Free Tornado Pratt by Paul Ableman Page B

particular aspect of his character. Then, glancing at Nat, who’d be reading most likely, we’d elaborate our original gag with remarks like:
    “Well, when I’m junior senator for Illinois—”
    Or, from Harvey:
    “It’s been plausibly suggested that a truly great man is not onewho gets things done but one who can find people to get things done. So, never be afraid to delegate, Tomado.”
    We were continually hinting at some great enterprise, sipping whisky and laughing till our balls shook. Finally, Nat caught on and asked:
    “Just what are you two hatching?”
    “Hatching?” grinned Harvey, winking at me. “Surely, he’s told you, my dear?”
    “Told me what?”
    “Why we’ve decided that Tornado is to rule the world.”
    “Oh, he never bores me with trifles.”
    “We’re quite serious. The world has been misgoverned for thousands of years. If the runes were deciphered we’d probably find it had been misgoverned for tens of thousands of years. Well, we’ve decided it’s time for a change, haven’t we, Tornado?”
    We kept it up for some time, Horace, piloting me through imaginary campaigns and coups d’état, ecstatic mobs and assassins’ bullets, conventions and assemblies until, the prize within our grasp, we bitched the whole thing up by exploding with laughter.
    And yet at the time, Horace, and ever since to this waning day here at Timesend, I wasn’t sure if we were serious or not. Perhaps all that was missing was one jab of daring and right now the world would be mourning the impending loss of its first wise ruler.
P RESIDENT P RATT D IES W ITHOUT I SSUE
    The Lister kid had a pony and, although the Lister kid was only about eight, he could gallop that little horse. All afternoon, I’d been fooling around with the Lister kid. We’d swum in the creek and we’d shot us a few squirrels in the woods and then we’d finished up with a little private rodeo for Nat, who was watching from our bedroom window.
    Nat and I were down there, spending a few days on the Lister spread, so that Clarence Lister, who was an alderman, and I could discuss my forthcoming election campaign. I was thinking of standing for the US senate but it never got off the ground. That afternoon we’d just settled down to discussions when Clarence received a phone call from the city that there’d been a big hotel fire. So he’d been compelled to high-tail it back into town. Lorna Lister was also away and so that only left the kids, Malcolm, aged about two, who had a coloured woman to look after him, and Tommy, the eight year old with the pony.
    After the sport, I left Tommy and went up to our suite for ashower. Under that shower, I kept chuckling to myself, remembering different events from the afternoon and calling them out to Nat, like:
    “You know what that kid said, after he came off for the second time? He picked himself up, shook his head and shouted: ‘now, come on, horse, one of us has gotta make concessions.’ Going to grow up to be a politician like his old man, I guess. He’s a real smart kid, though. I misplaced the gun and—Nat? What is it? My love, why are you crying?”
    She was standing by the window, Horace, tears coursing down her cheeks. I was still dripping from the shower and had nothing on but I bounded over and took her in my arms.
    “What’s happened? What is it?”
    I was totally mystified, Horace, because we’d been having a fine time and it was high spring and the world was shot through with flowers.
    “I’m sorry, Tornado! I’m sorry! Oh God, I’m sorry!”
    “What about? Nat? What the hell have you got to be sorry about?”
    My first thought, Horace, was that she’d been messing around with some guy but then I realized that there were no males present older than five. Anyhow, I never seriously suspected Nat of that ever.
    In the end she told me what it was, Horace. Nat was weeping because she hadn’t yet become pregnant, because she was afraid that she was barren and that I was