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Fantasy Fan, v. 1, issue 8, April 1934
Page 121
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April, 1934, THE FANTASY FAN 121 growing fear in my heart as time and again I looked over to my friend to see him typing like a robot, his foot on the floor, elbows in the air. Then my friend my only real pal, was going crazy--how that thought tortured me. I knew perfectly well that he didn't know any other language than English. Why in the wide world should he be clacking down something he didn't understand? It was just three thirty that suddenly Ross ripped the head-phones off and dropped them to the floor. He stood a moment looking at the paper in his hand and I noticed then that his skin was deadly white. I couldn't stand it anymore. I jerked off my own phones and ran to him. Call or no call, I couldn't stand by while my pal was in danger of losing his mind or something else as bad. "Norm!" I cried, "for God's sake! Tell me what it is! What--" But I didn't finish. With an explosion of curses, Ross crumpled the paper in his hand and began to walk up and down the room. He was so unconscious of everything else that he bumped squarely into me, reeled a moment, and then went on racing up and down feverishly. I tried to stop him--grabbed his arm and jerked it -- but Ross was a much bigger and stronger fellow than I am, and he went on without noticing me. He didn't shake me off, you understand, but just tore on as if he hadn't even felt my hand. I didn't say anything because I had lost my voice looking at the terrible picture of his face twisted in some agony of his mind. Then he began to speak, throwing his hands about hopelessly, and swinging his head like a maniac. While I--I just stood there, out of the path of his walk, panting like I had run ten miles, and listened. "Great God in Heaven," he cried in a voice that I hope never to hear again in reality, although I hear it every night in my tortured dreams. "It can't be......it's impossible...... I'm going mad......I am mad!......what did I ever do to deserve this?......how can it be? ho! how can it be?" For a while he just repeated those things until I wanted to scream out in frenzy. But I didn't do a thing. I could see he was beyond my reach -- beyond anybody's reach. Then his voice changed, it became low, full of intense energy, ominously quiet. "What did he say? He said the weather had become frigidly cold... that it would not be long..... that soon the Ice would cover the whole earth......" Then he stopped a moment, his eyes burned maniacally. "But......I know something about geology......that was over fifty thousand years ago......do you hear me?"--he wasn't talking to me, he was talking to himself--"do you get that?......fifty thousand years ago!" His voice became low and intense again so that my blood turned to water: "What did he say?......he said to his friend that the land was being flooded with creatures--maddened men and frenzied animals--that were retreating before the Ice......retreating before the ice...... the ice......but good God! I tell you that was fifty thousand years ago!" Then his voice became high-pitched and sobbing: "Oh! Dear Mary and Our One God! release me from this mad dream......save me from the destruction
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April, 1934, THE FANTASY FAN 121 growing fear in my heart as time and again I looked over to my friend to see him typing like a robot, his foot on the floor, elbows in the air. Then my friend my only real pal, was going crazy--how that thought tortured me. I knew perfectly well that he didn't know any other language than English. Why in the wide world should he be clacking down something he didn't understand? It was just three thirty that suddenly Ross ripped the head-phones off and dropped them to the floor. He stood a moment looking at the paper in his hand and I noticed then that his skin was deadly white. I couldn't stand it anymore. I jerked off my own phones and ran to him. Call or no call, I couldn't stand by while my pal was in danger of losing his mind or something else as bad. "Norm!" I cried, "for God's sake! Tell me what it is! What--" But I didn't finish. With an explosion of curses, Ross crumpled the paper in his hand and began to walk up and down the room. He was so unconscious of everything else that he bumped squarely into me, reeled a moment, and then went on racing up and down feverishly. I tried to stop him--grabbed his arm and jerked it -- but Ross was a much bigger and stronger fellow than I am, and he went on without noticing me. He didn't shake me off, you understand, but just tore on as if he hadn't even felt my hand. I didn't say anything because I had lost my voice looking at the terrible picture of his face twisted in some agony of his mind. Then he began to speak, throwing his hands about hopelessly, and swinging his head like a maniac. While I--I just stood there, out of the path of his walk, panting like I had run ten miles, and listened. "Great God in Heaven," he cried in a voice that I hope never to hear again in reality, although I hear it every night in my tortured dreams. "It can't be......it's impossible...... I'm going mad......I am mad!......what did I ever do to deserve this?......how can it be? ho! how can it be?" For a while he just repeated those things until I wanted to scream out in frenzy. But I didn't do a thing. I could see he was beyond my reach -- beyond anybody's reach. Then his voice changed, it became low, full of intense energy, ominously quiet. "What did he say? He said the weather had become frigidly cold... that it would not be long..... that soon the Ice would cover the whole earth......" Then he stopped a moment, his eyes burned maniacally. "But......I know something about geology......that was over fifty thousand years ago......do you hear me?"--he wasn't talking to me, he was talking to himself--"do you get that?......fifty thousand years ago!" His voice became low and intense again so that my blood turned to water: "What did he say?......he said to his friend that the land was being flooded with creatures--maddened men and frenzied animals--that were retreating before the Ice......retreating before the ice...... the ice......but good God! I tell you that was fifty thousand years ago!" Then his voice became high-pitched and sobbing: "Oh! Dear Mary and Our One God! release me from this mad dream......save me from the destruction
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