Ceremony of the Innocent Read Online Free PDF Page A

May.”
    It could be worse, thought May. At least seventy-five cents a week would be of considerable assistance, and then Ellen would have a meal here, and that would be a saving. She shrugged. “Anyway, think about it and ask Mrs. Porter, though I’m saying it’s slave wages.” She drew a slow long breath. “And before I get to the work I can tell you now: I want an extra fifty cents for today, and that’s for sure.”
    “You’re crazy,” Mrs. Jardin said, and giggled and shook her head. “Better hurry with them strawberries. They got to soak in sugar seeing they are the first of the season and still a mite sour.”
    May, in spite of her usual brusqueness, was secretly yielding. But all at once she felt a sharp thrust of despair. Her moving hands slowed, stopped. She seldom felt despair, but now it was like a grief in her, sickening, drying her mouth. She said, “I got to have that extra fifty cents. You do the marketing around here. You know how expensive things are these days, prices always going up and up. Four cents, now, for a three-cent loaf of bread, and even that’s smaller.”
    “You want a dollar and a half for not even a full day’s work?” shrieked Mrs. Jardin, aghast. “You really mean that? You ain’t just crazy?”
    “No. I’m not crazy. I won’t get out of here until maybe eleven tonight, and that’s nine hours’ work, and on my feet every minute, and serving and cleaning and washing the dishes, while you go upstairs to bed at eight, nine. I’m human, too, Mrs. Jardin.”
    Mrs. Jardin’s florid face became cunning and was no longer jocular. That’s what you think—being human, she thought. You and that girl of yours! You ain’t got any decency, either of you. Human! She shook a ladle at May. “A dollar’s a dollar, and that’s what you agreed, and it’s a lot of money. Men work twelve hours a day for that, in the sawmills down at the river, and on the barges. A dollar’s a dollar.”
    May did not often feel courageous, but the despair in her had heightened as she thought of Ellen. She lifted her hands from the bowl of strawberries and deliberately wiped her hands on the apron. “All right, then. I’ll go home now—unless you go out there to Mrs. Porter and tell her I want the extra fifty cents. Then what’ll you do? They got company and all, and you can’t do it all yourself. Or maybe Mrs. Porter’ll come in and help you out. She’s big and fat enough.”
    “Mind your tongue, May Watson! You got a bad tongue on you, impudent and such! Talking like that about a lady like Mrs. Porter. No respect for your betters!” But Mrs. Jardin was full of consternation at the thought of sending May away and being left to do all the work herself, and the folks from Scranton being so hoity-toity and wanting everything done right, and Mrs. Porter with her eyes that saw everything.
    “Fifty cents extra,” said May Watson, and she could smell the drunken scent of approaching victory. “Well, why you standing there?”
    Mrs. Jardin was seized with a savage desire to beat May on the head with the ladle she held in her hand. “Outrage!” she cried. “Well, I’ll ask Mrs. Porter, and you better think of putting on that hat of yours and those damned gloves you walk around in!”
    May reached for her hat and held it in her hand and looked inflexibly at her old enemy. “I’m waiting,” she said.
    Mrs. Jardin threw the ladle into the sink and stamped furiously out of the kitchen. May had begun to tremble. Perhaps she had gone too far. A dollar for nine hours’ work was generous. Her tired eyes wandered, helplessly. She saw that a pie had been cut and a large wedge taken from it. She moved as fast as a cockroach, cut a thin new piece and dropped it into the pocket of her apron. Her trembling increased, but so did her despair. Ellen had only one pair of shoes, and they broken and mended too many times, and getting smaller. May shut her eyes and squeezed the lids together tightly, and felt