Time Out of Joint by Philip K. Dick

her and she entered the house. "Sit down," he said, "if you want. I’ll go get him."
    "Thank you very much, Mr. Nielson," she said. She seated herself near the door, on a straight-backed chair, her binder and literature on her lap. The house, warm and pleasant, smelled of dinner. Not such a good time to drop by, she told herself. Too close to the dinner hour. But she could see the table in the dining room; they had not sat down yet. An attractive woman with brown hair was setting the table. The woman glanced at her questioningly. Mrs. Keitelbein nodded back.
    And then Ragle Gumm came along the hall toward her.
    A charity drive, he decided as soon as he saw her. "Yes?" he said, steeling himself.
    The drab, earnest-faced woman arose from the chair. "Mr. Gumm," she said, "I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m here for CD. Civil Defense."
    "I see," he said.
    She explained that she lived down the street. Listening, he wondered why she had selected him, not Vic. Probably because of his fame. He had got a number of proposals in the mail, proposals that he contribute his winnings to causes that would survive him.
    "I am at home during the day," he admitted, when she had finished. "But I’m working. I’m self-employed."
    "Just an hour or two a week," Mrs. Keitelbein said.
    That didn’t seem like much. "Doing what?" he said. "I don’t have a car, if you’re thinking of drivers." Once the Red Cross had come by appealing for volunteer drivers.
    Mrs. Keitelbein said, "No, Mr. Gumm, it’s a class in instruction for disaster."
    That struck him as being apt. "What a good idea," he said.
    "Pardon me?"
    He said, "Instruction for disaster. Sounds fine. Any special kind of disaster?"
    "CD works whenever there’s a disaster from floods or windstorms. Of course, it’s the hydrogen bomb that we’re all so concerned about, especially now that the Soviet Union has those new ICBM missiles. What we want to do is train individuals in each part of the city to know what to do when disaster strikes. Administer first aid, speed the evacuation, know what food is probably contaminated and what food isn’t. For instance, Mr. Gumm, each family should lay in a seven-day store of food, including a seven-day store of fresh water."
    Dubious still, he said, "Well, leave me your number and I’ll give it some thought."
    With her pencil Mrs. Keitelbein wrote out her name, address, and phone number at the bottom of a pamphlet. "Mrs. Black next door suggested your name," she said.
    "Oh," he said. And it occurred to him instantly that Junie saw it as a means by which they could meet. "A number of individuals from this neighborhood will be attending instruction, I take it," he said.
    "Yes," Mrs. Keitelbein said. "At least we hope they will."
    "Put me down," he said. "I’m sure I can make it to class one or two hours a week."
    Thanking him, Mrs. Keitelbein departed. The door closed after her.
    Good for Junie, he said to himself.
    And now dinner.
    "You mean you signed up?" Margo demanded, as they seated themselves at the table.
    "Why not?" he said. "It’s common sense and patriotic."
    "But you’re over your head in your contest."
    "Couple hours a week won’t make any difference," he said.
    "You make me feel guilty," Margo sighed. "I’ve got nothing to do all day, and you have. I should go. Maybe I will."
    "No," he said, not wanting her along. Not if it was going to work out as a means of seeing Junie. "You’re not invited. Just me."
    "That seems unfair," Vic said. "Can’t women be patriots?"
    Sammy spoke up, "I’m a patriot. Back in the clubhouse we’ve got the best atomic cannon in the United States, and it’s trained to Moscow." He created explosion-noises in the back of his mouth.
    "How’s the crystal set coming?" Ragle said.
    "Swell," Sammy said. "It’s finished."
    "What have you picked up?"
    "Nothing so far," Sammy said, "but I’m just about to."
    "You let us know when you do," Vic said.
    "I just have a few adjustments to complete," Sammy