“It’s just as well. Walking so much made my feet hurt--they just wouldn’t stand it.” He sighed heavily. “Maybe that’s why I’m in 4-F, too. That and my weight--my heart. But that’s nothing serious--” “Oh well, that’s fine,” I agreed. “But now--you’ve got some other trouble?” * * * * * The haunted look came back into his earnest eyes. “I’ll have to tell you,” he agreed. “After all, that’s what I came here for.” He gulped. “Listen,” he said, “hang onto yourself--you’ll get a shock. The thing hit me just about a week ago. Like a bolt from the blue--I didn’t have any warning at all. I was feeling perfectly all right, honest.” “What hit you?” I prompted. “I was just sitting by the window of my boarding house room.” His voice had that awed, solemn tone like you use telling a ghost story. “When all of a sudden I wasn’t myself at all. I was sitting in the chair all right--I knew that. But also I was a man walking down the street past my window.” “You were--what?” “A man walking past my window,” he repeated drably. “A perfectly strange man--and I was worried because I was late getting home and my wife’d give me hell. I was henpecked, scared to death of her, see?” “No, I don’t see,” I declared. His fat hands made a hopeless gesture. “Well, that’s what I mean, Ray. You think I’m crazy. That’s why I can’t go see a doctor. He’d just slam me into an asylum or something.” His chubby hands reached out and gripped my arm. “Listen--you’ve got to believe me. Anyway--I can show you--give you a demonstration--it’s easy enough.” “Is it?” I said. “Sure it is. You see, my ego, id, personality or something, doesn’t seem to want to stay put in my body any more. It--it wants to wander--” “Let’s get this straight,” I interrupted. “You say you suddenly usurped the mind and body of some strange man walking down the street--” “Yes, that’s it! Usurpsed! That’s a good word, Ray. I was sort of conscious that he was confused, too--my usurping him that way. He kind of resented it for a second or two--and then I guess he went blank. Anyway, I was in full control--” “And what did you do? With him, I mean.” “Oh. Well, I remember I decided I wouldn’t bother going back to my wife--his wife, I mean.” I could only nod. “So I went into a Bar and Grill and started to absorb whiskeys and soda and to the devil with his wife.” “And then?” I prompted. “Well, I can remember getting pretty blurry eventually. Seems like I was telling the bartender all my secret thoughts about the wife.” He smiled wryly. “And then I--well, you can’t blame me, Ray--it occurred to me I might be getting into some sort of jam. So I just--withdrew.” “Withdrew?” “I gave that little fellow back his body,” Porky said. He shrugged. “What else could I do? I just jerked myself back to my own body--in the chair by the window, see?”