Amelia woke at seven thirty. Thirty minutes later she was still in bed. She was looking at the roses that climbed the trellis outside her window. At eight fifteen she put her face into her pillow and cried. At eight thirty she studied a robin that had perched upon her windowsill. At eight forty she cried. At eight fifty-five she rose and put on her robe and went into the bathroom and prepared herself for a day filled with uncertainty.
Having dressed and having had some tea and a boiled egg that she cooked with her non-electric New Perfection Oil Cook Stove — or rather Chester’s oil cook stove, because it was, after all, Chester’s house — Amelia was roused from her reflective nibbling of a slice of buttered toast by a knock on the front door.
Was it Chester? Had he returned? Had he forgotten his key? And how did she feel about his coming back?
It wasn’t Chester.
The young man at the door was Ichabod gangly. He had an Adam’s apple protruding from his stringy neck that looked big enough to be an Adam’s grapefruit. His suit looked to have been recently purchased, and ill fitted a man of his height and long pipe-stem limbs, giving too much of a view of his socks. It wasn’t necessary for the slightly nervous young man to explain the purpose of his visit. He was holding it next to him. It was a vacuum cleaner — a new, self-contained, self-adjusted, dust and dirt-proof, lubricant-packed, ball-bearing-motored Greater Energex life-lasting cleaner, and it could be Amelia’s for only $24.95.* (*Without attachments.) The young man, in spite of his greenhorn appearance, was salesman enough to have said all of this to Amelia before she was even able to return his “good morning.”
As he finally took a breath, she wedged in. “Are you always this talkative so early in the morning?”
“Is it early?” He glanced at his wristwatch. The watch was easy to see since his cuffs and sleeves were nowhere in its vicinity. “It’s after nine thirty.”
“Then let me say that it’s early for me. Moreover, sir, I’m not in the market for a vacuum cleaner.”
“Perhaps you would change your mind, madam, if I told you that it’s the best vacuum cleaner in its price range. It has several truly astonishing features. Are you familiar with the ‘Airizer’?”
“No. And I haven’t really much of a desire to be.”
The man flashed a smile that said that he was all but certain Amelia’s statement was only a passing jest. “The Airizer is a marvelous new way to air your blankets, pillows, woolens, and baby’s things. It forces fresh air through every thread and fiber by vacuum. So, you see, our product not only sucks, but it also airs with sanitary precision.”
With a sigh: “Yes. That is truly astonishing.”
“May I step in and demonstrate our wonderful new product?”
Amelia shook her head. “This isn’t a good time.”
“Perhaps I may come in for a few minutes only? I’m eager to have you hold the easy-grip, ebonized wood handle. And we have three different brushes, each of which is earning the praises of thousands of housewives just like yourself.”
“I really don’t think—” Amelia shook her head. Tears began to well up in her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so pushy.” The young salesman pulled a handkerchief from his shirt pocket and offered it to Amelia. “Please…”
Amelia took the handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes.
“The fact of the matter is that my husband bought me a new vacuum cleaner just last month. We were married in early June. I’m sorry to say that it isn’t an Energex. It’s a Hoover. He even bought me a Hamilton Beach carpet washer — the industrial kind that professional carpet cleaners use. He wants me to be very happy in our new domestic life together. But I’m not.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee? I would love to have someone to talk to, provided you don’t try to sell me a vacuum cleaner I don’t need.”
“I don’t suppose one cup of coffee would put me too much off my schedule. And I have been feeling a little draggy this morning.”
Amelia held the door open for the man to enter. “Oh,” she said, patting her eyes again. “What’s your name?”
“It’s Ray. Ray Gurson.”
Ray set all of his demonstration equipment down on the floor near the front door and followed Amelia to the kitchen. Over her shoulder, Amelia said, “I also have some muffins. I made them yesterday. Do you like muffins?”
“I do, madam. Very much so.”
“You may call me Amelia.”
While Amelia was making coffee she spoke of her husband. “Do you know him? Chester Bream. The Breams have been in Richmond for three generations.”
“I don’t know too many of the non-Quaker families.”
“You’re a Quaker?”
“I grew up a Quaker. I don’t know what I am now — just a vacuum-cleaner salesman, I guess.”
“I don’t know anybody in Richmond. Except a woman who lives down the street. Her kitchen is an electrical fire hazard, but that’s all right because her husband’s a fireman. And of course, I met some of Chester’s family and friends at the wedding.”
“That’s a beautiful Hoosier cabinet.”
“Chester bought it for me. He loves me very much. That’s the problem. I wonder if I can ask you a question. You’re a man.”
Ray nodded.
“And I don’t get to talk to too many men who aren’t my husband, as a rule. I didn’t have any brothers. And my father was shy — wasn’t very comfortable discussing certain things.”
“Certain things?”
“Don’t you love the smell of brewing coffee? It infuses a room with such a wonderful aroma. I drank tea earlier. I don’t know why. I don’t know what I’m doing these days. Now may I ask you, Ray — you seem like a man of the world — is it a natural thing for a husband to want his wife to urinate on him?”
Ray blushed. And choked. “I beg your pardon?”
“My new husband. He has this proclivity. He didn’t speak of it before we were married. But then afterwards — just last night, in fact — he asked me if I would squat over his stomach and pee all over him. He said that a lot of men enjoy this sort of thing. Is it something that you enjoy, Ray?”
Ray remained speechless for a quarter of a minute.
“I’m sorry. I’ve embarrassed you. Well, there’s my answer, and I thank you for it. I knew he was a freak. I held out hope that maybe I was just a little behind the times. After all, it took me a while to acquire a taste for bathtub gin. And I very much like my hair long like this. I didn’t see why I should bob it. But it just seemed to me that a husband asking a wife to pee on him was something very much outside the norm.”
Ray stood up. “I should be going.”
“You think I’m joking? I’m not joking. I threw my husband out of the house last night because of this. The very thought of it. Disgusting. And that awful way that he begged for it.”
Amelia closed her eyes and shook her head.
Ray took a step away from the table.
“Before you go, I really would like you to tell me: Is this the sort of thing you would ever ask of your wife? I don’t see a ring on your finger, so I’m speaking in terms of your future wife. Would you ask her to empty her bladder all over you? Would that excite you?”
Ray shook his head. Then he said emphatically, “No, it would not.”
“Just as I thought. You’ve been very helpful, Ray. Are you sure that I can’t talk you into staying for that cup of coffee? I promise to change the subject.”