without her seeing me, go back and get the car, and just happen to be driving by on my way to the river to go swimming. That would be plausible enough.
I had just started to turn away when somebody beat me to it. I heard a car coming along the road, and then I knew whoever it was had seen her there on the porch because he slowed abruptly and turned in. I looked back towards the house. She had put down the brush and was watching apprehensively as the man got out of his car. It was Sutton.
He walked over to the porch and said something I couldn’t hear. I watched her, and it wasn’t uneasiness alone that was in her expression; there was loathing too. Knowing they wouldn’t be watching the barn now, I moved to the front door and peered out. I could hear them there. I waited.
“And how’s my little chum today?” he said.
“If you mean me,” she said, “I’m very well, thank you.”
“Well, you look nice, honey. Nice outfit, too.” He grinned and looked her up and down, taking it off as he went. “And you sure have the legs for it, haven’t you, baby?”
“Did you want to see me about something?” she asked coldly.
“No. No. Just stopped for a minute to say hello. By the way, where’s your friend this morning?”
“Which friend?”
“Big Boy, what’s his name.”
“Do you mean Mr. Madox?”
“I guess so. Anyway, the guy you came out to the house with the other day. I saw you going to the movies the other night, and figured you was kind of chummy. Maybe he’s a little funny, too, huh?”
“Funny?” I could see the revulsion on her face.
“You know what I mean, baby.”
I could feel my hands digging against the door frame. Was that what was behind that dirty joke of his and the contemptuous grin? He couldn’t mean anything else, the way he had said it. But to her? Was he crazy? Or just stupid?
“Would you leave now?” she asked, her voice on the ragged edge of going all to pieces. “Or would you mind if I did?”
“Oh, I was just going. But you mind if I see your picture? I’m a great art lover, myself.”
Without a word she tore it off the block and handed it to him, as if she didn’t want him to defile more than one sheet of paper. He took it and pretended to study it with great seriousness, holding it at arm’s length and nodding his head like an instructor.
“Promising,” he said. “Very promising. But, honey, don’t you think it needs a little red? To kind of overburden the harmisfralcher?”
She said nothing. He reached down for one of the brushes, dipped it into the plate, and smeared it across the paper. He handed it back to her. She let it slide to the ground. It was sickening.
I started out the door, and caught myself just in time. What was I, a sap? He wasn’t bothering me, was he? I was supposed to be looking out for Harry Madox, not making a chump of myself for nothing. I stayed where I was.
“Well, I’ll see you around, baby,” he said. He got in his car and drove off.
She sat there for a few minutes after he left, just staring off at nothing, and then she slowly gathered everything up and put it in the car. When she was out of sight down the road I walked over to the porch. The picture was lying face up in the sand. I picked it up. It looked fine except for the smear of red he had drawn across it from one corner to the other. He liked his little joke, all right.
One of these days somebody would probably kill him. I wondered who.
Monday evening while I was putting on a fresh shirt the landlady knocked on the door.
“Telephone, Mr. Madox.”
I went down the hall to the phone. “Hello. Madox,” I said.
“Harry,” she said, “why didn’t you call me?”
“You think I’m crazy?”
“I want to see you, Harry.”
“Look—”
“I miss you.”
I started to tell her to go to hell and then hang up, but I didn’t. I began to think about her. She could do that to you, even on the phone. Maybe it was because her voice matched the rest of
I had just started to turn away when somebody beat me to it. I heard a car coming along the road, and then I knew whoever it was had seen her there on the porch because he slowed abruptly and turned in. I looked back towards the house. She had put down the brush and was watching apprehensively as the man got out of his car. It was Sutton.
He walked over to the porch and said something I couldn’t hear. I watched her, and it wasn’t uneasiness alone that was in her expression; there was loathing too. Knowing they wouldn’t be watching the barn now, I moved to the front door and peered out. I could hear them there. I waited.
“And how’s my little chum today?” he said.
“If you mean me,” she said, “I’m very well, thank you.”
“Well, you look nice, honey. Nice outfit, too.” He grinned and looked her up and down, taking it off as he went. “And you sure have the legs for it, haven’t you, baby?”
“Did you want to see me about something?” she asked coldly.
“No. No. Just stopped for a minute to say hello. By the way, where’s your friend this morning?”
“Which friend?”
“Big Boy, what’s his name.”
“Do you mean Mr. Madox?”
“I guess so. Anyway, the guy you came out to the house with the other day. I saw you going to the movies the other night, and figured you was kind of chummy. Maybe he’s a little funny, too, huh?”
“Funny?” I could see the revulsion on her face.
“You know what I mean, baby.”
I could feel my hands digging against the door frame. Was that what was behind that dirty joke of his and the contemptuous grin? He couldn’t mean anything else, the way he had said it. But to her? Was he crazy? Or just stupid?
“Would you leave now?” she asked, her voice on the ragged edge of going all to pieces. “Or would you mind if I did?”
“Oh, I was just going. But you mind if I see your picture? I’m a great art lover, myself.”
Without a word she tore it off the block and handed it to him, as if she didn’t want him to defile more than one sheet of paper. He took it and pretended to study it with great seriousness, holding it at arm’s length and nodding his head like an instructor.
“Promising,” he said. “Very promising. But, honey, don’t you think it needs a little red? To kind of overburden the harmisfralcher?”
She said nothing. He reached down for one of the brushes, dipped it into the plate, and smeared it across the paper. He handed it back to her. She let it slide to the ground. It was sickening.
I started out the door, and caught myself just in time. What was I, a sap? He wasn’t bothering me, was he? I was supposed to be looking out for Harry Madox, not making a chump of myself for nothing. I stayed where I was.
“Well, I’ll see you around, baby,” he said. He got in his car and drove off.
She sat there for a few minutes after he left, just staring off at nothing, and then she slowly gathered everything up and put it in the car. When she was out of sight down the road I walked over to the porch. The picture was lying face up in the sand. I picked it up. It looked fine except for the smear of red he had drawn across it from one corner to the other. He liked his little joke, all right.
One of these days somebody would probably kill him. I wondered who.
Monday evening while I was putting on a fresh shirt the landlady knocked on the door.
“Telephone, Mr. Madox.”
I went down the hall to the phone. “Hello. Madox,” I said.
“Harry,” she said, “why didn’t you call me?”
“You think I’m crazy?”
“I want to see you, Harry.”
“Look—”
“I miss you.”
I started to tell her to go to hell and then hang up, but I didn’t. I began to think about her. She could do that to you, even on the phone. Maybe it was because her voice matched the rest of
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