HANDYman
By FRANK BANTA
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Galaxy Magazine August 1962.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
They didn't have to worry about a thing
for the rest of their natural lives....
James Ypsilanti swung at the door with the steak cuber. Or was itthe cube steaker? No matter. The door was a good, hardwood door andresisted his onslaught well. But time was on his side.
He had the energy and the time, he knew, and sooner or later the doorwould be kindling.
It was the door to his room. It was evident to him that he did not needthe door to his room and that he did need heat. In fact he had betterget some heat pretty soon—although he was keeping warm enough for thepresent by beating on the door. So he would beat this door to kindling,and then he would build a nice, cozy fire in the hall that would keephim warm for a long time ... if he was stingy with his fuel.
The carpenter came by. The carpenter was always coming by, except whenyou wanted him, Jim realized. The carpenter was a mighty, mighty busyfellow.
The carpenter stopped short when he saw Jim demolishing the door. Infact he came to a grinding halt.
"Jim, why didn't you tell me!"
"Carpenter, how was I to know where you were? Who can ever find you?"
"I know Jim. Jim, you work so hard!"
"Yes!" he said, pounding.
"Take this hatchet, Jim. A hatchet is what you demolish doors with!Good-by." The carpenter departed.
James Ypsilanti swung on the door with his newly acquired hatchet. Soonhe was ready for his fire. He struck a match, and in no time had thepile of varnished kindling blazing smokily in the hall. He held hishands over the blaze.
"Ah, good, good. Good." He closed his eyes. "What could be better thanthis?" Then he opened them again regretfully. "It's dinner time. I'dbetter fix it while I have my fire going." He hurried to the kitchenand chose a can of eggs-bacon-and-pancakes from the massive stores.
Opening the large can, he heated it over his hall fire. Then he dumpedthe contents on his tin plate and ate.
"Murder," he thought somberly. "That's what I'm in for. Practicallymurder with consent. She said she couldn't live without me. Margiebegged me to kill her, you might as well say. Good old Margie; a goodkid, but I killed her. And now.... Well, that's life!" He speared apancake.
"Damn, but it's cold!" He threw an armload of wood on the fire and itblazed up. "Sure wish these carpenters had feelings. My lord, they gotno feelings at all!"
The carpenter arrived with a new hardwood door. Whistling cheerily, hebegan to install it where the other one had just been hatcheted away.
"Carpenter, that door won't be staying there long. I'm almost out offuel."
"I hope you don't expect me to be surprised, Jim, if this door doesn'tlast very long. The previous twenty-two doors at this location,Jim, did not last very long either." Still whistling to himself, heinstalled the last of the hinge screws.
"Why don't you just give me the doors, instead of causing yourselfall this work?" demanded James Ypsilanti.
"'Inmates will not be issued materials,' Jim. I've quoted that sectionof the rules to you many times, Jim."
"But couldn't you just lean the door up against the door