The Kill-Off

just a suit of clothes cost two hundred and fifty? But even if they only cost fifty or seventy-five, it was a mighty handsome gift. Not something you'd give to people unless you thought an awful lot of them.

'Mr. Brockton,' I said. And that was as far as I could go for a minute. 'Mr. Brockton, what's the matter?'

'Well, I'll tell you, Ralph,' he said, not looking at me, still kicking at the grass. 'Doctor Ashton's son got in touch with me by mail a week or so ago. I've decided to give the work to him.'

Well. You could have pushed me over with a dew drop. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

'Bobbie Ashton?' I said. 'Why-what would Bobbie be doing doing yard work? Why, he must have been joking you, Mr. Brockton! Doc Ashton, why, he always hires his own yard work done, so why would Bobbie-'

'I've already engaged him,' Mr. Brockton said. 'It's all settled. I'm sorry, Ralph.' He hesitated a second; then he said, 'I think Doctor Ashton is a good man. I think Bob is a fine boy.'

'Well, so do I,' I said. 'You never heard me say anything else, Mr. Brockton.'

'I like them,' he said. 'And I come here to rest, to enjoy myself. And I do not like-in fact, I refuse, Ralph-to be drawn into community quarrels.'

I knew what the trouble was then. I knew there was nothing I could do about it. All I could do now was to get to some other place as fast as I could. So… so I made myself smile. I said I could see how he might feel, and that he shouldn't feel bad about it on my account. Then I started reloading the Mercedes.

'Ralph,' he said. 'Wait a minute.'

'Yes, sir?' I turned back around.

'I can give you a job with my company. In one of our factories. Something that you could do, and that would pay quite well.'

'Oh?' I said. 'You mean in New York City, Mr. Brockton?'

'Or New Jersey. Newark. I think you'd like it, Ralph. I think it would be the best thing that ever happened to you.'

'Yes, sir,' I said. 'I guess you're probably right, Mr. Brockton, and I sure do appreciate the offer. But I guess not.'

'You guess not?' he said. 'Why not?'

'Well, I-I just guess I hadn't better,' I said. 'You see, I never lived anywhere but here. I've never been any further away than Atlantic Center, and that was just for a couple of hours. And just being away that far, that little time, I was so rattled and mixed up it was two-three days before I could calm down.'

'Oh, well,' he shrugged. 'You'd get over that.'

'I guess not,' I said. 'I mean, I can't, Mr. Brockton. It's kind of like I was rooted here, like I was one of them- those-shrubs. You try to put me down somewhere else, and-'

'Oh, I'm not trying to! Far be it from me to persuade a man against his will.'

He nodded, kind of huffy-like, and headed for the house. I drove away. I knew he was probably right. I kind of wished I could leave Manduwoc-just kind of, you know. And before that day was much older I was really wishing it, with hardly any kind-of at all. But there just wasn't any way that I could.

Luane would never leave here. Even if she would, what good would it do? Any place we went, people would laugh and talk about us like they'd always done here. There'd be the same stories. Well, not exactly the same, I guess, because outsiders wouldn't know about Pa. So they wouldn't be apt to say that Pa and Luane, well-that I was really her son instead of her husband. Or, her son as well as her husband. But however it was, it would be bad. And Luane would start striking back twice as hard, like she'd struck back here. Probably she'd do it anyhow, even if people did have the good manners and kindness to keep their mouths shut. Because she'd been the way she was now for so long, she'd lost the knack for being any other way.

I felt awful sorry for Luane. She'd sure given up a lot on my account. She was a lady, and she came from a proud old family. She'd been a good churchgoer and a charity worker, and everything like that. And then just because she wanted someone to love before she got too old for it, why there was all that dirtiness. Stuff that took the starch right out of you, and filled you up with something else. No, it didn't bother me too much; I guess I just didn't have enough sense to be bothered, and, of course, I never amounted to anything to begin with. But it did something pretty terrible to Luane. She didn't show it for a long time, except maybe a little around me. She had too much pride. But the hurt was there inside, festering and spreading, and finally breaking out. And then really getting bad. Getting a little worse the older she got.

I sure wished Luane could go away with me. I figured I could make out pretty fine with Luane. With someone like that, you know, someone who knew her way around and could tell you what to do-someone that really loved you and you could talk to, and-and…

Well, I guess I just hadn't wanted to face the facts there at Mr. J. B. Brockton's place. I mean, it was such an awful setback, I didn't feel like I could bear any more; I just couldn't admit that it would be the same way wherever else I went. Because what was I going to do if it was? How was I going to live? What would I do if I couldn't make out here, and I couldn't go any place else?

You can see how I'd be kind of stunned. So scared that I couldn't look at the truth even with my nose rubbed in it.

So, anyway, I went on to all the other estates. I made them all, just taking 'no' for an answer at first, and then arguing and finally begging. And, of course, it was the same story everywhere. I was just wasting my breath and my time. They were sorry, sure; most of 'em said they were, anyhow. But Bobbie Ashton had asked for the work, and Doc Ashton was an influential man-and he treated most of them-so Bobbie was going to get it.

It was noon by the time I'd gone to the last place I could go to. I drove down to the beach and ate the lunch I'd packed that morning. Gulping it down, not really tasting it.

Twenty-five years, I thought. Twenty-five years, but no, a man like me would probably live a lot longer than that. Thirty-five or forty, probably. Maybe even fifty or sixty. Fifty or sixty years with everything going out and nothing coming in!

Yes, there was a little work around town, for the local residents, you know. But it wasn't worth bothering with. Just fifty cents here and a dollar there. Anyway, the kids had it all sewed up.

I wondered if it would do any good for me to talk to Bobbie, but I didn't wonder long. He'd made up his mind to run me out of town- -to get back at Luane through me.

Doc Ashton settled here a little short of seventeen years ago. His wife had died in childbirth, so he had this Negro wet nurse for Bobbie, the woman who still works for them as housekeeper. Doc was quite a young man then. The woman was young, too-in fact, she's still fairly young- and pretty good-looking, besides.

Well, Bobbie was sick when he got here, the colic or something. And he no sooner got over that than he was hit by something else. Every disease you ever heard of practically, why Bobbie had it. One right after another. Year after year. He couldn't play with other kids, couldn't go to school; he was hardly out of the house for almost twelve years. Then, finally, I guess because he'd had every blamed sickness there was to get, he didn't get any more. He began to shoot up and broaden out. All at once, he was just about the healthiest, huskiest-and handsomest-kid you ever saw in your life. And smart! You couldn't believe a kid could be that smart, and probably you won't find many that are.

I suppose he got a lot of it from all those books he'd read when he couldn't do anything else. But there was plenty more to Bobbie's smartness than book-learning. He just seemed to have been born with a head on him, a head with all the answers. He could do things without being told how or reading about 'em, or maybe even hearing of 'em before. Not just lessons, you know, but anything!

He went through eight grades of grammar school in a year. He went through high school in a year and a half. At least he could have gone through, if he hadn't dropped out the last semester. Now, it didn't look like he'd be going to college; he wouldn't be studying to be a doctor. And how Doc Ashton would be feeling about that, I hated to think.

I wadded up my lunch sack and put it in a trash basket. Then, I got a drink of water from one of the