by Mel Gilden
A circular door opened in the side of the hat where no door had been, and the brave little band got aboard.
'Come on, Bill,' I said. As we strode back to the house, I said, 'How are you fixed for magnetism?'
'You mean my magnetic personality?'
'I know all about your personality. Anything else?'
'Sure, boss, I'm full of the stuff.'
'Let it all hang out.'
'Right, boss.'
When we were about halfway between the two camera people, I called out, 'How you doing. Busy?'
Busy briefly looked away from her viewfinder and said, 'What?'
The other cameraperson was Gone-out, of course. He didn't even turn his head from his camera when he cried out angrily, 'What are you doing here, Busy?'
Busy sniffed and said, 'What's it to you? You don't have exclusive rights to any of this.'
'Medium Rare will share her knowledge with the world.'
'Yeah, for a swift profit. I just want to show this to my club.'
'We will rent you a copy.'
'Rent nothing. I have my own original right here.'
They went on, bickering like chickens while they shot pictures, getting in nice and tight with telephoto lenses.
A few seconds later, the top hat collapsed down onto itself. It stayed that way for a moment. Then with a loud snap, it suddenly opened to its full height, and the crown pulled the rest of the hat into the sky. It was out of sight in seconds. After a while, I became aware that I had been holding my breath.
Busy and Gone-out lowered their cameras and glared at each other. Busy backed up a few paces, then ran for the highway, her camera banging against her leg. Gone-out cried, 'This is an outrage,' and was after her.
'Come on. Bill,' I said, and followed them as fast as I could.
We were all handicapped by the thick, dry sand that tried to bury our feet at each step, but it was quite a race even so. Gone-out caught up with Busy, and tackled her to the ground. While she fought him, he wrestled the tape cassette out of the camera, and passed us as he ran back toward the water with it.
In the few seconds it took for Busy to get to her feet, Gone-out was halfway to the ocean. With a mighty heave, he flung the cassette. It plopped into the water a little beyond where the waves broke. He stood on the shore, looking out at the place where it disappeared.
We joined Gone-out for a contemplative moment. I stroked the door to the compartment that held Gone-out's video cassette and said, 'Nice material, isn't it. Bill?' I thought I knew what would happen next, and Bill did not disappoint me. He stroked the door too.
He was interrupted by an 'Oof!' from Gone-out as Busy hit him from behind and knocked him onto the sand. Gone-out didn't fight her, he just curled around his video camera and tried to keep his back to her.
'Come on,' I said. Bill and I walked toward Will's house as Busy and Gone-out continued to struggle.
'What now, Boss?' Bill said.
'Nothing, if your magnetic field was strong enough to erase Gone-out's tape.'
'No problem, Boss. Feel this muscle.' He held up his arm in the classic pose. It was just a metal arm, but I felt it anyway and told him how impressed I was.
We went back into the house, where Captain Hook was sitting on the couch and the surfers were sitting around him, explaining what had gone on the past week. He didn't want to buy it, but the rabbits were hard to argue with.
Bill said, 'I want to show you something.'
'Go ahead. I have nothing but time.'
He wanted to choose a movie from Whipper Will's video tape library, but I wouldn't let him touch any of them. 'You'll erase it,' I said.
'No way. I can turn that magnetism stuff on and off. Or shield it, anyway.'
'You sure? What about your magnetic personality?'
'No problem, boss.'
I let him pull a tape, and he fired up the television. It wasn't long before we were watching The Wizard of Oz... I didn't understand a lot of it—there are all kinds of alien cultures—but most of the surfers seemed to know the thing word for word.
When Dorothy got to Oz and everything was suddenly in colour, I freeze-framed Munchkinland. The picture quivering on the screen looked just like the other one of Medium Rare's paintings I'd recognized at the Aquaricon. It looked just like Yewpitzkitziten.
I said, 'It looks like one of Medium Rare's paintings.'
'I told you,' Bill said. 'Oz.'
'Close enough,' I said.
