"I have most of what I got from my filling station," I said. "But it's awfully nice of you to offer-"
"Not at all. You're more than welcome to any help I can give you… What do you think about it, Mr. Bigelow, as a more or less pleasant solution to an unpleasant eventuality? You'd have complete quiet, the most favorable conditions for rest and study. The nearest town is forty miles away, accessible enough by car but far enough distant to insure your privacy. How does it sound to you, anyway?"
It sounded swell. I'd never heard of a better place to knock a guy off-as I was going to be knocked off if I fell down on the job here.
"That sounds nice," I said. "But I don't imagine I'll be going. I'm staying right here and going to school and-and do everything else I planned."
"Of course. Certainly," he nodded, and stood up to go. "It's just something to think about."
I thought about it.
It was almost one o'clock in the morning before I could get to sleep.
The next day, the day after that night, rather, was Friday. And I was still awfully weak and wrung out, but I knew I'd better not lie around any longer. Fay would start to worrying again. Kendall would start to wondering whether I could carry on or not. And if he had any doubts, it wouldn't be long until The Man had them.
I got up early, so that! could take my time about dressing, and ate breakfast with Kendall. I left the house when he did, and headed for the college.
That first morning-Monday morning-I hadn't paid any attention to the other students. I'd seen them, of course; some of them were passing us or we were passing them all the way to the school. But they hadn't made any impression on me. I mean, I hadn't been bothered by them. Kendall had been so free and easy that I'd felt the same way.
This morning, it was different. I felt like a jerk.
There was a regular parade of students going toward the college, and I was right in the middle of it. But somehow I wasn't part of it. I was always by myself, with the others in back or ahead of me, nudging each other when they thought I wasn't looking; laughing and whispering and talking. About my clothes, about the way I looked, about-everything. Because nothing about me was right.
I went to my first class, and the instructor acted like he'd never seen me before. He wanted to know if I was sure I was in the right class and why I was starting to school so late in the term. And he was one of those goofs who keep asking you questions without listening to your answers; and I had to explain, over and over, while the others sat grinning and watching me.
Finally, it sank in on him. He remembered about Kendall introducing me, and he halfway apologized for his forgetfulness. But things still weren't squared away. I'd been absent for three days, so I had to go to the dean of men for an okay before I could be admitted to classes.
I got it-a cut slip,! think they called it-and got back just about thirty seconds before the class was over. I was just sitting down in my seat when the bell rang.
Everyone got a big bang out of it. You'd have thought it was the funniest thing that ever happened.
In one class, I guess! must have moved a dozen times before I found a seat that didn't belong to someone else. I'd just get sat down when some dope would trail up and say it was where he sat. And, yeah, I think they were making a game out of it, trying to make me look dopier than! felt, but all I could do was keep moving until the instructor woke up and assigned me to a desk.
The third class, the one just before lunch, was the worst one. It was English literature, and everyone was taking turns at reading a few paragraphs aloud. So it came my turn, and the way! was looking down and talking at the same time, my teeth slipped a little bit. And everything I said sounded sort of like baby talk. The snickers and giggles got louder and louder, and finally the instructor told me to sit down.
"Very amusing, Bigelow," he said, giving me a glare that would have frosted an orchard. "Is Mr. Kendall acquainted with your talent for mimicry?"
I shrugged and smirked-what the hell could I do or say? And he frowned and nodded for another student to start reading. A little bit later-although it didn't seem like a little bit-the noon bell rang.
I stopped by his desk on the way out, and explained about the teeth. He was pretty nice about it, said he was sorry he'd misunderstood the situation and so on. So that was taken care of: he wouldn't knock me to Kendall. But…
I walked down the corridor to the building entrance, and everyone seemed to be laughing and talking about me. And part of it was imagination, of course, but not all of it. It was a small college, and I guess the students were pretty hard up for kicks, and news traveled fast.
I headed toward the house, wondering why in hell I bothered when I know I wouldn't be able to eat anything. I tried to keep to the side streets, dodging people whenever I could and cursing myself for doing it.
She ducked out of an alley just as I was ducking across it. Looking back, now, I'd say that she'd been waiting for me to pass.
I said. "Oh, hello, Ruth," and started to go on.
She said, "C-carl. Wait a minute."
"Yeah?" I said, I paused, waiting.
"I k-now you're mad at me about something, but-"
"Mad?" I said. "I don't even know you're alive."
"Y-yes," she said, "I know that, too. I didn't want to talk to you about that. All I wanted to say was about… about school. D-don't mind the way they act. Just go ahead, and after a while you get used to it."
She smiled, tried to. She nodded her head, and pivoted on her crutch.
And I knew that I should let her go like that, a clean hard break. But I couldn't do it. I stepped in front of her.
"I know you're alive, Ruthie," I said. "I know it plenty."
"N-no… I mean, it's all right, Carl. I-I guess, I just-"
"I've been trying to give you a break. I'm no good for you. I'm no good, period. But-"
"You are, too!" Her eyes flashed. "You're nice!"
"And there's Mrs. Winroy," I said. "I think she might be a little suspicious. If she thought there was anything going on between us, she'd probably fire you fast."
"Oh," she said, and her voice quavered a little. "I d-didn't… has she said anything? I couldn't lose my job, Carl! If I-"
"You'll have to watch it, then," I said. "That's why I've acted the way I have, Ruthie. It's the only reason. I like you a lot."
She stood blushing and trembling, the splayed hand gripping the brace of the crutch.
"That's the way it is, Ruth. Keep it in mind. I think you're pretty swell. If I don't show it, it's because I can't."
She nodded, looking like she was a dog and I owned her.
"Now, you can do me a little favor," I said. "If you want to. I'm feeling a little rocky, but I don't want to go back to the house and have everyone worrying over me, so-"
"Shouldn't you, Carl? I mean, don't you think you should stay in bed for another day?"
"I'm all right,"! said, "but! don't think I feel up to school this afternoon. If you'll tell Kendall, or anyone else that asks, that I'm eating lunch at the cafeteria-don't let on, you know, that everything isn't okay-"