Harriet the Spy (6 page)

He was rather fat but in a round, hard, not unpleasant way. His head was completely round. His teeth were very white under the trim mustache. His skin was darkish, and the features of his face formed a pleasant, round, cheerful image. He wore, naturally, a delivery boy’s coat, but underneath he wore nice-looking gray flannel pants, and his brown shoes were shined within an inch of their lives.

He took Ole Golly’s arm and they walked down the steps together, still smiling and talking and never taking their eyes off each other.

When they got down to the bottom of the steps the boy friend seemed to apologize for something, smiling awkwardly, then quick as a flash he took off his delivery jacket, reached into his cart, pulled out a gray flannel jacket, and put that on. He wore a bright blue tie and altogether Harriet thought he looked quite nice. He and Ole Golly smiled at each other, then started walking toward the park, leaving the delivery cart where it was in front of the house.

Harriet squatted down to hide herself more, and through a bush, watched their progress into the park. They were evidently going for a walk beside the river. They chose a path near Harriet, so she waited until they were a little ahead of her, then ran along beside them. She discovered that if they stayed on this path she could run along, completely hidden by the thick foliage, and, miraculously, hear every word they said.

“Mr. Waldenstein, have you ever noticed”—Ole Golly sounded terribly proper and enunciated everything quite clearly—“have you ever noticed how tidy the grass is in this park?”

“Yes, Miss Golly. This park is kept quite well. A lot better than that terrible Washington Square with all those creatures lying all over the grass. Make a pretty mess they do.” Mr. Waldenstein had a pleasant speaking voice, although there was a certain amount of rasp and gravel running along the bottom of it.

“Yes. I always find it such a pleasure to walk along the river this way. I particularly like to watch the tugboats.” Ole Golly didn’t sound one bit like herself. Her voice seemed much higher, as though she were floating a bit off the ground.

“A walk in the park is always a pleasure for me when I am accompanied by an attractive young woman like yourself, Miss Golly.” Mr. Waldenstein leaned a little toward Ole Golly as he said this.

Harriet watched in horror as Ole Golly blushed a deep red that started from deep inside her scarf and rushed like a spreading river to her hairline. Well, thought Harriet, how about that!

“Oh, Mr. Waldenstein,” Ole Golly managed to breathe, then tried to change the subject by saying, “Will you look over there at that boat? That
is
a large one for the East River.”

“No offense was meant, Miss Golly.” Mr. Waldenstein looked worried. “I only want you to know how much I enjoy these Thursdays we have been spending together.”

The crimson zoomed up Ole Golly’s face again, making her look exactly like a hawk-nosed Indian.

Big Chief Golly, Harriet thought, what is happening to you?

And something was definitely happening. Ole Golly was
not
Ole Golly today. Instead of being strong, tough, and totally in control, she looked as though she might faint. Harriet pondered on this as she watched them turn onto the esplanade which runs along the river. There was no way to follow them now without being observed, so she decided to run back in the grass and see where they came out. She could keep them in view even if she couldn’t hear them. Before going she scribbled in her notebook:

LIFE IS A GREAT MYSTERY. IS EVERYBODY A DIFFERENT PERSON WHEN THEY ARE WITH SOMEBODY ELSE? OLE GOLLY HAS NEVER BEEN THIS WAY. I WONDER IF PEOPLE ACT LIKE THIS WHEN THEY GET MARRIED. HOW COULD SHE GET MARRIED? WOULD MR. WALDENSTEIN COME TO LIVE WITH US THEN? THEY COULD PUT THEIR CHILD IN MY ROOM IF THEY WANTED TO. I WOULDN’T MIND. I DON’T THINK. UNLESS IT WAS A VERY NOISY CHILD WHO TRIED TO READ MY NOTEBOOKS. THEN I WOULD SMASH IT.

Mr. Waldenstein and Ole Golly were so far away they were beginning to look small, so Harriet closed her notebook and ran up and down the hills and across the paths until she had them quite close again. They were turning off the walk by the river onto one of the smaller paths, the one beside the mayor’s house. Harriet crept along beside them. Now she could hear them again.

“Would it be your pleasure to attend a movie this evening, Miss Golly?”

“Yes, indeed, I think that would be a fine idea,” said Ole Golly.

Harriet’s mouth dropped open. Ole Golly
never
went to the movies, and here she was smiling and looking like it was a treat. Well! Harriet grabbed for her notebook.

IF SHE FEELS THAT WAY SHE CAN JOLLY WELL TAKE ME TO THE MOVIES SOMETIME.

“Is there something interesting playing?” Ole Golly’s voice was getting higher and higher, funnier and funnier.

“I think that there is a very nice picture playing over on Eighty-sixth Street, one that you will like. But if you do not like that one when we get there, then there are three other movie houses there and you can take your pick. I had thought that we could have a nice dinner at the Bauhaus there beforehand if you would like that. If not, there are lots of other restaurants.” Mr. Waldenstein said everything in a very gentle way, looking constantly at Ole Golly to see if she liked what he was saying.

“Oh, I think that would be just lovely. It sounds like a very pleasant evening.”

WELL, THAT TEARS IT. I HAPPEN TO KNOW THAT OLE GOLLY JUST CAN’T STAND GERMAN FOOD. SHE SAID TO ME ONCE THAT IF SHE SAW ONE MORE WURST ON HER PLATE SHE WOULD THROW IT ACROSS THE ROOM. THAT WAS WHEN WE HAD THAT GERMAN COOK BEFORE WE GOT THIS ONE. WHEN OLE GOLLY GETS HOME TONIGHT I BET SHE WILL LAUGH WITH ME AND SAY WHAT A TERRIBLE EVENING SHE HAD WITH THIS SILLY LITTLE FAT MAN.

They had reached East End Avenue again, so Harriet couldn’t hear them anymore. She stood behind the tree and watched them walk toward the house. Then a
really
funny thing happened. Mr. Waldenstein got on his bicycle. Harriet thought for a minute that he was going off for a while to deliver things, but then her hair stood on end as she watched Ole Golly, with great agility and even more aplomb, hop onto the delivery cart. She sat, very straight and very dignified, while Mr. Waldenstein, puffing a bit, got the bike going down the hill. Harriet watched open-mouthed as they disappeared around the corner into Eighty-sixth Street. She was so astonished that she sat right down on the ground and wrote:

WELL, I NEVER. I’VE SEEN EVERYTHING. I BET OLE GOLLY IS EMBARRASSED TO DEATH. SHE IS REALLY GOING TO LAUGH WHEN SHE GETS HOME TONIGHT.

Harriet went back to the house. She did a little bit of homework, read awhile, then started to play Town by herself. She sat with her father and mother for a while when they got in, then went upstairs and sat with her mother while she got dressed to go out to dinner. Everything bored Harriet. She felt tired and dull in the head as she sat watching her mother. She decided to ask her mother questions to entertain herself.

“How did you meet Daddy?”

“On the boat going to Europe,” answered Mrs. Welsch, struggling with her hair.

“I KNOW that.”

“Well, why did you ask then?”

“I mean
how
did you meet him. How was it?”

“What do you mean? You mean how exactly? I was coming out of the dining room and I bumped into him. It was a very stormy crossing and he threw up.”

“You mean he threw up all over you?”

“Not exactly all over me, just splashed my feet a bit.” Mrs. Welsch laughed. “It wasn’t terribly pleasant. He turned beet-red, apologized profusely, then passed out. He looked perfectly horrified the next time he saw me.”

“Do people always turn red when they meet who they’re going to marry?”

“Well, no, dear, I doubt it. You see he’d thrown
up
, that’s why.”

“I know… but I mean…”

“Well, what?”

“I don’t know,” said Harriet glumly. She couldn’t figure out what to ask. “I mean… what does it
feel
like?”

“To have someone throw up on your feet? Not nice I can tell you.” Mrs. Welsch didn’t seem to be listening very hard.

“NO,” said Harriet in an exasperated way, “I mean, what does it feel like when you meet the person you’re going to marry?”

“Well, dear, you don’t
know
it—
then
, I mean.…”

“Well… well, when do you know it?”

Mrs. Welsch turned around slowly and looked at Harriet. Her eyes were warm and she had a curious little smile on her face. “Are you considering it?”

“What?”

“Marriage.”

“ME?” Harriet jumped up. Really, she thought, adults are getting sillier every year. “I’m only eleven.”

“I just wondered,” said Mrs. Welsch in a bemused voice. “You seem so worried.”

“I’m not
worried
.” Harriet squirmed around. What am I? she wondered. Just curious. “I just wondered what it felt like,” she said, sulking slightly.

“Well”—Mrs. Welsch stopped putting on make-up and looked at her reflection with distant eyes—“I imagine it’s different for everyone. I felt… I felt your father was the best-looking man I’d ever seen. The fact that he threw up made me want to laugh inside instead of being absolutely furious, which is what I would have felt with anyone else. And the next night when he wasn’t in the dining room, I wondered if he was feeling dreadful and I toyed with the idea of finding out.” She went back to her make-up in a businesslike way. “I haven’t the faintest idea what anyone else feels.”

My mother, thought Harriet, doesn’t think about other people much. “If Sport threw up on me, I’d bash his teeth in,” Harriet said cheerfully.

“Oh, no, you wouldn’t.”

“Oh, yes, I would.”

“Oh, no, you wouldn’t,” said Mrs. Welsch playfully and turned around and tickled Harriet’s stomach. Harriet giggled and fell off the chair. Mrs. Welsch got up and went to the closet. As she was putting her dress over her head she said through the cloth, “We’ve got a long way to go before you start thinking about things like marriage”—her head appeared—“thank God,” she said as she pulled the dress down.

“I may not even
get
married,” said Harriet dreamily from the floor where she lay stretched out, arms and legs wide. “I may go to Europe and meet a lot of generals.”

“What?” asked Mrs. Welsch absent-mindedly.

“Oh, nothing,” said Harriet.

Mr. Welsch appeared in the doorway. “Good Lord, you’re not half ready,” he said in a very irritated way, twitching his cuffs.

Harriet looked at her father in his tuxedo. Was he handsome? She thought to herself that she had never seen him throw up, so she didn’t know what he would look like doing that, but maybe everybody looked the same doing that. She had seen Janie throw up once when they went to see a movie about a gorilla and Janie ate four candy bars and three bags of popcorn. It was awful.

“Why don’t you go and get the car out, darling? I’ll be right there.” Mrs. Welsch was flying around the room looking for things.

Mr. Welsch was in a terrible grump. “All right,” he said peevishly. Then in a rather stiff, formal way he said, “Good night, Harriet. Go to bed on time. Be a good girl. Don’t make any trouble for Miss Golly.”

“She’s not here.” Harriet sat up.

“No, dear, the cook; it’s Thursday. Now, go get the car.”

“Oh, ALL RIGHT,” said Mr. Welsch and stormed out the door.

“Well,” said Harriet. She could already feel the empty house descending around her ears.

She dragged her feet around, making patterns in the rug until Mrs. Welsch was ready and going past her through the door, leaving a trail of perfume behind her. She followed her mother downstairs and at the front door suffered herself to be kissed.

“Now be a good girl—”

“I know, and don’t make any trouble and go to bed and don’t read under the covers,” Harriet said nastily.

Mrs. Welsch laughed, kissed Harriet again, and pinched her cheek. “That’s right, dear, and have a nice evening.” And she sailed out the door.

That’s a new one, thought Harriet. She got her book and clumped down the steps to the kitchen. The cook sat reading the
Journal
. “Oh, boy,” said Harriet and sat down at the table.

“Ready for your dinner?” murmured the cook.

“YES!” Harriet shouted as loud as she could. The silence upstairs was deafening.

Harriet tried to stay awake until Ole Golly came in, but she couldn’t. So the next afternoon, after school, she went to Ole Golly’s room even before she went to the kitchen. Harriet had to be dreadfully curious to break routine in this way. She cornered Ole Golly in as casual a way as possible, standing in the doorway to block Ole Golly’s descent to her tea.

“Well, what’s this? Have you had your cake so soon?” Ole Golly smiled at her.

“No. Not yet. Uh, did you have a good time?” Harriet tried to sound indifferent.

“What? Oh, yesterday you mean? Yes, a
lovely
time.” Ole Golly smiled quite broadly.

“You DID?” Harriet was astonished.

“Well, of course, why not? I went to a fascinating movie and had a very good dinner beforehand…” Ole Golly started down the steps.

“What did you
eat?
” asked Harriet, leaning over the banister.

“A new kind of wurst I’d never had before, quite good, and good potatoes. Yes, it was a lovely evening.” And Ole Golly disappeared around the bend.

Harriet stood there a minute thinking. Then she went slowly to her room. She felt the urgent need to make a few notes before she went downstairs.

THERE IS MORE TO THIS THING OF LOVE THAN MEETS THE EYE. I AM GOING TO HAVE TO THINK ABOUT THIS A GREAT DEAL BUT I DON’T THINK IT WILL GET ME ANYWHERE. I THINK MAYBE THEY’RE ALL RIGHT WHEN THEY SAY THERE ARE SOME THINGS I WON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT UNTIL I’M OLDER. BUT IF IT MAKES YOU LIKE TO EAT ALL KINDS OF WURST I’M NOT SURE I’M GOING TO LIKE THIS.

She slammed her notebook and went downstairs.

That night, while she and Ole Golly were watching a movie on television and playing checkers at the same time, Harriet, thinking of Harrison Withers, said to Ole Golly, “If people are alone all the time, I feel sorry for them.”