The Wapshot Chronicle - John Cheever [39]
But out of the window he could see the blue sky above the trees of the square and he was easily charmed with the appearance of the world. How could anything go wrong in such a paradise? “Wake up, Perley, wake up and we’ll play some backgammon,” he shouted. Perley woke up and they played backgammon for matchsticks until noon. They had some lunch in the bakery and played backgammon some more. In the middle of the afternoon it suddenly occurred to Leander that all he needed was money. Poor Leander! We cannot endow him with wisdom and powers of invention that he does not have and give him a prime-ministerial breadth of mind. This is what he did.
He crossed the square to the Cartwright Block and climbed the stairs. He said good afternoon to Mrs. Marston in the telephone-company office—a pleasant white-haired widow surrounded by many potted plants that seemed to bloom and flourish in the fertile climate of her disposition. Leander spoke to her about the rain and then went down the hall to the doctor’s office, where a WALK IN sign hung from the doorknob like a bib. In the waiting room there was a little girl with a bandaged hand, leaning her head against her mother’s breast, and old Billy Tompkins with an empty pill bottle. The furniture seemed to have been brought in from some porch, and the wicker chair in which Leander sat squeaked as loudly as if he had sat down on a nest of mice. The pack, hedges and jumpers of a fox hunt appeared on the wallpaper and in these repeated images Leander saw a reflection on the vitality of the village—a proneness to dwell on strange and different ways of life. The door to the inner office opened and a dark-skinned young woman who was pregnant came out. Then the child with the bandaged hand was led in by her mother. She was not in the office long. Then Billy Tompkins went in with his empty pill bottle. He came out with a prescription and Leander went in.
“What can I do for you, Captain Wapshot?” the doctor asked.
“I was playing backgammon with Perley Sturgis at the fire-house,” Leander said, “and I had an idea. I wondered if you could give me a job.”
“Oh, I’m afraid not,” the doctor said pleasantly enough. “I don’t even have a nurse.”
“That wasn’t the kind of work I had in mind,” Leander said. “Can anyone hear us?”
“I don’t believe so,” the doctor said.
“Take me for an experiment,” Leander said. “Please take me. I’ve decided that’s what I want to do. I’ll sign anything. I won’t tell anyone. Operate on me. Do anything you want. Just give me a little money.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Captain Wapshot.”
“Take me,” Leander said. “I’m a very interesting specimen. Pure Yankee stock. Think of the blood in my veins. State senators. Scholars. Sea captains. Heroes. Schoolmasters. You can make medical history. You can make a name for yourself. You’ll be famous. I’ll give you the family history. I’ll give you a regular pedigree. I don’t care what you do with me. Just give me a little money.”
“Please get out of here, Captain Wapshot.”
“It would help humanity some, wouldn’t it?” Leander asked. “It would help humanity. Nobody has to know. I won’t tell anybody. I promise I won’t tell anybody. I’ll promise on the Bible. You can have a laboratory nobody knows about. I won’t tell anyone. I’ll go there whenever you say. I’ll go there nights if you want me. I’ll tell Mrs. Wapshot I’m traveling.”
“Please get out of here, Captain Wapshot.”
Leander picked up his hat and left. In the square a woman, from the other side of the river, was calling in Italian to her son. “Speak English,” Leander told her. “Speak English. This is the United States.” He drove back to the farm in the old Buick.
He was tired, and happy to see the lights of the farm. He was hungry and thirsty and his appetite seemed to embrace the landscape and the house. Lulu had burned something.