Mr. Bridge_ A Novel - Evan S. Connell [79]
“Young man, you listen to me,” said Mr. Bridge. “You have a job and you will do your best to keep it. We are not going to have two quitters in this house.”
“If Ruth can quit her job, why can’t I?”
“We will not go into that. You will do as I say.”
“I could get a better job that would pay better.”
“I doubt that.”
“You do?” Douglas said defiantly. “Why?”
“Jobs are not easy to find these days. You may not have an important job, but there are quite a few grown men in this country who would be delighted to have it.”
“They sure can have it.”
“Once or twice in the past,” Mr. Bridge said, “I have heard you use that tone. I have warned you about it.”
“I’m sorry,” Douglas said. “But is that all business is? I mean, one lemon? Is a person supposed to work his head off all day and make about two cents?”
“The man exaggerated. He was attempting to point out to you that you should learn to work conscientiously.”
“Ye cripes!”
“And that is an expression I have heard more often than I care to.”
“Okay, okay. It’s just that this whole thing is so stupid, if you ask me. All that work for one lemon.”
“You may or may not like your job, but I want you to keep it until school opens.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Because if you do not, son, I will cut your allowance in half.”
“You expect me to sort lemons the rest of my life?”
Mr. Bridge did not bother to reply.
“Bleh!” Douglas said.
“I mean it.”
“Ye cripes,” Douglas muttered. “I know you mean it.”
83 Stockings
Ruth was ready to go out for the evening. Her mother commented on how nicely she was dressed. Mr. Bridge agreed, but he noticed that she was not wearing stockings. He told her to go upstairs and put them on. She said it was too hot to wear stockings.
He said, “Don’t tell me how hot it is! I have seldom been as uncomfortable in my entire life as I was downtown today. Court was like an oven. However, I presented myself as I invariably do despite the heat because it is important to appear respectable. And you will not leave this house looking like a tramp from the North End. You may stay at home and dress as you please, or you may go out when you are respectably dressed. Take your choice. I have nothing further to say.”
She gave him a baleful stare but went back up to her room. She was gone a long time. When she came down she was wearing stockings, but her attitude seemed different. He thought he knew why: she was planning to take them off as soon as she got away.
“And keep them on,” he said, pointing his finger at her so she would know he was not joking, and from the furious way she set her hands on her hips he knew that his guess had been correct.
84 4 A.M.
His eyes opened and focused quickly, because something was wrong. The house was silent. At his side his wife breathed deeply and calmly. He could not hear anything except the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall and the wind soughing through the trees, but he thought somebody was downstairs. He got up, put on his robe and slippers, took a box of bullets out of the dresser, and emptied the bullets into his pocket. He slid his hand under the mattress and pulled out the gun. He loaded it and cocked it and started walking slowly along the hall, pausing every few steps to listen. He was standing at the