The Criminal

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The Criminal Page 4

by Jim Thompson


  “I’ll tell you, Martha,” she said. “If I’d cut up and talked back to my mother, like Josie does to—”

  “And my mother,” I said. “Why, Fay, it just simply never would have occurred to me to behave around my mother like Bob—”

  “Martha,” she said, “what about some coffee? I’ve got some of those nice fresh pecan rolls you always used to like so much.”

  “Why I’d love to,” I said.

  Well, I went in, and we had coffee and rolls and a nice little talk. Fay can be a very nice person when she wants to, and I’d be the first to admit it.

  It was almost noon before I remembered that I was supposed to have seen Miss Brundage at eleven.

  I jumped up and said I simply had to go, and Fay said, oh, why didn’t I let the shopping go until tomorrow. But I guess she knew where I was really going, so she just argued enough to be polite. As I say, Fay can be nice.

  I hurried on toward the school, and even if I was late for my appointment I can’t say when I’ve felt so good. You wouldn’t have thought I was the same woman that had been all fly-to-pieces a couple of hours ago.

  It’s like that with me. Bad beginning, good ending. Foul start, fine finish.

  It’s almost always like that with me.

  4

  Martha Talbert

  I reached the school just as the noon bells were ringing, and if I didn’t look a fright it wasn’t my fault. I’d practically galloped every step of the way from Fay’s house because there’s just no sense in people being late for appointments, and I never am when I can possibly avoid it. Well, as I was saying, I know I must have looked a fright what with all that running and then having to climb three flights of stairs and squeezing past eight or nine hundred kids who were trying to beat each other to the cafeteria, but that certainly didn’t give Miss Brundage any right to act like I was something the cat dragged in. She was coming out of her classroom—Bob’s home room—as I started in, and she kept right on coming out. Barely nodding to me, kind of pushing me out of her way.

  “I’m very sorry you couldn’t keep our appointment, Mrs. Talbert,” she said. “I’m afraid that, unless you can wait until after three…”

  “Wait until after three!” I said. “Why, of course, I can’t.”

  “Perhaps we’d better make it tomorrow, then. Between eleven and twelve. I believe I explained—didn’t I?—that it was the only hour of the day I had free.”

  “Well, of all things!” I said. “You’re free now, aren’t you? You don’t have anything to do now that I can see!”

  “Yes,” she said. “I do have something to do now. I have to eat my lunch.”

  She gave me a cool little nod and started down the hall and, honestly, it was all I could do not to grab her and shake her right out of her dress. Really, you know, you’d have thought she was the president of the United States or something and I was I-don’t-know-what. And just what was all the fuss about, pray tell? It was my lunch hour, too, wasn’t it? I hadn’t had any lunch yet, either, and you didn’t see me acting like the world was going to come to an end if I didn’t eat right that minute.

  “Now, just a minute, Miss Brundage,” I said, and I ran and caught up with her. “If you please, Miss Brundage! You asked me to come here today, and I came, and now that I’m here I’m—”

  “Our appointment was at eleven, Mrs. Talbert. I’m sure I explained—”

  “Well, I couldn’t get here at eleven,” I said. “I got here just as fast as I could and I almost broke my neck doing it. I thought it was something very, very important the way you acted, and if I’d known it wasn’t anything that really mattered, that you didn’t want to bother with until you could take your own sweet time about it—well, believe me I had plenty of other things I could do. I’m not like some of you young girls with nothing to think about but getting your lunch on time and how you can doll yourselves all up like the president of the United States or something. I tell you teachers weren’t like that, in my day. They knew how to handle their jobs, and they weren’t always calling parents up every five minutes and writing notes and…”

  I laid it into her. I told that young lady a few things she’d be a long time forgetting.

  She stood staring at me, her mouth opening and closing, her face getting redder and redder.

  “All right,” she said finally, her voice so low I could hardly hear it. “I’ll be very happy to talk to you now. I have a feeling that, in view of your opinion of me, there isn’t a great deal to be said, but—”

  “Go on,” I said. “What’s Bob supposed to have done now?”

  “It’s more what he hasn’t done, Mrs. Talbert. He’s done almost no work since the term started. He’s failing in every one of his subjects.”

  “Why, I—well, why do you let him?” I said. “He’s a smart boy. Why don’t you see that he studies?”

  “Mrs. Talbert,” she said, “the teachers in this school have an average class load of sixty students, approximately twice the number they should have. We can’t spend all our time with one pupil or even a very large part of our time.”

  “Well, goodness,” I said. “No one asked you to. You don’t have to, if you know your business. Why, when I was in school, there was only one teacher for six grades and she—”

  “No doubt,” she said. “I’m sure she was much more efficient than we teachers are now. To get back to the present, however, Robert is failing in his work and we don’t seem to be able to help him. We wondered whether there wasn’t something you and Mr. Talbert could do.”

  “Well, I don’t know,” I said. “We’ll certainly do anything we can, I’ll give Bob a good talking to, and—”

  “He seems to be very preoccupied and moody. Is there—uh—a situation at home which might tend to disturb him?”

  “Why, of course, there isn’t!” I said. “If there’s anything wrong anywhere, it’s right here at school. And if you ask me, you don’t have to look very far to see what it is.”

  She pressed her lips together. “Mrs. Talbert,” she said. “I’m only trying to help—”

  “Well, don’t trouble yourself,” I said. “We don’t need any advice about how to run our family. What else is Bob supposed to have done?”

  “He’s supposed,” she said, “to attend school five days a week. Five days, Mrs. Talbert. Not two or three.”

  “Well,” I said, “he does, doesn’t he? I mean, I know he’s been sick a lot, but—”

  “He has been sick, then, Mrs. Talbert?” There was a mean, funny little grin on her face. “You did write the excuses he brought us?”

  “Why—well, naturally,” I said. “When he’s sick and has to stay at home, I write an excuse.”

  “I see,” she said, that little grin getting meaner and tighter. “Well, why don’t we do this, Mrs. Talbert? Why don’t you and I and Bob all get together and see if we can’t talk this thing out?”

  I said that suited me just fine, the sooner the better. “Of course, I wouldn’t think of asking you to miss your lunch, Miss Brundage. But—”

  “I’ve already missed it,” she said, “I’m afraid it’s too late to eat now. So if you’d like to telephone home, and summon Robert from his sickbed, perhaps we can talk a few minutes before my afternoon classes start.”

  I didn’t understand what she meant for a moment. It simply hadn’t occurred to me that Bob hadn’t gone to school, and the way she’d led me on, tricking me into making a fool of myself, well, I felt like choking her.

  “Well?” she said. “Would you like to do that, Mrs. Talbert?”

  “No,” I said, and believe me if looks could have killed, that young woman would have been dead. “No, I would not like to do that, Miss Brundage. But there’s something I would like to do. I’d like to know why we have to pay big taxes without getting anything for it but some snotty young girl to insult us. I’d like to know why we can’t get teachers who think about something besides powdering their noses and putting every nickel they make on their backs
and—”

  “Mrs. Talbert,” she said. “Mrs. Talbert!”

  “Well, what?” I said. “You don’t need to yell at me!”

  “I’m a teacher, Mrs. Talbert, not a prison warden. I can’t compel Robert to study and I can’t keep him from playing truant. But I can—and I will, if you persist in your present attitude—I can and will see that action is taken by the proper authorities.”

  “Well, well,” I said. “Now, let me tell you something Miss High-and-mighty. My husband and I—”

  “There are compulsory attendance laws in this state, Mrs. Talbert. A parent who willfully allows a child to remain out of school is subject to heavy penalties.”

  “And wouldn’t you love that!” I said.

  “Yes,” she nodded slowly. “I believe I would.”

  She turned and walked away, then, and it was a good thing for her that she did! I started after her, but then I thought, oh, well, what’s the use? Anyone like that, it’s a waste of breath to talk to ’em.

  I left the school and walked back to the shopping center. I tried on a few pair of shoes and two coats and several hats, and got a book from the lending library. Then, I went into the drug store and ordered some pie and a cup of coffee. I wasn’t at all hungry, really, even though I hadn’t had hardly a bite to eat all day. But the lady sitting next to me, she was having an olive-nut triple-deck with cream cheese and it looked so good, I decided to have one, too. And somehow this lady and I got to talking—she was telling me about a perfectly marvelous diet she’d been on—and we had some more coffee and a chocolate sundae apiece, and the first thing we knew, it was almost three o’clock.

  I started home, getting some milk and bread from the grocery first. I was almost there when, lo and behold, who should pop up in front of me suddenly but Mr. Bob Talbert. We saw each other at the same time, and did that young man look sheepish! Then, he put on a grin and tried to act like he was just getting home from school.

  “Hi, Mom,” he said. “Let me carry that stuff for you.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t think of it,” I said. “After all, you’ve been studying all day, bending over your books until you’re all worn out. You—oh, Bob, how could you? Aren’t you ever going to straighten up and behave like a boy should?”

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I won’t do it any more, Mom.”

  “Well, I should hope not!” I said. “Where on earth did you go anyway? Where have you been?”

  “Out to the golf links. I was going to caddy—g-get some money to buy Dad a present.”

  I looked at him. Honestly, you know! Sometimes you’d think that boy didn’t have a brain in his head. “Buy him a present?” I said. “What in the world for? It’s not his birthday or anything.”

  “I just wanted to,” he muttered. “I don’t know why.”

  “Well, you certainly put me in a pretty pickle,” I said. “I went up to see your teacher, and naturally I supposed you were there—what in the world would I be supposed to suppose?—and she and I started going around and around and—”

  “Aw, Mom,” he said. “For gosh sake, what’d you do that for? She’s—Miss Brundage’s the only one up there that’s got any sense or ever acts half-way decent and you have to—”

  “Well, for pity’s sake!” I said. “You make a fool out of me with your hooky-playing, and then it’s my fault. I’m in the wrong!”

  “Well, gosh,” he said. “Gee whiz, Mom!”

  I told him he’d better gosh and gee-whiz. And he’d better start studying and stop playing truant or he’d wish he had.

  “The idea, just wandering off wherever you please and whenever you please! Did you make any money?”

  “Huh-uh.” He shook his head without looking at me. “Too many other caddies around. Not enough people playing.”

  “Well, that’s nice, isn’t it?” I said, “You lay out of school all day and walk eight or ten miles, just as if shoe leather didn’t cost anything, and you don’t have a nickel to show for it. That’s certainly smart, that is!”

  “Well, all right!” he said. “All right! I said I wouldn’t do it any more, didn’t I?”

  “You just bet you won’t,” I said. “Now hush up that yelling before Mrs. Eddleman hears you. Hush up and act like you’ve got some sense for a change.”

  Fay was out in front of her house, of course. When was she ever any other place? She said, “Hi, Martha, Bob. Did you see Josie at school today, Bob?”

  “Huh?” Bob stared at her like a big goop, like he wanted her to know he’d been playing hooky. “What’d you say, Miz Eddleman?”

  “I asked you if you’d seen Jo—”

  “The cat’s got his tongue, Fay,” I laughed. “He always gets that way whenever anyone mentions Josie. He saw her all right. I just got through asking him myself.”

  “Aren’t kids funny?” Fay laughed, too. “Well, I guess she’ll be along pretty soon. It’s still early yet.”

  Bob and I went on home. I knew he must be half-starved, so I told him to run up and wash real quick and I’d fix him a sandwich and a glass of milk.

  “I’m not very hungry,” he said. “I’d just as soon wait until dinner time. I—I think I’ll take a bath, Mom.”

  “Bath?” I said. “Are my ears deceiving me? You’re going to take a bath without being…Bob,” I said, “come here a minute. What’s that—what in the world have you got on the front of your pants?”

  “Nothin’,” he mumbled, kind of putting his hands in front of himself. “I just, well, I was straddling a fence on the way to the golf course, and I guess I must have scratched myself a little.”

  “Well, I should think you did!” I said. “Now, those pants will have to go to the cleaners and you’ve probably got blood all over your underwear, and—”

  It was just too much for one day. You know, a person can just take so much and that’s all they can take. I sat down on the lounge and began to bawl.

  “Please, Mom,” he said. “I’m sorry, and I p-promise I won’t—”

  “Oh, go on,” I said. “Go on and get your bath, and be sure you soak good and use plenty of hot water. We’ll be lucky if you don’t get lockjaw.”

  He went on up the stairs and pretty soon I heard water running in the tub. I closed my eyes and lay back, listening to it, and it was kind of peaceful, and I guess I must have been extremely tired because the first thing I knew I’d gone to sleep. I mean, I didn’t know it when I went to sleep, of course, but when I woke up I knew I’d been asleep.

  It was practically dark, I’d been asleep for more than two hours.

  I could hear Bob moving around in the bathroom; he was still up there after all this time. And that was all wrong, of course: you’d have to know Bob to know how crazy it was. But there was something else wrong, too.

  I could feel it inside of me, and it made me all sick and kind of shaky. I went to the door—it was like something was drawing me to it—and stepped out on the porch.

  Fay Eddleman was out on her walk, and Jack, her husband, was there, too. He had his arms around her, and you couldn’t see her face, just his, and it was as white as a sheet. He looked as sick as I felt. There were a couple of other men standing off a little to one side, policemen I guessed, though they didn’t have on uniforms. And there was a police car drawn up at the curb. I thought, now, what in the world, but I didn’t really wonder. Somehow I knew what was wrong, not exactly, you know, but close enough. I stood and looked at them, and finally I made myself look away. I turned and looked up the street, and I saw Al coming.

  He was walking so slow, like he hated every step he took, so I guess he must have known, too.

  One of the policemen said something to Jack, and he glanced up and nodded. Then, they started down the walk toward Al.

  5

  Robert Talbert

  I don’t know why. Why does everyone always want to know why, anyway? Gosh, if you always stop to wonder why every time you turn around you never get anything done. All I know is that I wanted to bu
y him a present, so instead of going on to school I cut back to the canyon and started for the golf course. That was all there was to it.

  I went down the side of the canyon, and walked up that little creek that runs right through the center of it until I came to the railroad trestle. Then, I reached up and got ahold of a brace and started to swing across. Well, it wasn’t my fault because, heck, I reckon I must have done the same thing a hundred times, and I bet I could do it in my sleep if I had to. But some way or another—well, maybe the dew had made it slick—my hand slipped; and I threw myself back real fast, but one foot went into the water clear up to my ankle.

  Well, I kind of cussed, and then I laughed about it, because the way I was feeling, it would take a lot more than that to make me sore. Dad had been so nice and everything, and I was going to buy him a nice little present. And if everything went all right, well, I’d kind of have a little talk with him like we’d used to have. I’d get all the load off my mind about laying out of school and everything else I’d been doing, and he’d say, well, son, it’s never too late to turn over a new leaf and I know you’re going to do better from now on, and…Well, that’s the way it would be. I could get out from under that load, and, boy, it was a load!

  I took my shoe off, and shook the water out of it. Then, I wrung my sock out and hung it up on a bush to dry. I had plenty of time. I could make it to the golf course in an hour, easy; get in twenty-seven or maybe thirty-six holes if I got the breaks.

  I hoped this wouldn’t be one of those crummy days when there were maybe eighty-four caddies for every bag, and I thought, by gosh, it better not be. Not today, by golly. But I was feeling too good to worry about it.

  I lay back on my back with my eyes closed, kind of daydreaming about how I was going to do and how things were going to be from now on. And I thought I heard something behind me, a kind of rustling and a twig cracking now and then, but I didn’t pay any attention to it. I didn’t have any idea she was within a million miles of me until she started running her fingers through my hair.

 

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