{"id":6604,"date":"2023-04-05T14:20:50","date_gmt":"2023-04-05T14:20:50","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sfshortstories.com\/?p=6604"},"modified":"2023-04-05T14:20:53","modified_gmt":"2023-04-05T14:20:53","slug":"lot-by-ward-moore","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sfshortstories.com\/?p=6604","title":{"rendered":"Lot by Ward Moore"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Lot <\/em><\/strong>by Ward Moore (F&SF<\/em>, May 1953)1<\/sup> opens with Mr Jimmon telling the rest of his family that it is time to get in the car and leave their house. For the first few paragraphs it appears as if the family is about to go on vacation\u2014but we soon discover there is a unspecified crisis, that the water and electricity have stopped flowing, and the family station wagon is fully loaded. Then, as they set off:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n

He opened the door on the driver\u2019s side, got in, turned the key, and started the motor. Then he said casually over his shoulder, \u201cPut the dog out, Jir.\u201d
Wendell protested, too quickly, \u201cWaggie\u2019s not here.\u201d
Molly exclaimed, \u201cOh, David…\u201d
Mr. Jimmon said patiently, \u201cWe\u2019re losing pretty valuable time. There\u2019s no room for the dog; we have no food for him. If we had room we could have taken more essentials; those few pounds might mean the difference.\u201d
\u201cCan\u2019t find him,\u201d muttered Jir.
\u201cHe\u2019s not here. I tell you he\u2019s not here,\u201d shouted Wendell, tearful voiced.
\u201cIf I have to stop the motor and get him myself we\u2019ll be wasting still more time and gas.\u201d Mr. Jimmon was still detached, judicial. \u201cThis isn\u2019t a matter of kindness to animals. It\u2019s life and death.\u201d
Erika said evenly, \u201cDad\u2019s right, you know. It\u2019s the dog or us. Put him out, Wend.\u201d
\u201cI tell you\u2014\u201d Wendell began.
\u201cGot him!\u201d exclaimed Jir. \u201cOkay, Waggie! Outside and good luck.\u201d
The spaniel wriggled ecstatically as he was picked up and put out through the open window. Mr. Jimmon raced the motor, but it didn\u2019t drown out Wendell\u2019s anguish. He threw himself on his brother, hitting and kicking. Mr. Jimmon took his foot off the gas, and as soon as he was sure the dog was away from the wheels, eased the station wagon out of the driveway and down the hill toward the ocean.\u00a0 p. 102-103<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

Most of the remainder of the story consists of a long road trip where Jimmon\u2019s internal thoughts take centre stage. These cover: (a) the crisis (there has been a nuclear war where several cities have destroyed and he is taking his family to sanctuary in a remote location); (b) the grudge he has against his wife and the life that was forced on him; (c) whether or not his family are capable of surviving in this new world order (he concludes that his wife and two sons\u2014\u201cparasites\u201d\u2014are too attached to civilization, but thinks that his daughter Erika will manage); and (d) his concern about their slow progress through the traffic they encounter. Throughout this Jimmon reveals himself to be a disagreeable mix of prepper and misanthrope.
As the journey lengthens, discontent erupts\u2014partially for the usual reasons (they have been cooped up together for hours), and partially because of others, such as requests to stop for the toilet (which Jimmon repeatedly ignores):<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n

By the time they were halfway to Gaviota or Goleta\u2014 Mr. Jimmon could never tell them apart\u2014foresight and relentless sternness began to pay off. Those who had left Los Angeles without preparation and in panic were dropping out or slowing down, to get gas or oil, repair tires, buy food, seek rest rooms. The station wagon was steadily forging ahead.
He gambled on the old highway out of Santa Barbara. Any kind of obstruction would block its two lanes; if it didn\u2019t he would be beating the legions on the wider, straighter road. There were stretches now where he could hit 50; once he sped a happy half-mile at 65.
Now the insubordination crackling all around gave indication of simultaneous explosion. \u201cI really,\u201d began Molly, and then discarded this for a fresher, firmer start. \u201cDavid, I don\u2019t understand how you can be so utterly selfish and inconsiderate.\u201d
Mr. Jimmon could feel the veins in his forehead begin to swell, but this was one of those rages that didn\u2019t show.
\u201cBut, dad, would ten minutes ruin everything?\u201d asked Erika.
\u201cMonomania,\u201d muttered Jir. \u201cSingle track. Like Hitler.\u201d
\u201cI want my dog,\u201d yelped Wendell. \u201cDirty old dog-killer.\u201d
\u201cDid you ever hear of cumulative\u2014\u201d Erika had addressed him reasonably; surely he could make her understand?
\u201cDid you ever hear of cumulative…?\u201d What was the word? Snowball rolling downhill was the image in his mind. \u201cOh, what\u2019s the use??\u201d\u00a0 p. 110-111<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

The story comes to a conclusion when Jimmon finally pulls into a deserted filling station so they can refuel. Here Jimmon is overcharged by the attendant, but he cares as little for the money he hands over as he did about a traffic ticket he got earlier from a policeman for driving on the wrong side of the road. When the family come back out from the station\u2019s toilets (spoiler), Jimmon gives his wife a wad of cash and tells her to phone the couple they know, and also gets the boys to go after their mother to get some candy bars. Then he tells Erika to get in the car and drives off without them.
I was lukewarm about this story when I first read it years ago but thought it much better this time around. The dark internal monologue of the story (a darkness which is mirrored by external events) is quite notable for the period, as are the brief mentions or allusions to childhood sex play, adultery, and abortion (there is also a faint glimmer of incest here, and I wonder if this is developed in the sequel, Lot\u2019s Daughter<\/em>2<\/sup>).
Finally, I was genuinely surprised by the shock ending\u2014which I think makes the story (it seems as if something unpleasant is about to happen to the attendant but, after what happened to the dog, and given Jimmon\u2019s opinion of his family members, I should have realised what was coming).
**** (Very Good). 9,900 words. Story link<\/a>.

1. This story was published six months after another notable Ward Moore piece, the alternate world novella\/novel Bring the Jubilee<\/em> (F&SF<\/em>, November 1952).

2. I haven\u2019t read Lot\u2019s Daughter<\/em> (F&SF<\/em>, October 1954) yet, but my suspicions about where the story may be going seem to be borne out by the biblical story of Lot<\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Lot by Ward Moore (F&SF, May 1953)1 opens with Mr Jimmon telling the rest of his family that it is time to get in the car and leave their house. For the first few paragraphs it appears as if the family is about to go on vacation\u2014but we soon discover there is a unspecified crisis, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1550],"tags":[62,101,25,7,1549,1552,1551],"class_list":["post-6604","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-ward-moore","tag-62","tag-101","tag-fsf","tag-novelette","tag-post-nuclear-apocalypse","tag-survival-of-the-fittest","tag-ward-moore"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfshortstories.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6604","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfshortstories.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfshortstories.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfshortstories.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfshortstories.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=6604"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/sfshortstories.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6604\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6625,"href":"https:\/\/sfshortstories.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6604\/revisions\/6625"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfshortstories.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6604"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfshortstories.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6604"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfshortstories.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6604"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}