The Kill-Off Read Online Free Page A

Luane. We had a real nice talk while she ate. When she was through, I gave her a sponge bath, tickling her and teasing her until she was almost crying she laughed so hard. As a matter of fact, she did cry a little but not sad like she sometimes does. It was more kind of wondering, you know—like when you know something’s true but you can’t quite believe it.
    “You like me, don’t you?” she said. “You really do like me, don’t you?”
    “Well, sure,” I said. “Of course. I don’t need to tell you that.”
    “You’ve never regretted anything? Wished things had been different?”
    “Regret what?” I said. “What would I want different?”
    “Well—” She gestured. “To travel. See the world. Do something besides just work and eat and sleep.”
    “Why, I do a lot besides that,” I said. “Anyway, what would I want to travel for when I’ve got everything I want right here?”
    “Have you, darling?” She patted my cheek. “Do you have everything you want?”
    I nodded. Maybe I didn’t have everything I wanted right there in the house, her being pretty well along in years. But working like I do, I didn’t have to hunt very hard to get it. Most of the time it was the other way around.
    Well, anyway. I got her fixed up for the day with everything she might need, and then I left. Feeling good, like I said. Feeling like all my troubles were over. I drove up to Mr. J. B. Brockton’s place, and started to work on the lawn. And in just about five minutes—just about the time it took him to get out of the house—all the good feeling was gone, and I knew I hadn’t seen any trouble compared with what I was liable to.
    “I’m sorry, Ralph,” he said, sort of kicking at the grass with his toe. “I tried any number of times to reach you yesterday, but your phone was always tied up.”
    I shook my head. I just couldn’t think of anything to say for a minute. He wasn’t like some of the summer people I worked for—people who just order you around like you didn’t have any feelings, and maybe make jokes about you—about the “natives”—in front of their company. He was more like a friend, you know. I liked him, and he went out of his way to show that he liked me. Why, just last season he’d given me a couple suits. Two hundred and fifty dollar suits, he said they were. And, of course, he was probably exaggerating a little. Because how could just a suit of clothes cost two hundred and fifty? But even if they only cost fifty or seventy-five, it was a mighty handsome gift. Not something you’d give to people unless you thought an awful lot of them.
    “Mr. Brockton,” I said. And that was as far as I could go for a minute. “Mr. Brockton, what’s the matter?”
    “Well, I’ll tell you, Ralph,” he said, not looking at me, still kicking at the grass. “Doctor Ashton’s son got in touch with me by mail a week or so ago. I’ve decided to give the work to him.”
    Well. You could have pushed me over with a dew drop. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
    “Bobbie Ashton?” I said. “Why—what would Bobbie be doing doing yard work? Why, he must have been joking you, Mr. Brockton! Doc Ashton, why, he always hires his own yard work done, so why would Bobbie—”
    “I’ve already engaged him,” Mr. Brockton said. “It’s all settled. I’m sorry, Ralph.” He hesitated a second; then he said, “I think Doctor Ashton is a good man. I think Bob is a fine boy.”
    “Well, so do I,” I said. “You never heard me say anything else, Mr. Brockton.”
    “I like them,” he said. “And I come here to rest, to enjoy myself. And I do not like—in fact, I refuse, Ralph—to be drawn into community quarrels.”
    I knew what the trouble was then. I knew there was nothing I could do about it. All I could do now was to get to some other place as fast as I could. So…so I made myself smile. I said I could see how he might feel, and that he shouldn’t feel bad about it on my account. Then I