Free The World Behind the Door by Mike Resnick Page B

found himself facing a giraffe.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Was that you ?" he asked.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Most assuredly," said the giraffe.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "But giraffes can't make any sound at all," said Dali. "Everyone knows that."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Silliest thing I ever heard," replied the giraffe. "Or do you think I'm not making any sounds."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "I apologize," said Dali. "Clearly I was the victim of false doctrine." He stared at the creature. "I think I saw you the last time I was here."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "It's possible. I live here."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "But you were on fire then."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  The giraffe shrugged. "It was a hot day."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "That's not a valid reason," protested Dali. "After all, you aren't covered with snow today."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "I don't like snow."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Are you saying you like being on fire?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "You've been standing here talking to me," replied the giraffe. "Did I say that?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "No, but . . ."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Jinx, maybe you should knead your friend's brain the way you might knead a loaf of bread. It's much too rigid."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Then tell me what you represent when you're on fire," said Dali.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "What I represent?" repeated the giraffe. "You make it sound like I've got a constituency that votes for me because I catch on fire."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "That's not what I meant," protested Dali.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "A giraffe's life is too busy to worry about what you meant."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  And with that the giraffe ran off.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "He's right, you know," said Dali after a moment's thought.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "About what?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "I am too rigid. Surrealism is just another discipline, and if one can call it a discipline, then it is already suffering hardening of the arteries. This brief interlude with the giraffe reminds me that I have come here to free myself of all my preconceptions. I would like it to be said someday that the only difference between Dali and a madman is that Dali is not quite mad."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  He began walking through the strange and ever-changing landscape, peering intently into the distance.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "What are you looking for?" asked Jinx at last.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Something I saw the last time I was here."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Things change," responded Jinx. "My world is much like yours in that respect. Perhaps if you'll tell me what you're looking for . . ."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Those limp clocks."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "They're not here."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "You're sure?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "You saw them days ago. They weren't keeping time fast enough to make it all the way up to today." She paused. "They'll probably be here next week—but of course, you'll be a week ahead of them."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "That is wonderful!" exclaimed Dali.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "That you can't see what you came here to see?" she asked, confused.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "That you gave me a totally nonsensical answer that makes absolute sense to me," he said.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "I don't understand."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "All the better," said Dali. "All right, we can go back to my side of the door."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "You're sure?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "I'm sure. If I stayed here, I'd be the most realistic painter of this world. I'd rather be the least realistic of my own—and with the very same paintings."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Why did you want to see the clocks?" she asked as they began walking through the dreamlike, angular landscape.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "Just to study them."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "What about them interests you?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  "I don't like Time," said