Master of Space and Time Read Online Free PDF Page B

at the tube.
    â€œI’m sorry, Nancy. You’re right, I gave our money to Harry. And I shouldn’t have. He’s not to be trusted. Did you hear the news yet? A giant lizard almost killed me on the Jersey Turnpike?”
    Nancy stubbed her cigarette out in the overflowing ashtray, and lit another, chewing all the while. She tilted her head back to keep the smoke out of her eyes. “All I can say, Joseph, is that—is that . . .” Abruptly she burst into sobs.
    I got up and put my arm around her. I took the cigarette out of her mouth and put my cheek against hers. My frail strawberry-blond darling. My southern belle. “I—I did it for you, Nancy! I want us to be rich and happy again.”
    â€œNo!” She pushed me away, knocking her ashtray off the table. It shattered on the floor. Ashes and broken glass. Serena scrambled over to investigate.
    â€œLook out, Serena, there’s broken glass. Let Daddy clean it up.”
    Nancy and Serena watched me clean up the mess. I used a paper towel and piece of the Froot Loops box. At the end I cut my finger, probably on purpose. “Damn. Oh damn, damn, damn.”
    Sunday morning we went to church, the First Church of Scientific Mysticism. The religion, vaguely Christian, had grown out of the mystical teachings of Albert Einstein and Kurt Gödel, the two great Princeton sages. Nancy and I didn’t attend regularly, but today it seemed like the thingto do. According to the evening news, Godzilla had suddenly disappeared after digging a trench across the Jersey Turnpike. The news didn’t mention if Harry had escaped, but it stood to reason that he had. I guess I was glad.
    The sun was out, and the three of us had a nice time walking over to church.
    â€œI’m sorry I was so ugly to you yesterday, Joe.”
    â€œAnd I’m sorry about the money, baby. Maybe we can drive up to New Brunswick today and see what Harry’s done with it.”
    â€œNo, thanks.” Nancy looked light and pretty in her Sunday dress. I took her hand. Serena skipped along ahead of us, light as dandelion fluff.
    The church building was a remodeled bank, a massive granite building with big pillars and heavy bronze lamps. Inside, there were pews and a raised pulpit. In place of an altar was a large hologram of Albert Einstein. Einstein smiled kindly, occasionally blinking his eyes. Nancy and Serena and I took a pew halfway up the left side. The organist was playing a Bach prelude. I gave Nancy’s hand a squeeze. She squeezed back.
    Today’s service was special. The minister, an elderly physicist named Alwin Bitter, was celebrating the installation of a new assistant, a woman named— Sondra Tupperware . I jumped when I heard her name, remembering that Harry had mentioned her yesterday. Was this another of his fantasies become real? Yet Ms. Tupperware looked solid enough: a skinny woman with red glasses-frames and a springer spaniel’s kinky brown hair.
    Old Bitter was wearing a tuxedo with a thin pink necktie. The dark suit set off his halo of white hairto advantage. He passed out some bread and wine, and then he gave a sermon called “The Central Teachings of Mysticism.”
    His teachings, as best I recall, were three in number: (1) All is One; (2) The One is Unknowable; and (3) The One is Right Here. Bitter delivered his truths with a light touch, and the congregation laughed a lot—happy, surprised laughter.
    Nancy and I lingered after the service, chatting with some of the church members we knew. I was waiting for a chance to ask Alwin Bitter for some advice.
    Finally everyone was gone except for Bitter and Sondra Tupperware. The party in honor of her installation was going to be later that afternoon.
    â€œIs Tupperware your real name?” asked Nancy.
    Sondra laughed and nodded her head. Her eyes were big and round behind the red glasses. “My parents were hippies. They changed the family name to Tupperware to get