Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 50 — page 100: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ONE HOUR I’m a big boy, really. I can look after myself.” He closed the classroom door. “Why did everybody run away, Papa Jones?’’ Maria’s daughter asked. He thought about his an- swer. They wouldn’t under- stand he decided. ““Because the wireless issued a warning. They thought everybody round here could try to get away.” He measured his steps down the worn stairs into the play- ground. “But why has everybody gone home except us?’’ she pressed him. “‘Will they get away?” she mimicked his words. “T don’t think that any of them will get away,” he ex- plained. ‘“‘And you,” he waved his hand to include all three children, “‘couldn’t get home nor go in the cars with the others. There wasn’t room for everybody.” He didn’t say that the burst of machine gun fire had toid him the story that they were ail already dead. The *bus load of chil- 99 dren and mothers hadn’t gone far when the ‘plane had blocked the road and escape for others with the gun. At this side of the schoo] you couldn’t see the pall of smoke which drifted up from the burning bodies in the overturned bus. You needn’t see the cars with their dead passengers. The driver without a face, still clutching the wheel of the car. He mustn’t think of these things he told himself. It was only five minutes to four o’clock, Not long to go now, and he must make them happy in those five minutes. His hand was being shaken to attract his attention. ““Why can’t we go home?’ Three eager little faces looked up at him. He smiled and from somewhere he found a new strength. He was strangely happy. He was glad they had been able to have this hour together, doing the things they had always done. Their bodies would have been mangled up on the road there if he had done what seemed to be the sensible comicloooks.com