Free Duel by Richard Matheson Page A

of the little fathers saw me. He pointed at the window. I let go and slid down the wall in the dark. I curled up as they would not see. I heard their talks by the window and foots running. Upstairs there was a door hitting. I heard the little mother call upstairs. I heard heavy steps and I rushed in my bed place. I hit the chain in the wall and lay down on my front.
    I heard my mother come down. Have you been at the window she said. I heard the anger. Stay away from the window. You have pulled the chain out again.
    She took the stick and hit me with it. I didnt cry. I cant do that. But the drip ran all over the bed. She saw it and twisted away and made a noise. Oh mygodmygod she said why have you done this to me? I heard the stick go bounce on the stone floor. She ran upstairs. I slept the day.
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    XXXXX—This day it had water again. When mother was upstairs I heard the little one come slow down the steps. I hidded myself in the
coal bin for mother would have anger if the little mother saw me.
    She had a little live thing with her. It walked on the arms and had pointy ears. She said things to it.
    It was all right except the live thing smelled me. It ran up the coal and looked down at me. The hairs stood up. In the throat it made an angry noise. I hissed but it jumped on me.
    I didnt want to hurt it. I got fear because it bit me harder than the rat does. I hurt and the little mother screamed. I grabbed the live thing tight. It made sounds I never heard. I pushed it all together. It was all lumpy and red on the black coal.
    I hid there when mother called. I was afraid of the stick. She left. I crept over the coal with the thing. I hid it under my pillow and rested on it. I put the chain in the wall again.
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    X—This is another times. Father chained me tight. I hurt because he beat me. This time I hit the stick out of his hands and made noise. He went away and his face was white. He ran out of my bed place and locked the door.
    I am not so glad. All day it is cold in here. The chain comes slow out of the wall. And I have a bad anger with mother and father. I will show them. I will do what I did that once.
    I will screech and laugh loud. I will run on the walls. Last I will hang head down by all my legs and laugh and drip green all over until they are sorry they didnt be nice to me.
    If they try to beat me again Ill hurt them. I will.
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    X—

RETURN
    PROFESSOR ROBERT WADE WAS JUST SITTING DOWN on the thick fragrant grass when he saw his wife Mary come rushing past the Social Sciences Building and onto the campus.
    She had apparently run all the way from the house—a good half mile. And with a child in her. Wade clenched his teeth angrily on the stem of his pipe.
    Someone had told her.
    He could see how flushed and breathless she was as she hurried around the ellipse of walk facing the Liberal Arts Building. He pushed himself up.
    Now she was starting down the wide path that paralleled the length of the enormous granite-faced Physical Sciences Center. Her bosom rose and fell rapidly. She raised her right hand and pushed back wisps of dark brown hair.
    Wade called, “Mary! Over here!” and gestured with his pipe.

    She slowed down, gasping in the cool September air. Her eyes searched over the wide sunlit campus until she saw him. Then she ran off the walk onto the grass. He could see the pitiful fright marring her features and his anger faded. Why did anyone have to tell her?
    She threw herself against him. “You said you wouldn’t go this time,” she said, the words spilling out in gasps. “You said s-someone else would go this time.”
    â€œShhh, darling” he soothed. “Get your breath.”
    He pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket and gently patted her forehead.
    â€œRobert, why?” she asked.
    â€œWho told you?” he asked. “I told them not to.”
    She pulled back and stared at him. “Not tell me!” she said. “You’d go