Root of His Evil Read Online Free PDF Page B

well, but I want something.”
    He looked a little funny, but fumbled around and then handed over his gold tie clip. “It—it seems to be about the only thing I have.”
    “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid that won’t do.”
    I then held up my face in a very fresh way. He caught me in his arms and kissed me, and was very clumsy about it, but I kissed him back and held him there a long time. Then I drew back, and just before I skipped into the hotel I held out my hand and left the half dollar on his fingers.
    I had to walk up, and when I went in our suite I didn’t turn on the light and went carefully on tiptoe so as not to wake up Lula. But then I jumped because I could see her there, her eyes big and terrible-looking. I snapped on the light. She was sitting in her kimono facing the door and staring at me without saying a word. I spoke to her, and she began using dreadful language at me in a kind of whisper. “But, Lula, what on earth is the matter?”
    “You know what’s the matter!”
    “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
    “And you know what you been doing!”
    “I haven’t been doing anything.”
    “Oh, yes, you have.” And she launched into the most terrible imaginary account of all that had taken place between me and Mr. Holden, and why I didn’t go to Lindy’s, and a great deal more that I prefer to forget. I thought it best to say that Mr. Holden had only wanted to take his calls, and talk a few plans with me while he was waiting, and that I had only stayed with him a little while anyway. “And, besides, I don’t see what you have to do with it. I don’t try to come between you and any of your friends, and certainly you have plenty of them.” Which was the truth because Lula was not at all particular where men were concerned, and certainly went out with them a lot.
    But nothing I could say had any effect on her, and she kept it up and kept it up, and it was easy to see that she was afflicted by some kind of jealousy which I didn’t understand and still don’t quite understand. But I think she had some kind of motherly feeling about me because she was several years older than I was, and it upset her to think I had at last taken some step with a man, as she assumed I had. She kept raving until long after daylight, and we got a call from the desk that we would have to keep quiet as people were ringing to complain. I didn’t close my eyes until the sun was shining in the windows, and then when the nine-thirty call came I was almost dead from lack of sleep, but Lula wouldn’t get up at all. “But Lula, you’ve got to go to work. And it’ll look bad if somebody isn’t there, the very day after we formed the union.”
    “To hell with the union.”
    “But we’ve all got to do our part.”
    “What I care about the union? Go on, let me sleep. Go on down and see your friend Holden. Stay out all night with him, stay out every night with him, do anything you please—but let me alone.”
    I went to work, and Lula didn’t come, and I said she wasn’t feeling well, and when I got back that night the hotel said she had gone and hadn’t left any forwarding address. She didn’t show up for work again. I would like this episode kept in mind, for it was the thing that caused most of my trouble later on, and if it had not been for Lula perhaps none of the rest of it would have happened. Or perhaps it would, I don’t know. But Lula was certainly a large part of it.
    Grant came for lunch that day, and the next, but was prevented from seeing me at night because of the tactics of Mr. Holden who didn’t exactly take charge of us, or quite get out but kept having meetings at his hotel suite. He insisted that I attend every night, and Clara Gruber, and the girls from all the restaurants in the chain so that, as he said, we could discuss the minimum basic agreement we were going to demand from the company. Some wanted one thing and some wanted another, for example, seventy-five cents an hour