Free Time Out of Joint by Philip K. Dick Page B

psyche. Freud showed how neurotic people do that all the time."
    "Just tell me, will you," he said, "how Ragle is feeling these days. I don’t care what you’ve been up to."
    That did the trick.
    "Look," Junie said, in a thin, deranged voice that carried throughout the house. "What do you want me to do, say I’ve been having an affair with Ragle, is that it? All day long I’ve been sitting here thinking; you know what about?"
    "No," he said.
    "I possibly might leave you, Bill. Ragle and I may go somewhere together."
    "Just the two of you? Or along with the Little Green Man?"
    "I suppose that’s a slur on Ragle’s earning capacity. You want to insinuate that he can’t support both himself and I."
    "The hell with it," Bill Black said, and went into the other room, by himself.
    Instantly Junie materialized in front of him. "You really have contempt because I don’t have your educational background," she said. Her face, stained with tears, seemed to blur and swell. She did not look so charming, now.
    Before he could phrase an answer, the door chimes sounded.
    "The door," he said.
    Junie stared at him and then she turned and left the room. He heard her open the front door and then he heard her voice, brisk and only partially under control, and another woman’s voice.
    Curiosity made him tag along after her.
    On the porch stood a large, timid-looking, middle-aged woman in a cloth coat. The woman carried a clipboard, a leather binder, and on her arm was an armband with an insigne. The woman droned on to Junie in a monotone, and at the same time she fumbled in the binder.
    Junie turned her head. "Civil Defense," she said.
    Seeing that she was too upset to talk, Black stepped up to the door and took her place. "What’s this?" he said.
    The timidity on the middle-aged woman’s face increased ; she cleared her throat and in a low voice said, "I’m sorry to bother you during the dinner hour, but I’m a neighbor of yours, I live down the street, and I’m conducting a door-to-door campaign for CD, Civil Defense. We’re badly in need of daytime volunteers, and we wondered if there might be anyone at home at your house during the day who could volunteer an hour or so during the week of his or her time...."
    Black said, "I don’t think so. My wife’s home, but she has other commitments."
    "I see," the middle-aged woman said. She recorded a few notes on a pad, and then smiled at him humbly. Evidently she took no for an answer the first time around. "Thank you anyhow," she said. Lingering, clearly not knowing how to make her exit, she said, "My name is Mrs. Keitelbein, Kay Keitelbein. I live in the house on the corner. The two-story older house."
    "Yes," he said, closing the door slightly.
    Returning, this time with a handkerchief to hold against her cheek, Junie said in a wavering voice, "Maybe the people next door can volunteer. He’s home during the day. Mr. Gumm. Ragle Gumm."
    "Thank you, Mrs.—" the woman said, with gratitude.
    "Black," Bill Black said. "Good night, Mrs. Keitelbein." He shut the door and switched on the porch light.
    "All day," Junie said. "Siding salesmen, brush salesmen, home reducing systems." She gazed at him bleakly, making first one shape and then another from her handkerchief.
    "I’m sorry we quarreled," he said. But he still had not gotten any dope out of her. The ins and outs of residential daytime intrigues ... wives were worse than politicians.
    "I’ll go look at the beef pies," Junie said. She went off in the direction of the kitchen.
    Hands in his pockets he trailed after her, still determined to pick up what information he could.
    Stepping from the sidewalk onto the path of the next house, Kay Keitelbein felt her way to the porch and rang the bell.
    The door opened and a plump, good-natured man in a white shirt and dark, unpressed slacks greeted her.
    She said, "Are... you Mr. Gumm?"
    "No," he said. "I’m Victor Nielson. Ragle is here, though. Come on inside." He held the door open for