The day of the locust by Nathanael West Page A

bitterest quarrels often took this form; he laughing, she singing.
    "Jeepers Creepers! Where'd ya get those eyes? Gosh, all git up! How'd they get so lit up? Gosh all git..."
    When Harry stopped, she stopped and flung herself into a chair. But Harry was only gathering strength for a final effort. He began again. This new laugh was not critical; it was horrible. When she was a child, he used to punish her with it. It was his masterpiece. There was a director who always called on him to give it when he was shooting a scene in an insane asylum or a haunted castle.
    It began with a sharp, metallic crackle, like burning sticks, then gradually increased in volume until it became a rapid bark, then fell away again to an obscene chuckle. After a slight pause, it climbed until it was the nicker of a horse, then still higher to become a machinelike screech.
    Faye listened helplessly with her head cocked on one side. Suddenly, she too laughed, not willingly, but fighting the sound.
    "You bastard!" she yelled.
    She leaped to the couch, grabbed him by the shoulders and tried to shake him quiet.
    He kept laughing.
    Homer moved as though he meant to pull her away, but he lost courage and was afraid to touch her. She was so naked under her skimpy dress.
    "Miss Greener," he pleaded, making his big hands dance at the end of his arms. "Please, please..."
    Harry couldn't stop laughing now. He pressed his belly with his hands, but the noise poured out of him. It had begun to hurt again.
    Swinging her hand as though it held a hammer, she brought her fist down hard on his mouth. She hit him only once. He relaxed and was quiet.
    "I had to do it," she said to Homer when he took her arm and led her away.
    He guided her to a chair in the kitchen and shut the door. She continued to sob for a long time. He stood behind her chair, helplessly, watching the rhythmical heave of her shoulders. Several times his hands moved forward to comfort her, but he succeeded in curbing them.
    When she was through crying, he handed her a napkin and she dried her face. The cloth was badly stained by her rouge and mascara.
    "I've spoilt it," she said, keeping her face averted. "I'm very sorry."
    "It was dirty," Homer said.
    She took a compact from her pocket and looked at herself in its tiny mirror.
    "I'm a fright."
    She asked if she could use the bathroom and he showed her where it was. He then tiptoed into the living room to see Harry. The old man's breathing was noisy but regular and he seemed to be sleeping quietly. Homer put a cushion under his head without disturbing him and went back into the kitchen. He lit the stove and put the coffeepot on the flame, then sat down to wait for the girl to return: He heard her go into the living room. A few seconds later she came into the kitchen.
    She hesitated apologetically in the doorway.
    "Won't you have some coffee?"
    Without waiting for her to reply, he poured a cup and moved the sugar and cream so that she could reach them. "I had to do it," she said. "I just had to."
    "That's all right."
    To show her that it wasn't necessary to apologize, he busied himself at the sink.
    "No, I had to," she insisted. "He laughs that way just to drive me wild. I can't stand it. I simply can't."
    "Yes."
    "He's crazy. We Greeners are all crazy."
    She made this last statement as though there were merit in being crazy.
    "He's pretty sick," Homer said, apologizing for her. "Maybe he had a sunstroke."
    "No, he's crazy."
    He put a plate of gingersnaps on the table and she ate them with her second cup of coffee. The dainty crunching sound she made chewing fascinated him.
    When she remained quiet for several minutes, he turned from the sink to see if anything was wrong. She was smoking a cigarette and seemed lost in thought.
    He tried to be gay.
    "What are you thinking?" he said awkwardly, then felt foolish.
    She sighed to show how dark and foreboding her thoughts were, but didn't reply.
    "I'll bet you would like some candy," Homer said. "There isn't