MOTHER
Well, maybe — I don’t know. We’ll see. But somebody’s come in.
FATHER
Still pacing and excited That’s it — some place to go — entertainment — I wouldn’t take a million dollars for the place, now — gotta be cheerful. They want some place to go.
MOTHER
Somebody’s come in, I tell you. One of the train gang likely. Better go and see.
FATHER
Huh!
He is still lost in his dream
MOTHER
Oh, come out of it! Somebody’s come in, I’m saying! See what they want!
FATHER
Oh!
He goes abstractedly towards the door between the rooms, puffing his pipe. He passes through the door and takes a few steps to below the counter before he sees who it is. He stops abruptly, turns, goes back through the door, closes it behind him, and excitedly runs down to the left side of the bed, leaning over it, speaking in a loud whisper It’s Joe Kane! The banker’s son!
MOTHER
Well, what of it?
FATHER
Almost dancing Doncha see!
As he talks he blunders about hastily, stripping off the dirty apron, which he drops on the floor, bringing a clean apron from behind the curtain, and tying it around his waist, tidying his unruly hair and mustache with a small pocket comb, standing in front of the mirror that hangs on the right wall of the bedroom as he does so, and then bringing a clean towel from behind the curtain, and hanging it over his arm
Joe Kane — the richest young blood in town — goin’ to get him! — goin’ — goin’ to get him, Maw — goin’ to entertain him — see-smile at him — see — entertain him — he’ll come back with all the swell people of Bidwell. Gosh, Maw, he’s our start — he come right out of Heaven to us, he did, Maw — you wait, you see — I’ll get him laughing — m’lasses, Maw — you see —
MOTHER
Better take my advice and let this new fangled entertainment alone. You ain’t a showman.
She lies wearily on the bed
FATHER
All you gotta do, Maw, is mind your own business. I ain’t no showman, maybe, but I got a trick or two in me you don’t know nothing about. And I aint’t goin’ to run a one-horse restaurant all my life, either. It’s the first time that fellow’s been in here, an’ after I get through with him he’s goin’ to come back and bring a crowd with him. You wait an’ see, Maw. It’s my own scheme an’ I know how to make it work. It’s our big start, Maw.
He enters the restaurant, closing the door softly behind him
MOTHER
Well — maybe — I’ve got my doubt.
The FATHER makes a patent effort to smile and give forth cheerfulness. He rubs his hands together. He pauses several times between the door he has left and the back of JOE’S chair, which apparently is his destination. It is certain the nearer he gets to JOE, and the longer the time that passes, the quicker go his assurance and smile. After a long pause, directly behind JOE’S chair, the FATHER raises his hand high, as if to give his guest a cordial slap on the back, and keeps it aloft a moment in doubt. It finally comes down, with too great force, for the impact unbalances JOE. JOE drops his paper and falls forward to the floor in one direction, the chair in another, the FATHER’S pipe in a third, JOE picks himself up, and JOE and the FATHER stand absolutely still, staring at each other for several moments, their faces expressing only blank amazement. The FATHER finally takes a step forward, JOE is undecided whether to run for the door or adopt an attitude of defense. He partially does the latter, and again for a moment the two face each other, amazed and motionless The scene must be quietly done
FATHER
Jeez, Joe — Jeez, Mr. Kane — mistake — hell! — didn’t mean — hurt? — get hurt at all? — dam’ fool I am — that’s what I am — here — what the’ll, anyway — here, lemme brush you off.
He has picked up the chair, the paper, and his own pipe, and handed them all to JOE, who takes them in a dazed way, brushing himself off and rubbing himself. The MOTHER has jumped out of bed at the crash and is listening through the thin partition. She shades her head and goes back to sit dejectedly on the side of the bed
FATHER
Jeez — didn’t mean it — nothin’ like that, you know. You know I was just trying to give you a little slap on the back, you know-friendly — you know, hail fellow, well met, eh? — friendly like, you know. How you feel, now?
JOE
Oh, I’m all O.K. That’s all right — forget about it — that’s all right.
FATHER
Trying to smile again Sit down — huh — have a cup of coffee, huh? An’ a cigar. Where’s my pipe — what the hell I do with my pipe?
FATHER looks through his pockets, and on the counter; FATHER and JOE look on the floor and under the table
JOE Who, unknowingly, has been holding the pipe in his hand Oh, here it is! Guess I must have picked it up when — when —
FATHER
Much obliged. How you feel — cup o’ coffee, huh? And a cigar, huh? On me — on the house.
FATHER brings the cigar from the case and lights it; then he goes up behind the counter to get the coffee, while JOE returns to his chair, JOE doesn’t show much fondness for the cigar Good cup hot coffee fixes anybody up — coffee’s one o’ our good specialties here. How you fixed, now — all right?
JOE
Thanks — much obliged. I’m all right. Father’s been out of town, and is coming home tonight, and the dang’ train’s late, so I thought I’d come in and have a cup of coffee instead of going back uptown. Don’t mind, do you?
FATHER
Bringing the cup of coffee down to JOE, and shoving the sugar bowl over where it is handy That’s right — that’s right — just what we’re here for — want this to be a real place of entertainment for everybody — make yourself at home — drop in any time — we’re running a real first-class day-and-night place here —
A pause, JOE drinks his coffee without pleasure. The FATHER leans against the counter and puffs his pipe. He has run out of ideas and is obviously uncomfortable, and seeking for more
JOE
How’s business?
FATHER
Fine — fine.
Smiling hard Gettin’ better right along — yep, got a first-class breezy place here —
Gradually losing his enthusiasm always entertaining — and they keep comin’ right along — yep — yep — fine!
A slight pause
JOE
About how many do you feed here in a day?
FATHER
Obviously uncomfortable Oh, quite a few — quite a few — yep — yep — take breakfast, dinner, and supper, together, and the night parties, and we’re kept pretty busy, y’know — yep — people like it — like the entertainment here, y’know.
JOE
Uh-huh. But where do they come from? There don’t seem to be many —
FATHER
Oh, all over.
He crosses down to left of the table where JOE sits Every morning an’ night the buses come down to the station, y’know, along Turner’s Pike from the Hotel up in Bidwell— ‘n’ travelin’ men are always waitin’ aroun’ to take trains — an’ some of the fellows come over from the cider mill and pickle factory — an’ when the local freight crew finishes their switchin’ in Pickleville they always come in for a meal. Oh, yes — lots of business — fine people, too — well, y’see, we try to entertain them good whenever they come in — good feed — good entertainment — that’s the secret of our success — just like now, y’see. You come in — you get good eats and entertainment — next thing y’know when you want a place to go, you come back — ain’t that it?
JOE
Yes. I guess so. But how d’you entertain them?
FATHER
Rather weakly Well, what do you think — yeah, yeah, entertain — what do you think I’m — have another cup a coffee — huh?
JOE puts up his
hand negatively and the FATHER puffs desperately at his pipe No? Suit yourself, suit yourself. Say, you know I wa’n’t always in the restaurant business. Oh, no — nope — I was in the chicken business, ‘for’, y’know, before I made a success of this place, y’know. Yep, I was a pretty big chicken man. Yeah, a big place, ten acres — kinda stony but then it was all right. Had a place just outside Bidwell, y’know, eight miles out on Grigg’s Road. Y’know it?
JOE
No.
He is covertly reading the paper again Yep — quite a place — quite a place — the missus put me up to do it, y’know — fine woman the missus — smart woman — y’betcha. I didn’t really get my start in life till I got t’know her. That was when I was — let’s see — oh, well, about — oh, thirty, yeah— ‘bout thirty-four years — usta work f’r Tom Butterworth, out’n the Bidwell road, you know. Know Tom?
JOE
Oh, I just know who he is.
FATHER
Fine fellow, Tom — yep — fine fellow — all right.
Smokes Gave me pretty good pay, Tom did. Had my own horse — nice steady old mare. Usta drive into town with her ev’ry Saturday night. Gang was always at Ben Head’s saloon, y’know, bunch of fine fellas — yes, they was. I’d take a glass of beer or so ‘n’ ev’ry once ‘n’ a while I’d get tanked, y’know. I didn’t want to — didn’t like it — always made me pretty sick — but then, y’know how it is — fellas get singing an’ thumpin’ their glasses on the bar ‘n’ want you to have one on ’em — and, oh, y’know how it is — y’can’t be a stiff — y’gotta do what the gang does, y’know. Well, then, about ten, usta drive home feelin’ pretty good— ‘n’ singin’ a little now’n then and then put the old girl in the barn an’ roll into bed myself — great days, them were — yep — great days — that’s no joke —
He sighs in enjoyable memory, then smokes — lost in thought. He suddenly remembers he must entertain
Yep — yep — and then the missus came along. She was a school teacher, y’know — mighty smart woman, too — yep — smart woman. She was the makin’ of me, y’know — yep. Gotta give her credit for that. She made me what I am today — told me I wus too good a man for farmhand — yep — she’s bright, all right. I was just like the other fellas till she came along — kinda shifters, y’know. Got gray eyes, y’know, an’ they’re always smart women. Got me off Tom’s farm an’ made me sell the old mare and go into business for myself. Chicken farm, y’know — went big, too. I’m a pretty good chicken man if I do say it — yep. I’ve handled thousands a eggs — no one knows the game better’n I do, if I do say it — lotsa money in it, too — y’see — it’s a easy game when you get on to it. All y’gotta have is a bunch of chickens— ‘n’ the chickens lay eggs ‘n’ you hatch those eggs ‘n’ then raise the chicks, ‘n’ the chicks lay more eggs ‘n’ raise up the chickens from those eggs — see — that’s all — it just sorta keeps on goin’ by itself lika wheel — y’know — pile a money in it.
JOE
Yes, guess there is. But there’s a lot ‘round here who lost a pile of money chicken farming too.
FATHER
Dam’ right — gotta know the game — that’s the whole thing — gotta know it from the egg up to the hen and down again. Helluva a game if y’don’t know it.
JOE
Is it?
FATHER
Oh, yes — y’see — nothin’ can have so much happen to it in so many different places as a chicken can. They come outa their shells lookin’ all fluffy and nice — like on Easter cards, you know — then you get thinkin’ you’re goin’ to have a bunch a hens in a few months— ‘n’ then they lose all their feathers and run around naked and eat more corn ‘n’ meal than you can raise in the state of Ohio. Then they get diseases like pip and cholera and begin blinkin’ their eyes up at the sun an’ then turn up their toes and die. An’ if that don’t kill ’em, the mice an’ rats do. An’ if you do get a hen or a rooster or two that skins through, they get squashed under wagon wheels. An’ if there’s any come through, you gotta hand all the money you got left for vermin powders, Wilmer’s Wonder Cholera Cure, or Professor Bedlow’s egg producer, or something else. And the trouble is they are always raisin’ your hopes. They look so bright and lively, and then you find out they’re just dam’ stupid — just like people. You don’t know whether people is better’n chickens or chickens is better’n people, y’know. Say, d’y’ever read any of the literature on chickens?
JOE
What?
FATHER
Say! D’y’ever read any the stuff they print about how to make a million dollars on a sixteen-dollar chicken farm?
JOE
No.
FATHER
Well, don’t do it. Don’t you believe any the lies those chicken and incubator fellows print — let ’em alone.
Raises his voice, shouts Let ’em alone I tell you.
JOE
Startled But I thought you made money at it.
FATHER
Who? Me? Well, I should say so — sure I did — sure! I made a pretty good pile — yep — I was one of the few who got along all right. But, you see, the missus wanted — oh, y’know — she wanted to get along better, y’know — an’ there was the boy, y’know. The better place to raise him. So we got our stuff together and borrowed a wagon from Al Grigg — know Al?
JOE
Uh-huh.
FATHER
Fine fellow, Al — yep — none better — gave us his wagon ‘n’ we piled our stuff on it — beds ‘n’ tables ‘n’ boxes ‘n’ chairs ‘n’ dishes ‘n’ crate live chickens ‘n’ the baby carriage. The missus ‘n’ the boy walked ‘n’ picked up what fell off — yep, quite a load for a small wagon. We packed up ‘n’ came over here and put our capital in this place, y’know — and it’s goin’ good, too — yep — all right.
A pause, JOE reads, FATHER smokes and smiles
FATHER
Say, guess what?
JOE
Slightly startled What?
FATHER
How’d you like to have seven legs and two heads?
JOE
Puzzled I don’t know.
FATHER
How’d you like to see some one with seven legs and two heads?
JOE
Uncomfortable All right, I guess.
FATHER
Wait! Get ready for the surprise of your life.
FATHER goes to a shelf back of the counter and brings a case with several bottles. He exhibits each one in turn to JOE, who becomes more and more uncomfortable
FATHER
Y’see, on a chicken farm — when y’get thousands a chickens comin’ outa eggs — lots a s’prisin’ things happen — about once every thousand eggs — then somethin’ wonderful happens — a freak comes out — helluvit is they don’t live — that’s what got me sore at the chicken business. If I coulda raised one of these freaks into a rooster or a hen I coulda taken ’em around to county fairs and got rich. Anybody’d paid twenty-five cents admission to see things like that, wouldn’t they? But I got ’em all preserved here, all right — got ’em in alcohol just as they was. Now, here’s where you’re going to see somethin’. Ain’t a collection like this any place in the world. Look at that. Huh! Here’s another — four wings. D’y’ever see anything like that! An’ look at that — born that way and lived ten days. And here she is — one of the greatest wonders of the world — seven legs and two heads! Ain’t that a beaut!
JOE rises abruptly and starts toward the door up right. The FATHER pauses and looks after him in amazement
FATHER
What’s matter — where you goen?
JOE
At the door Guess I’d better go out and see about the train. Feel a little sick, anyway.
FATHER
Crossing up to JOE, and taking him by the arm Oh, what t’hell — mustn’t mind a little thing like that. These are wonders — wouldn’t take a thousand dollars for them. Nope — ain’t every
restaurant can show you things like that.
FATHER leads JOE back to the table. JOE is slightly angry and beginning to be desperate
FATHER
Missus wants me to throw them out, but I won’t do it. Too valuable, and everybody likes to look at strange and wonderful things like that.
JOE ; I guess you’re right.
He sits sulkily at the table again
FATHER
Just wanted you to feel at home. Make it a point here to entertain all our guests — ain’t no more cheerful restaurant west of New York.
Taking JOE’S cup, and crossing up behind the counter again C’mon, have another cup of coffee an’ a cigar — my treat — always want to please.
He hurries back with a cigar, which he lights for JOE
Well — well, now — say, you’ve heard of Christopher Columbus, ain’t you?
He crosses back up behind the counter and pours another cup of coffee which he puts down beside the one he has just given JOE
JOE
Sure.
FATHER
Bringing the coffee down to the table Well, what d’you think of a man like that now! What do you think of him?
JOE
Who?
FATHER
Christopher Columbus.
JOE
Why, he’s all right, isn’t he?
FATHER
All right! Is that what you say! Why, that man’s the biggest joke — the biggest cheat ever lived. Nothin’ but a dam’ liar and cheat. Get so dam’ mad when I think about him I feel like burnin’ all the schoolhouses down. Dam’, low-down cheat — and yet they teach the kids all about him in the schools — give him monuments — great man! Jeez — said he could make an egg stand on end and then he went and broke the end of the egg. An’ that’s the kind of man we had discover America for us. Dam’ cheat and liar — wasn’t he?
Complete Works of Sherwood Anderson Page 313