“No, but-”
“Was I the one who said it was a good idea when I suggested putting the Plan in the locker?”
“No, but-”
“Was I the one who insisted on having candlelight for lunch?”
“No, but-”
“Yes, that was me, Max.”
“Oh.”
“So how can you say it’s entirely my fault?”
“Because,” Max replied, “my mind hasn’t been on my work. It’s been on you.”
“Max! That’s so romantic!”
“Not on you exactly,” Max said, correcting himself. “It’s been on your list of romantic things to do. And, consequently, it hasn’t been on the mission.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. “What I ought to do is tear this list limb from limb,” he said. “Because of it, Noman has emerged victorious.”
“No, Max! Don’t do that.”
“And just why not?”
“Because that isn’t my list, Max! That’s the Plan!”
Max looked at the sheet of paper. “By George, It is!”
“You gave Noman my list and kept the. Plan,” Peaches said.
“A slight error,” Max said. “It could happen, to anybody.”
“You’ve ruined everything!” Peaches sobbed.
“Actually, it’s all in the way you look at it,” Max said. “Since I’ve kept the Dooms Day Plan out of the hands of Noman, some might say that I’ve saved the day.”
“That’s selfish!” Peaches wept. “My list! Now I’ll have to start all over again.”
“But civilization (as we know it) has been given a second chance!” Max said.
“What does that mean to an empty-headed blonde who’s lost her list of romantic things to do?”
“Let’s argue about it on the train,” Max said. “We started early this morning, and it’s past noon, and we’re still not out of Washington. Considering that we’re living in the jet age, that’s not a very good record.”
“All right, let’s go,” Peaches wept. “Anything to take my mind off my loss.”
They boarded the train, then looked for their compartment.
“What number is it?” Peaches asked.
“Compartment 44,” Max replied. “That sounds familiar, doesn’t it? I wonder if I’ve ridden this train before.”
“That’s your friend,” Peaches reminded him.
“My friend? I don’t have any friends who are train compartments.”
“Agent 44.”
“Oh… yes. Good old Agent 44. He must be well thought of by the railroad.”
“Why is that?”
“They named a compartment after him,” Max said.
“Maybe it was some other 44,” Peaches said.
“That’s possible.”
They met a porter coming along the aisle from the opposite direction. Max stopped him.
“Porter, we’re looking for Compartment 44,” Max said. “Do you have any idea where it might be?”
“Yes, sir. Right between Compartment 43 and Compartment 45.”
“That’s helpful. Now, where would we find, say, Compartment 45?”
“Well, sir, that’s right between-”
“Never mind,” Max broke in. “I’ve found it. It’s right here-this compartment we’re standing in front of.”
The porter looked and nodded. “That’s it all right, sir. Right where I said it was-right between Compartment 43 and Compartment 45.” He opened the door. “Right in here, sir, and lady.”
Max and Peaches stepped in. The porter followed them.
“May I see your tickets, sir?” the porter said.
Max handed him the tickets. “That’s for a round-trip one-way,” he said.
“Yes, sir, I see it is.” The porter pointed to the right-hand seat. “The lady sits here,” he said. He pointed to the left-hand seat. “And the gentleman sits here.”
“Why is that?” Max asked. “Why can’t we sit in any seat we want to?”
“You got a round-trip ticket, sir,” the porter explained. “One seat is the ‘going’ seat and the other seat is the ‘coming’ seat. You sit in the ‘going’ seat, and the lady sits in the ‘coming’ seat.”
“I’m sorry I asked,” Max replied. “All right, porter. Thank you for your help. I’ll call you if I need you.”
The porter backed out and closed the door.
“He looked familiar to me, Max,” Peaches said.
“I don’t wonder. He looked like a typical pullman porter.”
“Yes, I suppose that was it.”
Max went to the window and raised the shade-and found himself face-to-face with Agent 44.
“Good to see you again,” Max said. “Unless, of course, you’re Noman masquerading as Agent 44.”
Agent 44 made signals, indicating that he could not hear Max through the window.
“I said, ‘Good to see you again’!” Max shouted.
“Why don’t you open the window, Max?” Peaches suggested.
“Because train windows do not open.”
Peaches went to the window, touched a finger to the bottom of the frame, and raised the window easily.
“Let me put it another way,” Max said. “ Normally, train windows do not open.” He turned back to Agent 44. “Good to see you again,” he said. “Assuming, of course, that you’re not Noman.”
“I don’t think I am,” 44 answered. “What does he look like?”
“If he’s in a public locker, he looks like you,” Max said.
“Ask him if he has my list of romantic things to do,” Peaches said. “If he does, he’s Noman. If he doesn’t, he’s 44.”
“I’ll try that,” Max said. He turned back to Agent 44.
“I don’t have it,” 44 said.
Max turned back to Peaches.
“Then he’s 44,” she said.
Max turned back to Agent 44. But he was gone.
“I felt a little left out of that conversation there at the end,” Max said, closing the window.
“Shhh!” Peaches said. “I’m trying to remember what I had on my list of romantic things to do.”
“You were going to dunk Al Capone in a fountain, I remember that,” Max said.
“That doesn’t sound romantic.”
“It does to me. But then, all fountains sound romantic to me,” Max said.
“Candlelight-I remember that,” Peaches said.
“Yes, and-” Max interrupted himself. “Wait a minute! Hear that?”
Peaches cocked an ear. “What?”
“Listen.”
Then Peaches heard the sound, too. It went: “Choo-Choo-Choo!”
“We’re on our way!” Max said happily. “New York-here we come!”
William Johnston
Get Smart 3 — Get Smart Once Again!
8
A S THE train moved slowly out of the terminal, Max sat down in his seat and removed his shoe. “Time to
