Part 3

With a feeling of triumph that Ginny had capitulated so rapidly and so easily, he completed the bakery's deposits, closed his window and made his way back to the office and the telephone. Keeping his tone distant but nonetheless magnanimous, he said hello.

"Lester!" Ginny's voice came tartly over the wire, "Who are all those people?"

This was not precisely the approach Lester had anticipated. For a moment he was taken aback.

"What people?" he asked finally.

"You know very well what people! All those people at home. Who are they, Lester?"

Lester felt a chill crawl up his spine. "At home?" he said. "What home?"

"It's no use playing dumb," Ginny snapped. "At our home."

"But aren't you there?" Lester asked. "I don't understand."

"Of course I'm not!" Ginny said hotly. "You know I'm not. I left yesterday when you went out to get A.P. the financial news. Now, stop hedging and...."

"But I didn't get the financial news," Lester said. "I went to a hotel last night."

"_What!_"

"Where are you?"

"I'm at mother's! Lester, you mean you haven't been home all night?"

"No. Haven't you?"

"I told you. I'm at mother's! Oh, Lester! who are all those people?"

"What people? Ginny, tell me what you're talking about!"

"We've got to get over there right away!" Ginny said shrilly. "I called the house just a little while ago--mother insisted, because of the baby--and this woman with a terribly sexy voice answered. She wanted to know with whom I wished to speak, and I could hear a lot of people talking--all sorts of people! Oh, Lester!"

"Oh, Lord!" Lester said. "I'll get over there right away. It might be the police!"

"They'll arrest us for child neglect, and everyone will know about it! Come by mother's and pick me up, Lester! Hurry!"

"Do I have to face your mother at a time like this?"

"I'll wait for you outside--on the sidewalk! Hurry, Lester, please!"

"All right!" Lester said frantically and hung up.

* * * * *

True to her word, Ginny, her overnight case in her hand, was waiting on the sidewalk when Lester pulled up at the curb. But so was her mother. Mrs. Feeney was a thin-nosed woman with high cheek bones and a tongue as swift and venomous as an adder's. For the moment, her naturally sallow complexion had become quite ruddy. Lester, pulling up the brake, closed his eyes briefly to steel himself. Mrs. Feeney jutted her head through the window.

"Hello, Mrs. Feeney," Lester said, opening his eyes reluctantly.

"Lester Holmes!" Mrs. Feeney screeched. "You ought to be horse whipped! Only a no good skunk like you would even think of deserting his wife and child like this! Only a low-down rat...."

"Mother!" Ginny cried, shoving Mrs. Feeney desperately back and pulling the door open. "Please, mother! There isn't time to bawl Lester out--not now!"

"I'm going to have my say!" Mrs. Feeney snarled determinedly. "I don't care!"

"Write me a letter!" Lester said, taking Ginny's arm and drawing her into the seat. "Just keep it clean enough to go through the mails!"

"Why you...." Mrs. Feeney yelped, clawing at the door. "You--viper! Come back here!"

But Lester had already slammed the door and pressed down on the gas. The coupe shot ahead down the street.

"Oh, Lester!" Ginny wailed, putting her case down on the floor. "Who would all those people _be_?"

"I don't know," Lester said worriedly. "Whoever they are, I'll bet Mrs. Hilliard had something to do with it. I only hope it's not the authorities!"

* * * * *

The street and the drive were filled with cars when they arrived, and they were forced to park around on the other side of the block. Lester helped Ginny out of the car and together they hurried back to the house.

The lawn was practically covered with sober-looking gentlemen who stood about in knots, conversing in subdued voices. A small line had formed at the front door. Lester led the way through the crowd and up the steps to the door. He found himself faced by a slick-haired young man who headed the line.

"Not so fast there, pal," the young man said. "You've got to wait your turn around here. I'm next."

Ginny looked at the young man incredulously. "Next for what?" she asked.

"I'm from the Wee-wheat Cereal Company," the young man said. "I got a tip on this wonder brat, and the boss sent me over to get an endorsement and a picture."

Lester cast him a swift, unfriendly glance and turned aggressively to the door. He grasped the knob and shoved it open, drawing Ginny inside after him. They were only a step inside the living room, however, before they were greeted by a dark, sleek woman in a tailored black suit and jeweled glasses. She observed them with cool grey eyes, and she was carrying a pad and pencil.

"Yes?" she enquired in a tone that brooked no nonsense.

"What are all these people doing here?" Lester demanded angrily. "Who are they?"

The woman's gaze moved unconcernedly to the opening in the door and the men standing outside on the lawn. "Some of them," she announced, "are financiers and corporation lawyers, I believe. Others are advertising men and reporters. There are some scientists, too, and one minister." She smiled noncommittally. "If you would like to place your name on the list I can fit you in three days from now. That will be Friday afternoon at precisely two twenty-three. If you'll just state your name and the nature of your business...."

"The nature of my business!" Lester said. "What's going on here?"

"Matters of considerable importance," the woman said with sudden severity. "Now, if you've something you wish to take up with A.P...."

"I certainly have!" Lester said. "I have a lot of things to take up with A.P. I'm his father!" He turned to Ginny. "Close the door."

"Yes," Ginny said. She closed the door quickly and turned back. "And I'm A.P.'s mother."

"Oh," the woman said. For a moment she seemed uncertain as to just which attitude in her repertoire to assume. She made a small motion with her hand. "If you'll just wait here, I'll see if I can get you in."

"_You_ wait here!" Lester said with sudden heat. "I'll get myself in. You just bet your garters I will!"

"Yes!" Ginny said and followed after Lester as he turned toward the hallway.

Crossing the room, they passed a young girl in a starched white blouse, sitting at the dining table busily typing names and addresses on a large stack of envelopes. She glanced up at them with no change of expression and went on working.

"Lester," Ginny said, touching Lester's sleeve, "I just want you to know that I'm not mad any more. Not at you."

"Me either," Lester said hastily and forged ahead.

At the door to the hallway, they were forced to give way to a lush and shapely blonde with very red lips. The girl wore a tight nurse's uniform and carried a bottle in her hand. She bustled past them and disappeared into the kitchen. They turned toward the nursery from which was coming the sound of many voices, underscored with a curious clicking noise.

* * * * *

Arriving at the nursery they stopped short at the threshold. The room was fairly glutted with people, all talking and moving about at the same time. In the far corner was a ticker tape machine, which accounted for the frenetic clicking sound. In the center of all this activity, A.P. looked on from his crib with an expression of enormous satisfaction. Somewhere a telephone rang and, except for the clicking of the machine, the room fell magically silent. A young man with thick-rimmed spectacles produced the phone from the floor, answered it, then brought it forward to A.P.'s crib.

"For you, A.P.," he said briskly. "Brandish out on the Coast."

A.P. nodded sagely and gave his attention to the phone. He listened briefly, pursing his lips.

"Now, just a minute there, Hank," he broke in, "you should be the last one to question my judgment after this morning. Central Mines paid off, didn't they? You're darned right they did, and handsomely, too. Now, I'm telling you, and I'm not going to repeat myself--put your gains on Spartan Steel. And remember, I'm in for twenty per cent for the tip. That's right. Goodbye."

He nodded to the young man who promptly removed the phone from his ear and took it away. At the doorway, Lester stepped resolutely into the room.

"Now, just a second!" he said loudly. "What do all you people think you're doing in my house?"

All eyes swiveled in his direction. A.P. looked around and frowned slightly, as might an ancient warrior who had discovered that he had been riveted into his armor with a gnat.

"Oh, so you're back," he said mildly.

"How did all these people get in here?" Lester demanded.

"Well," A.P. said without rancor, "when I discovered I'd been abandoned, I began to yell and, one by one, they began to show up."

"But who are they?" Ginny asked weakly.

"My staff," A.P. said grandly. "Variously--there's no need for names--they are my private secretary, my social secretary, my publicist, my business manager, my biographer, my Washington representative, my personal news compiler and my lawyer. You no doubt ran into my receptionist, my typist, my clerk and my dietician on your way in."

"We missed your clerk," Lester said shortly. "Just what do you and your staff think you're up to?"

"It's not what we think we're up to," A.P. said smoothly, "it's what we _are_ up to. Already, since just this morning, I have become the financial advisor to the top ten industrialists in the nation, and the President. By evening, I expect I will also be the world's foremost news analyst, financier and political manipulator. I am even considering an offer to appear in motion pictures, though I'm inclined to regard any venture in the entertainment field as a trifle facetious for someone who expects to take over the management of the nation--and perhaps even the world."

"A dictator!" Ginny cried thinly. "He's turned into a dictator!"

"Oh, not quite yet," A.P. said. "That takes a little time--a few weeks, anyway."

"No!" Lester gasped.

"No?" A.P. enquired. "What do you mean, no?"

"You can't do this," Lester said. "It isn't right. I won't be the father of a dictator."

* * * * *

A.P. sighed patiently. "I imagined you'd take some such prosaic attitude," he murmured. "However, you'll get used to it in time. Besides, I might point out that you're in no position to object. I can get you on a child abandonment charge any time I want to." He smiled significantly. "And now that you're here, it's just as well. I need a little ready security to balance out a deal I'm putting through. I'd be much obliged if you'd just sign over a deed to me for the house and the car. It won't come to much, I know, but it'll see me through."

"What!" Lester cried.

"Of course you'll have to sign them into the name of my business manager since I'm under age," A.P. explained, "but it will all be in good order."

"Now, look here, you!" Lester said. "Your mother and I have scrimped and saved for these things, and...."

"Oh, don't worry," A.P. broke in. "You'll get yours. In fact I mean to retire you and mother within the next few days with a very tidy little allowance. I'm picking up a farm in Connecticut on a foreclosure, and you and mother can move up there--rent free--where you won't worry so much. So you see...."

The young man with the glasses stepped forward, a legal document extended in his hand.

Lester backed away. "I won't do it!" he said. "I won't sign anything!"

A shocked silence fell over the room. It was as though a comrade had stepped up to Malenkov and politely explained that he refused to share his potato crop with the proletariat. A.P. narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

"In that case," he said slowly, "I suppose I will have to report you to the authorities for child neglect. You realize, of course, there will be unprecedented publicity. By noon tomorrow I expect to have world-wide coverage. You will be social lepers wherever you go."

"Oh dear!" Ginny whimpered. "What'll we do, Lester?"

"You have exactly thirty seconds to make up your mind," A.P. said. "I have to get on with business."

* * * * *

At this tense moment, the uniformed blonde entered the room with a fresh bottle in her hand. She proceeded to the crib and leaned down to A.P.

"Your new formula, sir," she said throatily.

Up to this point, Ginny had been a mere observer, looking on with dazed bewilderment. Now, however, at the sight of the sultry blonde, a glint that looked like militant and usurped maternalism flared in her eyes; something deep and primitive came swiftly to the surface. With a small, angry cry she strode forward and snatched the bottle from the blonde's hand.

"At least I can feed my own baby!" she cried, "even if he is a monster!" Leaning down to the crib, she picked A.P. up and settled him into the crook of her arm. "This is a lot of nonsense! All of it!"

"Put me down!" A.P. commanded with displaced dignity. "Let go of me!"

The blonde bristled with professional outrage. "Give me that child!" she snapped. She took hold of A.P.'s arm. "I'm being paid a thousand dollars a month to administer his feedings, and I'm going to earn my money!"

"You're overpaid!" Ginny said hotly, hugging A.P. to herself. "A thousand dollars to feed a baby!"

"Put me down!" A.P. wheezed as the nurse made another grab for him. "Both of you!"

The telephone rang sharply, and the young man ran to it.

"You be quiet!" Ginny told A.P. sternly. "Don't talk back to your mother!"

"That's right!" Lester said, striding forward. "Or your father, either!"

"I'll report you!" A.P. yelled. "I'll tell the authorities!"

The nurse pulled at A.P. violently. "Give him to me!" she cried.

"Put me down this instant!" A.P. insisted. "I demand it!"

Lester shook a finger under the nurse's nose. "You let go of him!" he thundered. He took hold of A.P.'s chubby leg. "He's ours!"

The young man darted forward frantically with the phone. "It's Evans of Tantamount Publications!" he yelled above the uproar. He grasped A.P.'s head and jammed it next to the receiver. "He's ready to close the deal!"

"Put me down!" A.P. shrilled into the phone. "Let go of me, all of you!"

"Give him back!" Ginny hissed at the nurse. "You get out of my house!"

"He's my responsibility, I guess," the nurse shot back, pulling harder. "I'm getting paid for this!"

"Not to rip my leg off, you're not!" A.P. screamed.

"Evans wants an answer, A.P.!" The young man hollered. "Say something!"

* * * * *

While this murky atmosphere seethed and thickened inside the nursery, the sun shone brightly outside, and the distant heavens were blue. They were blue, that is, except to a single and very remote blemish. In the timeless and vapored regions of Heaven's own dispatching department there lay a distinct cloudiness that emanated mainly from the dismayed faces of those two enterprising and well-intentioned angels, Mac and Haywood.

"Good grief, Haywood!" Mac gasped, gazing down hauntedly through the mists of time, "they're yankin' the little bugger apart! It's disgraceful!"

"Yes, I know," Haywood said worriedly. "The whole affair is disgraceful. I shudder to think what will happen to us when it comes to light in the higher echelons."

"We only wanted to do something nice," Mac said sadly. "How was we to know the kid was going to be a stinkin' genius?"

"The unknown element," Haywood sighed heavily. "The Higher Source. Even angels can be wrong when they take authority into their own hands."

"Who'd have thought a little baby could turn out to be such a rat?"

"He's not a rat," Haywood said. "It's just that too much knowledge was given to him all at once and he didn't know how to use it properly. It only proves again that humans can only learn through experience. We've made a tragic mistake, Mac."

"And it's getting tragic-er by the minute," Mac said hollowly. "If that kid gets hold of the world.... What'll they do to us, Haywood?"

"I hesitate to even put it into words," Haywood murmured.

"The way that kid's organized," Mac said, "he's a cinch to be a world-wide scandal by sunset. Ain't there nothing we can do to stop it?"

"I've been trying to think of something," Haywood said.

Mac looked at him hopefully. "Give it everything you've got, Haywood," he said. "You've got the brains."

Slowly, Haywood began to drum his fingers on a nearby cloud bank....

* * * * *

At the focal point of this heavenly concern, A.P. finally managed to raise his voice above the angry din that raged about him. His small voice piped like a penny whistle.

"Stop clutching at me!" he shrieked. "My diaper is coming loose!"

The clutching however, did not stop, nor did the yanking, hauling, and pulling. Slowly, the diaper slithered loose from A.P.'s pudgy mid-section and dropped to the floor. The future dictator of the world blushed furiously.

"Stop!" he yelled. "For heaven's sake!"

After a moment, the fact that they had literally snatched the poor infant naked finally penetrated the minds of the struggling group. There was a sudden shame-faced silence.

"Well!" A.P. said indignantly, "the least you could do is turn me over. Now, unhand me, the lot of you, before I really lose my temper!"

Under this threat, all concerned acted almost as though under a hypnotic command. Simultaneously, everyone withdrew their support. All hands, so to speak, returned from active combat. The obvious, though unforeseen, result followed swiftly and shockingly; A.P. dropped to the floor, meeting its polished surface with the back of his head and a dull, ominous thud.

There was a sudden communal gasp, then horrified silence. Ginny was the first to recover her voice.

"He's dropped!" she said in a ghastly whisper. "On his head!"

"He told us to let go of him," the nurse said.

"He didn't mean all of us," a distinguished grey-haired gentleman said. "I should have realized it."

"It was as though my hand was taken away," Lester said wonderingly.

Ginny stooped down and took A.P. gently in her arms. As she straightened, the small form stirred and opened his eyes.

"He's all right, isn't he?" a voice asked hopefully.

Slowly, A.P.'s head lolled heavily to the side. In his eyes there was a totally new expression, or, rather, a new lack of expression. The young man with the glasses held the telephone forward.

"Evans is still waiting for an answer, A.P.," he said.

A.P.'s gaze seemed to penetrate the telephone and go beyond it. His lips parted with a slack toothlessness that had not before been apparent. Suddenly he began to cry, and his voice raised in a thin, distinctly babyish howl.

"Oh, no!" the young man whispered, and the telephone slowly slipped from his hand.

* * * * *

Six years later, in another house and another suburb, where there was no Mrs. Hilliard next door and their child was known merely as 'little Freddie Holmes,' Lester and Ginny lived in quiet obscurity. If there were those in the world who remembered the formidable A.P. they never mentioned it publicly, presumably loathe to admit that they had ever placed themselves at the command of a mere infant. Now, shifting uneasily in his chair, Lester looked up worriedly as Ginny returned from the hallway. He watched as she moved toward him and placed a hand gently on his shoulder.

"It's all right," Ginny said. "He's only listening to the music on the radio."

"That's good," Lester sighed. "He can't learn much from that."

"We're both far too edgy about Freddie, dear," Ginny said. "After all, he really hasn't shown any signs of dominating--not really since the beginning."

"I know," Lester said, "but what about this?" He held up the offending class paper. "I still think this tendency to get 'excellents' is dangerous."

"I know, dear," Ginny said, "but the doctors all said he was perfectly normal for a child of his intelligence." She patted his shoulder consolingly. "He's just bright, that's all, and we mustn't worry about it so much."

Lester nodded wearily. "I suppose not," he said. With a sigh, he dropped the paper to the floor.

Outside, in the dark and distant heavens, ever so faintly, the sigh was echoed in duplicate.