Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from Fantastic Universe August 1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
the amazing mrs. mimms
by ... David C. Knight
Tea had a wonderful effect on her. Sipping it slowly, she
felt the strength returning to her tired system.
There was a muffled rushing noise and the faintly acrid smell of ionelectrodes as the Time Translator deposited Mrs. Mimms back into theyear 1958. Being used to such journeys, she looked calmly about withquick gray eyes, making little flicking gestures with her hands as ifbrushing the stray minutes and seconds from her plain brown coat.
The scene of Mrs. Mimms' arrival in the past was the rear of a largesupermarket, more specifically between two packing cases which hadonce contained breakfast foods. The excursion through time hadevidently been a smooth one for the smile had not once left Mrs.Mimms' rotund countenance during the intervening centuries.
Two heavy black suitcases appeared to be the lady's only luggageaccompanying her from the future. These she picked up with a sharpgasp and made her way to the front of the shopping center around whichslick new apartment buildings formed a horseshoe.
Mrs. Mimms was, as usual, on another assignment for Destinyworkers,Inc.
It was early evening at the Greenlawn Apartments, a time supposedlyof contentment, yet Mrs. Mimms was quick to sense the disturbingvibrations in the warm air. She pressed through the crowds enteringand leaving the supermarket. A faint mustache of perspiration formedon her upper lip. No one offered to help her with the bags. With aprofessional eye Mrs. Mimms noted the drawn mouths, the tenseexpressions typical of the Time Zone and shook her head. Central asusual had not been wrong; the Briefing Officer himself had cautionedher on what poor shape the Zonal area was in.
Jostling Mrs. Mimms on all sides were mostly young men and womenaccompanied by energetic, wriggling children of varying ages. Itsaddened Mrs. Mimms to see the premature lines forming in the youthfulmothers' foreheads, and the gray settling too quickly into the men'shair. Mrs. Mimms, who considered herself not quite in the twilight ofmiddle age, was just 107 that month.
Outbursts of juvenile and adult temper grated harshly in theDestinyworker's ears. She witnessed a resounding slap and a child'scry of pain. A young mother was shouting angrily: "Couldn't you havekept an eye on her? Do I have to watch her every minute?"
Mrs. Mimms hurried swiftly on for there was much she had to do. Thenshe stopped abruptly before a small delicatessen. She entered and gavethe clerk her order:
"One package of Orange Pekoe Tea, if you please. Tea leaves, notbags."
There were definite advantages, thought Mrs. Mimms, in being assignedto any century preceding the Twenty-Third. Due to the increasing useof synthetic products in Mrs. Mimms' home-century the tea plant, amongother vegetation, had been allowed to become extinct. Ever since Mrs.Mimms'