Bradbury, Ray - SSC 09 (27 page)

 
          
   
Radney
Bellows waited a minute, then cleared his throat and darted away, bouncing his
ball. 'See you later!'

 
          
    Odd stared at the spot
where
Radney
had been. Five minutes later he blinked.
'Eh?
Somebody here?
Somebody speak?'

 
          
    Miss Weldon came from
the grocery with a basket of food.

 
          
   
'Like
to walk me home, Odd?'

 
          
    They walked along in a comfortable
silence, she careful not to walk too fast, because he set his feet down
carefully. The wind rustled in the cedars and in the elms and the maples all
along the way. Several times his lips parted and he glanced aside at her, and
then he shut his mouth tight and squinted ahead, as if looking at something a
million miles off.

 
          
    Finally, he said, 'Miss
Weldon?'

 
          
   
'Yes,
Odd?'

 
          
    'I been saving and
saving my money. I've got quite a handsome sum. I don't spend much for
anything, and — you'd be surprised,' he said, sincerely. 'I got about a
thousand dollars.
Maybe more.
Sometimes I count it and
get tired and I can't count no more. And — ' He seemed baffled and a little
angry with her, suddenly. '
Why
do you
like me, Miss Weldon?' he demanded.

 
          
    She looked a little
surprised,
then
smiled up at him. It was almost a
child look of liking she gave him.
'Because.
You're
quiet. Because. You're not loud and mean. Like the men at the barber's.
Because. I'm lonely, and you've been kind.
Because you're the
first one that ever looked at me.
The others don't even see me, not
once. They say I can't think. They say I'm senseless because I didn't finish
sixth grade. But I'm so lonely,
Odd
, and talking to
you means so much.'

 
          
    He held her small white
hand, tight.

 
          
    She moistened her lips.
'I wish we could do something about the way people talk about you. I don't want
to sound mean, but if you'd only stop telling them you're dead, Odd.'

 
          
    He stopped walking.
'Then you don't believe me, either,' he said, remotely.

 
          
    'You're ‘dead' for want
of a good woman's cooking, for loving, for living decent, Odd. That's what you
mean by ‘dead'; nothing else!'

 
          
    His grey eyes were deep
and lost. 'Is that what I mean?' He saw her eager, shiny face. 'Yes, that's
what I mean. You guessed it right. That's what I mean.'

 
          
    Their footsteps went
along together, drifting in the wind, like leaves floating, and the night got
darker and softer and the stars came out.

 
          
    Two boys and two girls
stood under a street lamp about
nine o'clock
that evening. Far away down the street someone walked along slowly, quietly,
alone.

 
          
    'There he is,' said one
of the boys. '
You
ask him, Tom.'

 
          
    Tom scowled uneasily.
The girls laughed at him. Tom said, 'Okay, but you come along.'

 
          
    Odd Martin walked
along, pausing now and then to examine a fallen leaf with the tip of his shoe,
turning and lifting it.

 
          
    'Mr. Odd?
Hey there, Mr. Odd!'

 
          
    'Eh?
Oh,
hello.'

 
          
    'Mr. Odd, we — ' Tom
swallowed and looked around for assistance. 'That is — we want you to — well —
we want you to come to our party!'

 
          
    A minute later, after
looking at Tom's clean, soap-smelling face and seeing the pretty blue jacket
his sixteen-year-old girl friend wore, Odd answered. 'Thank you. But I don't
know. I might forget to come.'

 
          
    'No, you wouldn't.
You'd remember, because this is
Hallowe'en
!'

 
          
    Tom's girl pulled his
arm. 'Let's go, Tom. Let's not have him.
Let's not.
Please. He won't do, Tom.'

 
          
    'Why won't he do?'

 
          
    'He's — he's not scary
enough.'

 
          
    Tom shook her off. 'Let
me
handle this.'

 
          
    The girl pleaded.
'Please, no. He's just a dirty old man. Bill can put candle-tallow on his
fingers and those horrid porcelain teeth in his mouth and the green chalk marks
under his eyes and scare the ducks out of us. We don't need
him!
' And she perked her rebellious head
at Odd.

 
          
    Odd Martin stood
watching the leaves under his shoe-tips. He heard the stars sitting in the sky
for ten minutes before he knew the four young folks were gone. A round dry
laugh came in his mouth like a pebble.
Children.
Hallowe'en
.
Not scary enough.
Bill'd
do better.
Candle-tallow and green chalk.
Just an old
man.
He tasted the laughter, found it both strange and bitter.

 
          
   
Morning
again.
Radney
Bellows flung his ball against
the store front, caught it,
flung
it again. Someone
hummed behind him. He turned.
'Hi, Mr. Odd!'

 
          
    Odd Martin, walking
with green paper dollars in his fingers, counted them. He stopped on one spot
and held himself in one position. His eyes were senseless.

 
          
    '
Radney
,'
he cried out.
'
Radney
!'
His
hands groped.

 
          
   
'Yes,
sir, Mr. Odd!'

 
          
    '
Radney
,
where was I going? Just now, where was I going? Going somewhere to buy
something for Miss Weldon! Here,
Radney
, help me!'

 
          
   
'Yes,
sir, Mr. Odd!'
Radney
ran and stood in his
shadow.

 
          
    A hand came down, money
in it, seventy dollars of money. '
Radney
, run buy a
dress for — Miss Weldon — ' The hand opened, the money fell, the hand remained
out, opening, making gasping, seeking moves, wrestling, wondering moves. There
was numbed terror and longing and fear in
Odd's
face.
'The place, I can't remember the place, oh God, help me remember. A
dress,
and a coat. For Miss Weldon, at — at
— '

 
          
    '
Krausmann's
Department Store?' said
Radney
.

 
          
    'No.'

 
          
   
'Fielder's?'

 
          
    'No!'

 
          
   
'Mr.
Leiberman's
?'

 
          
    'That's it!
Leiberman
! Here, here,
Radney
,
run down to
— '

 
          
   
'
Leiberman's
.'

 
          
   
' —
and get a new green dress for — Miss Weldon, and a coat. A new green dress with
yellow roses painted on it. You get them and bring them to me here. Oh,
Radney
, wait.'

 
          
   
'Yes,
sir?'

 
          
    '
Radney
— you think, maybe, I could clean up at your house?' asked Odd quietly. 'I need
a — a bath.'

 
          
    'Gee, I don't know, Mr.
Odd.
My
folks'r
funny.
I
don't know.'

 
          
    'That's all right,
Radney
. I understand. Run now!'

 
          
   
Radney
ran on the double. Odd Martin stood in the sunlight, humming a tune in his
mouth.
Radney
ran with the money past the barber
shop; poked his head inside. Mr. Simpson stopped snipping Mr. Trumbull's hair
and glared at him. 'Hey!' cried
Radney
. 'Odd Martin's
humming a tune!'

 
          
    'What tune?' asked
Simpson.

 
          
    'Goes like
this
,'
and
Radney
hummed it.

 
          
    'Yee God's
Amaughty
!' bellowed Simpson. 'So
that's
why Miss Weldon
ain't
here
manicurin
' this
mornin
'! That
there tune's the
Weddin
' March!'

 
          
   
Radney
rushed on. Pandemonium!

 
          
   
Shouting,
laughter, a squishing and pattering of water.
The back room of the
barber emporium steamed and sweated. Everybody had his turn. Mr. Simpson heaved
a bucket of hot water down over Odd Martin sitting in a galvanized tin tub. Mr.
Trumbull banged and whisked
Odd's
pale back with a
big beardy brush on a stick.
Old man
Gilpatrick
doused him with a half quart of cow-soap, that bubbled and frothed and stank
sweetly, and every once in a while
Shorty
Phillips
hit Odd with jigger of eau de cologne.
They all funned and ran around,
slipping, in the steam. 'Put some more on ‘
em
!' More
water.
'Scrub with that brush,
you!
'
The brush sizzled on
Odd's
spine. Mr. Simpson
gunked
in his throat, laughing:
'Always said marriage is what you needed, Odd!' Somebody else said,
'Congratulations!' and smacked Odd
right square
on his
shoulder blades with a can of ice-water. Odd Martin didn't even notice the
shock. 'You'll smell fine now!'

 
          
    Odd sat blowing bubbles
in one cupped hand. 'Thanks. Thanks so much for helping. Thanks for scouring
me. Thanks, I needed it.'

 
          
    Simpson put a hand over
his own smiling mouth. 'Nothing's too good for you,
ya
know that, Odd.'

 
          
    Someone whispered in
the steamy background,
'Imagine.
. . her. . . him. . .
and married. . . moron married. . . to an idiot. . . why. . .'

 
          
    'Shut up, back there!' Simpson
frowned.

 
          
   
Radney
ran in. 'Here's the green dress, Mr. Odd!'

 
          
    An hour later they
perched Odd in the barber chair. Someone had lent him a new pair of black
shoes. Mr. Trumbull polished them vigorously, winking at everybody. Mr. Simpson
snipped
Odd's
hair, took no money for it. 'No, Odd
keep
your money. This is all a
weddin
'
present to you.
Yes, sir.'
And he spat. Then he shook
rose-water on
Odd's
scalp. 'There, Moonlight and
roses!'

 
          
    Odd Martin looked
around. 'You won't tell
nobody
about this marriage,'
he asked, 'until tomorrow?
Me
and Miss Weldon sort of
want a marriage without the town poking fun. You see?'

 
          
    'Sure,
Odd
,' said Simpson, finishing the job. 'Mum's the word.
Where you
goin
' to live?
You
buyin
'
a farm?'

 
          
   
'Farm?'
Odd stepped from the chair.
Somebody'd
lent him a
nice new tan coat, and someone
else'd
pressed his
pants sharp for him. He looked elegant. 'Yes, I'm going over to buy the
property now. Have to pay extra, but it's worth it.
Extra.
Come on,
Radney
.' He paused at the door. 'I bought a
house out on the edge of town. I have to go make the payment on it now.'