Mr. Bridge_ A Novel - Evan S. Connell [31]
“I did, though.”
“Really? The other day Grace Barron said she just knew you were wearing a suit and tie the day you were born.”
“Oh, she did, did she?” he asked, and thought about the comment for a few moments. “Well, I’m afraid I must be what I am, for better or worse. If I were to try to answer all the attacks made on me, this shop might as well be closed for any other sort of business.”
36 Yuh, Yuh, Yuh
Not long after the opening of school a SOLD sign was posted in the vacant lot. Except for this the lot appeared to be as public as ever. Weeks went by and whoever had bought the lot did not come around to inspect it, nor were there any complaints about the cave, so that after a while the sign seemed to belong and its significance was nearly forgotten. Dogs, cats, birds, mice, rabbits, butterflies, and insects shared it with the neighborhood children, and the weeds grew higher.
But one morning while Douglas was at school a tractor drove into the lot and promptly ripped off the roof of the cave. When he returned to the house at dinnertime he was very depressed. Bitterly he asked: “Why didn’t they let anybody know? At least we could have got our stuff out. The cigar box is gone. And Tipton’s harmonica and a lot other stuff.”
“I would like to have seen somebody’s face,” Mr. Bridge remarked, “when that cigar box was opened and a snake slithered out.”
“Good Heavens,” Mrs. Bridge said. “Were you keeping a snake?”
“We had some money and marbles and coupons and a Scout knife and a lot of other junk in there besides,” he said. “That dirty old guy on the tractor stole everything.”
“How do you know?” Mr. Bridge asked while testing the blade of the carving knife.
“It’s gone, isn’t it? Who else could have swiped it?”
“I’m afraid that argument won’t stand up in court.”
“You don’t care because you didn’t lose any stuff.”
“You are making a bit too much of this. How much money was in the box?”
“Over a dollar. And the Scout knife was worth plenty. And we had all those coupons and marbles. And there was a lucky chestnut and some more stuff, too.”
“Did you hunt for the box? That fellow driving the tractor may not have stolen it. He may not have known it was there.”
“It’s gone,” Douglas said with a grim face.
“Well, I do think he’s right,” Mrs. Bridge said. “They should have told the boys they were planning to start excavating.”
“Pass your mother’s plate,” Mr. Bridge said to Ruth, and then he continued: “Yes, it seems to me they should have, or could have. I don’t believe it would have been much trouble to make a few inquiries and find out where the boys lived.”
“Why don’t you sue them?” Carolyn asked her brother.
“You think it’s one big fat joke,” he said. “It’s not funny.”
“Listen to me, young man,” Mr. Bridge said. He paused for emphasis, the carving knife and the heavy silver fork poised above the roast. “In this life we lose a great many things. Many things that we love and cherish and hope to keep forever are taken from us without our permission. There are times when litigation is in order, but unfortunately no court of law has yet existed which is capable of restoring to us those properties which we consider genuinely valuable. What you and your companions lost today—or what may have been stolen from you—is altogether inconsequential.”
“Yuh, yuh, yuh,” Douglas muttered.
“Furthermore, I think it is high time you made a pronounced effort to speak the English language.”
“Okay, okay,” said Douglas.
37 The Pistol
“He’s found your gun,” said Mrs. Bridge one evening not long before Halloween.
Mr. Bridge had just gotten home. He was standing in front of the hall closet taking off his gloves.
“Why on earth he was poking around beneath the mattress I don’t know,” she continued, “but I walked into the bedroom this afternoon and there he was.”
“What did he say when you caught him?”
“Not a word.”
Mr. Bridge remained standing where he was when she had first spoken. He had meant to show the gun to Douglas some day and explain why it was kept under the mattress, but he had planned