Still she didn’t say anything. She stared at me without winking. Then she looked back at the folks at the fountain. Then she looked past me, toward the back of the store.
“Do you want to look at some toilet things?” I said. “Or is it medicine you want?”
“That’s it,” she said. She looked quick back at the fountain again. So I thought maybe her ma or somebody had sent her in for some of this female dope and she was ashamed to ask for it. I knew she couldn’t have a complexion like hers and use it herself, let alone not being much more than old enough to barely know what it was for. It’s a shame, the way they poison themselves with it. But a man’s got to stock it or go out of business in this country.
“Oh,” I said. “What do you use? We have—” She looked at me again, almost like she had said hush, and looked toward the back of the store again.
“I’d liefer go back there,” she said.
“All right,” I said. You have to humour them. You save time by it. I followed her to the back She put her hand on the gate. “There’s nothing back there but the prescription case,” I said. “What do you want?” She stopped and looked at me. It was like she had taken some kind of a lid off her face, her eyes. It was her eyes: kind of dumb and hopeful and sullenly willing to be disappointed all at the same time. But she was in trouble of some sort; I could see that. “What’s your trouble?” I said. “Tell me what it is you want. I’m pretty busy.” I wasn’t meaning to hurry her, but a man just hasn’t got the time they have out there.
“It’s the female trouble,” she said.
“Oh,” I said. “Is that all?” I thought maybe she was younger than she looked, and her first one had scared her, or maybe one had been a little abnormal as it will in young women. “Where’s your ma?” I said. “Haven’t you got one?”
“She’s out yonder in the wagon,” she said.
“Why not talk to her about it before you take any medicine,” I said. “Any woman would have told you about it.” She looked at me, and I looked at her again and said, “How old are you?”
“Seventeen,” she said.
“Oh,” I said. “I thought maybe you were …” She was watching me. But then, in the eyes all of them look like they had no age and knew everything in the world, anyhow. “Are you too regular, or not regular enough?”
She quit looking at me but she didn’t move. “Yes,” she said. “I reckon so. Yes.”
“Well, which?” I said. “Don’t you know?” It’s a crime and a shame; but after all, they’ll buy it from somebody. She stood there, not looking at me. “You want something to stop it?” I said. “Is that it?”
“No,” she said. “That’s it. It’s already stopped.”
“Well, what—” Her face was lowered a little, still, like they do in all their dealings with a man so he don’t ever know just where the lightning will strike next. “You are not married, are you?” I said.
“No.”
“Oh,” I said. “And how long has it been since it stopped? about five months maybe?”
“It ain’t been but two,” she said.
“Well, I haven’t got anything in my store you want to buy,” I said, “unless it’s a nipple. And I’d advise you to buy that and go back home and tell your pa, if you have one, and let him make somebody buy you a wedding licence. Was that all you wanted?”
But she just stood there, not looking at me.
“I got the money to pay you,” she said.
“Is it your own, or did he act enough of a man to give you the money?”
“He give it to me. Ten dollars. He said that would be enough.”
“A thousand dollars wouldn’t be enough in my store and ten cents wouldn’t be enough,” I said. “You take my advice and go home and tell you pa or your brothers if you have any or the first man you come to in the road.”
But she didn’t move. “Lafe said I could get it at the drugstore. He said to tell you me and him wouldn’t never tell nobody you sold it to us.”
“And I just wish your precious Lafe had come for it himself; that’s what I wish. I don’t know: I’d have had a little respect for him then. And you can go back and tell him I said so—if he ain’t halfway to Texas by now, which I don’t doubt. Me, a respectable druggist, that’s kept store and raised a family and been a church-member for fifty-six years in this town. I’m a good mind to tell your folks myself, if I can just find who they are.”
She looked at me now, her eyes and face kind of blank again like when I first saw her through the window. “I didn’t know,” she said. “He told me I could get something at the drugstore. He said they might not want to sell it to me, but if I had ten dollars and told them I wouldn’t never tell nobody …”
“He never said this drugstore,” I said. “If he did or mentioned my name, I defy him to prove it. I defy him to repeat it or I’ll prosecute him to the full extent of the law, and you can tell him so.”
“But maybe another drugstore would,” she said.
“Then I don’t want to know it. Me, that’s—” Then I looked at her. But it’s a hard life they have; sometimes a man … if there can ever be any excuse for sin, which it can’t be. And then, life wasn’t made to be
