East of Eden by John Steinbeck
Will asked, "Where do you come in?"
"I was thinking of buying the ice plant here in Salinas and trying to ship some things."
"That would cost a lot of money."
"I have quite a lot of money," said Adam.
Will Hamilton putted his lip angrily. "I don't know why I got into this," he said. "I know better."
"How do you mean?"
"Look here," said Will. "When a man comes to me for advice about an idea, I know he doesn't want advice. He wants me to agree with him. And if I want to keep his friendship I tell him his idea is fine and go ahead. But I like you and you're a friend of my family, so I'm going to stick my neck out."
Lee put down his darning, moved his sewing basket to the floor, and changed his glasses.
Adam remonstrated, "What are you getting upset about?"
"I come from a whole goddam family of inventors," said Will. "We had ideas for breakfast. We had ideas instead of breakfast. We had so many ideas we forgot to make the money for groceries. When we got a little ahead my father, or Tom, patented something. I'm the only one in the family, except my mother, who didn't have ideas, and I'm the only one who ever made a dime. Tom had ideas about helping people, and some of it was pretty darn near socialism. And if you tell me you don't care about making a profit, I'm going to throw that coffee pot right at your head."
"Well, I don't care much."
"You stop right there, Adam. I've got my neck out. If you want to drop forty or fifty thousand dollars quick, you just go on with your idea. But I'm telling you--let your damned idea die. Kick dust over it."
"What's wrong with it?"
"Everything's wrong with it. People in the East aren't used to vegetables in the winter. They wouldn't buy them. You get your cars stuck on a siding and you'll lose the shipment. The market is controlled. Oh, Jesus Christ! It makes me mad when babies try to ride into business on an idea."
Adam sighed. "You make Sam Hamilton sound like a criminal," he said.
"Well, he was my father and I loved him, but I wish to God he had let ideas alone." Will looked at Adam and saw amazement in his eyes, and suddenly Will was ashamed. He shook his head slowly from side to side. "I didn't mean to run down my people," he said. "I think they were good people. But my advice to you stands. Let refrigeration alone."
Adam turned slowly to Lee. "Have we got any more of that lemon pie we had for supper?" he asked.
"I don't think so," said Lee. "I thought I heard mice in the kitchen. I'm afraid there will be white of egg on the boys' pillows. You've got half a quart of whisky."
"Have I? Why don't we have that?"
"I got excited," said Will, and he tried to laugh at himself. "A drink would do me good." His face was fiery red and his voice was strained in his throat. "I'm getting too fat," he said.
But he had two drinks and relaxed. Sitting comfortably, he instructed Adam. "Some things don't ever change their value," he said. "If you want to put money into something, you look around at the world. This war in Europe is going to go on a long time. And when there's war there's going to be hungry people. I won't say it is so, but it wouldn't surprise me if we got into it. I don't trust this Wilson--he's all theory and big words. And if we do get into it, there's going to be fortunes made in imperishable foods. You take rice and corn and wheat and beans, they don't need ice. They keep, and people can stay alive on them. I'd say if you were to plant your whole damned bottom land to beans and just put them away, why, your boys wouldn't have to worry about the future. Beans are up to three cents now. If we get into the war I wouldn't be surprised if they went to ten cents. And you keep beans dry and they'll be right there, waiting for a market. If you want to turn a profit, you plant beans."
He went away feeling good. The shame that had come over him was gone and he knew he had given sound advice.
After Will had gone Lee brought out one-third of a lemon pie and cut it in two. '"He's getting too fat," Lee said.
Adam was thinking. "I only said I wanted something to do," he observed.
"How about the ice-plant?"
"I think I'll buy it."
"You might plant some beans too," said Lee.
2
Late in the year Adam made his great try, and it was a sensation in a year of sensations, both local and international. As he got ready, businessmen spoke of him as farseeing, forward-looking, progress-minded. The departure of six carloads of lettuce packed in ice was given a civic overtone. The Chamber of Commerce attended the departure. The cars were decorated with big posters which said, "Salinas Valley Lettuce." But no one wanted to invest in the project.
Adam untapped energy he did not suspect he had. It was a big job to gather, trim, box, ice, and load the lettuce. There was no equipment for such work. Everything had to be improvised, a great many hands hired and taught to do the work. Everyone gave advice but no one helped. It was estimated that Adam had spent a fortune on his idea, but how big a fortune no one knew. Adam did not know. Only Lee knew.
The idea looked good. The lettuce was consigned to commission merchants in New York at a fine price. Then the train was gone and everyone went home to wait. If it was a success any number of men were willing to dig down to put money in. Even Will Hamilton wondered whether he had not been wrong with his advice.
If the series of events had been planned by an omnipotent and unforgiving enemy it could not have been more effective. As the train came to Sacramento a snow slide closed the Sierras for two days and the six cars stood on a siding, dripping their ice away. On the third day the freight crossed the mountains, and that was the time for unseasonable warm weather throughout the Middle West. In Chicago there developed a confusion of orders--no one's fault--just one of those things that happen, and Adam's six cars of lettuce stood in the yard for five more days. That was enough, and there is no reason to go into it in detail. What arrived in New York was six carloads of horrible slop with a sizable charge just to get rid of it.
Adam read the telegram from the commission house and he settled back in his chair and a strange enduring smile came on his face and did not go away.
Lee kept away from him to let him get a grip on himself. The boys heard the reaction in Salinas. Adam was a fool. These know-it-all dreamers always got into trouble. Businessmen congratulated themselves on their foresight in keeping out of it. It took experience to be a businessman. People who inherited their money always got into trouble. And if you wanted any proof--just look at how Adam had run his ranch. A fool and his money were soon parted. Maybe that would teach him a lesson. And he had doubled the output of the ice company.
Will Hamilton recalled that he had not only argued against it but had foretold in detail what would happen. He did not feel pleasure, but what could you do when a man wouldn't take advice from a sound businessman? And, God knows, Will had plenty of experience with fly-by-night ideas. In a roundabout way it was recalled that Sam Hamilton had been a fool too. And as for Tom Hamilton--he had been just crazy.
When Lee felt that enough time had passed he did not beat around the bush. He sat directly in front of Adam to get and to keep his attention.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"All right."
"You aren't going to crawl back in your hole, are you?"
"What makes you think that?" Adam asked.
"Well, you have the look on your face you used to wear. And you've got that sleepwalker light in your eyes. Does this hurt your feelings?"
"No," said Adam. "The only thing I was wondering about was whether I'm wiped out."
"Not quite," said Lee. "You have about nine thousand dollars left and the ranch."
"There's a two-thousand-dollar bill for garbage disposal," said Adam.
"That's before the nine thousand."
"I owe quite a bit for the new ice machinery."
"That's paid."
"I have nine thousand?"
"And the ranch," said Lee. "Maybe you can sell the ice plant."
Adam's face tightened up and lost the dazed smi
le. "I still believe it will work," he said. "It was a whole lot of accidents. I'm going to keep the ice plant. Cold does preserve things. Besides, the plant makes some money. Maybe I can figure something out."
"Try not to figure something that costs money," said Lee. "I would hate to leave my gas stove."
3
The twins felt Adam's failure very deeply. They were fifteen years old and they had known so long that they were sons of a wealthy man that the feeling was hard to lose. If only the affair had not been a kind of carnival it would not have been so bad. They remembered the big placards on the freight cars with horror. If the businessmen made fun of Adam, the high-school group was much more cruel. Overnight it became the thing to refer to the boys as "Aron and Cal Lettuce," or simply as "Lettuce-head."
Aron discussed his problem with Abra. "It's going to make a big difference," he told her.
Abra had grown to be a beautiful girl. Her breasts were rising with the leaven of her years, and her face had the calm and warmth of beauty. She had gone beyond prettiness. She was strong and sure and feminine.
She looked at his worried face and asked, "Why is it going to make a difference?"
"Well, one thing, I think we're poor."
"You would have worked anyway."
"You know I want to go to college."
"You still can. I'll help you. Did your father lose all his money?"
"I don't know. That's what they say."
"Who is 'they'?" Abra asked.
"Why, everybody. And maybe your father and mother won't want you to marry me."
"Then I won't tell them about it," said Abra,
"You're pretty sure of yourself."
"Yes," she said, "I'm pretty sure of myself. Will you kiss me?"
"Right here? Right in the street?"
"Why not?"
"Everybody'd see."
"I want them to," said Abra.
Aron said, "No. I don't like to make things public like that."
She stepped around in front of him and stopped him. "You look here, mister. You kiss me now."
"Why?"
She said slowly, "So everybody will know that I'm Mrs. Lettuce-head."
He gave her a quick embarrassed peck and then forced her beside him again. "Maybe I ought to call it off myself," he said.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I'm not good enough for you now. I'm just another poor kid. You think I haven't seen the difference in your father?"
"You're just crazy," Abra said. And she frowned a little because she had seen the difference in her father too.
They went into Bell's candy store and sat at a table. The rage was celery tonic that year. The year before it had been root-beer ice-cream sodas.
Abra stirred bubbles delicately with her straw and thought how her father had changed since the lettuce failure. He had said to her, "Don't you think it would be wise to see someone else for a change?"
"But I'm engaged to Aron."
"Engaged!" he snorted at her. "Since when do children get engaged? You'd better look around a little. There are other fish in the sea."
And she remembered that recently there had been references to suitability of families and once a hint that some people couldn't keep a scandal hidden forever. This had happened only when Adam was reputed to have lost all of his money."
She leaned across the table. "You know what we could really do is so simple it will make you laugh."
"What?"
"We could run your father's ranch. My father says it's beautiful land."
"No," Aron said quickly.
"Why not?"
"I'm not going to be a farmer and you're not going to b? a farmer's wife."
"I'm going to be Aron's wife, no matter what he is."
"I'm not going to give up college," he said.
"I'll help you," Abra said again.
"Where would you get the money?"
"Steal it," she said.
"I want to get out of this town," he said. "Everybody's sneering at me. I can't stand it here."
"They'll forget it pretty soon."
"No, they won't either. I don't want to stay two years more to finish high school."
"Do you want to go away from me, Aron?"
"No. Oh, damn it, why did he have to mess with things he doesn't know about?"
Abra reproved him. "Don't you blame your father. If it had worked everybody'd been bowing to him."
"Well, it didn't work. He sure fixed me. I can't hold up my head. By God! I hate him."
Abra said sternly, "Aron! You stop talking like that!"
"How do I know he didn't lie about my mother?"
Abra's face reddened with anger. "You ought to be spanked," she said. "If it wasn't in front of everybody I'd spank you myself." She looked at his beautiful face, twisted now with rage and frustration, and suddenly she changed her tactics. "Why don't you ask about your mother? Just come right out and ask him."
"I can't, I promised you."
"You only promised not to say what I told you."
"Well, if I asked him he'd want to know where I heard."
"All right," she cried, "you're a spoiled baby! I let you out of your promise. Go ahead and ask him."
"I don't know if I will or not."
"Sometimes I want to kill you," she said. "But Aron--I do love you so. I do love you so." There was giggling from the stools in front of the soda fountain. Their voices had risen and they were overheard by their peers. Aron blushed and tears of anger started in his eyes. He ran out of the store and plunged away up the street.
Abra calmly picked up her purse and straightened her skirt and brushed it with her hand. She walked calmly over to Mr. Bell and paid for the celery tonics. On her way to the door she stopped by the giggling group. "You let him alone," she said coldly. She walked on, and a falsetto followed her--"Oh, Aron, I do love you so."
In the street she broke into a run to try to catch up with Aron, but she couldn't find him. She called on the telephone. Lee said that Aron had not come home. But Aron was in his bedroom, lapped in resentments--Lee had seen him creep in and close his door behind him.
Abra walked up and down the streets of Salinas, hoping to catch sight of him. She was angry at him, but she was also bewilderingly lonely, Aron hadn't ever run away from her before. Abra had lost her gift for being alone.
Cal had to learn loneliness. For a very short time he tried to join Abra and Aron, but they didn't want him. He was jealous and tried to attract the girl to himself and failed.
His studies he found easy and not greatly interesting. Aron had to work harder to learn, wherefore Aron had a greater sense of accomplishment when he did learn, and he developed a respect for learning out of all proportion to the quality of the learning. Cal drifted through. He didn't care much for the sports at school or for the activities. His growing restlessness drove him out at night. He grew tall and rangy, and always there was the darkness about him.
Chapter 38
1
From his first memory Cal had craved warmth and affection, just as everyone does. If he had been an only child or if Aron had been a different kind of boy, Cal might have achieved his relationship normally and easily. But from the very first people were won instantly to Aron by his beauty and his simplicity. Cal very naturally competed for attention and affection in the only way he knew--by trying to imitate Aron. And what was charming in the blond ingenuousness of Aron became suspicious and unpleasant in the dark-faced, slit-eyed Cal. And since he was pretending, his performance was not convincing. Where Aron was received, Cal was rebuffed for doing or saying exactly the same thing.
And as a few strokes on the nose will make a puppy head shy, so a few rebuffs will make a boy shy all over. But whereas a puppy will cringe away or roll on its back, groveling, a little boy may cover his shyness with nonchalance, with bravado, or with secrecy. And once a boy has suffered rejection, he will find rejection even where it does not exist--or, worse, will draw it forth from people simply by exp
ecting it.
In Cal the process had been so long and so slow that he felt no strangeness. He had built a wall of self-sufficiency around himself, strong enough to defend him against the world. If his wall had any weak places they may have been on the sides nearest Aron and Lee, and particularly nearest Adam. Perhaps in his father's very unawareness Cal had felt safety. Not being noticed at all was better than being noticed adversely.
When he was quite small Cal had discovered a secret. If he moved very quietly to where his father was sitting and if he leaned very lightly against his father's knee, Adam's hand would rise automatically and his fingers would caress Cal's shoulder. It is probable that Adam did not even know he did it, but the caress brought such a raging flood of emotion to the boy that he saved this special joy and used it only when he needed it. It was a magic to be depended upon. It was the ceremonial symbol of a dogged adoration.
Things do not change with a change of scene. In Salinas, Cal had no more friends than he had had in King City. Associates he had, and authority and some admiration, but friends he did not have. He lived alone and walked alone.
2
If Lee knew that Cal left the house at night and returned very late, he gave no sign, since he couldn't do anything about it. The night constables sometimes saw him walking alone. Chief Heiserman made it a point to speak to the truant officer, who assured him that Cal not only had no record for playing hooky but actually was a very good student. The chief knew Adam of course, and since Cal broke no windows and caused no disturbance he told the constables to keep their eyes open but to let the boy alone unless he got into trouble.
Old Tom Watson caught up with Cal one night and asked, "Why do you walk around so much at night?"
"I'm not bothering anybody," said Cal defensively.
"I know you're not. But you ought to be home in bed."
"I'm not sleepy," said Cal, and this didn't make any sense at all to Old Tom, who couldn't remember any time in his whole life when he wasn't sleepy. The boy looked in on the fan-tan games in Chinatown, but he didn't play. It was a mystery, but then fairly simple things were mysteries to Tom Watson and he preferred to leave them that way.
On his walks Cal often recalled the conversation between Lee and Adam he had heard on the ranch. He wanted to dig out the truth. And his knowledge accumulated slowly, a reference heard in the street, the gibing talk in the pool hall. If Aron had heard the fragments he would not have noticed, but Cal collected them. He knew that his mother was not dead. He knew also, both from the first conversation and from the talk he heard, that Aron was not likely to be pleased at discovering her.
"I was thinking of buying the ice plant here in Salinas and trying to ship some things."
"That would cost a lot of money."
"I have quite a lot of money," said Adam.
Will Hamilton putted his lip angrily. "I don't know why I got into this," he said. "I know better."
"How do you mean?"
"Look here," said Will. "When a man comes to me for advice about an idea, I know he doesn't want advice. He wants me to agree with him. And if I want to keep his friendship I tell him his idea is fine and go ahead. But I like you and you're a friend of my family, so I'm going to stick my neck out."
Lee put down his darning, moved his sewing basket to the floor, and changed his glasses.
Adam remonstrated, "What are you getting upset about?"
"I come from a whole goddam family of inventors," said Will. "We had ideas for breakfast. We had ideas instead of breakfast. We had so many ideas we forgot to make the money for groceries. When we got a little ahead my father, or Tom, patented something. I'm the only one in the family, except my mother, who didn't have ideas, and I'm the only one who ever made a dime. Tom had ideas about helping people, and some of it was pretty darn near socialism. And if you tell me you don't care about making a profit, I'm going to throw that coffee pot right at your head."
"Well, I don't care much."
"You stop right there, Adam. I've got my neck out. If you want to drop forty or fifty thousand dollars quick, you just go on with your idea. But I'm telling you--let your damned idea die. Kick dust over it."
"What's wrong with it?"
"Everything's wrong with it. People in the East aren't used to vegetables in the winter. They wouldn't buy them. You get your cars stuck on a siding and you'll lose the shipment. The market is controlled. Oh, Jesus Christ! It makes me mad when babies try to ride into business on an idea."
Adam sighed. "You make Sam Hamilton sound like a criminal," he said.
"Well, he was my father and I loved him, but I wish to God he had let ideas alone." Will looked at Adam and saw amazement in his eyes, and suddenly Will was ashamed. He shook his head slowly from side to side. "I didn't mean to run down my people," he said. "I think they were good people. But my advice to you stands. Let refrigeration alone."
Adam turned slowly to Lee. "Have we got any more of that lemon pie we had for supper?" he asked.
"I don't think so," said Lee. "I thought I heard mice in the kitchen. I'm afraid there will be white of egg on the boys' pillows. You've got half a quart of whisky."
"Have I? Why don't we have that?"
"I got excited," said Will, and he tried to laugh at himself. "A drink would do me good." His face was fiery red and his voice was strained in his throat. "I'm getting too fat," he said.
But he had two drinks and relaxed. Sitting comfortably, he instructed Adam. "Some things don't ever change their value," he said. "If you want to put money into something, you look around at the world. This war in Europe is going to go on a long time. And when there's war there's going to be hungry people. I won't say it is so, but it wouldn't surprise me if we got into it. I don't trust this Wilson--he's all theory and big words. And if we do get into it, there's going to be fortunes made in imperishable foods. You take rice and corn and wheat and beans, they don't need ice. They keep, and people can stay alive on them. I'd say if you were to plant your whole damned bottom land to beans and just put them away, why, your boys wouldn't have to worry about the future. Beans are up to three cents now. If we get into the war I wouldn't be surprised if they went to ten cents. And you keep beans dry and they'll be right there, waiting for a market. If you want to turn a profit, you plant beans."
He went away feeling good. The shame that had come over him was gone and he knew he had given sound advice.
After Will had gone Lee brought out one-third of a lemon pie and cut it in two. '"He's getting too fat," Lee said.
Adam was thinking. "I only said I wanted something to do," he observed.
"How about the ice-plant?"
"I think I'll buy it."
"You might plant some beans too," said Lee.
2
Late in the year Adam made his great try, and it was a sensation in a year of sensations, both local and international. As he got ready, businessmen spoke of him as farseeing, forward-looking, progress-minded. The departure of six carloads of lettuce packed in ice was given a civic overtone. The Chamber of Commerce attended the departure. The cars were decorated with big posters which said, "Salinas Valley Lettuce." But no one wanted to invest in the project.
Adam untapped energy he did not suspect he had. It was a big job to gather, trim, box, ice, and load the lettuce. There was no equipment for such work. Everything had to be improvised, a great many hands hired and taught to do the work. Everyone gave advice but no one helped. It was estimated that Adam had spent a fortune on his idea, but how big a fortune no one knew. Adam did not know. Only Lee knew.
The idea looked good. The lettuce was consigned to commission merchants in New York at a fine price. Then the train was gone and everyone went home to wait. If it was a success any number of men were willing to dig down to put money in. Even Will Hamilton wondered whether he had not been wrong with his advice.
If the series of events had been planned by an omnipotent and unforgiving enemy it could not have been more effective. As the train came to Sacramento a snow slide closed the Sierras for two days and the six cars stood on a siding, dripping their ice away. On the third day the freight crossed the mountains, and that was the time for unseasonable warm weather throughout the Middle West. In Chicago there developed a confusion of orders--no one's fault--just one of those things that happen, and Adam's six cars of lettuce stood in the yard for five more days. That was enough, and there is no reason to go into it in detail. What arrived in New York was six carloads of horrible slop with a sizable charge just to get rid of it.
Adam read the telegram from the commission house and he settled back in his chair and a strange enduring smile came on his face and did not go away.
Lee kept away from him to let him get a grip on himself. The boys heard the reaction in Salinas. Adam was a fool. These know-it-all dreamers always got into trouble. Businessmen congratulated themselves on their foresight in keeping out of it. It took experience to be a businessman. People who inherited their money always got into trouble. And if you wanted any proof--just look at how Adam had run his ranch. A fool and his money were soon parted. Maybe that would teach him a lesson. And he had doubled the output of the ice company.
Will Hamilton recalled that he had not only argued against it but had foretold in detail what would happen. He did not feel pleasure, but what could you do when a man wouldn't take advice from a sound businessman? And, God knows, Will had plenty of experience with fly-by-night ideas. In a roundabout way it was recalled that Sam Hamilton had been a fool too. And as for Tom Hamilton--he had been just crazy.
When Lee felt that enough time had passed he did not beat around the bush. He sat directly in front of Adam to get and to keep his attention.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"All right."
"You aren't going to crawl back in your hole, are you?"
"What makes you think that?" Adam asked.
"Well, you have the look on your face you used to wear. And you've got that sleepwalker light in your eyes. Does this hurt your feelings?"
"No," said Adam. "The only thing I was wondering about was whether I'm wiped out."
"Not quite," said Lee. "You have about nine thousand dollars left and the ranch."
"There's a two-thousand-dollar bill for garbage disposal," said Adam.
"That's before the nine thousand."
"I owe quite a bit for the new ice machinery."
"That's paid."
"I have nine thousand?"
"And the ranch," said Lee. "Maybe you can sell the ice plant."
Adam's face tightened up and lost the dazed smi
"Try not to figure something that costs money," said Lee. "I would hate to leave my gas stove."
3
The twins felt Adam's failure very deeply. They were fifteen years old and they had known so long that they were sons of a wealthy man that the feeling was hard to lose. If only the affair had not been a kind of carnival it would not have been so bad. They remembered the big placards on the freight cars with horror. If the businessmen made fun of Adam, the high-school group was much more cruel. Overnight it became the thing to refer to the boys as "Aron and Cal Lettuce," or simply as "Lettuce-head."
Aron discussed his problem with Abra. "It's going to make a big difference," he told her.
Abra had grown to be a beautiful girl. Her breasts were rising with the leaven of her years, and her face had the calm and warmth of beauty. She had gone beyond prettiness. She was strong and sure and feminine.
She looked at his worried face and asked, "Why is it going to make a difference?"
"Well, one thing, I think we're poor."
"You would have worked anyway."
"You know I want to go to college."
"You still can. I'll help you. Did your father lose all his money?"
"I don't know. That's what they say."
"Who is 'they'?" Abra asked.
"Why, everybody. And maybe your father and mother won't want you to marry me."
"Then I won't tell them about it," said Abra,
"You're pretty sure of yourself."
"Yes," she said, "I'm pretty sure of myself. Will you kiss me?"
"Right here? Right in the street?"
"Why not?"
"Everybody'd see."
"I want them to," said Abra.
Aron said, "No. I don't like to make things public like that."
She stepped around in front of him and stopped him. "You look here, mister. You kiss me now."
"Why?"
She said slowly, "So everybody will know that I'm Mrs. Lettuce-head."
He gave her a quick embarrassed peck and then forced her beside him again. "Maybe I ought to call it off myself," he said.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I'm not good enough for you now. I'm just another poor kid. You think I haven't seen the difference in your father?"
"You're just crazy," Abra said. And she frowned a little because she had seen the difference in her father too.
They went into Bell's candy store and sat at a table. The rage was celery tonic that year. The year before it had been root-beer ice-cream sodas.
Abra stirred bubbles delicately with her straw and thought how her father had changed since the lettuce failure. He had said to her, "Don't you think it would be wise to see someone else for a change?"
"But I'm engaged to Aron."
"Engaged!" he snorted at her. "Since when do children get engaged? You'd better look around a little. There are other fish in the sea."
And she remembered that recently there had been references to suitability of families and once a hint that some people couldn't keep a scandal hidden forever. This had happened only when Adam was reputed to have lost all of his money."
She leaned across the table. "You know what we could really do is so simple it will make you laugh."
"What?"
"We could run your father's ranch. My father says it's beautiful land."
"No," Aron said quickly.
"Why not?"
"I'm not going to be a farmer and you're not going to b? a farmer's wife."
"I'm going to be Aron's wife, no matter what he is."
"I'm not going to give up college," he said.
"I'll help you," Abra said again.
"Where would you get the money?"
"Steal it," she said.
"I want to get out of this town," he said. "Everybody's sneering at me. I can't stand it here."
"They'll forget it pretty soon."
"No, they won't either. I don't want to stay two years more to finish high school."
"Do you want to go away from me, Aron?"
"No. Oh, damn it, why did he have to mess with things he doesn't know about?"
Abra reproved him. "Don't you blame your father. If it had worked everybody'd been bowing to him."
"Well, it didn't work. He sure fixed me. I can't hold up my head. By God! I hate him."
Abra said sternly, "Aron! You stop talking like that!"
"How do I know he didn't lie about my mother?"
Abra's face reddened with anger. "You ought to be spanked," she said. "If it wasn't in front of everybody I'd spank you myself." She looked at his beautiful face, twisted now with rage and frustration, and suddenly she changed her tactics. "Why don't you ask about your mother? Just come right out and ask him."
"I can't, I promised you."
"You only promised not to say what I told you."
"Well, if I asked him he'd want to know where I heard."
"All right," she cried, "you're a spoiled baby! I let you out of your promise. Go ahead and ask him."
"I don't know if I will or not."
"Sometimes I want to kill you," she said. "But Aron--I do love you so. I do love you so." There was giggling from the stools in front of the soda fountain. Their voices had risen and they were overheard by their peers. Aron blushed and tears of anger started in his eyes. He ran out of the store and plunged away up the street.
Abra calmly picked up her purse and straightened her skirt and brushed it with her hand. She walked calmly over to Mr. Bell and paid for the celery tonics. On her way to the door she stopped by the giggling group. "You let him alone," she said coldly. She walked on, and a falsetto followed her--"Oh, Aron, I do love you so."
In the street she broke into a run to try to catch up with Aron, but she couldn't find him. She called on the telephone. Lee said that Aron had not come home. But Aron was in his bedroom, lapped in resentments--Lee had seen him creep in and close his door behind him.
Abra walked up and down the streets of Salinas, hoping to catch sight of him. She was angry at him, but she was also bewilderingly lonely, Aron hadn't ever run away from her before. Abra had lost her gift for being alone.
Cal had to learn loneliness. For a very short time he tried to join Abra and Aron, but they didn't want him. He was jealous and tried to attract the girl to himself and failed.
His studies he found easy and not greatly interesting. Aron had to work harder to learn, wherefore Aron had a greater sense of accomplishment when he did learn, and he developed a respect for learning out of all proportion to the quality of the learning. Cal drifted through. He didn't care much for the sports at school or for the activities. His growing restlessness drove him out at night. He grew tall and rangy, and always there was the darkness about him.
Chapter 38
1
From his first memory Cal had craved warmth and affection, just as everyone does. If he had been an only child or if Aron had been a different kind of boy, Cal might have achieved his relationship normally and easily. But from the very first people were won instantly to Aron by his beauty and his simplicity. Cal very naturally competed for attention and affection in the only way he knew--by trying to imitate Aron. And what was charming in the blond ingenuousness of Aron became suspicious and unpleasant in the dark-faced, slit-eyed Cal. And since he was pretending, his performance was not convincing. Where Aron was received, Cal was rebuffed for doing or saying exactly the same thing.
And as a few strokes on the nose will make a puppy head shy, so a few rebuffs will make a boy shy all over. But whereas a puppy will cringe away or roll on its back, groveling, a little boy may cover his shyness with nonchalance, with bravado, or with secrecy. And once a boy has suffered rejection, he will find rejection even where it does not exist--or, worse, will draw it forth from people simply by exp
In Cal the process had been so long and so slow that he felt no strangeness. He had built a wall of self-sufficiency around himself, strong enough to defend him against the world. If his wall had any weak places they may have been on the sides nearest Aron and Lee, and particularly nearest Adam. Perhaps in his father's very unawareness Cal had felt safety. Not being noticed at all was better than being noticed adversely.
When he was quite small Cal had discovered a secret. If he moved very quietly to where his father was sitting and if he leaned very lightly against his father's knee, Adam's hand would rise automatically and his fingers would caress Cal's shoulder. It is probable that Adam did not even know he did it, but the caress brought such a raging flood of emotion to the boy that he saved this special joy and used it only when he needed it. It was a magic to be depended upon. It was the ceremonial symbol of a dogged adoration.
Things do not change with a change of scene. In Salinas, Cal had no more friends than he had had in King City. Associates he had, and authority and some admiration, but friends he did not have. He lived alone and walked alone.
2
If Lee knew that Cal left the house at night and returned very late, he gave no sign, since he couldn't do anything about it. The night constables sometimes saw him walking alone. Chief Heiserman made it a point to speak to the truant officer, who assured him that Cal not only had no record for playing hooky but actually was a very good student. The chief knew Adam of course, and since Cal broke no windows and caused no disturbance he told the constables to keep their eyes open but to let the boy alone unless he got into trouble.
Old Tom Watson caught up with Cal one night and asked, "Why do you walk around so much at night?"
"I'm not bothering anybody," said Cal defensively.
"I know you're not. But you ought to be home in bed."
"I'm not sleepy," said Cal, and this didn't make any sense at all to Old Tom, who couldn't remember any time in his whole life when he wasn't sleepy. The boy looked in on the fan-tan games in Chinatown, but he didn't play. It was a mystery, but then fairly simple things were mysteries to Tom Watson and he preferred to leave them that way.
On his walks Cal often recalled the conversation between Lee and Adam he had heard on the ranch. He wanted to dig out the truth. And his knowledge accumulated slowly, a reference heard in the street, the gibing talk in the pool hall. If Aron had heard the fragments he would not have noticed, but Cal collected them. He knew that his mother was not dead. He knew also, both from the first conversation and from the talk he heard, that Aron was not likely to be pleased at discovering her.