barbecue?”
“Nobody’s. Big collective thing at Delmar Lake. We’re all supposed to bring something like a sack of beers or franks and the entrance is one dollar. Goes to the summer recreation center at Chalmerston High. They’re trying to keep it open, you know, with a cut budget.”
Arthur wasn’t interested in the Chalmerston High recreation center. “Sounds boring. Doubt if I’ll go, but thanks for telling me.”
Gus was standing by the cash register. “What’re you doing tomorrow? I’ve got the day sort of free.”
Arthur handed him the paper bag with his new shoes. “I’m over at Mrs. DeWitt’s doing yard work. Starting around ten tomorrow morning. Didn’t I tell you I was working there lately? Gets me out of church Sunday mornings.” Arthur smiled.
“Maybe I’ll cruise over and see you. Round eleven?”
“Okay. Fine.”
“Got to fix somebody’s busted dishwasher starting nine-thirty, ten. If I get it fixed—” He waved a hand and departed.
To Arthur’s surprise, Robbie was going to the Delmar Lake barbecue that evening, and was to be picked up by his fishing pal Jeff at 7. At 6:30, Robbie was in the living room in a new red-and-white-checked shirt and new blue jeans—genuine Levi’s, standing out now like Dutchman’s-breeches—presents from Grandma, Robbie said. With his new deep voice, Robbie was at last ready to crash the teenage social set, Arthur supposed.
“You’re not going?” asked Robbie.
“Nope.—Have a good time, Robbie,” Arthur said.
Robbie was duly called for at 7, and went striding down the front walk toward the waiting car. In the new Levi’s, he reminded Arthur of a bird, maybe a swallow walking on a split tail.
“Robbie’s so pleased—going out tonight. Did you notice, Mama?” asked Lois.
“Of course I did.—It’ll be good for him.”
Arthur’s mother and grandmother were in the kitchen, his father, too, drinking what looked like Tom Collinses. Arthur made himself a gin and tonic. It seemed to Arthur that his father deliberately avoided talking to him or even looking at him, though he was smiling a lot this evening. His grandmother had persuaded his father to play golf with her tomorrow afternoon. Arthur said he would be working, when his grandmother had asked if he could join them, and Lois begged off because she wanted to check the curtain measurements again.
“If I measure them all again when I’m alone, I can be sure I didn’t make any mistakes. Or if I do make a mistake, then it’s my fault entirely.”
“Where’re you working tomorrow, Arthur?” asked his grandmother.
“Same old place. Mrs. DeWitt’s cathouse.”
“Arthur, do you have to use that expression?” said his mother, but she was smiling a little.
“Your grandmother’s coming to church,” his father said. “Why don’t you come along? Work in the afternoon.”
“No, it’s ten o’clock again at Mrs. DeWitt’s and she’s pretty fussy,” Arthur said as if it were a pity.
That evening, Arthur read a book he had borrowed from the public library on deep sea exploration. It had a section of color photographs, some of phosphorescent animalcules which had always fascinated Arthur. A group of scientists had dived in something like a glass submarine off the Galapagos Islands and discovered geysers of unusually warm water at great depth. The warmth of the water had enabled huge worms and foot-wide red clams to live down there, all of the life forms having adapted themselves to the terrific pressure, so that now they never came even halfway to the surface. Arthur wondered if he would ever make it to a ship like the one the book described, to be one of a team of scientists diving in glass bells to look at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean? The deep sea book was the only thing that kept his thoughts from Maggie that evening. Usually he loved daydreaming about her, but now anxiety seized him when he thought of her. Something could go wrong, and she could die.
By 10 the
“Nobody’s. Big collective thing at Delmar Lake. We’re all supposed to bring something like a sack of beers or franks and the entrance is one dollar. Goes to the summer recreation center at Chalmerston High. They’re trying to keep it open, you know, with a cut budget.”
Arthur wasn’t interested in the Chalmerston High recreation center. “Sounds boring. Doubt if I’ll go, but thanks for telling me.”
Gus was standing by the cash register. “What’re you doing tomorrow? I’ve got the day sort of free.”
Arthur handed him the paper bag with his new shoes. “I’m over at Mrs. DeWitt’s doing yard work. Starting around ten tomorrow morning. Didn’t I tell you I was working there lately? Gets me out of church Sunday mornings.” Arthur smiled.
“Maybe I’ll cruise over and see you. Round eleven?”
“Okay. Fine.”
“Got to fix somebody’s busted dishwasher starting nine-thirty, ten. If I get it fixed—” He waved a hand and departed.
To Arthur’s surprise, Robbie was going to the Delmar Lake barbecue that evening, and was to be picked up by his fishing pal Jeff at 7. At 6:30, Robbie was in the living room in a new red-and-white-checked shirt and new blue jeans—genuine Levi’s, standing out now like Dutchman’s-breeches—presents from Grandma, Robbie said. With his new deep voice, Robbie was at last ready to crash the teenage social set, Arthur supposed.
“You’re not going?” asked Robbie.
“Nope.—Have a good time, Robbie,” Arthur said.
Robbie was duly called for at 7, and went striding down the front walk toward the waiting car. In the new Levi’s, he reminded Arthur of a bird, maybe a swallow walking on a split tail.
“Robbie’s so pleased—going out tonight. Did you notice, Mama?” asked Lois.
“Of course I did.—It’ll be good for him.”
Arthur’s mother and grandmother were in the kitchen, his father, too, drinking what looked like Tom Collinses. Arthur made himself a gin and tonic. It seemed to Arthur that his father deliberately avoided talking to him or even looking at him, though he was smiling a lot this evening. His grandmother had persuaded his father to play golf with her tomorrow afternoon. Arthur said he would be working, when his grandmother had asked if he could join them, and Lois begged off because she wanted to check the curtain measurements again.
“If I measure them all again when I’m alone, I can be sure I didn’t make any mistakes. Or if I do make a mistake, then it’s my fault entirely.”
“Where’re you working tomorrow, Arthur?” asked his grandmother.
“Same old place. Mrs. DeWitt’s cathouse.”
“Arthur, do you have to use that expression?” said his mother, but she was smiling a little.
“Your grandmother’s coming to church,” his father said. “Why don’t you come along? Work in the afternoon.”
“No, it’s ten o’clock again at Mrs. DeWitt’s and she’s pretty fussy,” Arthur said as if it were a pity.
That evening, Arthur read a book he had borrowed from the public library on deep sea exploration. It had a section of color photographs, some of phosphorescent animalcules which had always fascinated Arthur. A group of scientists had dived in something like a glass submarine off the Galapagos Islands and discovered geysers of unusually warm water at great depth. The warmth of the water had enabled huge worms and foot-wide red clams to live down there, all of the life forms having adapted themselves to the terrific pressure, so that now they never came even halfway to the surface. Arthur wondered if he would ever make it to a ship like the one the book described, to be one of a team of scientists diving in glass bells to look at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean? The deep sea book was the only thing that kept his thoughts from Maggie that evening. Usually he loved daydreaming about her, but now anxiety seized him when he thought of her. Something could go wrong, and she could die.
By 10 the
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