Typical American Read Online Free Page B

advisor tells him, just wait — and the next day returns with a dead horse he's bought. A dead horse? says the emperor. For five hundred pieces of gold? Replies the advisor, Ah, but when people hear what you've paid for a dead horse, they'll know what you'll pay for a live one. And sure enough, the emperor soon has so many to choose from that he easily finds the one he needs.
    If only Ralph had an advisor like that! But he had to be his own advisor; and though he tried to think, tried to think, he could not find any banfa. Endlessly, the weeks stretched out,

    like mile upon mile of ocean. What to do, what to do. What about just lying low, he thought finally, feebly. Having finished with his coursework that spring, he was only scheduled for thesis hours in the fall anyway. If he stayed out of the lobby, out of the halls, weren't chances good that people would forget about him? Except for the professor working with him on his master's thesis. But Pinkus, luckily, liked him.
    Or at least used to.
    "You mean you want me to lie?" Pinkus said now, stroking his scraggly gray beard. "When they ask, you want me to say I don't know where you are?" This was in Pinkus's narrow, paper-stuffed office.
    "Probably that question no one ask it," said Ralph.
    "But in case they do, you want me to lie."
    It was the sort of afternoon when every car in the city seemed to be having trouble with its horn. The window was open only a crack, but still the din resounded. Eeeeep. Eeeeeep.
    "Not that I don't wish you good luck," Pinkus said. "Good luck. But excuse me, I don't like to lie. Let me tell you, even if you don't lie, there are people who'll call you a sneak. On the other hand, if you lie, and they call you a sneak, it's worse." He paused. "I'm just telling you what I know."
    Ralph bit his lip. "If I send home, Communists catch me," he said.
    That at least made Pinkus stroke his beard again. His features bunched low on his face, as though shrinking with awe from his shiny domed forehead. Ralph explained how he could be put in prison, maybe even killed.
    "Maybe they'll kill you, or definitely they will?"
    Ralph hesitated. "Maybe."
    Pinkus sighed. "Please excuse me for pointing this out," he said. "If you don't go to school, you won't get caught."
    Ralph stood up.
    "I'm sorry." Pinkus sounded tired. "But one thing I need to explain to you. Some men have to watch out for their reputations. You understand me?"

    *9
    "No," said Ralph.
    "Even in their own countries, some men are not at home."
    "Not home?"
    "You read the newspaper?"
    "Chinese paper. Once a while."
    "Look. Maybe I'm paranoid. But the way things are going, pretty soon everyone's going to be a spy or a Commie or both. Do you know what I'm talking about?"
    Ralph shook his head.
    "You should read the newspaper. We all have to be a little careful." Pinkus explained how when times got ugly, things got uglier for some people than for other people.
    "People don't like you?"
    "It's a matter of religion."
    "People don't like you because of your religious?"
    "Where've you been, Antarctica?" said Pinkus. "The Germans, for example. The Germans don't like us. 'Because of our religious.'"
    "Ah," said Ralph. "I get. You Jewish guy."
    Pinkus worked his paper clip into a pretzel. "You should read the newspaper," he said again. "That's good advice, take it, you're going to need it, I can see." He tossed the paper clip onto his desk blotter; now he stroked his beard some more. "All right, all right," he went on, as if to himself. "If they ask, they ask. But for you, such an innocent..." He stood up from his chair, paced around, shut the window.
    The month of September, Ralph held his breath. October. November. Then the snow came, burying everything. Even the pile of debris outside Ralph's rooming house window turned picturesque, its jagged rustiness tempered into drifts, swoops, and in one corner, a series of pretty balls, like a snowman laid down for a nap. Ralph drew back his window curtain, moved his