Chapter 29: Generosity Has a Certain Flair (Please Bookmark! Please Keep Reading!)

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“I’ll pay this time~” Ennie said with a smile.

That left Asimov and Puzo both bewildered.

Ennie then recounted the astonishing twists and turns that had finally led to his story, “At Dawn, Hear the Way,” being accepted by The Atlantic Monthly.

Asimov and Puzo were both somewhat dumbfounded.

They had never heard of such a submission experience before!

“That’s nearly a thousand dollars. No wonder it’s a top-tier magazine—they certainly pay generously,” Asimov said, unable to conceal his envy.

His own story, “The Dealer in Death,” submitted to Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, had also been accepted three days earlier. As an established writer whose work was of decent quality, he had received two cents per word. The story was roughly fifteen thousand words long, meaning he would earn around three hundred dollars.

That was more than three times less than Ennie’s payment.

Puzo was envious as well, but still said, “No matter how rich you are, I’m paying tonight.”

“Then… all right!”

Ennie did not insist. If one kept refusing to let others treat them, it would disregard the other person’s need to feel useful in the relationship—and that could hurt their feelings.

“Hey! What a coincidence running into you two~”

“I heard you’re going out to eat, right? Please, let me treat you. Do me the honor~”

Just as the three men were preparing to set off for hamburgers, a young man of roughly their age came jogging over from the opposite side of the street as the traffic light turned green. He wore black-rimmed glasses, had a bald patch covering a third of his forehead, and was clutching his trench coat around himself against the wind.

“Pohl?”

Ennie and Asimov both knew the young man. He was none other than Frederik Pohl, who had urged Asimov to hurry up with his manuscript at the candy store the previous time. He had since left Amazing Stories and become the young editor in chief of Super Science Stories.

Frederik Pohl’s cheeks were flushed, and he seemed rather excited. He pulled a magazine from inside his coat. It was unmistakably the latest issue of Amazing Stories.

“Ennie, I’ve read your ‘At Dawn, Hear the Way.’ It’s absolutely astonishing!”

“How much did Amazing Stories pay you? Whatever the amount, if you’re willing to give me your next story, I’ll pay you one cent more per word than John Campbell offers!”

When Ennie and Asimov heard Pohl’s words, they exchanged a glance.

So that was why he had come running over in the middle of the night—he was trying to poach their writer!

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Wait… how had Frederik Pohl found this place?

As for how he had learned Ennie’s address, Frederik Pohl merely smiled as though it were obvious.

“To secure an excellent author, I could find you even if you were fighting Nazis in Western Europe. I’d haul you out of a trench myself, let alone track down your home address!”

One had to admit that Pohl’s sincere hunger for talent was genuinely moving.

It was just a pity…

No matter how good the terms were, Ennie recognized only John Campbell.

Frederik Pohl was indeed a fine editor, but in terms of prestige, he was still far behind John Campbell.

As Ennie and Asimov had both agreed, unless they signed their work with John Campbell, they would always feel they had missed out.

“Sorry, Pohl. This isn’t about money.”

Hearing Ennie’s cold and heartless reply, Frederik Pohl was no fool. He saw through Ennie’s thoughts at once and said, thoroughly unconvinced, “Just how am I inferior to Campbell? Ennie, I’m never giving up on you.”

He turned and walked away, as though he had made some kind of solemn decision.

Ennie: “…”

…

Early the next morning.

Ennie’s family was eating breakfast.

As an indispensable accompaniment to every meal, that morning’s European Today was reporting the latest news from the war.

—The Battle of France was still raging. The French armored forces had already been defeated by the German Army Group A, and the German troops were continuing their advance southward, pursuing their victory and expanding their gains.

And just yesterday, Italy had finally declared war on Britain and France. As punishment for the Italians, Britain was preparing a bombing campaign against Italy in support of France.

George frowned. As the daily war reports reached the United States, the unease hanging over the country grew increasingly intense.

Mary, however, paid less attention to the war than George—or perhaps she simply tried not to listen to such unfavorable news, numbing herself through deliberate denial.

“George, you should be leaving for work!”

Mary’s attempt at self-deception was not complete, though. After hearing the latest report from the front, she urged George on with inexplicable irritation, then hurried to the balcony to do the laundry with a hand-operated washing machine.

George sighed. He glanced at the Ingersoll watch on his left wrist, its strap badly worn, and, seeing that it was nearly time, put on his shoes and left for work.

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Because workers needed to keep track of the time at all times, while checking a pocket watch during labor was inconvenient, George had bought an Ingersoll wristwatch two years earlier for one dollar and thirty cents.

It was a small American brand, incomparable to such famous names as Longines, Vacheron Constantin, Bulova, and Rolex. Its movements were the simplest available, while the case and strap were made from cheap metal, plastic, or leather. Its timekeeping was terribly inaccurate and required constant adjustment.

Its one advantage was its low price. Basic models generally cost only one or two dollars.

Naturally, George had worn this kind of “dollar watch” for years. In truth, what he really wanted was one of those high-performance watches from a major brand. But with prices often reaching hundreds of dollars, he could only dream of owning one.

Besides, even if George had enough savings to buy a watch, he might well have chosen instead to replace the family’s refrigerator with a larger, properly chilled model. That would have been far more practical.

Such were the troubles of a man…

Ennie thought to himself that now his royalties had arrived, he could buy George a new watch and cheer him up, perhaps keep him from thinking about the war all day long…

Though, in any case, worrying more would not change anything.

At the same time, he saw Mary struggling with the hand-operated washing machine on the balcony.

By this era, automatic washing machines already existed in the United States. They cost between one hundred and fifty and three hundred dollars, and most were twin-tub models. The washing and spinning functions were carried out in separate drums, meaning that once the clothes had been washed, they had to be moved manually into the other tub for spinning.

Even so, they greatly reduced the burden of housework.

“Mom, let’s go shopping at Macy’s. I want to buy you an automatic washing machine.”

“…What? An automatic washing machine!”

Mary froze for a moment, astonished and thrilled at once.

That afternoon.

Ennie, Mary, and Mishi got off a public bus and arrived at Macy’s flagship store, located in Midtown Manhattan at the intersection of Thirty-Fourth Street, Broadway, and Seventh Avenue. In later generations, it would be known as “the largest store in the world.”

They began by purchasing smaller items. Their first stop was the Rolex boutique, where they selected George a men’s Golden Oyster Perpetual Bubbleback watch worth one hundred and ninety-five dollars.

Then they bought Mishi a Victor radio costing sixty-five dollars, allowing her to listen to broadcasts anywhere in the house.

In the blink of an eye, they had spent a staggering two hundred and sixty dollars!

The fashionable young women in the department store could not help casting sidelong glances at Ennie.

The young man was already handsome to begin with. Add in the way he spent money so freely…

And he became even more handsome~

…

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