asked.
“Wel , my mother does. He’s got the patience for it, she says. Maybe he’l be a professor, even,” Jenny told him. But she wasn’t so certain now. “I mean, it’s not a lifework, restaurants.”
“Why isn’t it?”
She couldn’t answer.
“Ezra’s going to have him a place where people come just like to a family dinner,” Josiah said. “He’l cook them one thing special each day and dish it out on their plates and everything wil be solid and wholesome, real y homelike.”
“Ezra told you that?”
“Real y just like home.”
“Wel , I don’t know, maybe people go to restaurants to get away from home.”
“It’s going to be famous,” Josiah said.
“You have the wrong idea entirely,” Jenny told him. “How did you come up with such a crazy notion?” Then without warning, Josiah went back to being his old self—or her old picture of him. He dropped his head, like a marionette whose strings had snapped. “I got to go,” he told her.
“Josiah?”
“Don’t want those people yel ing at me.” He loped away without saying goodbye. Jenny watched after him as regretful y as if he were Ezra himself. He didn’t look back.
Cody wrote that he was being interviewed by several corporations. He wanted a job in business after he finished school. Ezra wrote that he could march twenty miles at a go now without much tiring. It began to seem less incongruous, even perfectly natural, that Ezra should be a soldier. After al , wasn’t he an enduring sort, uncomplaining, cheerful in performing his duties?
Jenny had worried needlessly. Her mother too seemed to relax somewhat. “Real y it’s for the best, when you think about it,” she said. “A stint in the service is often just the ticket; gives a boy time to get hold of himself. I bet when he comes back, he’l want to go to col ege. I bet he’l want to teach someplace.”
Jenny didn’t tel her about his restaurant.
Twice, after her first visit to Josiah, she looked in on him again. She would stop by the body shop after school, and Josiah would come outside a moment to swing his arms and gaze beyond her and speak of Ezra.
“Got a letter from him myself, over at the house.
Claimed he was marching a lot.”
“Twenty miles,” Jenny said.
“Some of it uphil .”
“He must be in pretty good shape by now.”
“He always did like to walk.”
The third time she came, it was almost dark. She’d stayed late for chorus. Josiah was just leaving work.
He was getting into his jacket, which was made of a large, shaggy plaid in muted shades of navy and maroon.
She thought of the jackets that little boys wore in the lower grades of school. “That Tom,”
Josiah said, jabbing his fists in his pockets. “That Eddie.” He strode rapidly down the sidewalk. Jenny had trouble keeping up. “They don’t care how they talk to a fel ow,” he said.
“Don’t give a thought to what he might feel; feelings just like anyone else…”
She dropped back, deciding that he’d rather be alone, but partway down the block he stopped and turned and waited. “Aren’t I a human being?” he asked when she arrived at his side. “Don’t I feel bad if someone shouts at me? I wish I were out in the woods someplace, none of these people to bother me. Camping out in a dead, dead quiet with a little private tent from L. L. Bean and a L. L.
Bean sleeping bag.” He turned and rushed on; Jenny had to run. “I’ve half a mind to give notice,” he said.
“Why don’t you, then?”
“My mama needs the money.”
“You could find something else.”
“Oh, no, it isn’t easy.”
“Why not?”
He didn’t answer. They raced past a discount jewelry store, a bakery, a bank of private apartments with inviting yel ow windows. Then he said, “Come and have supper at our house.”
“What? Oh, I can’t.”
“Ezra used to come,” he said, “back before he worked in the restaurant and couldn’t get away. My mama was always glad to set an extra
“Wel , my mother does. He’s got the patience for it, she says. Maybe he’l be a professor, even,” Jenny told him. But she wasn’t so certain now. “I mean, it’s not a lifework, restaurants.”
“Why isn’t it?”
She couldn’t answer.
“Ezra’s going to have him a place where people come just like to a family dinner,” Josiah said. “He’l cook them one thing special each day and dish it out on their plates and everything wil be solid and wholesome, real y homelike.”
“Ezra told you that?”
“Real y just like home.”
“Wel , I don’t know, maybe people go to restaurants to get away from home.”
“It’s going to be famous,” Josiah said.
“You have the wrong idea entirely,” Jenny told him. “How did you come up with such a crazy notion?” Then without warning, Josiah went back to being his old self—or her old picture of him. He dropped his head, like a marionette whose strings had snapped. “I got to go,” he told her.
“Josiah?”
“Don’t want those people yel ing at me.” He loped away without saying goodbye. Jenny watched after him as regretful y as if he were Ezra himself. He didn’t look back.
Cody wrote that he was being interviewed by several corporations. He wanted a job in business after he finished school. Ezra wrote that he could march twenty miles at a go now without much tiring. It began to seem less incongruous, even perfectly natural, that Ezra should be a soldier. After al , wasn’t he an enduring sort, uncomplaining, cheerful in performing his duties?
Jenny had worried needlessly. Her mother too seemed to relax somewhat. “Real y it’s for the best, when you think about it,” she said. “A stint in the service is often just the ticket; gives a boy time to get hold of himself. I bet when he comes back, he’l want to go to col ege. I bet he’l want to teach someplace.”
Jenny didn’t tel her about his restaurant.
Twice, after her first visit to Josiah, she looked in on him again. She would stop by the body shop after school, and Josiah would come outside a moment to swing his arms and gaze beyond her and speak of Ezra.
“Got a letter from him myself, over at the house.
Claimed he was marching a lot.”
“Twenty miles,” Jenny said.
“Some of it uphil .”
“He must be in pretty good shape by now.”
“He always did like to walk.”
The third time she came, it was almost dark. She’d stayed late for chorus. Josiah was just leaving work.
He was getting into his jacket, which was made of a large, shaggy plaid in muted shades of navy and maroon.
She thought of the jackets that little boys wore in the lower grades of school. “That Tom,”
Josiah said, jabbing his fists in his pockets. “That Eddie.” He strode rapidly down the sidewalk. Jenny had trouble keeping up. “They don’t care how they talk to a fel ow,” he said.
“Don’t give a thought to what he might feel; feelings just like anyone else…”
She dropped back, deciding that he’d rather be alone, but partway down the block he stopped and turned and waited. “Aren’t I a human being?” he asked when she arrived at his side. “Don’t I feel bad if someone shouts at me? I wish I were out in the woods someplace, none of these people to bother me. Camping out in a dead, dead quiet with a little private tent from L. L. Bean and a L. L.
Bean sleeping bag.” He turned and rushed on; Jenny had to run. “I’ve half a mind to give notice,” he said.
“Why don’t you, then?”
“My mama needs the money.”
“You could find something else.”
“Oh, no, it isn’t easy.”
“Why not?”
He didn’t answer. They raced past a discount jewelry store, a bakery, a bank of private apartments with inviting yel ow windows. Then he said, “Come and have supper at our house.”
“What? Oh, I can’t.”
“Ezra used to come,” he said, “back before he worked in the restaurant and couldn’t get away. My mama was always glad to set an extra
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