The Collected Stories of William Humphrey by William Humphrey Read Free Book Online Page A

how, through the evening, she tried to accustom herself to the notion that another day had been got past, able to see that something, something he couldn’t just put his finger on, but something peculiar had settled down in his house, and what was even more peculiar, even harder to find words to suit, something that seemed to mean to stay. He felt left out of everything. It was as if he had gone away for a while and come back before he was expected. It was such a queer feeling and it wasn’t helped any by looking up sometimes and seeing Laura and Harold standing together like a photograph he hadn’t got into.
    The way they looked at him! Like they had really had something different in mind, but he had come and they had used him and now they couldn’t send him back. Did they? Maybe he imagined it; he wasn’t feeling good, anyway. Maybe his mind was all tired and bent over, too. But what could you think when your own boy looked at you like a horse somebody was trying to sell too cheap, and when he went to bed was thirstier than ever before and kept having to go to the pot to see if you had managed to keep on your feet once you had him out of sight?
    III
    Laura’s mama came over as soon as she sent word that the washing machine had come. It was Saturday and Dan had gone into town to buy groceries, but Harold was too interested in the machine to go with him. Laura’s mama drove her buggy over early. She loved machinery and was proud of her daughter for owning the shiny, mysterious washing machine and being able to run it. She loved the noise and loved having to yell above it to make herself heard.
    â€œYou might get that thing to churn butter,” she urged in a shout.
    Harold was disgusted but Laura thought it might work and promised herself to try it. Now the grandmother wanted to shut it off and give it a rest and rest herself. She rubbed a finger over it as tenderly as over a sleeping baby.
    â€œA thing like that must cost a heap of money,” she said.
    Laura swelled with pride. “I should think it does.”
    Her mama stood with her question on her face but the amount was almost too much for Laura to be proud of. She said, “We bought it on the installment plan, of course.”
    â€œWell,” said her mama, as though she had been taken for some kind of a fool, as though she didn’t know a fine piece of machinery when she saw it, “I never thought you could buy such a thing outright,” and in fact she couldn’t really see how they had made the down payment. “How much was it?” she asked hungrily and cocked her ear around to receive some astounding figure.
    She looked ready not to resent the price but to admire it. Laura couldn’t think of another woman anywhere around whose husband had spent so much money on her at one time, so she told. Her mother flinched as if somebody had suddenly blown in her ear. She had prepared herself for the limit; now her face turned sour and she looked at the washing machine with distaste. She thought she had raised a more sensible daughter and one not nearly so trifling. She had washed work clothes and dirty diapers on her seventy-nine-cent washboard for forty-odd years and it was good enough for anybody. She began to take notice that Laura’s dress had a hole under the arm and that Harold had on pants too small for him and needed a haircut. Well, she never thought she would see the day when Laura would let her family go to seed and put her man in debt for years because she was too lazy to wash his clothes, and she said as much.
    Laura said, “Well, I don’t know as it will keep him in debt all that long.”
    â€œHowever long it is, looks like you’ll sure be ragged but clean.”
    â€œWell,” said Laura, standing sharp, hands on her hips, “if I am it’ll be no change from what I always was at home. Except maybe cleaner,” and she turned the machine on with a clatter and