SORRY:
Wrong Dimension
BY ROSS ROCKLYNNE
So the baby had a pet monster. And so nobody butbaby could see it. And so a couple of men droppedout of thin air to check and see if the monsterwas licensed or not. So what's strange about that?
Baby didn't cry all day, becausehe had a monster for a playmate.But I didn't know he had aplaymate, and much less did Iknow it was a monster. The honesttruth is that for the first timesince baby was born, I had mynerves under control, and I didn'tdare investigate why he wasn'tcrying. I got all the ironing done—allof it, mind you—and I gotHarry's work-clothes mended andI also read three installments ofa Saturday Evening Post serial I'dbeen saving. And besides thisMabel, my neighbor, and I had acouple or three cups of coffee. Wealso had a giggling fit. I rememberonce we went off into hysterics atthe picture of ourselves we had—twohaggard old wrecks of women,worn out at twenty-three from toomuch work around the house."But thank Heavens baby hasn'tcried all day!" I gurgled when wecame out of it.
"Neither has mine," said Mabel,who isn't due for six months.
"Mabel, honest, you kill me,"I said, "and excuse me while Icomb my messy hair—becauseI'm not a wreck. Harry said so.He says I'm still the best hunk offemale pulchritude he's met sincehigh school—and we've beenmarried two years!"
I went into the bathroom leavingMabel choking hystericallybehind me. When I came out ofthe bathroom, she was hystericalbut in a different way. She'd discoveredwhy Harry, Jr., wasn'tcrying. She'd been in the nursery.Her face was white as an egg-shell.
"He's playing with something,"she chattered. "It's alive. I heardit cooing back."
I ran three steps to baby's crib... one on the corner of LittleJack Horner, one on the sheep ofLittle Bo Peep, one on the cupboardof Old Mother Hubbard."Baby!" I almost screamed. Butbaby cooed and gurgled andlaughed and rocked back andforth on his diapers. He was playingwith his teething ring, butsomething was trying to jerk theteething ring out of his hands.And baby liked it.
Baby lost his hold on the teethingring, and fell on his back. Theteething ring stayed up in the airand then by itself moved towardbaby's waving hands and let himget a hold of it.
Mabel screeched through herteeth, "Baby's got it, the monster'sgot it, now baby's got it!"She began to collapse.
"Don't faint," I snapped, "anddon't let's play tennis." I wasshaking. I reached into the crib.My hands closed around somethingthat put ice-water in myvertebrae. It was a monster.
"It's got fur!" I whispered. Ifelt some more. "And clammyscales!" I lifted it out of the crib."And a trunk!" I was determinedto save baby. Baby cried!
We got some chairs and satthere for ten minutes close togetherwhile baby played with theinvisible monster. "I don't knowwhat to do!" I said. "It's alive.Maybe it's poisonous. But it'sfriendly. Maybe it's another baby!"
"From another dimension," saidMabel.
"Rot," I said; I think I pickedthat up from the detective in theSaturday Evening Post serial."Let's keep our heads."
"If baby keeps his," said myfriend Mabel.
That got me. "I'vegot to call Harry," I chattered."They don't like him to be calledat work, but I've got to call him."
"You'll just worry him," saidMabel. "Call the police."
"No!" I said. I felt like cryingmyself. Baby was so h