Raising Demons by Shirley Jackson Read Free Book Online

pleasure, “Thank you very much; this is of the utmost great value,” and hastily, as though afraid I might after all insist upon taking back my cereal and my strained squash, he hastened to his briefcase and stored them away. Then, coming back to where I was sitting, he asked, pencil poised, “Shampoo?”
    I nearly did international relations an irreparable harm by giggling. After a minute, however, I said, sober-faced, “I wash my hair with it. So do my daughters.”
    â€œAh.” He wrote. Then he touched the sleeve of my blouse with the tip of the pencil. “How much?” he asked.
    I stirred uneasily, and glanced around to see if my husband was listening, but he was showing Mr. Yashamoto our Japanese netsuke, a lovely little ivory carving which had been my birthday present. “This,” I heard Mr. Yashamoto say incredulously, “is
Japanese
?”
    â€œEleven-ninety-eight,” I said very softly to Mr. Babar, “but if you don’t mind—”
    â€œEleven
dollar
?”
    â€œIt’s nylon,” I said, “but please don’t tell—”
    He beamed. “Ah,” he said. “
Nylon.
” And he made another note.
    Mrs. Fernandez was singing softly to Barry, who lay back against her arm making small quiet noises, and Jannie and Mr. Lopez came back into the room and I heard Mr. Lopez saying, “People from different countries seem different, my Jonni, but cats—never. Cats are always much alike.”
    â€œExcept,” said Jannie intelligently, “that some of them are black and some of them are white and some of them are gray and some of them are striped.”
    â€œTrue, true,” said Mr. Lopez, and Mr. Babar, apologetically, touched me on the arm to attract my attention. “Television?” he asked anxiously.
    Suddenly, in the middle of a sentence, Mr. Yashamoto glanced at his watch and rose. “One hour,” he announced, and our guests stood, all together. Mr. Yashamoto came across the room and bowed quickly to me. “Thank you very much for visit to your home,” he said. “You have been most instructive.”
    I leaned down to take Barry from Mrs. Fernandez and she hugged him and handed him to me. Between the two of us we managed to pry her earring out of his hand. “An opportunity not to miss,” Mr. Babar said to me, and then, unexpectedly, “I will not reveal cost of clothing.” I could have sworn he winked at me.
    Mr. Lopez shook hands with Jannie, and Mr. Fernandez removed Sally from
his
lap. “How about a game tomorrow?” Laurie said to Mr. Masamitsu, and Mr. Masamitsu bowed. “Swell,” he said precisely, “idea.”
    â€œI do hope you’ll come again,” I said generally. “We have enjoyed your visit so much.” I turned to Mrs. Fernandez and said, “It has been a real pleasure.” “Bébé,” she said, touching Barry’s head. “Barri.”
    â€œCome any time,” my husband said roundly to Mr. Yashamoto, “show you some more of those Japanese coins.”
    They were all moving gradually toward the front door, and then, when they reached it, passed through it in single file, as they had entered, and lined up again on the front lawn.
    â€œThank you once more very much,” Mr. Yashamoto said, and my husband and I both said, “Do come again,” and Laurie called out, “Be seeing you, fellas,” and Jannie and Sally called, “ ’Bye, ’bye, ’bye.”
    They wandered off down the country road, our guests, conversing among themselves, and pausing once for a minute while Mr. Babar turned and took a long look at the outside of our house. Then he wrote quickly in his notebook, and they went slowly on.
    Â â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢Â 
    August came upon us soon thereafter, and Laurie began saying “school” in a dreary voice, and giving us monologues which usually began,