The Graduate

by Charles Webb

  Benjamin cleared his throat. “I am looking for a girl named Elaine Robinson!” he said. His voice echoed around the room. No one moved. “Is there anyone in this room who knows Elaine Robinson!”

  Still no one moved for several moments. Then a few girls in different parts of the room slowly began raising their hands. Benjamin waited until all their hands were raised high over their heads, then nodded.

  “Will the girls who have raised their hands please come and see me!” he said. “Thank you!”

  He stepped down from the chair and pushed it back to the girl he had borrowed it from. She seated herself and continued eating.

  The girls who had raised their hands found their way slowly between the tables and chairs and across the room to where Benjamin was standing. The first one came up to him frowning.

  “Do you know her,” Benjamin said.

  “Yes.”

  “Where is she.”

  “I don’t know,” the girl said. “Isn’t she in here?”

  Benjamin turned to the next girl who had found her way to him.

  “Do you know her.”

  She nodded.

  “Do you know where she is.”

  “She’s not in here?”

  “No.”

  The girl frowned a moment down at the floor. “She’s probably in the library,” she said.

  “Are you sure.”

  “I think she had a test this afternoon. She’s probably studying for it in the library. Is anything wrong?”

  “No.” He cleared his way through the rest of the girls around him. “Thank you,” he said. “You can go back to your food.”

  She was not in the library. Benjamin spent nearly an hour walking down halls and through reading rooms and among stacks of shelves of books looking for her. Finally he went to an information desk just inside the main entrance.

  “Is there a way to find someone in this building,” he said.

  A woman looked up at him over a book she was reading and smiled. “No,” she said.

  Benjamin spent another hour searching the library, then walked back to his rooming house. He didn’t see his father until he was almost in the front door.

  “Hello Ben.”

  He stopped suddenly and looked up. “Dad?”

  “I think we’d better have a talk,” Mr. Braddock said.

  Benjamin stared at him a moment longer, then began shaking his head. “Dad,” he said. “I hate—I hate to say this. But I just don’t have time to talk right now.”

  “I think you do, Ben.”

  “Dad—”

  Mr. Braddock reached out and closed his hand around one of Benjamin’s arms. “Shall we go in?” he said.

  Benjamin waited a moment, then pushed open the door and led his father upstairs and into his room. Mr. Braddock closed the door behind him and looked a long time at Benjamin, who stood across the room next to his desk.

  “I don’t know how you could have done it,” he said finally.

  Benjamin didn’t answer or look up.

  “Was it her fault, Ben?”

  “No,” Benjamin said quietly, looking down at his desk.

  “Why did it happen, Ben.”

  “I don’t know.”

  On the chair next to where Mr. Braddock was standing was a white shirt. He picked it up and seated himself and held it in his lap.

  “I want you to sit down and tell me why it happened, Ben.”

  Benjamin shook his head.

  “Sit down.”

  Benjamin sat slowly into the chair, still not looking at his father.

  “Tell me when it started,” Mr. Braddock said.

  Benjamin took a deep breath. “I don’t remember,” he said.

  “Tell me when it started, Ben.”

  “It started last summer,” he said. “It started that night after the graduation party.”

  “Did you sleep with her that night?”

  “No. She took me upstairs after dinner. She said I could spend the night with her.”

  “And what did you tell her.”

  “That I didn’t think it was right.”

  “And she kept after you.”

  “No.”

  “What then.”

  “I called her up one night. I was depressed. I said I’d buy her a drink. She met me.”

  “Where.”

  “A hotel.”

  “Which hotel was it.”

  “Dad, this is not pleasant for me!”

  Mr. Braddock sat quietly looking down at the white shirt in his lap. For a long time it was perfectly quiet. “Please pack up now,” he said finally. “What?”

  “You’re driving back with me now.” Benjamin shook his head. “Get your things together.”

  “No.”

  “Yes, Benjamin,” Mr. Braddock said.

  “Dad?” Benjamin stood. “I appreciate that you’re concerned enough about me to come up here. But I cannot leave this place.”

  “Because of Elaine?”

  “That’s right.”

  Mr. Braddock nodded. “Benjamin, I don’t want you ever to see her again in your life.”

  Benjamin stared at him. “Dad, I can’t help it.”

  “You have to help it.”

  “I cannot.”

  “Ben,” Mr. Braddock said, “I’m going to tell you something.” He stood up. “Mr. Robinson was sitting in our living room two nights ago crying like a two-year-old child because of what you did to him.”

  Benjamin said nothing.

  “He was sobbing and crying, Ben. He was beating his hand on the cushion like a little baby. He was—”

  “All right!”

  Mr. Braddock looked a moment longer at his son, then glanced down at the suitcase on the floor. He picked it up and opened it on the bed.

  “You have an appointment in the morning with a doctor,” he said, putting the white shirt in the suitcase.

  “What?”

  “You have an appointment with a psychiatrist.”

  Benjamin took a step toward him. “I don’t—I don’t think I heard you correctly,” he said.

  “I think you did.”

  “Listen to me,” Benjamin said. “Whatever else may be the trouble, there is nothing wrong with my mind!”

  “Get to it, Ben. Get your things together.”

  “Dad? I don’t know if you brought a straitjacket up or not. But if you didn’t you’re going to have one hell of a time getting me—”

  Mr. Braddock straightened up suddenly and slapped Benjamin’s face as hard as he could with the back of his hand. Benjamin fell backward, caught his balance, then stared up at his father. “Forgive me for that, Ben.” Mr. Braddock walked to the closet and removed Benjamin’s suit. He carried it to the bed and began folding the coat. Benjamin sat slowly down in the chair beside his desk and stared at his father as he laid the folded coat in the suitcase, then removed the pants from the hanger. Finally Benjamin turned slowly around to his desk. He pulled the top drawer slightly open and reached inside. He found the money, glanced back at his father still folding the pants, then withdrew the large bundle of bills slowly, bringing them down into his lap, then pushing them into his pants pocket. He looked down to see that they were not showing, then stood and walked to the bureau to open the top drawer. He pulled out a pair of khaki pants and carried them across to the bed. He folded them and set them in the suitcase.

  “Ben?” his father said, standing beside him.

  “What.”

  “Ben, I’m wrought up by this,” he said, putting his hand on Benjamin’s arm. “I’m very badly shaken. I want you to forgive me for that. I want you to try and understand.”

  “I understand,” Benjamin said.

  “I hope so,” Mr. Braddock said. He sat back down in the chair.

  “Dad?”

  “What, son.”

  “How long did the drive up here take.”

  “I left before dawn.”

  Benjamin nodded. “So I guess we won’t get back till pretty la
te.”

  “No.”

  Benjamin finished packing the pants and walked to the door of his room.

  “Where are you going,” Mr. Braddock said, rising from the chair.

  Benjamin frowned at him. “What?”

  “Where are you going, Ben.”

  “The bathroom,” Benjamin said, still frowning at him. “It’s out in the hall.”

  Mr. Braddock shook his head and sat back down in the chair. “Ben, forgive me for this,” he said. “I’m a wreck. I’m a complete wreck.”

  “That’s all right,” Benjamin said. He stepped out into the hall and closed the door just far enough to block the view from inside the room. Then he walked into the bathroom and turned on the. water in the sink. Then he backed quickly out into the hall again

  and closed the bathroom door.

  ***

  “Call down Elaine Robinson. Room two hundred.” He watched the girl behind the desk as she dialed the phone and as she waited and as she finally began to speak.

  “Elaine Robinson, please?” she said. She listened, then nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ll tell him.” She hung up the phone and turned to Benjamin. “You’re Benjamin Braddock, aren’t you.”

  “Yes.”

  “Elaine’s left school,” she said. “Her roommate’s bringing down a message.”

  A minute later the doors of one of the elevators opened and a girl stepped out into the lobby carrying a sealed white envelope with Benjamin’s name written on the front of it. He took it from her and tore it open.

  Dear Benjamin,

  I promise you someday I will write a long letter about everything but right now I can’t think and all I can say to you is please forgive me because I know what I am doing is the best thing for you. I love you but it would never work out. Go to Canada or somewhere I can never see you again.

  Elaine

  Benjamin looked up from the note just as the roommate was stepping back into the elevator. “Come here!”

  She stepped out into the lobby and the elevator doors snapped shut behind her.

  Benjamin took her arm. “Where did she go,” he said. She pulled away from him. “What are you—”

  “Where did she go!”

  “I don’t know!”

  “Tell me the truth!”

  “I am!”

  Benjamin nodded. “When did you last see her.”

  “Last night.”

  “What time last night.”

  “Late,” the girl said. “I guess it was morning. About two or three in the morning.”

  “What happened.”

  The girl shrugged. “She just came up and packed some things and wrote the note and left.”

  “What did she say to you before she left.”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “I want you to remember.”

  The girl frowned at him. “Would you mind telling me what’s going on?”

  “Tell me what she said.”

  “She said she was leaving school,” the girl said. “She was crying and she—”

  “She was crying.”

  “Yes.”

  “What did she say.”

  “She just said goodbye and told me to send her things to her. The rest of her clothes and things.”

  “Send them where.”

  “To her house.”

  “Her home. Her parents’ home.”

  “Yes.”

  Benjamin nodded. “Come with me,” he said. “What?”

  “Come with me.”

  “Well what for.”

  “You’re going to call her house.”

  “Look,” the girl said. “If you don’t mind I’d just as soon not get mixed up in some cruddy love affair right now. I’d—”

  Benjamin stared at her several moments, then nodded toward the door and followed her out of the building. “Hello,” the girl said. “This is Marjory, Elaine’s roommate up at the university. Is Elaine there?”

  Benjamin pushed his head closer to the girl’s and tipped the receiver slightly away from her ear.

  “She can’t talk to you right now,” Mrs. Robinson said.

  “Oh,” the girl said. “Well I have all her things. I wanted to ask her what to do with all her things.”

  It was silent a moment.

  “You just hold on to them for now,” Mrs. Robinson said. “I’ll have her write you a letter about it.”

  “But where is she,” Marjory said. “Is she at home now?”

  “It was awfully thoughtful of you to call, Marjory. I’ll be sure she writes—”

  Benjamin grabbed the receiver away from her and brought it in front of his face. “Tell me what is happening, Mrs. Robinson! Tell me where she is!”

  The phone went dead. Benjamin slammed it back down onto its hook and hurried out of the phone booth and into the street. He waved down a taxi as it sped toward him, then jumped out of the way as it squealed to a stop.

  “The airport!” he said, clambering in onto the back seat, “Get me to the airport!”

  ***

  It was just nightfall. It was perfectly quiet on the street and although the air had become dim the lights lining the curb were not yet turned on. Benjamin paid the driver, then stood a long time next to a tree by the street looking at the house. There were no lights on upstairs. Downstairs the light was on in the living room but heavy curtains had been drawn across the windows so that only a thin line of light escaped down the center of each window. Suddenly the front door opened and a large block of light shot out into the front yard. Benjamin stepped quickly behind the trunk of the large palm tree beside him and watched as Mr. Robinson walked part way down the path of flagstones to pick up a newspaper lying on the grass. When he had gone back inside Benjamin walked quickly to the driveway and back beside the house. He stopped under the window in the rear corner of the house and looked up at it. Then he called, cupping his hands around his mouth.

  “Elaine!”

  There was no answer. He waited a moment then found a small stone beside the driveway and tossed it up against the glass. No one came to the window. The room behind the window remained dark. There was no sound. Finally he walked the rest of the way to the end of the driveway and quietly opened a gate leading into the back yard. He stepped through the gate and stopped next to a bush. The lights were on in the sun porch and through the glass he could see Mrs. Robinson sitting in a chair. He squinted to make her out more clearly. She was sitting in the chair with a drink beside her on a table and was not reading or talking to anyone but seemed to be simply sitting and staring out into the back yard. Benjamin moved closer to the bush. He waited a moment, then returned through the gate and along the driveway to a door at the side of the house. Very slowly he turned the doorknob and opened it. He turned his head to listen in through the open door. No sound came from inside the house. He removed his shoes and rested them beside the door and walked very slowly into the house. He walked in his stocking feet through the dark kitchen, feeling first for the sink, then for the table, and finally for the door leading into the dining room. He pushed it, then stopped, then pushed it again until a shaft of dim light came through and fell across him. Then he stepped quietly through the door and into the dining room, holding his breath as he brought the door closed slowly behind him.

  In the dining room it was just barely light enough to see the table and the chairs around it and the heavy curtains hanging over the windows. He heard Mr. Robinson cough and stopped to crouch where he was standing. He looked quickly back toward the door but then he heard the pages of the newspaper being turned and it was quiet again and he took several slow steps toward the entrance of the dining room.

  There was a hall separating the dining room from the living room and by looking around the wall and through the hall he could see Mr. Robinson sitting in a large chair in the living room holding the newspaper up in front of himself. Just as he was watching him Mr. Robinson folded the newspaper suddenly in his lap and stood. Benjamin flattened himself aga
inst the wall. He heard Mr. Robinson walking across the rug toward him but then the front door was opened and after a few moments he heard the sound of sprinklers being turned on in the front yard. Mr. Robinson returned into the house and the front door clicked shut.

  “I want you to tell George to trim around the sprinkler heads,” Mr. Robinson said.

  It was silent again.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Yes I did,” Mrs. Robinson said quietly from the porch.

  Benjamin listened to Mr. Robinson settle himself again in the chair and open his newspaper. Then he looked around the edge of the door frame to watch him read a page and then when he had turned to the next page and his head was to the side reading the column farthest away Benjamin stepped slowly out into the hall. He stopped, keeping his eyes fixed on Mr. Robinson, then moved slowly to the foot of the stairs. He drew in his breath very slowly, then let it out. He hurried silently up to the dark second story. He moved along the railing until he was opposite the door of Elaine’s room, then opened the door quietly. He stepped inside, closed the door behind him and turned on the light.

  The room was perfectly neat. The bedspread with the pattern of a large red flower in the center of it was smooth and the white shades were drawn evenly halfway down across each of the three windows in the room and the windows were closed and the room smelled as though no one had been in it for several weeks. There was nothing on the desk except a white blotter. The door to the closet was closed. Benjamin stood a few moments, frowning around the room at the walls and the carpet and the bed, then he turned off the light and walked back out into the hall. He walked down the stairs. When he came to the bottom he stepped out into the wide entrance of the living room and stood staring at Mr. Robinson still sitting in his chair reading the newspaper.

  “Where is she,” he said.

  Mr. Robinson pitched slightly forward in his chair, then turned his head to gape at Benjamin standing beside him. It took him several moments to recover, then he lifted himself slowly up out of the chair, letting the newspaper fall to the carpet.

  “Where is she,” Benjamin said again, stepping down into the room.

  “Get out,” Mr. Robinson said quietly.

  Mrs. Robinson appeared from the porch. She nodded at Benjamin and smiled.