'We-el, just so you're sorry-' She leaned against me.
I gave her a poke and a kiss, and pushed her away. 'Better beat it, now, baby.'
'I know. I'm just as anxious to be careful as you are, honey.' She reached for the doorknob, then she clapped her hand over her mouth suddenly, stifling a giggle. 'Oh, Carl! There's something I just have to tell you.'
'Yeah?' I said. 'Don't take too long about it.'
'You'll die laughing. I don't know why I didn't see it before, but she's just not the kind of person you pay much attention to and-And of course it may have just happened. I-You just won't believe it, honey! It's just so-'
'That is funny,' I said. 'Better not tell me any more or I'll be laughing all night.'
'Stinker! Just for that… It's Ruthie, honey. Would you believe it? I swear to God someone's gotten to her.'
12
I laughed. I did a pretty good job of it, considering. 'No fooling. How did she happen to tell you about it?'
'She didn't, silly. You can see it. It sticks out all over her.'
'That should be something to see,' I said.
'Crazy!' She buried her head against my chest, giggling. 'B-but-but, honestly, Carl! Who in the world would want to… Carl! I bet I know.'
'Yeah?' I said. 'I mean, you do?'
'Why, of course. It couldn't be anyone else. She went home last night. I'll bet it's someone in her own family.'
I swallowed. I was relieved, in a way, but I wished she hadn't said it. I felt shamed, embarrassed.
'They're… they're that kind of people?'
'They're trash. You ought to see how they live! They've got about fourteen kids, and-'
'Maybe I ought to tell you,' I said. 'There were fourteen children in my family.'
'Oh-' She hesitated, uncomfortably. 'Well. Of course, I didn't mean that-that-'
'Sure. Forget it,' I said.
'But it isn't the same, Carl. You didn't just put up with it like they do. You did something about it.'
'Well,' I said. 'Isn't she doing something?'
'Oh, pooh! What good will it do her if she does manage to squeeze through college? Who's going to give
I shook my head. Ruthie looked pretty good to me, but she'd just about have to. She was me, in a way, and I was seeing myself in her.
'… you know I'm right, Carl. She's trash, stupid, like all the rest of her family. If she really had any brains or guts, she'd- she'd-Well, she'd do
'Well, maybe she's working on it now, Maybe she's going to grow herself a gang of kids and put them all out to picking cotton.'
'All right,' she laughed good-naturedly. 'I guess my own family didn't amount to much, for that matter, but I did do-'
'You'd better start doing something else,' I said, 'before someone catches you in here.'
She kissed me, patted me quickly on the cheek and slipped out of the room.
I went to bed.
It was only a little after nine when I turned in, and I couldn't have slept better if I hadn't had a worry in the world. I woke at six with nine good hours under my belt, the best night's sleep I'd had since I left Arizona. I had a hangover, but nothing bad. I coughed and spit blood, but nothing bad. That rest had done me a world of good.
Well, anyway, I'd had that much.
I smoked a couple of cigarettes, wondering what I'd better do. Whether I'd better get up and get out on the town-stay away from the house until the others were up. Or whether I should just stay here in my room until they were up.
It would have to be one way or another. Otherwise, unless I missed my guess, I'd have Ruthie on my neck. And all Ruthie was getting from me, from now on, was the cold shoulder. I wasn't going to get caught alone with her. Any time I saw her, there'd be someone else around. Pretty soon she'd get the idea, and then maybe it would be safe to be friendly with her… just friendly.
… I found a little lunchroom open down near the railroad station and got some coffee. Afterwards, I sauntered back up the street.
It was Sunday-somehow that fact kept slipping in and out of my mind. You know how that is, maybe, when a lot's been happening to you, and you lay off on days you're used to working and so on. The church bells were starting to ring, booming out over the town. Practically every business house was closed; nothing was open but a few cigar stands, lunch counters and the like. I began to feel kind of conspicuous.
I stopped at an intersection to let a car go past. But instead of passing it pulled even with me and stopped.
Sheriff Summers rolled the window down and leaned out.
'Hey, there, young feller. Give you a lift?'
He was all duked out in a hard-boiled collar and a blue serge suit. There was a hatchet-faced dame with him-a dame in a stiff black satin dress and a hat that looked like a lamp shade. I took off my hat and smiled at her, wondering why some dairy hadn't snapped her up to sour their cream for them.
'What about the lift?' he said, shaking hands. 'Spect you're headin' for church, eh? Glad to take you t' any one you say.'
'Well,' I hesitated. 'As a matter of fact, I'm not a-I've never affiliated-'
'Just lookin' around, huh? Well, come on and go with us.'
I went around to the other side, and he started to open the front door. I opened the back door, and climbed in… How dumb can you be anyway? How little can you know about women? Muss 'em up when they've got their clothes off, that's my motto. When they're dressed up-maybe in the only good thing they've got-give them room.
He drove on. I cleared my throat. 'I don't believe I've met your-is it your daughter, sheriff?'
'Huh?' He looked up into the rear-view mirror, startled. Then, he gave her a poke in the ribs with his elbow. 'You hear that, Bessie? He thinks you're my daughter.'
'And who am I, pray tell?'
'Why-uh-my wife.'
'Thank you. I was afraid you'd forgotten.'
She half turned in the seat, brushing at the place where he'd poked her, and the way she looked then she wouldn't have stood a chance at that milk-souring job.
'Thank you for the compliment, young man. It's about the first one I've had since Bill came home from the war. World War One, that is.'
'Aw, now, Bessie. I ain't that-'
'Be quiet. Mr. Bigelow and I are thoroughly disgusted with you, aren't we, Mr. Bigelow? There is nothing he can say that we care to hear.'
'Not a thing,' I grinned. 'That's an awfully pretty hat you're wearing, Mrs. Summers.'
