Whipple's Castle Read Online Free Page A
Author: Thomas Williams
Christâs sake tell me all about it.â
âI was just thinking how big I was at high-school graduation. If it hadnât been for the robe, they wouldnât have let me go to it at all.â
âYou can tell Wood he graduated from high school twice,â he said. She looked at him quickly, hoping to see some of his old humor in his face, but he grimaced as though he were embarrassed to be caught.
âWhere in hellâs Kate?â he said.
âI sent Horace up to tell her.â
âHorace!â
âYou ought to be nicer to him.â As she spoke she watched Harvey carefully, expecting him to try to pump himself up into a rage. She didnât care if he did, and sometimes she caught herself deliberately goading him. Like poking a snake. But this time, in spite of his guilt, he merely looked sad and thoughtful, and said nothing. It made her sad to see him without even enough energy to yell; she knew what it meant to him to be a crippleâor part of it, anywayâbecause he used to be a man nobody could beat. He had to win whatever game he played, and win it fair, even giving away points. Heâd been captain of the town baseball team, and co-captain of the Old Timers basketball team. When he got the ball he always did the right thing with it, smooth and quick. Heâd taught her to play tennis and golf. Now he could hardly walk ten yards on crutches, and his body heâd been so proud of was getting whiter and softer. She had admired him for wanting to win, even if it did sometimes get awfully harsh before the end of the game, because she liked to win too. But he couldnât seem to win against his ruined leg.
Heâd made good money, although he always said he didnât. Whatever money he made always sounded like a fortune to her, though, because sheâd been brought up where there wasnât much cash money around at all, where a quarter seemed as big as a saucer. Right after they were married he sold siding, and then he bought into the insurance agency. Even after that he made a lot of money refereeing basketball and hockey games all over the state and sometimes out of it. Now he went down to his office no more than once a week, and took only his rare commissions and interest as salary. What he couldnât do best he hardly tried at all to do. He had to sit all day at home, and yell up a storm.
Kate appeared in the kitchen doorway, a bundle of silverware wrapped in a dishtowel swinging from her hands. She hasnât been through what Iâve been through, Henrietta thought. Kate was impervious to what could hurt Horace, to what could turn David silent and Wood cold with disdain. She was spoiled by her advantages. Yet with this thought came tenderness. When, and how, did you admit that your daughter was out of the ordinary? Like those mothers who could raise a deaf child and never quite know it was deaf, she had raised this almost too beautiful child without being able, most of the time, at least, to recognize its difference. Once she had heard a woman say that Kate Whipple was too pretty. There was an awe of Kate she was afraid might hurt her in some way, and it came from boys, from teachers, from mothers, from everybody. It might hurt her character. In a way it seemed monstrous that her fatherâs rages made no impression upon Kate, that Kate felt her power too easily. She reminded Henrietta of the little bird called a water ouzel, that could hippity hop right under water in a brook and peck at its food with the white water pouring all over it, then hop out again dry as it hopped in. There were animals like that sheâd read aboutâfish that lived among the poisonous stings of anemones and never got hurt, mosquitoes that were born and lived right in the throats of pitcher plants, and never got eaten.
âHi, Hank. Hi, Whip,â Kate said, letting the dishtowel unroll upon the table with a crash. She didnât care if this might make her father
âI was just thinking how big I was at high-school graduation. If it hadnât been for the robe, they wouldnât have let me go to it at all.â
âYou can tell Wood he graduated from high school twice,â he said. She looked at him quickly, hoping to see some of his old humor in his face, but he grimaced as though he were embarrassed to be caught.
âWhere in hellâs Kate?â he said.
âI sent Horace up to tell her.â
âHorace!â
âYou ought to be nicer to him.â As she spoke she watched Harvey carefully, expecting him to try to pump himself up into a rage. She didnât care if he did, and sometimes she caught herself deliberately goading him. Like poking a snake. But this time, in spite of his guilt, he merely looked sad and thoughtful, and said nothing. It made her sad to see him without even enough energy to yell; she knew what it meant to him to be a crippleâor part of it, anywayâbecause he used to be a man nobody could beat. He had to win whatever game he played, and win it fair, even giving away points. Heâd been captain of the town baseball team, and co-captain of the Old Timers basketball team. When he got the ball he always did the right thing with it, smooth and quick. Heâd taught her to play tennis and golf. Now he could hardly walk ten yards on crutches, and his body heâd been so proud of was getting whiter and softer. She had admired him for wanting to win, even if it did sometimes get awfully harsh before the end of the game, because she liked to win too. But he couldnât seem to win against his ruined leg.
Heâd made good money, although he always said he didnât. Whatever money he made always sounded like a fortune to her, though, because sheâd been brought up where there wasnât much cash money around at all, where a quarter seemed as big as a saucer. Right after they were married he sold siding, and then he bought into the insurance agency. Even after that he made a lot of money refereeing basketball and hockey games all over the state and sometimes out of it. Now he went down to his office no more than once a week, and took only his rare commissions and interest as salary. What he couldnât do best he hardly tried at all to do. He had to sit all day at home, and yell up a storm.
Kate appeared in the kitchen doorway, a bundle of silverware wrapped in a dishtowel swinging from her hands. She hasnât been through what Iâve been through, Henrietta thought. Kate was impervious to what could hurt Horace, to what could turn David silent and Wood cold with disdain. She was spoiled by her advantages. Yet with this thought came tenderness. When, and how, did you admit that your daughter was out of the ordinary? Like those mothers who could raise a deaf child and never quite know it was deaf, she had raised this almost too beautiful child without being able, most of the time, at least, to recognize its difference. Once she had heard a woman say that Kate Whipple was too pretty. There was an awe of Kate she was afraid might hurt her in some way, and it came from boys, from teachers, from mothers, from everybody. It might hurt her character. In a way it seemed monstrous that her fatherâs rages made no impression upon Kate, that Kate felt her power too easily. She reminded Henrietta of the little bird called a water ouzel, that could hippity hop right under water in a brook and peck at its food with the white water pouring all over it, then hop out again dry as it hopped in. There were animals like that sheâd read aboutâfish that lived among the poisonous stings of anemones and never got hurt, mosquitoes that were born and lived right in the throats of pitcher plants, and never got eaten.
âHi, Hank. Hi, Whip,â Kate said, letting the dishtowel unroll upon the table with a crash. She didnât care if this might make her father
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