"$ 1.98" , en kort historia av Arthur Porges , först publicerad i < em> The Magazine of Fantasy och Science Fiction , maj 1954 , tillgänglig på Internetarkiv .
Som högskolestudent som precis börjat i science fiction, läste jag en novellsamling i paperback som inkluderade den här historien - inte riktigt kortfattad men inte heller lång. Jag tror att det var skrivet av en känd författare, eftersom samlingen var en av dessa "Best Of .." antologier.
Tre och en halv sidor i sin ursprungliga tidningspublikation. Arthur Porges har en Wikipedia-sida ; förmodligen hans mest kända historier är "The Ruum" och " Djävulen och Simon Flagg .
Vår hjälte är en sympatisk ung kille som försöker komma fram, kär i en vacker granne, men hopplös i kärlek.
That morning Will Howard was taking a Sunday stroll through the woods, a pleasure which lately had been shared and intensified by Rita Henry. Not even the bright sun, the bracing air, the unique song of a canyon wren, could lighten Will's dark thoughts. Right now she was out riding with Harley Thompson at an exclusive country club. Will couldn't blame her. Harley was six feet two, a former Princeton tackle; ruggedly handsome, full of pleasant small talk; the young-executive-with-a-big-future. And he, Will Howard, a skinny, tongue tied fellow—
Han räddar en miniatyr mindre gudom (och jag har glömt mekanismen - rädd från en katt kanske?)
Det var en vassle:
Quickly Will scooped the terrified rodent into one palm. The weasel stopped, making a nasty, chikkering sound, eyes red in the triangular mask of ferocity that was its face. For a heartbeat it seemed about to attack its giant opponent, but as Will stepped forward, shouting, the beast, chattering with rage, undulated off the path.
och får en önskan i gengäld.
In a voice which although faint was surprisingly resonant, the figure said: "Accept, O kindly mortal, the grateful thanks of Eep, the God. How can I reward you for saving me from that rapacious monster?"
Fångsten är att eftersom detta bara är en mindre gudom, är värdet av önskan liten - och jag glömmer det faktiska värdet, kanske $ 2,49.
"You mentioned a—a reward," he said diffidently.
"I certainly did," the god assured him, swinging on a dandelion stem and kicking minute bare feet luxuriously. "But alas, only a small one. I am, as you see, a very small god."
"Oh," Will said, rather crestfallen. Then brightening: "May I suggest that a small fortune—?" Truly the presence of an immortal was sharpening his wits.
"Of course. But it would have to be exceedingly small. I couldn't go above $1.98."
Senare den kvällen slår tjejen på dörren, han öppnar den för sina välkomna armar och natten går. Nästa morgon hittar vår hjälte en liten klippning på golvet, en artikel med de senaste uppskattningarna av det totala värdet av elementen i människokroppen var ... $ 2.49. (Hela berättelsen byggde på den stanslinjen.)
The next morning, when she picked up the wispy panties from the floor where they had been tossed in flattering haste, a scrap of paper dropped from the black nylon.
Wondering, Will picked it up. It was a newspaper clipping. Someone had written in the margin in a tiny, flowing script: "A gratuity from the grateful (up to $1.98) God Eep."
The clipping itself, a mere filler, read: "At present prices, the value of the chemical compounds which make up the human body is only $1.98."