Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes

don't think of you as a boy."
    "Emotionally retarded then."
    "No."
    "Then, why?"
    "Charlie, don't push me. I don't know. Already, you've gone beyond my intellectual reach. In a few months or even weeks, you'll be a different person. When you mature intellectually, we may not be able to communicate. When you mature emotionally, you may not even want me. I've got to think of myself too, Charlie. Let's wait and see. Be patient."
    She was making sense, but I wasn't letting myself listen. "The other night—" I choked out, "You don't know how much I looked forward to that date. I was out of my mind wondering how to behave, what to say, wanting to make the best impression, and terrified I might say something to make you angry."
    "You didn't make me angry. I was flattered."
    "Then, when can I see you again?"
    "I have no right to let you get involved."
    "But I am involved!" I shouted, and then seeing people turn to look, I lowered my voice until it trembled with anger. "I'm a person—a man—and I can't live with just books and tapes and electronic mazes. You say, 'see other women.' How can I when I don't know any other women? Something inside is burning me up, and all I know is it makes me think of you. I'm in the middle of a page and I see your face on it—not blurred like those in my past, but clear and alive. I touch the page and your face is gone and I want to tear the book apart and throw it away."
    "Please, Charlie..."
    "Let me see you again."
    "Tomorrow at the lab."
    "You know that's not what I mean. Away from the lab. Away from the university. Alone."
    I could tell she wanted to say yes. She was surprised by my insistence. I was surprised at myself. I only knew that I couldn't stop pressing her. And yet there was a terror in my throat as I begged her. My palms were damp. Was I afraid she'd say no, or afraid she'd say yes? If she hadn't broken the tension by answering me, I think I would have fainted.
    "All right, Charlie. Away from the lab and the university, but not alone. I don't think we should be alone together."
    "Anywhere you say," I gasped. "Just so I can be with you and not think of tests ... statistics ... questions ... answers..."
    She frowned for a moment. "All right. They have free spring concerts in Central Park. Next week you can take me to one of the concerts."
    When we got to her doorway, she turned quickly and kissed my cheek. "Good night, Charlie. I'm glad you called me. I'll see you at the lab." She closed the door and I stood outside the building and looked at the light in her apartment window until it went out.
    There is no question about it now. I'm in love.

    May 11 —After all this thinking and worrying, I realized Alice was right. I had to trust my intuition. At the bakery, I watched Gimpy more closely. Three times today, I saw him undercharging customers and pocketing his portion of the difference as the customers passed money back to him. It was only with certain regular customers that he did it, and it occurred to me that these people were as guilty as he. Without their agreement this could never take place. Why should Gimpy be the scapegoat?
    That's when I decided on the compromise. It might not be the perfect decision, but it was my decision, and it seemed to be the best answer under the circumstances. I would tell Gimpy what I knew and warn him to stop.
    I got him alone back by the washroom, and when I came up to him he started away. "I've got something important to talk to you about," I said. "I want your advice for a friend who has a problem. He's discovered that one of his fellow employees is cheating his boss, and he doesn't know what to do about it. He doesn't like the idea of informing and getting the guy into trouble, but he won't stand by and let his boss—who has been good to both of them—be cheated."
    Gimpy looked at me hard. "What does this friend of yours plan to do about it?"
    "That's the trouble. He doesn't want to do anything. He feels if the stealing stops there would be