the corner by the back door.
We worked all morning. Mostly we was pretty silent. Sometimes we'd stand up to dump the dirty water and run fresh from the sink, and to rinse our rags and brushes out.
Sometimes Veronica tried to make conversation. "I declare," she said, all cheerful, "have you ever seen a floor this filthy? I'm amazed she doesn't have cockroaches, aren't you?"
"Probably does, in summer," Norman said.
I didn't even enter into that conversation. I just glared at my corner of the floor and scrubbed at it like I wanted to murder it. Underneath all the dirt, a yellow speckled linoleum was commencing to appear. If
me and Veronica was
alone,
like usual, we would've been talking about a million different things, movies and books and school and gossip. But Norman ruined all of that.
"You know what, Norman?" Veronica said, as she rinsed her rags at the sink. "Millie Bellows had a brother named Howard when she was a girl. And when Howard was fourteen, he fell through the ice in the river and was drowned. Isn't that the saddest thing?" She took her rinsed rags back to her bucket and knelt down on the floor again.
Norman grunted something. Then he said, "A deer went through the ice last winter. Right near the edge, down by the Mobil station. Dogs chased him and he ran out on the ice where it was thin."
"Oh, that's a shame," Veronica said. "Deer are so pretty." She moved her bucket and hitched herself across the floor to start on a new place.
"Remember we saw them two does with babies in the meadow last spring?" I said real loud to Veronica. "Like a couple of little Bambis? We oughta go back to that same spot this spring, I bet we'll see some more of them. Let's start out real early in the morning. We can take sandwiches and stuff." I felt this need to start a conversation with Veronica which would leave Norman out and remind him that me and Veronica had all this private stuff we was accustomed to doing together.
But Veronica was doing just the opposite. She was shifting things so they always included Norman. "Do you ever do that, Norman?" she asked, all polite. "Go
off outdoors for a whole day, and take your lunch?"
I interrupted so's he wouldn't even have a chance to answer. "Let's do it on a Sunday, Veronica," I said. See, I knew that the Coxes always had to go to church on Sunday morning. "We can take Gunther. I don't believe Gunther's ever had a chance to see a live deer close up, only the ones on them nature shows on TV." I stood up and walked real careful over the wet floor to the sink, to empty my bucket. While the water was running, I said real loud, aiming my voice at Norman, "Our family doesn't go to church so me and Veronica have all this free time on Sunday mornings."
"We go at Easter," Veronica said. "And at Christmas." She was doing it again: saying stuff that would include Norman, and I couldn't figure out why. All of a sudden I hated Veronica.
Millie Bellows interrupted us by coming to the kitchen door and demanding tea. Talk about rude; she could
see
that the kitchen floor was all sloshy and wet and that we was in the middle of hard work on it. But she insisted she wanted tea
right then,
and Veronica got up to put the kettle on. When the tea was ready, I dried my hands and took it in to her. Then I sat there with her and looked at the old photographs for the billionth time. But this time I didn't even listen to her stories about those olden days, nor ask any questions. I was-listening to the voices of Norman and Veronica in the kitchen, talking to each other while they scrubbed at the floor.
After a while Veronica came in all smiles, and said
that the floor was done. "Now that it's clean it's the prettiest yellow linoleum, Millie," she said. "And as soon as it's dry, Norman says he'll put the wax on."
"I guess I'll just go on home then," I said, "since you don't need me. I have a lot of stuff to do."
No one said anything. So I stood up and put my jacket on. Before I left, I said in a cool,
We worked all morning. Mostly we was pretty silent. Sometimes we'd stand up to dump the dirty water and run fresh from the sink, and to rinse our rags and brushes out.
Sometimes Veronica tried to make conversation. "I declare," she said, all cheerful, "have you ever seen a floor this filthy? I'm amazed she doesn't have cockroaches, aren't you?"
"Probably does, in summer," Norman said.
I didn't even enter into that conversation. I just glared at my corner of the floor and scrubbed at it like I wanted to murder it. Underneath all the dirt, a yellow speckled linoleum was commencing to appear. If
me and Veronica was
alone,
like usual, we would've been talking about a million different things, movies and books and school and gossip. But Norman ruined all of that.
"You know what, Norman?" Veronica said, as she rinsed her rags at the sink. "Millie Bellows had a brother named Howard when she was a girl. And when Howard was fourteen, he fell through the ice in the river and was drowned. Isn't that the saddest thing?" She took her rinsed rags back to her bucket and knelt down on the floor again.
Norman grunted something. Then he said, "A deer went through the ice last winter. Right near the edge, down by the Mobil station. Dogs chased him and he ran out on the ice where it was thin."
"Oh, that's a shame," Veronica said. "Deer are so pretty." She moved her bucket and hitched herself across the floor to start on a new place.
"Remember we saw them two does with babies in the meadow last spring?" I said real loud to Veronica. "Like a couple of little Bambis? We oughta go back to that same spot this spring, I bet we'll see some more of them. Let's start out real early in the morning. We can take sandwiches and stuff." I felt this need to start a conversation with Veronica which would leave Norman out and remind him that me and Veronica had all this private stuff we was accustomed to doing together.
But Veronica was doing just the opposite. She was shifting things so they always included Norman. "Do you ever do that, Norman?" she asked, all polite. "Go
off outdoors for a whole day, and take your lunch?"
I interrupted so's he wouldn't even have a chance to answer. "Let's do it on a Sunday, Veronica," I said. See, I knew that the Coxes always had to go to church on Sunday morning. "We can take Gunther. I don't believe Gunther's ever had a chance to see a live deer close up, only the ones on them nature shows on TV." I stood up and walked real careful over the wet floor to the sink, to empty my bucket. While the water was running, I said real loud, aiming my voice at Norman, "Our family doesn't go to church so me and Veronica have all this free time on Sunday mornings."
"We go at Easter," Veronica said. "And at Christmas." She was doing it again: saying stuff that would include Norman, and I couldn't figure out why. All of a sudden I hated Veronica.
Millie Bellows interrupted us by coming to the kitchen door and demanding tea. Talk about rude; she could
see
that the kitchen floor was all sloshy and wet and that we was in the middle of hard work on it. But she insisted she wanted tea
right then,
and Veronica got up to put the kettle on. When the tea was ready, I dried my hands and took it in to her. Then I sat there with her and looked at the old photographs for the billionth time. But this time I didn't even listen to her stories about those olden days, nor ask any questions. I was-listening to the voices of Norman and Veronica in the kitchen, talking to each other while they scrubbed at the floor.
After a while Veronica came in all smiles, and said
that the floor was done. "Now that it's clean it's the prettiest yellow linoleum, Millie," she said. "And as soon as it's dry, Norman says he'll put the wax on."
"I guess I'll just go on home then," I said, "since you don't need me. I have a lot of stuff to do."
No one said anything. So I stood up and put my jacket on. Before I left, I said in a cool,
Similar Books
