Nine Stories Read Online Free PDF

foot."
    "He
got runned over," said Mary Jane. "Isn't that tragic?"
    "I
saw Skipper with a bone," Ramona told Eloise.
    "What
happened to Jimmy?" Eloise said to her.
    "He
got runned over and killed. I saw Skipper with a bone, and he
wouldn't--"
    "Gimme
your forehead a second," Eloise said. She reached out and felt
Ramona's forehead. "You feel a little feverish. Go tell Grace
you're to have your dinner upstairs. Then you're to go straight to
bed. I'll be up later. Go on, now, please. Take these with you."
    Ramona
slowly giant-stepped her way out of the room.
    "Throw
me one," Eloise said to Mary Jane. "Let's have another
drink."
    Mary
Jane carried a cigarette over to Eloise. "Isn't that something?
About Jimmy? What an imagination!"
    "Mm.
You go get the drinks, huh? And bring the bottle . . . I don't wanna
go out there. The whole damn place smells like orange juice."

    At
five minutes past seven, the phone rang. Eloise got up from the
window seat and felt in the dark for her shoes. She couldn't find
them. In her stocking feet, she walked steadily, almost languidly,
toward the phone. The ringing didn't disturb Mary Jane, who was
asleep on the couch, face down.
    "Hello,"
Eloise said into the phone, without having turned the overhead light
on. "Look, I can't meet you. Mary Jane's here. She's got her car
parked right in front of me and she can't find the key. I can't get
out. We spent about twenty minutes looking for it in the
wuddayacallit--the snow and stuff. Maybe you can get a lift with Dick
and Mildred." She listened. "Oh. Well, that's tough, kid.
Why don't you boys form a platoon and march home? You can say that
but-hopehoop-hoop business. You can be the big shot." She
listened again. "I'm not funny," she said. "Really,
I'm not. It's just my face." She hung up.
    She
walked, less steadily, back into the living room. At the window seat,
she poured what was left in the bottle of Scotch into her glass. It
made about a finger. She drank it off, shivered, and sat down.
    When
Grace turned on the light in the dining room, Eloise jumped. Without
getting up, she called in to Grace, "You better not serve until
eight, Grace. Mr. Wengler'll be a little late."
    Grace
appeared in the dining-room light but didn't come forward. "The
lady go?" she said.
    "She's
resting."
    "Oh,"
said Grace. "Miz Wengler, I wondered if it'd be all right if my
husband passed the evenin' here. I got plentya room in my room, and
he don't have to be back in New York till tomorrow mornin', and it's
so bad out."
    "Your
husband? Where is he?"
    "Well,
right now," Grace said, "he's in the kitchen."
    "Well,
I'm afraid he can't spend the night here, Grace."
    "Ma'am?"
    "I
say I'm afraid he can't spend the night here. I'm not running a
hotel."
    Grace
stood for a moment, then said, "Yes, Ma'am," and went out
to the kitchen.
    Eloise
left the living room and climbed the stairs, which were lighted very
faintly by the overglow from the dining room. One of Ramona's
galoshes was lying on the landing. Eloise picked it up and threw it,
with as much force as possible, over the side of the banister; it
struck the foyer floor with a violent thump.
    She
snapped on the light in Ramona's room and held on to the switch, as
if for support. She stood still for a moment looking at Ramona. Then
she let go of the light switch and went quickly over to the bed.
"Ramona. Wake up. Wake up."
    Ramona
was sleeping far over on one side of the bed, her right buttock off
the edge. Her glasses were on a little Donald Duck night table,
folded neatly and laid stems down.
    "Ramona!"
    The
child awoke with a sharp intake of breath. Her eyes opened wide, but
she narrowed them almost at once. "Mommy?"
    "I
thought you told me Jimmy Jimmereeno was run over and killed."
    "What?"
    "You
heard me," Eloise said. "Why are you sleeping way over
here?"
    "Because,"
said Ramona.
    "Because
why? Ramona, I don't feel like--"
    "Because
I don't want to hurt Mickey."
    "Who?"
    "Mickey,"
said Ramona, rubbing her nose. "Mickey