The Assistant by Bernard Malamud Page B

grandmother?”
    â€œThe world has shrunk for me.”
    â€œWhat do you wanna be—Miss Rheingold?”
    â€œI want a larger and better life. I want the return of my possibilities.”
    â€œSuch as which ones?”
    She clutched the rail, cold through her gloves. “Education,” she said, “prospects. Things I’ve wanted but never had.”
    â€œAlso a man?”
    â€œAlso a man.”
    His arm tightened around her waist. “Talk is too cold, baby, how’s about a kiss?”
    She brushed his cold lips, then averted her head. He did not press her.
    â€œLouis,” she said, watching a far-off light on the water, “what do you want out of your life?”
    He kept his arm around her. “The same thing I got—plus.”
    â€œPlus what?”
    â€œPlus more, so my wife and family can have also.”
    â€œWhat if she wanted something different than you do?”
    â€œWhatever she wanted I would gladly give her.”
    â€œBut what if she wanted to make herself a better person, have bigger ideas, live a more worthwhile life? We die so quickly, so helplessly. Life has to have some meaning.”
    â€œI ain’t gonna stop anybody from being better,” Louis said, “That’s up to them.”
    â€œI suppose,” she said.

    â€œSay, baby, let’s drop this deep philosophy and go trap a hamburger. My stomach complains.”
    â€œJust a little longer. It’s been ages since I came here this late in the year.”
    He pumped his arms. “Jesus, this wind, it flies up my pants. At least gimme another kiss.” He unbuttoned his overcoat.
    She let him kiss her. He felt her breast. Helen stepped back out of his embrace. “Don’t, Louis.”
    â€œWhy not?” He stood there awkwardly, annoyed.
    â€œIt gives me no pleasure.”
    â€œI suppose I’m the first guy that ever gave it a nip?”
    â€œAre you collecting statistics?”
    â€œOkay,” he said, “I’m sorry. You know I ain’t a bad guy, Helen.”
    â€œI know you’re not, but please don’t do what I don’t like.”
    â€œThere was a time you treated me a whole lot better.”
    â€œThat was the past, we were kids.”
    It’s funny, she remembered, how necking made glorious dreams.
    â€œWe were older than that, up till the time Nat Pearl started in college, then you got interested in him. I suppose you got him in mind for the future?”
    â€œIf I do, I don’t know it.”
    â€œBut he’s the one you want, ain’t he? I like to know what that stuck up has got beside a college education? I work for my living.”
    â€œNo, I don’t want him, Louis.” But she thought, Suppose Nat said I love you? For magic words a girl might do magic tricks.
    â€œSo if that’s so, what’s wrong with me?”
    â€œNothing. We’re friends.”
    â€œFriends I got all I need.”
    â€œWhat do you need, Louis?”
    â€œCut out the wisecracks, Helen. Would it interest you that I would honestly like to marry you?” He paled at his nerve.
    She was surprised, touched.

    â€œThank you,” she murmured.
    â€œThank you ain’t good enough. Give me yes or no.”
    â€œNo, Louis.”
    â€œThat’s what I thought.” He gazed blankly at the ocean.
    â€œI never guessed you were at all remotely interested. You go with girls who are so different from me.”
    â€œPlease, when I go with them you can’t see my thoughts.”
    â€œNo,” she admitted.
    â€œI can give you a whole lot better than you got.”
    â€œI know you can, but I want a different life from mine now, or yours. I don’t want a storekeeper for a husband.”
    â€œWines and liquors ain’t exactly pisher groceries.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œIt ain’t because your old man don’t like mine?”
    â€œNo.”
    She listened to the wind-driven,