Psycho - Three Complete Novels Read Online Free PDF Page B

But I wouldn’t, because I know. Don’t you understand that? I know, and they don’t know. They don’t know how she took care of me all those years, when there was nobody else who cared, how she worked for me and suffered because of me, the sacrifices she made. If she’s a little old now, it’s my fault, I’m responsible. When she came to me that time, told me she wanted to get married again, I’m the one who stopped her. Yes, I stopped her, I was to blame for that! You don’t have to tell me about jealousy, possessiveness—I was worse than she could ever be. Ten times crazier, if that’s the word you want to use. They’d have locked me up in a minute if they knew the things I said and did, the way I carried on. Well, I got over it, finally. And she didn’t. But who are you to say a person should be put away? I think perhaps all of us go a little crazy at times.”
    He stopped, not because he was out of words but because he was out of breath. His face was very red, and the puckered lips were beginning to tremble.
    Mary stood up. “I’m—I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Really, I am. I want to apologize. I had no right to say what I did.”
    “Yes. I know. But it doesn’t matter. It’s just that I’m not used to talking about these things. You live alone like this and everything gets bottled up. Bottled up, or stuffed, like that squirrel up there.”
    His color lightened, and he attempted a smile. “Cute little fellow, isn’t he? I’ve often wished I had a live one around that I could tame for a pet.”
    Mary picked up her purse. “I’ll be running along now. It’s getting late.”
    “Please don’t go. I’m sorry I made such a fuss.”
    “It isn’t that. I’m really very tired.”
    “But I thought perhaps we could talk awhile. I was going to tell you about my hobbies. I’ve got a sort of workshop down in the basement—”
    “No, I’d like to, but I simply must get some rest.”
    “All right, then. I’ll walk down with you. I’ve got to close up the office. It doesn’t look as if there’ll be any more business tonight.”
    They went through the hall, and he helped her on with her coat. He was clumsy about it, and for a moment she felt rising irritation, then checked it as she realized the cause. He was afraid to touch her. That was it. The poor guy was actually afraid to get near a woman!
    He held the flashlight and she followed him out of the house and down the pathway to the gravel drive curving around the motel. The rain had stopped but the night was still dark and starless. As she turned the corner of the building she glanced back over her shoulder at the house. The upstairs light still burned, and Mary wondered if the old woman was awake, if she had listened to their conversation, heard the final outburst.
    Mr. Bates halted before her door, waited until she inserted the key in the lock and opened it.
    “Good night,” he said. “Sleep well.”
    “Thank you. And thanks for the hospitality.”
    He opened his mouth, then turned away. For the third time that evening she saw him redden.
    Then she closed her door and locked it. She could hear his retreating footsteps, then the telltale click as he entered the office next door.
    She didn’t hear him when he left; her attention had been immediately occupied by the duty of unpacking. She got out her pajamas, her slippers, a jar of cold cream, a toothbrush and toothpaste. Then she rummaged through the big suitcase looking for the dress she planned to wear tomorrow, when she saw Sam. That would have to be put up now, to hang out the wrinkles. Nothing must be out of place tomorrow.
    Nothing must be out of place—
    All at once she didn’t feel seven feet tall any more. Or was the change really so sudden? Hadn’t it started when Mr. Bates got so hysterical, back there at the house? What was it he had said which really deflated her?
    I think perhaps all of us go a little crazy at times.
    Mary Crane cleared a place for herself on the bed