Ellison Wonderland

Kit and brought out the layer of softly-folded, unbelievably black, ghastly-feeling material. She dropped it at her feet. “Are you ready?” asked the pamphlet.

She started violently. It was uncanny the way that thing knew what and when and how and oh well…it was supposed to, wasn’t it? But so creepy

“Yes, thank you.”

“Excellent. Now this second method allows less room for Human error. However, it is more dangerous, and more complex. Your three methods of murder are offered in order of increasing effort and danger. Sequentially, they are held so the simplest can be allowed to work first, thus denying the element of failure and discovery as much as possible.

“Your Deadly Nightshade is nearly flawless. If you follow my instructions to the exact letter precisely—and I cannot stress this enough—you will have accomplished your desire by morning.

“Your Deadly Nightshade is a copyrighted, patented—” and it reeled off, in a bored voice, a string of Guatemalan Patent Authority designates, “—exclusive with the Do-It-Yourself Murder Kit.” She realized at once that the voice was huckstering out of necessity, that it found such commercialism odious, vulgar and tedious.

“It will provide night,” the pamphlet said. “Night for the purpose you seek. Here is how it is used:

“Place it in the bedroom of the one you wish to eliminate. It is very important that this be done precisely as directed. On no account should you, after placing the Deadly Nightshade in the bedroom, re-enter it before the intended victim. The Deadly Nightshade acts as a controlled form of narcolepsy, by the release of hypnotically- keyed visual and mental depressants. The intended victim is cast into a hypnotic spell of long night. In three days he or she will sleep all life away. The room will be a place of perpetual darkness to him or her and slowly the vital bodily functions will fail and cease, beginning with the flow of blood to the brain.

“However, it is very important that you place the Nightshade in the intended’s room evenly and without wrinkles, stretching it out under the bed or somewhere else where it will escape observation. And…you must not re- enter the room once you have placed the Deadly Nightshade. Exposure begins once the sheet is spread.”

She shook it out like a chenille bedspread and laid it out neatly, placing it very carefully under the bed, once again precautionarily laying out newsfax to avoid any later unpleasantness to the floor. She tidied the bed, tucking nicely, the blankets as tight as those on the bunk of an army King/Sgt. She spread the Deadly Nightshade in a tight, wrinkle-free sheet.

She missed seeing the socks, somehow.

They were on the floor, just peeping out from under the bed, half-under the Deadly Nightshade. She caught them out of the comer of her eye, just as she pulled the door to behind herself.

Carl’s filthy, filthy socks. A pang of hysteria went through her. He always left them where they fen. She could not understand how she had failed to see them when she had tidied that morning, nor more important, when she had stretched out the Deadly Nightshade. Per,. haps the excitement of the night before, and the fervor of now. She remembered the instructions clearly.

“...you must not re-enter the room once you have placed the Deadly Nightshade. Exposure begins once the sheet is spread...”

Well! She certainly wasn’t going to chance that.

As it was, she would have to invent a reason for coming to bed after he had retired. Perhaps the Midnight Movie on tri-V.

Nor was she going to foul it up as she had with the Animaux Tube. But just the same…those stinking socks. On a level far deeper than any conscious urge to murder Carl, the training of a lifetime, the murmured words of her Mother, and the huge distaste of her Father for litter, sent her to the broom closet.

She re-opened the door, and yes…just by holding the broom tightly at the sucker-straws, by keeping her wrist flexed and tight to maintain rigid balanced control, she was able to snag the socks, one by one. —and withdraw them.

—without entering the room.

—and close the door again.

Madge congratulated herself, once she had slung the stench-filled socks into the dispop. She busied herself in the kitchen, punching out a scrumptious frappe dessert for Carl’s dinner. His last dinner on this Earth. Or anywhere.

Not that he’d notice, the big boob, not that he’d notice.

Nor did she notice the great wrinkle in one end of the Deadly Nightshade. Caused by the prodding of the broom handle. He was yawning, and it looked like the eroded south forty getting friendly.

“Jeezus, Madge honey, I nearly overslept. Whyn’tcha wake me? I’ll be late for my shift. “

She gawked, stricken. Twice!

“I ain’t never seen nothin’ like it, honey. I was enjoyin’ the best sleep of my life, but this here bright, real bright streak of light was in my dreams, y’know? An’ I couldn’t rest easy, y’know. I kept squintin’ and tossin’ and finally hadda get up, cause I mean, Jeezus, it was painful. Piercin’, y’know? So I got up, an’ a lucky thing, too, or I’d’a missed my shift. Whyn’tcha wake me, huh?”

She mumbled a reply, her face hot and her hands constantly at her mouth; she had the urge to clamp down hard with her teeth, to keep from shrieking.

She continued to mumble, punched-out a hurried breakfast, and summarily ushered him off to his expressway.

Then she sank into a chair and had a good, deep cry.

Later, when she was certain she had control of herself, she got out the pamphlet again.

This time there was no mistaking the annoyance in the pamphlet’s voice.

“You failed again. I can tell from your emanations. Very seldom does anyone need two of the methods provided by our Kits…you are the first one in nearly eight thousand Kits that has needed all three. We hope you are proud of yourself.”

“His dirty socks,” she began, “I had to get them out. I just couldn’t stand the thought…”

“I do not wish apologies. I want attention! The third method is very simple—even a dunce—”

“There’s no need to get nasty about it!” she interrupted.

“—even a dunce cannot fail with it,” the booklet plowed on ruthlessly. “Take out the last article contained in the Kit. The heart-globe. Do not agitate it as it is a sympathetic stimulator of the heartbeat—” Then the sound came to Madge, and the knowledge that someone was near. Listening. She flipped the pamphlet closed, but it was too late. Much too late.