Steel by Richard Matheson Page B

she said.
    â€œYes, it is,” he said and her fingers tightened on his arm.
    Bill opened the door for them.
    â€œHop in, kids,” he said. “And we’ll get rolling.”
    Jeannie got on her knees on the front seat and talked to Les and Ruth as the car started up the street. Ruth turned and watched the apartment house disappear.
    â€œI felt the same way about our house,” Mary said.
    â€œDon’t fret, Ma,” Bill said. “We’ll make out down thar.”
    â€œWhat’s down thar? ” Jeannie asked.
    â€œGod knows,” said Bill, then, “Daddy’s joking, baby. Down thar means down there. ”
    â€œSay, Bill, do you think we’ll be living near each other in The Tunnels?” Les asked.
    â€œI don’t know, kid,” Bill said. “It goes by district. We’ll be pretty close together I guess, but Fred and Grace won’t, living way the hell over in Venice the way they do.”
    â€œI can’t say I’m sorry,” Mary said. “I don’t relish the idea of listening to Grace complain for the next twenty years.”
    â€œOh, Grace is all right,” Bill said. “All she needs is a good swift kick where it counts once in a while.”
    Traffic was heavy on the main boulevards that ran east for the two city entrances. Bill drove slowly along Lincoln Boulevard towards Venice. Outside of Jeannie’s chattering none of them spoke. Ruth and Les sat close to each other, hands clasped, eyes straight ahead. Today, the words kept running through his mind: we’re going underground, we’re going underground today.
    *   *   *
    At first nothing happened when Bill honked the horn. Then the front door of the little house jerked open and Grace came running wildly across the broad lawn, still wearing her dressing gown and slippers, her gray-black hair hanging down in long braids.
    â€œOh my God, what’s happened?” Mary said as Bill pushed quickly from the car to meet Grace. He pulled open the gate in time to catch Grace as one of her slipper heels dug into the soft earth throwing her off balance.
    â€œWhat’s wrong? ” he asked, bracing her with his hands.
    â€œIt’s Fred! ” she cried.
    Bill’s face went blank and his gaze jumped suddenly to the house standing silent and white in the sunshine. Les and Mary got out of the car quickly.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with—” Bill started, cutting off his words nervously.
    â€œHe won’t go!” Grace cried, her face a mask of twisted fright.
    They found him as Grace said he’d been all morning—fists clenched, sitting motionless in his easy chair by the window that overlooked the garden. Bill walked over to him and laid a hand on his thin shoulder.
    â€œWhat’s up, buddy?” he asked.
    Fred looked up, a smile starting at the corners of his small mouth. “Hi,” he said quietly.
    â€œYou’re not going?” Bill asked.
    Fred took a breath and seemed about to say something else, then he stopped. “No,” he said as if he were politely refusing peas at dinner.
    â€œOh, my God, I told you, I told you!” Grace sobbed. “He’s insane! ”
    â€œAll right, Grace, take it easy. ” Bill snapped irritably and she pressed the soaked handkerchief to her mouth. Mary put her arm around Grace.
    â€œWhy not, pal?” Bill asked his friend.
    Another smile twitched momentarily on Fred’s lips. He shrugged slightly.
    â€œDon’t want to,” he said.
    â€œOh, Fred, Fred, how can you do this to me?” Grace moaned, standing nervously by the front door, right hand to her throat. Bill’s mouth tightened but he kept his eyes on Fred’s motionless face.
    â€œWhat about Grace?” he asked.
    â€œGrace should go,” Fred answered. “I want her to go, I don’t want her to die.”
    â€œHow can I live down there alone? ” Grace sobbed.
    Fred