The Stepford Wives

FRANK STOOD WAITING IN Bobbie's bright doorway. The men talked with him, and turned to her as she came slowly up the walk.

Frank smiled. "She says sure," he said. "If it'll make you feel b-better she'll be glad to do it."

She gave the flashlight to the green-shirted man. His face was broad and leathery, strong-looking. "We'll wait out here," he said, lifting the coat from her shoulders.

She said, "She doesn't have to…"

"No, go on," he said. "You'll only start wondering again later."

Frank came out onto the doorstep. "She's in the kitchen," he said.

She went into the house. Its warmth surrounded her. Rock music blared and thumped from upstairs.

She went down the hallway, flexing her aching hands.

Bobbie stood waiting in the kitchen, in red slacks and an apron with a big daisy on it. "Hi, Joa

Beautiful bosomy Bobbie. But not a robot.

"Hi," she said. She held the doorjamb, and leaned to it and rested the side of her head against it.

"I'm sorry to hear you're in such a state," Bobbie said.

"Sorry to be in it," she said.

"I dont mind cutting my finger a little," Bobbie said, "if it'll ease your mind for you." She walked to a counter. Walked smoothly, steadily, gracefully. Opened a drawer.

"Bobbie…" Joa

"Of course I am," Bobbie said, a knife in her hand. She went to the sink.

"Come here," she said. "You can't see from there."

The rock music blared louder. "What's going on upstairs?" Joa

"I don't know," Bobbie said. "Dave has the boys up there. Come here. You can't see."

The knife was large, its blade pointed. "You'll amputate your whole hand with that thing," Joa

"I'll be careful," Bobbie said, smiling. "Come on." She beckoned, holding the large knife.

Joa

She stopped. The music is in case I scream, she thought. She isn't going to cut her finger; she's going to- "Come on," Bobbie said, standing by the sink, beckoning, holding the point-bladed knife.

Not catastrophic, Dr. Fancher? Thinking they're robots not women? Thinking Bobbie would kill me? Are you sure you can help me?

"You don't have to do it, she said to Bobbie.

"It'll ease your mind," Bobbie said.

"I'm seeing a shrink after New Year's," she said. "That'll ease my mind.

At least I hope it will."

"Come on," Bobbie said. "The men are waiting."

Joa

THE MEN STOOD ON THE doorstep, blowing out steamy breath, their hands deep in their pockets. Frank hipped from side to side with the beat of the loud rock music.

Bernie said, "What's taking so long?"

Wy

The rock music blared.

Wy

"Get Dave's car keys!" Frank called after him.

THE MARKET PARKING LOT was pretty well filled, but she found a good place up near the front; and that, plus the sun's warmth and the moist sweet smell of the air when she got out of the car, made her feel less bothered about having to be shopping. A little less bothered, anyway.

Miss Austrian came limping and caning toward her from the market's entrance, with a small paper bag in her hand and-she didn't believe it-a friendly smile on her Queenof-Hearts white face. For her? "Good morning, Mrs. Hendry," Miss Austrian said.

What do you know, black is bearable. "Good morning," she said.

"March is certainly going out like a lamb, isn't it?"

"Yes," she said. "It seemed like it was going to be a twoheaded lion."

Miss Austrian stopped and stood looking at her. "You haven't been in the library in months," she said. "I hope we haven't lost you to television."

"Oh no, not me," she said, smiling. "I've been working."

"On another book?"

"Yes.

"Good. Let me know when it's going to be published; we'll order a copy."

"I will," she said. "And I'll be in soon. I'm almost done with it."

"Have a good day," Miss Austrian said, smiling and caning away, "Thanks. You too."

Well, there was one sale.

Maybe she'd been hypersensitive. Maybe Miss Austrian was cold to whites too until they'd been there a few months.

She went through the market's opening-by-themselves doors and found an empty cart. The aisles were the usual Saturday morning parade.

She went quickly, taking what she needed, maneuvering the cart in and out and around. "Excuse me. Excuse me, please." It still bugged her the way they shopped so languidly, gliding along as if they never sweated. How white could you get? Even filling their carts just so! She could shop the whole market in the time they did one aisle.

Joa

"Hello, Joa

Joa

"I'm fine," Rutha

"Thanks," Joa

"It certainly shows," Rutha

"I'm sorry I haven't called you," Joa

"Oh that's all right." Rutha

"I meant to," Joa

You know how it is."

"That's all right," Rutha

"Congratulations," Joa

"Thanks," Rutha

"Oh no," Joa

"You don't?" Rutha

"No," Joa

Rutha

"I'll call you one of these days when I get caught up with things,"

Joa

"What are you doing then, besides your housework?" Rutha

"Nothing, really," Joa

I'm much happier too, and so is my family. That's what counts, isn't it?"

"Yes, I guess so," Rutha

"Maybe we can," Joa

"Same here," Rutha

Joa

Rutha

SHE COULDN'T GET TO WORK. She paced and turned in the close-walled room; looked out the window at Chickie and Sara playing with the Cohane girls; leafed through the stack of finished drawings and found them not as amusing and skillful as she'd thought they were.