the money? Can we have some-"
Above the turmoil I heard Mom's voice, starched with amusement. "I believe Mr. Dillon's here now. If you'll just wait a moment…"
I went in. It wasn't as bad as I expected. In one way, that is.
The old girl is one of those people who are nuts about writers-any kind-and she'd actually read some of my stuff. So, instead of being a deadbeat, I was an eccentric. I was working in aircraft to get material for a book; she said so herself. As for the money-well, of course, I will have to have it, Mr. Dillon, but next Friday will be perfectly all right. I know how it is with you writers. You're always forgetting and mislaying, and-ha, ha, ha-oh, yes, indeedy! I know how you are! Ha, ha, ha.
Ha, ha, ha…
I sat there smirking, nervous as a worm in a fish pond, hoping to God that Shannon wouldn't take a notion to beat up on her, or that Mack wouldn't do something in her hat, or that Jo wouldn't say something scathing.
Finally, about six, I laughed her out the door.
It was lucky I got her out when I did. At five after six Frankie and Clarence arrived. Clarence is Portuguese, an ex-fisherman now employed as a carpenter in the shipyard where Frankie works. They had an unknown quantity of beer inside them, and they were carrying a sixty pound tuna.
7
I had to work Saturday. When I was hired, I was told that I would work five eight-hour days a week. But Moon says we will probably be working every Saturday, and perhaps some Sundays from now on. The Government wants planes and wants them now.
That is all right with me. I'd as soon-rather-stay at the plant than go home; and anything over forty hours a week pays time-and-a- half. And I must have more money.
I've said that I wasn't happy when I had money any more than I am now. That's only relatively true. As I remember, Pop didn't get along much better with us when he had money than when he was broke, although God knows that wasn't our fault. But we were a little more chary about jumping down his throat, and the same thing applies in my case. Things weren't as bad when I had money. Roberta had some way of entertaining herself besides keeping me in an uproar. I could give Mom a lift instead of saying I don't know what to do either. When things got too bad, I could hide out in a hotel for a day or two. Or take a trip. Or-well, just get up and walk around the block and come back when I got ready.
No, I can't even do that now. It sounds ridiculous, but I can't. I've tried it, and there's always trouble. Of course, if I will explain the exact route I am going to take, and why I want to go out, and when I will be back, and allay any suspicions arising from the fact that I want to be alone, then I can go. If I want to.
Roberta and I have been over and over this matter, and it is always the same:
"But, Jimmie. What if I just got up and walked out? What would you think?"
"Do you really want to do things like that, too, Roberta?"
"I feel like it sometimes. What would you think if I got up and walked out, and didn't say where I was going or when I was coming back? You'd think it was mighty funny, wouldn't you?"
"I suppose I would."
"Don't you see that when I want to know where you are it's just because I love you so much? You wouldn't like it if I didn't care, would you?"
''No.''
"I get awfully tired sitting around the house all day, too, Jimmie. I don't think I'm asking too much when I want to go walking with you."
"Oh, of course you're not, honey-"
"And the children just worship you-you know that-and they get to be with you so little. Don't you like to be around them any more?"
"Oh, Roberta!"
"Well?"
Well?
I don't know.
I think money would help.
Frankie gave us an extra week in advance on her board, so, what with the tuna, we had enough to scrape by on. We had an awfully good dinner Saturday night-baked tuna, and whipped potatoes, and avocado salad-the first good meal we've had since I don't know when. I'd had a good bath and put on my suit of
Above the turmoil I heard Mom's voice, starched with amusement. "I believe Mr. Dillon's here now. If you'll just wait a moment…"
I went in. It wasn't as bad as I expected. In one way, that is.
The old girl is one of those people who are nuts about writers-any kind-and she'd actually read some of my stuff. So, instead of being a deadbeat, I was an eccentric. I was working in aircraft to get material for a book; she said so herself. As for the money-well, of course, I will have to have it, Mr. Dillon, but next Friday will be perfectly all right. I know how it is with you writers. You're always forgetting and mislaying, and-ha, ha, ha-oh, yes, indeedy! I know how you are! Ha, ha, ha.
Ha, ha, ha…
I sat there smirking, nervous as a worm in a fish pond, hoping to God that Shannon wouldn't take a notion to beat up on her, or that Mack wouldn't do something in her hat, or that Jo wouldn't say something scathing.
Finally, about six, I laughed her out the door.
It was lucky I got her out when I did. At five after six Frankie and Clarence arrived. Clarence is Portuguese, an ex-fisherman now employed as a carpenter in the shipyard where Frankie works. They had an unknown quantity of beer inside them, and they were carrying a sixty pound tuna.
7
I had to work Saturday. When I was hired, I was told that I would work five eight-hour days a week. But Moon says we will probably be working every Saturday, and perhaps some Sundays from now on. The Government wants planes and wants them now.
That is all right with me. I'd as soon-rather-stay at the plant than go home; and anything over forty hours a week pays time-and-a- half. And I must have more money.
I've said that I wasn't happy when I had money any more than I am now. That's only relatively true. As I remember, Pop didn't get along much better with us when he had money than when he was broke, although God knows that wasn't our fault. But we were a little more chary about jumping down his throat, and the same thing applies in my case. Things weren't as bad when I had money. Roberta had some way of entertaining herself besides keeping me in an uproar. I could give Mom a lift instead of saying I don't know what to do either. When things got too bad, I could hide out in a hotel for a day or two. Or take a trip. Or-well, just get up and walk around the block and come back when I got ready.
No, I can't even do that now. It sounds ridiculous, but I can't. I've tried it, and there's always trouble. Of course, if I will explain the exact route I am going to take, and why I want to go out, and when I will be back, and allay any suspicions arising from the fact that I want to be alone, then I can go. If I want to.
Roberta and I have been over and over this matter, and it is always the same:
"But, Jimmie. What if I just got up and walked out? What would you think?"
"Do you really want to do things like that, too, Roberta?"
"I feel like it sometimes. What would you think if I got up and walked out, and didn't say where I was going or when I was coming back? You'd think it was mighty funny, wouldn't you?"
"I suppose I would."
"Don't you see that when I want to know where you are it's just because I love you so much? You wouldn't like it if I didn't care, would you?"
''No.''
"I get awfully tired sitting around the house all day, too, Jimmie. I don't think I'm asking too much when I want to go walking with you."
"Oh, of course you're not, honey-"
"And the children just worship you-you know that-and they get to be with you so little. Don't you like to be around them any more?"
"Oh, Roberta!"
"Well?"
Well?
I don't know.
I think money would help.
Frankie gave us an extra week in advance on her board, so, what with the tuna, we had enough to scrape by on. We had an awfully good dinner Saturday night-baked tuna, and whipped potatoes, and avocado salad-the first good meal we've had since I don't know when. I'd had a good bath and put on my suit of
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