Ira Levin - The Stepford Wives

"Do you know what Jeremy's allowance is?" Pete said.

"He's two years older than you are," Walter said.

"THIS IS GOING TO SOUND crazy, but I want you to listen to me without laughing, because either I'm right or I'm going off my rocker and need sympathy." Bobbie picked at the bun of her cheeseburger.

Joanna, watching her, swallowed cheeseburger and said, "All right, go ahead."

They were at the McDonald's on Eastbridge Road, eating in the car.

Bobbie took a small bite of her cheeseburger, and chewed and swallowed.

"There was a thing in Time a few weeks ago," she said. "I looked for it but I must have thrown the issue out." She looked at Joanna. "They have a very low crime rate in El Paso, Texas," she said. "I think it was El Paso. Anyway, somewhere in Texas they have a very low crime rate, much lower than anywhere else in Texas; and the reason is, there's a chemical in the ground that gets into the water, and it tranquilizes everybody and eases the tension. God's truth."

"I think I remember," Joanna said, nodding, holding her cheeseburger.

"Joanna," Bobbie said, "I think there's something here. In Stepford. It's possible, isn't it? All those fancy plants on Route Nine-electronics, computers, aerospace junk, with Stepford Creek running right behind them-who knows what kind of crap they're dumping into the environment."

"What do You mean?" Joanna said.

"Just think for a minute," Bobbie said. She fisted her free hand and stuck out its pinky. "Charmaine's changed and become a hausfrau," she said.

She stuck out her ring finger. "The woman you spoke to, the one who was president of the club; she changed, didn't she, from what she must have been before?"

Joanna nodded.

Bobbie's next finger flicked out. "The woman Charmaine played tennis with, before you; she changed too, Charmaine said so."

Joanna frowned. She took a French fry from the bag between them. "You think it's-because of a chemical?" she said.

Bobbie nodded. "Either leaking from one of those plants, or just around, like in El Paso or wherever." She took her coffee from the dashboard. "It has to be," she said. "It can't be a coincidence that Stepford women are all the way they are. And some of the ones we spoke to must have belonged to that club. A few years ago they were applauding Betty Friedan, and look at them now. They've changed too."

Joanna ate the French fry and took a bite of her cheeseburger. Bobbie took a bite of her cheeseburger and sipped her coffee.

"There's something," Bobbie said. "In the ground, in the water, in the air-I don't know. It makes women interested in housekeeping and nothing else but. Who knows what chemicals can do? Nobel-prize winners don't even really know yet. Maybe it's some kind of hormone thing; that would explain the fantastic boobs. You've got to have noticed."

"I sure have," Joanna said. "I feel pre-adolescent every time I set foot in the market."

"I do, for God's sake," Bobbie said. She put her coffee on the dashboard and took French fries from the bag. "Well?" she said.

"I suppose it's-possible," Joanna said. "But it sounds so -fantastic." She took her coffee from the dashboard; it had made a patch of fog on the windshield.

"No more fantastic than El Paso," Bobbie said.

"More," Joanna said. "Because it affects only women. What does Dave think?"

"I haven't mentioned it to him yet. I thought I'd try it out on you first."

Joanna sipped her coffee. "Well it's in the realm of possibility," she said. "I don't think you're off your rocker. Ile thing to do, I guess, is write a very level-headed-sounding letter to the State-what, Department of Health? Environmental Commission? Whatever agency would have the authority to look into it. We could find out at the library."

Bobbie shook her head. "Mm-mmn," she said. "I worked for a government agency; forget it. I think the thing to do is move out. Then futz around with letters."

Joanna looked at her.

"I mean it," Bobbie said. "Anything that can make a hausfrau out of Charmaine isn't going to have any special trouble with me. Or with you."

"Oh come on," Joanna said.

"There's something here, Joanna! I'm not kidding! This is Zombieville! And Charmaine moved in in July, I moved in in August, and you moved in in September!"

"All right, quiet down, I can hear."

Bobbie took a large-mouthed bite of her cheeseburger. Joanna sipped her coffee and frowned.

"Even if I'm wrong," Bobbie said with her mouth full, "even if there's no chemical doing anything"-she swallowed-"is this where you really want to live? We've each got one friend now, you after two months, me after three.

Is that your idea of the ideal community? I went into Norwood to get my hair done for your party; I saw a dozen women who were rushed and sloppy and irritated and alive; I wanted to hug every one of them!"

"Find friends in Norwood," Joanna said, smiling. "You've got the car."

"You're so damn independent!" Bobbie took her coffee from the dashboard.

"I'm asking Dave to move," she said. "We'll sell here and buy in Norwood or Eastbridge; all it'll mean is some headaches and bother and the moving costs -for which, if he insists, I'll hock the rock."

"Do you think he'll agree?"

"He damn well better had, or his life is going to get mighty miserable.

I wanted to buy in Norwood all along; too many WASPs, he said. Well I'd rather get stung by WASPs than poisoned by whatever's working around here. So you're going to be down to no friends at all in a little while-unless you speak to Walter."

"About moving?"

Bobbie nodded. Looking at Joanna, she sipped her coffee.

Joanna shook her head. "I couldn't ask him to move again," she said.

"Why not? He wants you to be happy, doesn't he?"

"I'm not sure that I'm not. And I just finished the darkroom."

"Okay," Bobbie said, "stick around. Turn into your nextdoor neighbor."

"Bobbie, it can't be a chemical. I mean it could, but I honestly don't believe it. Honestly."

They talked about it while they finished eating, and then they drove up Eastbridge Road and turned onto Route Nine. They passed the shopping mall and the antique stores, and came to the industrial plants.

"Poisoner's Row," Bobbie said.

Joanna looked at the neat low modern buildings, set back from the road and separated each from the next by wide spans of green lawn: Ulitz Optics (where Herb Sundersen worked), and CompuTech (Vic Stavros, or was he with Instatron?), and Stevenson Biochemical, and HaigDarling Computers, and Burnham-Massey-Microtech (Dale Coba-hiss!-and Claude Axhelm), and Instatron, and Reed amp; Saunders (Bill McCormick-how was Marge?), and Vesey Electronics, and AmeriChem Willis.

"Nerve-gas research, I'll bet you five bucks."

"In a populated area?"

"Why not? With that gang in Washington?"

"Oh come on, Bobbie!"

WALTER SAW SOMETHING WAS bothering her and asked her about it. She said, "You've got the Koblenz agreement to do," but he said, "I've got all weekend. Come on, what is it?"

So while she scraped the dishes and put them in the washer, she told him about Bobbie's wanting to move, and her " El Paso " theory.

"That sounds pretty far-fetched to me," he said.

"To me too," she said. "But women do seem to change around here, and what they change into is pretty damn dull. If Bobbie moves, and if Charmaine doesn't come back to her old self, which at least was-"

"Do you want to move?" he asked.

She looked uncertainly at him. His blue eyes, waiting for her answer, gave no clue to his feelings. "No," she said, "not when we're all settled irL It's a good house… And yes, I'm sure I'd be happier in Eastbridge or Norwood. I wish we'd looked in either one of them."

"There's an unequivocal answer," he said, smiling. "'No and yes."'