee wailed, "if you don't do something about this."
"What can I do?" Marc asked helplessly. "After all the pills were Culpepper's idea, not mine. He's the only one that can do anything about it."
"Get him!" Toffee cried. "Get him! Ring him, call him, wire him, cable him! Only get him!" Her cherubic face began to pucker, her large eyes beginning to cloud. "Wouldn't you know that I'd have to suffer too, just because you were simple-minded enough to take a couple of pills! Wouldn't you know? Look at me! ... ”

“ Why don't you just look around and take what you want? I won't look. You just take it and go away. Just tip-toe out and don't slam the door. That's all I ask. The liquor is on the house."
After the selection of two large, rather vaporish-looking bottles, the little company returned to the sidewalk. The babies, however, were becoming increasingly troublesome in their eagerness to be at the liquor, which was in Marc's custody for the time being. Their ill-tempered cries, however, were almost entirely directed at Toffee. People began to stop in the streets to watch and to listen. ”

“ Marc and Mr. Culpepper followed. Together, they all retreated to the end of the section and formed a sort of huddle. Marc produced the bottles from beneath his coat.
"How are we going to measure it?" Toffee asked. "We have to give them ten jiggers exactly."
"Do I have to think of everything?" Agatha inquired scornfully. Her small hand emerged from her velvet wrappings, clutching a jigger glass. "It was lying around loose on the counter," she explained.
"As in womanhood," Toffee said philosophically, "so, too, in infancy is she a crook." ”