A moment later he took his seat, next to an immense old woman with a child on her lap. Elwood sat quietly, his hands folded, staring ahead and waiting, as the bus moved off down the street, moving towards the residential district.
When he got home there was no one there. The house was dark and cool. He went to the bedroom and got his old clothes from the closet. He was just going out into the back yard when Liz appeared in the driveway, her arms loaded with groceries.
“E.J.!” she said. “What’s the matter? Why are you home?”
“I don’t know. I took some leave. It’s all right.”
Liz put her packages down on the fence. “For heaven’s sake,” she said irritably. “You frightened me.” She stared at him intently. “You took leave?”
“Yes.”
“How much does that make, this year? How much leave have you taken in all?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? Well, is there any left?”
“Left for what?”
Liz stared at him. Then she picked up her packages and went inside the house, the back door banging after her. Elwood frowned. What was the matter? He went on into the garage and began to drag lumber and tools out on to the lawn, beside the boat.
He gazed up at it. It was square, big and square, like some enormous solid packing crate. Lord, but it was solid. He had put endless beams into it. There was a covered cabin with a big window, the roof tarred over. Quite a boat.
He began to work. Presently Liz came out of the house. She crossed the yard silently, so that he did not notice her until he came to get some large nails.
“Well?” Liz said.
Elwood stopped for a moment. “What is it?”
Liz folded her arms.
Elwood became impatient. “What is it? Why are you looking at me?”
“Did you really take more leave? I can’t believe it. You really came home again to work on—on that.”
Elwood turned away.
“Wait.” She came up beside him. “Don’t walk off from me. Stand still.”
“Be quiet. Don’t shout.”
“I’m not shouting. I want to talk to you. I want to ask you something. May I? May I ask you something? You don’t mind talking to me?”
Elwood nodded.
“Why?” Liz said, her voice low and intense. “Why? Will you tell me that? Why?”
“Why what?”
“That. That-that thing. What is it for? Why are you here in the yard in the middle of the day? For a whole year it’s been like this. At the table last night, all of a sudden you got up and walked out. Why? What’s it all for?”
“It’s almost done,” Elwood murmured. “A few more licks here and there and it’ll be—”
“And then what?” Liz came around in front of him, standing in his path. “And then what? What are you going to do with it? Sell it? Float it? All the neighbors are laughing at you. Everybody in the block knows—” Her voice broke suddenly. “—Knows about you, and this. The kids at school make fun of Bob and Toddy. They tell them their father is—That he’s—”
“That he’s crazy?”
“Please, E.J. Tell me what it’s for. Will you do that? Maybe I can understand. You never told me. Wouldn’t it help? Can’t you even do that?”
“I can’t,” Elwood said.
“You can’t! Why not?”
“Because I don’t know,” Elwood said. “I don’t know what it’s for. Maybe it isn’t for anything.”
“But if it isn’t for anything why do you work on it?”
“I don’t know. I like to work on it. Maybe it’s like whittling.” He waved his hand impatiently. “I’ve always had a workshop of some kind. When I was a kid I used to build model airplanes. I have tools. I’ve always had tools.”
“But why do you come home in the middle of the day?”
“I get restless.”
“Why?”
“I—I hear people talking, and it makes me uneasy. I want to get away from them. There’s something about it all, about them. Their ways. Maybe I have claustrophobia.”
“Shall I call Doctor Evans and make an appointment?”
“No. No, I’m all right. Please, Liz, get out of the way so I can work. I want to finish.”
“And you don’t even know what it’s for.” She shook her head. “So all this time you’ve been working without knowing why. Like some animal that goes out at night and fights, like a cat on the back fence. You leave your work and us to—”
“Get out of the way.”
“Listen to me. You put down that hammer and come inside. You’re putting your suit on and going right back to the office. Do you hear? If you don’t I’m never going to let you inside the house again. You can break down the door if you want, with your hammer. But it’ll be locked for you from now on, if you don’t forget that boat and go back to work.”
There was silence.
“Get out of the way,” Elwood said. “I have to finish.”
Liz stared at him. “You’re going on?” The man pushed past her. “You’re going to go ahead? There’s something wrong with you. Something wrong with your mind. You’re—”
“Stop,” Elwood said, looking past her. Liz turned.
Toddy was standing silently in the driveway, his lunch pail under his arms. His small face was grave and solemn. He did not say anything to them.
“Tod!” Liz said. “Is it that late already?”
Toddy came across the grass to his father. “Hello, boy,” Elwood said. “How was school?”
“Fine.”
“I’m going in the house,” Liz said. “I meant it, E.J. Remember that I meant it.”
She went up the walk. The back door slammed behind her.
Elwood sighed. He sat down on the ladder leading up the side of the boat and put his hammer down. He lit a cigarette and smoked silently. Toddy waiting without speaking.
“Well, boy?” Elwood said at last. “What do you say?”
“What do you want done, Dad?”
“Done?” Elwood smiled. “Well, there’s not too much left. A few things here and there. We’ll be through, soon. You might look around for boards we didn’t nail down on the deck.” He rubbed his jaw. “Almost done. We’ve been working a long time. You could paint, if you want. I want to get the cabin painted. Red, I think. How would red be?”
“Green.”
“Green? All right. There’s some green porch paint in the garage. Do you want to start stirring it up?”
“Sure,” Toddy said. He headed towards the garage.
Elwood watched him go. “Toddy—”
The boy turned. “Yes?”
“Toddy, wait.” Elwood went slowly towards him. “I want to ask you something.”
“What is it, Dad?”
“You—you don’t mind helping me, do you? You don’t mind working on the boat?”
Toddy looked up gravely into his father’s face. He said nothing. For a long time the two of them gazed at each other.
“Okay!” Elwood said suddenly. “You run along and get the paint started.”
Bob came swinging along the driveway with two of the kids from the junior high school. “Hi, Dad,” Bob called, grinning. “Say, how’s it coming?”
“Fine,” Elwood said.
“Look,” Bob said to his pals, pointing to the boat. “You see that? You know what that is?”
“What is it?” one of them said.
Bob opened the kitchen door. “That’s an atomic powered sub.” He grinned, and the two boys grinned. “It’s full of Uranium 235. Dad’s going all the way to Russia with it. When he gets through, there won’t be a thing left of Moscow.”
The boys went inside, the door slamming behind them.
Elwood stood looking up at the boat. In the next yard Mrs. Hunt stopped for a moment with taking down her washing, looking at him and the big square hull rising above him.
“Is it really atomic powered, Mr. Elwood?” she said.
“No.”
“What makes it run, then? I don’t see any sails. What kind of motor is in it? Steam?”
Elwood bit his lip. Strangely, he had never thought of that part. There was no motor in it, no motor at all. There were no sails, no boiler. He had put no engine into it, no turbines, no fuel. Nothing. It was a wood hull, an immense box, and that was all. He had never thought of what would make it go, never in all the time he and Toddy had worked on it.