Strange Creatures of Dr. Korbo by Gilbert L. Morris Page A

afraid to do things that other people might not understand.”
    Josh finished his job and joggled Susie on his knee. She gurgled, and he leaned forward, looking into her mouth. “I wonder when you’re going to start cutting teeth. That won’t be any fun.” Then he looked back at Sarah. “You’re not altogether right about what you said. I used to be terribly worried about what people thought about me. You, for instance.”
    â€œMe! Why me?”
    â€œWhen you first came to our house, back before we came to Nuworld. Do you remember?”
    â€œI remember I was awfully afraid. My parents were off in Africa, and I was coming to live with a strange family. I didn’t know any of you, and I thought you might be—well, I didn’t know what you’d be.”
    â€œI didn’t know you felt like that at the time,” Josh said. “The first time I saw you, I got all choked up. I always was afraid of pretty girls, and you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen.”
    Sarah laughed at that. “You must not have seen many pretty girls.”
    â€œAnyway,” Josh said. “I don’t know why, but I thought I had to be tough.”
    â€œI remember that too. You swaggered around and tried to talk tough, but I knew you weren’t.” Sarah stood up. “Let’s put these babies down on the floor with the others.”
    For a while they watched the eight babies try to crawl around. Josh said, “It would have been terrible if that magician Korbo had done something to one of these kids.”
    â€œI know. He must be a monster himself. But that’s what the Dark Lord does to people.”
    About that time Gus walked into the cave. He was carrying fresh milk. “That’s funny.”
    â€œWhat’s funny, Gus?”
    â€œThose mares. The way they came over here all by themselves just now—practically asking to be milked. I appreciate the goats, but this is sure better.” He held up the jug and said, “When we leave here, I’m going to miss unicorn milk. Of course, probably the herd will up and leave us anytime now. Might as well expect that.”
    Josh didn’t answer, and Gus sat down beside him. “And you know we’ve got to leave here sooner or later, don’t you, Josh?”
    â€œI know. And it’s worrying me a lot. I just can’t make up my mind . . .”
    Gus did not say anything else. He got up shortly and went to find Meta.
    Meta was cutting up leaves for salad when Gus found her.
    â€œI’ve written you another poem, Meta.”
    â€œOh, let’s hear it! I love your poetry.”
    Gus had not written down the poem, but it was firmly in his mind. He quoted the verse and winked at her. “How about that?”
    â€œThat’s the most beautiful poem I ever heard.”
    â€œYou said that about the last poem I wrote for you.”
    â€œWell, every poem that you write is better than the next one.”
    â€œWait a minute! That’s not right.”
    â€œOh, no! That would mean your poetry was getting worse.” Meta laughed and put her hand over her mouth. “I mean every one is better than the last one.”
    â€œWell, now, that’s more like it.” Gus sat down beside Meta and watched her finish her work. He took off his hat and put it down by his feet. His lank hair lay over his shoulders.
    â€œYou need your hair cut,” she told him.
    â€œWhat for?”
    â€œBecause it would make you look better.”
    Gus stared at her. “I thought I looked good enough already.”
    â€œOh, you do,” Meta said, “but I think if I could trim your hair neatly, it would improve even you.”
    â€œIt would?”
    â€œOh yes. I think so.”
    â€œWell, have at it.”
    Meta ran to fetch some scissors, and soon she had given Gus a very respectable haircut. She brushed his hair back and said, “Now, that looks much