The Woman-Haters Part 16

"Well, I DIDN'T. And I didn't HAVE to talk. Couldn't if I wanted to; she done it all. Her tongue was hung on ball-bearin' hinges and was a self-winder guaranteed to run an hour steady every time she set it goin'. Talk! my jiminy crimps, how that woman could talk! I couldn't get away; I tried to, but, my soul, she wouldn't let me. And, if 'twas a warm night, she'd more'n likely have a pitcher of lemonade or some sort of cold wash alongside, and I must stop and taste it. By time, I can taste it yet!

"Well, there wa'n't no harm in her at all; she was just a fool that had to talk to somebody, males preferred. But my stayin' out nights wasn't helpin' the joyfulness of things to home, and one evenin'--one evenin'

. . . Oh, there! I started to tell you this and I might's well get it over.

"This evenin' when I came home from the store I see somethin' was extry wrong soon's I struck the settin' room. Emeline was there, and Bennie D., and I give you my word, I felt like turnin' up my coat collar, 'twas so frosty. 'Twas hotter'n a steamer's stoke-hole outside, but that room was forty below zero.

"n.o.body SAID nothin', you know--that was the worst of it; but I'd have been glad if they had. Finally, I said it myself. 'Well, Emeline,' says I, 'here I be.'

"No answer, so I tried again. 'Well, Emeline,' says I, 'I've fetched port finally.'

"She didn't answer me then, but Bennie D. laughed. He had a way of laughin' that made other folks want to cry--or kill him. For choice I'd have done the killin' first.

"'More nautical conversation, sister,' says he. 'He knows how fond you are of that sort of thing.'

"You see, Emeline never did like to hear me talk sailor talk; it reminded her too much that I used to be a sailor, I s'pose. And that inventor knew she didn't like it, and so he rubbed it in every time I made a slip. 'Twas just one of his little ways; he had a million of 'em.

"But I tried once more. 'Emeline,' I says, 'I'm home. Can't you speak to me?'

"Then she looked at me. 'Yes, Seth,' says she, 'I see you are home.'

"'At last,' put in brother-in-law, '"There is no place like home"--when the other places are shut up.' And he laughed again.

"'Stop, Bennie,' says Emeline, and he stopped. That was another of his little ways--to do anything she asked him. Then she turned to me.

"'Seth,' she asks, 'where have you been?'

"'Oh, down street,' says I, casual. 'It's turrible warm out.'

"She never paid no attention to the weather signals. 'Where 'bouts down street?' she wanted to know.

"'Oh, down to the store,' I says.

"'You go to the store a good deal, don't you,' says she. Bennie D.

chuckled, and then begged her pardon. That chuckle stirred my mad up.

"'I go where folks seem to be glad to see me,' I says. 'Where they treat me as if I was somebody.'

"'So you was at the store the whole evenin'?' she asks.

"'Course I was,' says I. 'Where else would I be?'

"She looked at me hard, and her face sort of set. She didn't answer, but took up the sewin' in her lap and went to work on it. I remember she dropped it once, and Bennie D. jumped to pick it up for her, quick as a wink. I set down in the rockin' chair and took the Gloucester paper. But I didn't really read. The clock ticked and ticked, and 'twas so still you could hear every stroke of the pendulum. Finally, I couldn't stand it no longer.

"'What on earth is the matter?' I sings out. 'What have I done this time? Don't you WANT me to go to the store? Is that it?'

"She put down her sewin'. 'Seth,' says she, quiet but awful cold, 'I want you to go anywheres that you want to go. I never'll stand in your way. But I want you tell the truth about it afterwards.'

"'The truth?' says I. 'Don't I always tell you the truth?'

"'No,' says she. 'You've lied to me tonight. You've been callin' on the Christy woman, and you know it.'

"Well, you could have knocked me down with a baby's rattle. I'd forgot all about that fool Sarah Ann. I cal'late I turned nineteen different shades of red, and for a minute I couldn't think of a word to say. And Bennie D. smiled, wicked as the Old Harry himself.

"'How--how did you--how do you know I see Sarah Ann Christy?' I hollered out, soon's I could get my breath.

"'Because you were seen there,' says she.

"'Who see me?'

"'I did,' says she. 'I went down street myself, on an errand, and, bein'

as you weren't here to go with me, Bennie was good enough to go. It ain't pleasant for a woman to go out alone after dark, and--and I have never been used to it,' she says.

"That kind of hurt me and p.r.i.c.ked my conscience, as you may say.

"'You know I'd been tickled to death to go with you, Emeline,' I says.

'Any time, you know it. But you never asked me to go with you.'

"'How long has it been since you asked to go with me?' she says.

"'Do you really want me to go anywheres, Emeline?' says I, eager. 'Do you? I s'posed you didn't. If you'd asked--'

"'Why should I always do the askin'? Must a wife always ask her husband?

Doesn't the husband ever do anything on his own responsibility? Seth, I married you because I thought you was a strong, self-reliant man, who would advise me and protect me and--'

"That cussed inventor bust into the talk right here. I cal'late he thought twas time.

"'Excuse me, sister,' he says; 'don't humiliate yourself afore him.

Remember you and me saw him tonight, saw him with our own eyes, settin'

on a dark piazza with another woman. Drinkin' with her and--'

"'Drinkin'!' I yells.

"'Yes, drinkin',' says he, solemn. 'I don't wonder you are ashamed of it.'

"'Ashamed! I ain't ashamed.'

"'You hear that, sister? NOW I hope you're convinced.'

"''Twa'n't nothin' but lemonade I was drinkin',' I hollers, pretty nigh crazy. 'She asked me to stop and have a gla.s.s 'cause 'twas so hot. And as for callin' on her, I wa'n't. I was just pa.s.sin' by, and she sings out what a dreadful night 'twas, and I said 'twas, too, and she says won't I have somethin' cold to drink. That's all there was to it.'

"Afore Emeline could answer, Bennie comes back at me again.

"'Perhaps you'll tell us this was the first time you have visited her,'

he purrs.

"Well, that was a sockdolager, 'cause twa'n't the first time. I don't know how many times 'twas. I never kept no account of 'em. Too glad to get away from her everlastin' tongue-clackin'. But when 'twas put right up to me this way, I--I declare I was all fussed up. I felt sick and I guess I looked so. Emeline was lookin' at me and seemin'ly waitin' for me to say somethin'; yet I couldn't say it. And Bennie D. laughed, quiet but wicked.

"That laugh fixed me. I swung round and lit into him.