boucher book oct28.pdf - Index of

Snulbug 327
“But how about man’s free will? Can’t I do whatever I want to do?”
“Sure. It was your precious free will that brought the paper into now. You can’t
undo your own will. And, anyway, your will’s still free. You’re free to go getting thrown
around chandeliers as often as you want. You probably like it. You can do anything
up to the point where it would change what’s in that paper. Then you have to start
in again and again and again until you make up your mind to be sensible.”
“But that—” Bill fumbled for words, “that’s just as bad as … as fate or predestination.
If my soul wills to—”
“Newspapers aren’t enough. Time theory isn’t enough. So I should tell him about
his soul! People—” and Snulbug withdrew into the bowl.
Bill looked up at the city hall regretfully and shrugged his resignation. Then he
folded his paper to the sports page and studied it carefully.
Snulbug thrust his head out again as they stopped in the many-acred parking lot.
“Where is it this time?” he wanted to know. “Not that it matters.”
“The racetrack.”
“Oh—” Snulbug groaned, “I might have known it. You’re all alike. No sense in
the whole caboodle. I suppose you found a long shot?”
“Darned tooting I did. Alhazred at twenty to one in the fourth. I’ve got $500,
the only money I’ve got left on earth. Plunk on Alhazred’s nose it goes, and there’s
our $10,000.”
Snulbug grunted. “I hear his lousy spell, I watch him get caught on a merry-goround,
it isn’t enough, I should see him lay a bet on a long shot.”
“But there isn’t a loophole in this. I’m not interfering with the future; I’m just
taking advantage of it. Alhazred’ll win this race whether I bet on him or not. Five
pretty hundred-dollar parimutuel tickets, and behold: The Hitchens Laboratory!”
Bill jumped spryly out of his car and strutted along joyously. Suddenly he paused
and addressed his pipe: “Hey! Why do I feel so good?”
Snulbug sighed dismally. “Why should anybody?”
“No, but I mean: I took a hell of a shellacking from that plug-ugly in the office.
And I haven’t got a pain or an ache.”
“Of course not. It never happened.”
“But I felt it then.”
“Sure. In a future that never was. You changed your mind, didn’t you? You
decided not to go up there?”
“O.K., but that was after I’d already been beaten up.”
“Uh-uh,” said Snulbug firmly. “It was before you hadn’t been.” And he withdrew
again into the pipe.
There was a band somewhere in the distance and the raucous burble of an announcer’s
voice. Crowds clustered around the $2 windows, and the $5 weren’t doing
bad business. But the $100 window, where the five beautiful pasteboards lived that
were to create an embolism laboratory, was almost deserted.
Bill buttonholed a stranger with a purple nose. “What’s the next race?”
“Second, Mac.”
Swell, Bill thought. Lots of time. And from now on— He hastened to the $100
window and shoved across the five bills that he had drawn from the bank that morn-