The Kill-Off Read Online Free Page B

started reloading the Mercedes.
    “Ralph,” he said. “Wait a minute.”
    “Yes, sir?” I turned back around.
    “I can give you a job with my company. In one of our factories. Something that you could do, and that would pay quite well.”
    “Oh?” I said. “You mean in New York City, Mr. Brockton?”
    “Or New Jersey. Newark. I think you’d like it, Ralph. I think it would be the best thing that ever happened to you.”
    “Yes, sir,” I said. “I guess you’re probably right, Mr. Brockton, and I sure do appreciate the offer. But I guess not.”
    “You guess not?” he said. “Why not?”
    “Well, I—I just guess I hadn’t better,” I said. “You see, I never lived anywhere but here. I’ve never been any further away than Atlantic Center, and that was just for a couple of hours. And just being away that far, that little time, I was so rattled and mixed up it was two-three days before I could calm down.”
    “Oh, well,” he shrugged. “You’d get over that.”
    “I guess not,” I said. “I mean, I can’t, Mr. Brockton. It’s kind of like I was rooted here, like I was one of them—those—shrubs. You try to put me down somewhere else, and—”
    “Oh, I’m not trying to! Far be it from me to persuade a man against his will.”
    He nodded, kind of huffy-like, and headed for the house. I drove away. I knew he was probably right. I kind of wished I could leave Manduwoc—just kind of, you know. And before that day was much older I was really wishing it, with hardly any kind-of at all. But there just wasn’t any way that I could.
    Luane would never leave here. Even if she would, what good would it do? Any place we went, people would laugh and talk about us like they’d always done here. There’d be the same stories. Well, not exactly the same, I guess, because outsiders wouldn’t know about Pa. So they wouldn’t be apt to say that Pa and Luane, well—that I was really her son instead of her husband. Or, her son as well as her husband. But however it was, it would be bad. And Luane would start striking back twice as hard, like she’d struck back here. Probably she’d do it anyhow, even if people did have the good manners and kindness to keep their mouths shut. Because she’d been the way she was now for so long, she’d lost the knack for being any other way.
    I felt awful sorry for Luane. She’d sure given up a lot on my account. She was a lady, and she came from a proud old family. She’d been a good churchgoer and a charity-worker, and everything like that. And then just because she wanted someone to love before she got too old for it, why there was all that dirtiness. Stuff that took the starch right out of you, and filled you up with something else. No, it didn’t bother me too much; I guess I just didn’t have enough sense to be bothered, and, of course, I never amounted to anything to begin with. But it did something pretty terrible to Luane. She didn’t show it for a long time, except maybe a little around me. She had too much pride. But the hurt was there inside, festering and spreading, and finally breaking out. And then really getting bad. Getting a little worse the older she got.
    I sure wished Luane could go away with me. I figured I could make out pretty fine with Luane. With someone like that, you know, someone who knew her way around and could tell you what to do—someone that really loved you and you could talk to, and—and…
    Well, I guess I just hadn’t wanted to face the facts there at Mr. J. B. Brockton’s place. I mean, it was such an awful setback, I didn’t feel like I could bear any more; I just couldn’t admit that it would be the same way wherever else I went. Because what was I going to do if it was? How was I going to live? What would I do if I couldn’t make out here, and I couldn’t go any place else?
    You can see how I’d be kind of stunned. So scared that I couldn’t look at the truth even with my nose rubbed in it.
    So, anyway, I went on to