He looked back at me, kind of bewildered and disgusted.
'For God's sake!' he said.
'Yes, sir?' I said. 'I don't reckon there's anyone in there, do you?'
I didn't think he was going to answer me for a minute. But then he said, yeah, someone was in the toilet. 'She just went in a little while ago. A naked woman on a spotted pony.'
'Oh,' I said. 'But how come a woman's using the men's toilet?'
'On account of the pony,' he said. 'He had to take a leak, too.'
'I can't see no one from here,' I said. 'It's funny I couldn't see 'em in a little place like that.'
'You calling me a liar?' he said. 'You saying a naked woman on a spotted pony ain't in there?'
I said, no, of course not. I wouldn't say nothing like that. 'But I'm in kind of a hurry.' I said. 'Maybe I better go up to one of the other cars.'
'Oh, no, you don't!' he said. 'No one's calling me a liar and getting away with it!'
'I'm not,' I said. 'I didn't mean it that way at all. I just-'
'I'll show you! I'll show you I'm telling the truth! You're gonna sit right there until that woman and her pony comes out.'
'But I gotta pee!' I said. 'I mean, I really got to, sir.'
'Well, you ain't leaving here,' he said. 'Not until you see I'm telling the truth.'
Well, sir, I just didn't know what to do. I just didn't know. Maybe you would have, but I didn't.
All my life, I've been just as friendly and polite as a fella could be. I've always figured that if a fella was nice to everyone, why, they'd be nice to him. But it don't always work out that way. More often than not, it seems like, I wind up in a spot like! was in now. And I just don't know what to do.
Finally, when I was about to let go in my britches, the conductor came through taking up tickets, and I had a chance to get away. I tore out of there in such a hurry that it was maybe a minute before I could get the door open to the next car. And I heard a burst of laughter from the rest room behind me. They were laughing at me, I guess-the conductor and the man in the checked suit. But I'm kind of used to being laughed at, and anyway I didn't have time to think about it right then.
I dashed on up into the next car and relieved myself-and believe me it was a relief. I was coming back down the aisle, looking for a seat in that car so's I wouldn't run into the checked-suit fella again, when I saw Amy Mason.
I was pretty sure that she'd seen me, too, but she let on that she didn't. I hesitated by the seat next to her for a minute, then braced myself and sat down.
No one knows it in Pottsville, because we were careful to keep it a secret, but me and Amy was mighty thick at onetime. Fact is, we'd've got married if her Daddy hadn't had such strong objections to me. So we waited, just waiting for the old gentleman to die. And then just a week or so before he did, Myra hooked me.
I hadn't seen Amy since except to pass on the street. I wanted to tell her I was sorry, and try to explain things to her. But she never gave me the chance. Whenever she saw me, she'd toss her head and look away. Or if I tried to stop her, she'd cross to the other side of the street.
'Howdy, Amy,' I said. 'Nice morning.'
Her mouth tightened a little, but she didn't speak.
'It's sure nice running into you like this,' I said. 'How far you ridin', if you don't mind my asking?'
She spoke that time. Just barely. 'To Clarkton. I'll be getting ready to leave any moment now.'
'I sure wish you was riding further,' I said. 'I been wanting to talk to you, Amy. I wanted to explain about things.'
'Did you?' She slanted a glance at me. 'The explanation seems obvious to me.'
'Aw, flaw, flaw,' I said. 'You know I couldn't like no one better'n you, Amy. I never wanted to marry anyone in my life but you, and that's the God's truth. I swear it is. I'd swear it on a stack of Bibles, honey.'
Her eyes were blinking rapidly, like she was blinking back the tears. I got hold of her hand and squeezed it, and I saw her lips tremble.
'Th-then, why, Nick? Why did- y-you-'
'That's what I been wanting to tell you. It's a pretty long story, and-looky, honey, why don't I get off at Clarkton with you, and we can get us a hotel room for a couple hours and-'
It was the wrong thing to say. Right at that time it was the wrong thing.
Amy turned white. She looked at me with ice in her eyes. 'So that's what you think of me!' she said. 'That's all you want-all you ever wanted! Not to marry me, oh, no, I'm not good enough to marry! Just to get me in bed, and-'
'Now, please, honey,' I said. 'I-'
'Don't you dare honey me, Nick Corey!'
'But I wasn't thinking about that-what you think I was thinking about,' I said. 'It was just that it'd take quite a while to explain about me and Myra, and I figured we'd need some place to-'
'Never mind. Just never mind,' she said. 'I'm no longer interested in your explanations.'
'Please, Amy. Just let me-'
'But I'll tell you one thing, Mr. Nicholas Corey, and you'd better pass the word along to the proper quarters. If I catch your wife's brother peeking in my windows, there's going to be trouble. Real trouble. I won't put up with it like the other women in Pottsville do. So you tell her that, and a word to the wise is sufficient.'
I told her I hoped she didn't ever do anything about Lennie. For her own sake, that is. 'I got no more use for Lennie than you have, but Myra-'
'Humph!' She tossed her head and stood up as the train slowed down for Clarkton. 'You think I'm afraid of that-that-her?'
'Well,' I said, 'it might be better if you was. You know how Myra is when she takes out after someone. By the time she gets through gossiping and telling lies, why-'
'Let me out, please.'
She pushed past me and went on up the aisle, her head high, the ostrich plume on her hat dipping and swaying. As the train pulled out, I tried to wave to her where she stood on the platform. But she turned her head quickly, with another swoop of the ostrich plume, and started off up the street.
So that was that, and I told myself that maybe it was just as well. Because how could we ever mean anything to each other the way things stood?
There was Myra, of course, and there was going to be Myra, it looked like, until her or me died of old age. But Myra wasn't the only drawback.
Somehow, I'd gotten real friendly with a married woman, name of Rose Hauck. One of those involvements which I've always kind of drifted into before I knew what was happening. Rose didn't mean a thing to me, except that she was awful pretty and generous. But I meant plenty to her. I meant plenty-plenty, and she'd let me know it.
Just to show how smart Rose was, Myra considered her her very best friend. Yes, sir, Rose could put on that good an act. When we were alone, me and Rose that is, she'd cuss Myra until it actually made me blush. But when they were together, oh, brother! Rose would suck around her-honeyin' and deane-in' her-until heck wouldn't have it. And Myra would get so pleased and flustered that she'd almost weep for joy.
The surest way of gettin' a rise out of Myra was to hint that Rose was something less than perfect. Even Lennie couldn't do it. He started to onetime, just kind of hinted that anyone as pretty as Rose couldn't be as nice as she acted. And Myra slapped him clean across the room.
