Calamity Town Read Online Free PDF

palsy with my kind, you’ll hear a lot about little Lola eventually, and…well…I don’t give a damn what Wrightsville thinks of me, but an alien…that’s different. Good grief! I still have vanity!’
    â€˜I haven’t heard anything about you from your family.’
    â€˜No?’ He heard her laugh again. ‘I feel like baring my bosom tonight. You’ll hear I drink. True. I learned it from—I learned it. You’ll hear I’m seen in all the awful places in town, and what’s worse, alone . Imagine! I’m supposed to be “fast.” The truth is I do what I damned please, and all these vultures of women on the Hill, they’ve been tearing at me with their claws!’
    She stopped. ‘How about a drink?’ asked Ellery.
    â€˜Not now. I don’t blame my mother. She’s narrow, like the rest of them; her social position is her whole life. But if I’d play according to her rules, she’d still take me back—she’s got spunk, I’ll give her that. Well, I won’t play. It’s my life, and to hell with rules! Understand?’ She laughed once more. ‘Say you understand. Go on. Say it.’
    â€˜I understand,’ Ellery said.
    She was quiet. Then she said: ‘I’m boring you. Goodnight.’
    â€˜I want to see you again.’
    â€˜No. Goodbye.’
    Her shoes scraped the invisible porch floor. Ellery turned on the light again. She put up her arm to hide her eyes.
    â€˜Well, then, I’ll see you home, Miss Wright.’
    â€˜Thanks no. I’m—’ She stopped.
    Patricia Wright’s gay voice called from the darkness below: ‘Ellery? May I come up and have a goodnight cigarette with you? Carter’s gone home and I saw your porch light—’ Pat stopped, too. The two sisters stared at each other.
    â€˜ Hello , Lola!’ cried Pat. She vaulted up the steps and kissed Lola vigorously. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?’
    Mr Queen put the light out again very quickly. But he had time to see how Lola clung—briefly—to her taller, younger sister.
    â€˜Lay off, Snuffles,’ he heard Lola say in a muffled voice. ‘You’re mussing my hair-do.’
    â€˜And that’s a fact,’ said Pat cheerfully. ‘You know, Ellery, this sister of mine is the most attractive girl ever to come out of Wrightsville. And she insists on hiding her light under frumpy old slacks!’
    â€˜You’re a darling, Pats,’ said Lola, ‘but don’t try so hard. It’s no dice, and you know it.’
    Pat said miserably: ‘Lo dear…why don’t you come back?’
    â€˜I think,’ remarked Mr Queen, ‘I’ll walk down to that hydrangea bush and see how it’s making out.’
    â€˜Don’t,’ said Lola. ‘I’m going now. I really am.’
    â€˜Lola!’ Pat’s voice was damp.
    â€˜You see, Mr Smith? Snuffles. She was always snuffling as a brat. Pat, now stop it. This is old hat for us two.’
    â€˜I’m all right.’ Pat blew her nose in the darkness. ‘I’ll drive home with you.’
    â€˜No, Patsy. Night, Mr Smith.’
    â€˜Goodnight.’
    â€˜And I’ve changed my mind. Come over and have a drink with me any time you like. Night, Snuffy!’ And Lola was gone.
    When the last rattle of Lola’s 1932 coupé died, Pat said in a murmur: ‘Lo lives in a two-room hole down in Low Village, near the Machine Shop. She wouldn’t take alimony from her husband, who was a rat till the day he died, and she won’t accept money from Pop. Those clothes she wears—six years old. Part of her trousseau. She supports herself by giving piano lessons to Low Village hopefuls at fifty cents a throw.’
    â€˜Pat, why does she stay in Wrightsville? What brought her back after her divorce?’
    â€˜Don’t salmon or elephants or something come