by Jim Thompson
I cleared my throat to get Myra’s attention, and jerked my head at Lennie. “How about that, honey?” I said. “You know what we agreed on.”
“What?” she said. “What are you talking about now, for pity’s sake?”
“About him goin’ out at night,” I said. “You know what he’ll do, an’ it just ain’t a good idea with the election coming up.”
Myra said, “Oh, pshaw. The boy’s got to get a little air some time, doesn’t he? You can’t begrudge him that!”
“But we agreed that—”
“I did not! You just got me so mixed up I wasn’t thinking what I was saying! Anyway Sam Gaddis is bound to be beat and you know it!”
“Well, I just don’t see no use in taking chances,” I said. “I—”
“Oh, shut up! Did you ever see such a man in your life, Rose? Is it any wonder that I’m half out of my mind from living with him?” Myra scowled at me, then turned to give Lennie a smile. “You go right ahead, honey. Have a good time, but don’t stay out too late.”
He went out, after a blubbery spiteful grin at me. Myra said I’d better go to my bedroom and stay if I couldn’t make sense, which she was sure I couldn’t, so that’s what I did.
I stretched out on the bed, with the spread turned back so that my boots wouldn’t soil it. The window was open, and I could hear the crickets singing, like they always do after a rain. Now and then a bullfrog would sound off with a loud kerrumph, like a bass drummer keeping time. Way off across town, someone was pumping water, p-plump, whish, p-plump, whish, and you could hear some mother calling her kid, “Henry Clay, oooh, Hen-ry Clay Houston! You come home now!” And the smell of fresh-washed soil was in the air, just about the nicest smell there is. And…and everything was fine.
It was so god-danged nice and peaceful that I dozed off again. Yes, sir, I went to sleep, even though I hadn’t had a real hard work day and I’d managed to catch up on my rest a little.
I guess I must have been asleep about an hour when I waked up to the sound of Myra yelling and Lennie bawling, and someone talking to ’em—Amy Mason speaking her mind in a way that almost put your teeth on edge. Soft, but firm and cutting, like only Amy could speak when she had her dander up. You knew you’d better listen to what she was saying, when Amy spoke that way; you’d better listen and take it to heart or it would be too god-danged bad for you.
I knew it was having its effect on Myra, in spite of her yelling and trying to set defiant. She began to kind of whimper and whine, saying that Lennie didn’t mean anything by peeking in Amy’s window—he was just curious about people. Amy said she knew exactly what he meant, and he’d better not try any of his nasty tricks again if he knew what was good for him.
“I’ve already warned your husband,” she said, “and now I’m warning you, Mrs. Corey. If I catch your brother at my window again, I’ll take a horsewhip to him!”
“Y-You wouldn’t dare!” Myra whined. “And you just stop hurting him! Let go of the poor boy’s ear.”
“Gladly,” Amy said. “It makes my flesh crawl to touch him.”
I cracked the door open an inch or so, and looked out.
Myra had her arm around Lennie, who looked red-faced and mad and scared as she patted him on the head. Rose was standing next to her, trying to appear concerned and protective. But I knew, knowing her so well, that she was laughing inside, tickled pink to see Myra catching it for a change. As for Amy…
I swallowed hard, looking at her, wondering what I’d ever seen in Rose after I’d had someone like Amy.
Not that she was any prettier than Rose, or built any better. You just couldn’t fault Rose on prettiness or build no matter who you stood her up against. The difference, I guess, was something that came from the inside, something that kind of grabbed hold of you right around the heart, that left its mark on you like a brand, so that the feel of her and the memory of her was always with you no matter where you strayed.
I came bursting out of the bedroom and looked around, putting a real surprised look on my face. “What’s going on here, anyways?” I said, not givin’ anyone a chance to answer. “Why, good evening, Miss Mason. Is they some kind of trouble?”
Amy said no, they was not no kind of trouble; kind of mimicking me, you know. “Not now there isn’t, Sheriff. The trouble’s all settled. Your wife will tell you how to avoid any in the future.”
“My wife?” I gave Myra and Lennie a studyin’ look, and turned back to Amy. “Did my wife’s brother do somethin’, Miss Mason? You just tell me about it.”
“Of course, Lennie didn’t do anything!” Myra snapped. “He was just—”
“Is your name Miss Mason?” I said. “Is it?”
“W-What? What?”
“I asked Miss Mason a question,” I said. “In case you ain’t heard, Miss Mason is one of the most prominent and respected young women in Potts County, and when I ask her somethin’ it’s because I know she’ll tell the truth. So maybe you’d better not go contradictin’ what she says.”
Myra’s mouth dropped open. She turned from red to white, and then back to red again. I knew she’d probably give me all-heck when she got me alone, but for the present she wasn’t talkin’ back. She knew she just hadn’t better, what with an election coming up and Amy being so generally well-thought-of. She knew that someone like Amy could cause an awful lot of trouble, if they took a notion, and an election year was no time for trouble.
So Myra didn’t give me any trouble, much as she felt like it, and Amy was kind of pleased by the way I’d acted, and said she was sorry if she’d said anything hurtful. “I’m afraid I lost my temper for a moment,” she smiled, a little stiffly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll run along home.”
“I’ll walk you home myself,” I said. “It’s too late at night for a young lady to be out by herself.”
“Now, that’s not at all necessary, Sheriff. I—”
I said it certainly was necessary; me and my wife, we wouldn’t have it no other way. “That’s right, ain’t it, Myra? You insist on me seein’ Miss Mason home, don’t you?”
Myra said yes, her teeth practically clenched together.
I nodded and winked to Rose and she winked back at me; and Amy and me left.
She lived right there in town, so I didn’t get out the horse and buggy like I might have if her home had been a far piece off. Anyway, I wanted to talk to her and I didn’t want her pulling away from me. And it’s just about impossible for a woman to be standoffish when you’re walking her home through the mud on a dark night.
She had to listen when I started telling her how Myra had hooked me. She said she just wasn’t interested and it wasn’t any of her business, and that sort of thing. But she listened anyway, because she couldn’t get out of it. And after a couple of minutes she stopped interruptin’ and began to cling closer to me, and I knew she believed what I was saying.
On the porch of the house, she flung her arms around me and I put mine around her, and we stood there in the darkness for a little while, just holding onto each other. Then, she sort of pushed me away, and I couldn’t see her expression, but somehow I knew she was frowning.
“Nick,” she said. “Nick, this is terrible!”
I said, “Yeah, I guess I have kind of messed things up, all right. I guess I’ve been nine kinds of fool, lettin’ Myra scare me into marryin’ her and—”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. That could be solved with money, and I have money. But—but—”
“Then, what’s botherin’ you?” I said. “What’s so terrible, honey?”
“I—I’m not sure.” She shook her head. “I know what, but I don’t know why. And I’m not positive it would make any difference if I did know. I—can’t talk about it now! I don’t even want to think about it! I—Oh, Nick! Nick!”
She buried her face against my chest. I held her tighter, stroking her head and whispering that everything was all right, that nothing could be so very terrible as long as we were together again.
“Now, it just couldn’t, honey,” I said. “You just tell me what it is, and I’ll show you it don’t really amount to nothin’ at all.”
She clung to me a little tighter, still not saying anything. I said, well, to heck with it; maybe we could save it for another time, when I didn’t have to be in kind of a rush like I was tonight.
“You remember how I used to go night-fishin’?” I said. “Well, I was thinkin’ maybe I might go tomorrow night, and it’d be kind of a natural mistake if I should wind up here instead of the river, because you ain’t so awful far from it.”
Amy sniffled, then laughed.
“Oh, Nick! There’s just no one like you!”
“Well, I should hope not,” I said. “The world’d be in a heck of a mess if there was.”
I said I’d see her the next night, just as soon as it was good and dark. She shivered against me, and said that would be fine.
“But do you have to go now, darling?”
“Well, I guess I kind of should,” I said. “Myra’ll be wonderin’ what happened, and I got to see Miz Hauck home yet tonight.”
Amy said, “Oh, I see. I’d almost forgotten about Rose.”
“Yeah, I got to take her home,” I said, kind of grumbling about it. “Myra has done promised her I would.”
“Poor Nick!” Amy patted my cheek. “Everyone’s always imposing on him.”
“Aw, I don’t really mind,” I said. “After all, someone’s got to take care of poor Miz Hauck.”
“How true! And isn’t it fortunate that she has someone so willing to take care of her! You know, Nick, poor ol’ Mrs. Hauck seems to be bearing up remarkably well under her troubles. She looked positively blooming, like a woman in love, one might say.”
“Is that a fact?” I said. “I can’t say that I rightly noticed.”
“Come in for a while, Nick. I want to talk to you.”
“I guess we better let it wait until tomorrow night,” I said. “It’s kind of late, an’—”
“Now! Tonight, Nick.”
“But Rose—I mean, Miz Hauck—will be waiting. I—”
“Let her. I’m afraid it’s not the only disappointment she’s in for. Now, come in!”
She flung the door open and went in, and I went in after her. Her hand gripped mine in the darkness, and she led me back through the house to her bedroom. And it was a funny thing, her saying she wanted to talk to me, because she didn’t do no talking at all.
Or hardly any.
Afterwards, she lay back and yawned and stretched; kind of fidgeting because I never could see good in the dark, and I was slow in getting my clothes on.
“Will you please hurry a little, darling? I feel all nice and relaxed and drowsy, and I want to get to bed.”
“Well, you sure ain’t got far to get,” I said. “What was it you was wantin’ to talk to me about, anyways?”
“About your grammar, possibly. You’re no ignoramus, Nick. Why do you talk like one?”
“Just habit, I guess. Kind of a rut I’ve got into. English and grammar, I reckon, they’re like a lot of things. A fella don’t use ’em—he don’t see no real demand for ’em—and pretty soon he loses the knack. Wrong is right for him, an’ vicey versa you might say.”
Amy’s head shifted on the pillows, her eyes wide in her white face as she studied me.
“I think I know what you mean, Nick,” she said. “In a way, I’m a victim of the same process.”
“Yeah?” I said, pulling on my boots. “How you mean, Amy?”
“Or I’m beginning to be a victim,” she said. “And, you know, darling, I rather like it.”
I stood up, tucking in my shirttails. “Just what was you wantin’ to say to me, Amy?”
“Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow night. In fact, I no longer think I’ll have anything to say then.”
“But you said—”
“And I said some other things, too, darling. Possibly you weren’t listening. Now, you run along now, and I do hope pore ol’ Miz Hauck ain’t too disappointed.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I sure hope she ain’t either.”
But I had an idea she was going to be.
12
The way I’d met Myra was at the state fair a few years ago. I was all dressed up like I always am when I go someplace, and even a god-danged fool could see I was doing plenty all right. Anyway, I reckon Myra seen it. And she didn’t look so bad herself then; she’d gone to some pains to pretty herself up. And I didn’t fight too hard when she latched herself onto me.
It was at this place where you throw balls at a colored fella’s head, and if you hit him you won a prize. I was just doin’ it because the fella that ran the place kept asking me to. It had seemed unobliging not to, but I sure didn’t want to hit this colored man and I didn’t. But I heard someone clapping her hands, and here was Myra, carrying on like I was the world’s greatest pitcher.
“Oooh, I just don’t see how you do it!” she said, simpering up at me. “Would you throw some balls for me, please, if I give you the money?”
“Well, I’d kind of rather not, ma’am,” I said. “If you don’t mind excusin’ me, I was just quitting myself.”
“Oh,” she said, kind of letting her face sag, which didn’t require much of an effort if you know what I mean. “I understand. Your wife is with you.”
“Naw, that ain’t it,” I said. “I ain’t married, ma’am; I just don’t want to throw at that colored fella, because it don’t seem right somehow. It ain’t rightly decent, you might say.”
“You’re just saying that,” she pouted and simpered. “It’s your way of rebuking me for being forward.”
I said, naw, that wasn’t it at all; I really felt like I said I did. “I guess it’s his job to get throwed at, but it ain’t mine to do the throwin’,” I said. “Anyways, a fella’d be better off without a job than one like this. If he’s got to get hit to live, he ain’t got nothing worth living for.”
Myra put on a solemn face, and said she could see I was a really deep thinker. I said, well, I didn’t know about that, but I was sure a thirsty one.
“Maybe I could offer you a lemonade, ma’am, seein’ as how I can’t favor you by throwing balls.”
“Well…” She twisted and twitched and twittered. “You won’t think I’m terribly forward if I say yes?”
“Why, you just said it, ma’am,” I said, leading her toward the pink lemonade stand. “You just said yes, and I don’t think nothing like that at all.”
And sure enough I didn’t.
What I was thinking was that she must have buggers in her bloomers or a chigger on her figger, or however you say it. It looked to me like something had better be done about it pretty quick, or her pants would start blazing and maybe they’d set the fairgrounds on fire and there’d be a panic with thousands of people getting stomped to death, not to mention the property damage. And I couldn’t think of but one way to prevent it.
Well, though, I didn’t want to rush into things. There just wasn’t any need to rush, as far as I was concerned, because I was getting married to Amy the next week and she’d taken good care to provide for me until then. So I stalled around, trying to decide whether I really ought to do the only thing I could think of to do. You might say it really wasn’t my problem if Myra did set the fairgrounds on fire, with thousands of innocent women and children getting killed. Because I was from out of town, and I’m a great believer in local rights—you know, like State rights—and Myra lived here in the city. Could be I might get into all kinds of trouble by interfering in a local problem, even if it was something that even a god-danged fool would be familiar with, and the local folks weren’t doing nothing about it.
I took Myra to a few side shows, standing close to her while I tried to make up my mind. I took her on the merry-go-round and some other rides, helping her on and off and looking at her when her dress slid up, and so on and so forth. And god-dang if it wasn’t long before I came to my decision.
“Why—why, I just wouldn’t think of it!” She twisted and twitched. “The very idea, going to a hotel with a strange man!”
“But I ain’t strange,” I said, giving her a pinch. “I’m built just like the rest of ’em.”
“Oh, you awful thing, you!” she giggled. “You’re just terrible!”
“Why, I ain’t neither terrible,” I said. “Anyways, it ain’t fair to say I am without more knowledge on the subject.”
She giggled and blushed, and said she just couldn’t go to a hotel. “I just couldn’t! I really couldn’t.”
“Well, if you can’t you can’t,” I said, getting a little tired of it all. “Far be it from me to urge you.”
“But—but we could go to my rooming house. No one would think anything of it if you just came up to my room for a little visit.”
We took a streetcar over to the place where she lived, a big white house a few blocks from the river. It was a very respectable place, from all appearances, and the people were too. And no one lifted an eyebrow when Myra said we were just going upstairs to clean up before we went out for supper.
Well, sir, I hardly touched that woman. Or, anyway, if I did touch her, I didn’t do much more than that. I was ready to and rarin’ to, and, well, maybe I did do a little something. But with all them clothes she had on, it was god-danged little.
All of a sudden, though, she pushed me off to the floor, starting to bawl and sob so loud you could hear her in the next block. I picked myself up and tried to shush her. I asked her what the heck was the matter, and I tried to pat her and calm her down. She shoved me away again, setting up an even bigger racket.
I didn’t know what the heck to do. Anyways, I didn’t have time to do anything before a bunch of the other roomers came busting in.