Place Called Estherville Read Online Free PDF Page A

I wanted to say—don’t go to too much trouble for me. I don’t think I’m very hungry, anyway.”
    “We were going to have fried chicken tonight, Mr. George,” she told him right away. “It’ll be no trouble at all. I wanted to have a nice meal for you tonight, Mr. George.”
    “Well, that sounds all right,” he said, disconcerted by her reply. “You go right ahead and fry the chicken, Kathyanne. That really suits me fine. I always was partial to fried chicken. I believe I am getting a little hungry, after all. Fried chicken sounds mighty good.”
    She left the room and went to the rear of the house. George sat listening for a while, and then, unable to sit still any longer, jumped up and went to the hall and stood there trying to hear some sound of her in the kitchen. He knew that if Norma had been there he would never have dared to do what he was doing, and it gave him a pleasant unfamiliar sensation to know that he was alone in the house with Kathyanne. He was glad it was rainy and wet outside, because the dampness of the rapidly falling night seemed to make the privacy of the house more secure. He walked back into the living room and stood at the window watching the fading light of the misty afternoon as he thought how lonely he would be in the house without Kathyanne. An automobile came slowly into view, its front wheels splashing cautiously through the puddles on the street, and then it disappeared in the gloom. He was thinking that there went a man home to his wife and children, while here he was childless and married to a woman who would not even let him talk about the possibility of having children. He told himself that a man had a right to do some things in life, especially in his case. Convinced of the righteousness of his reasoning, and unable to wait any longer, George left the window and went straight to the kitchen.
    Kathyanne was standing at the table when he got to the doorway. She had not heard him coming and she was unaware that he was looking at her.
    While he stood there with his heart beating faster and faster, he remembered what somebody downtown had once said about the irresistible fascination of a Negress—at some stage in a man’s life, and why it was that a white man sometimes would seek a Negro girl’s favors in preference to accepting those of a white girl. He had not thought much about it at the time, but now he knew that he had a compelling desire for Kathyanne. Being a banker and a church-going Baptist, and having never before in his life approached a Negress, either light or dark in color, he wondered if he would be able to get up enough courage to speak to her in any way other than in an impersonal, businesslike manner. He had heard that it was easy for a white man to approach a Negro girl and talk as audaciously as he pleased, because usually she would be fearful of the consequences of not being agreeable, but at that moment he was far from being sure of his own ability. He was still trying to think of the best way to begin the conversation when Kathyanne turned and saw him standing in the doorway. She looked at him questioningly.
    “Oh, by the way, Kathyanne,” he said in confusion. The instant he uttered the words he realized he made a false start, and he racked his brains frantically for help. “I wanted to ask you something, Kathyanne.” He looked down at the floor to hide his embarrassment. He knew what he wanted to say, but he was so completely confounded that he did not have the slightest idea about how to go about saying it. “I—ah—I just happened to think of it.” He stared perplexedly at the kitchen stove.
    “What is it, Mr. George?” she asked pleasantly.
    When he glanced at her, he thought he detected for a moment an understanding smile, and he grinned at her hopefully. A moment later, however, there was a serious frown on her face. He wondered if she really knew exactly what he was so desperately scheming, and if that was her method of trying to elude