Tell Me If the Lovers Are Losers Read Online Free PDF Page B

talked, as if she weighed every word before she spoke it. Ann yawned comfortably. The girl’s eyes squinted toward the chapel across the street, at the houses lining the road, and down to the small village that lay at the end of the college road; then she looked up toward the distant hills. Hildegarde rubbed her eyes with her large hands, with her strong fingers. “In the cities,” she said, “you can’t see the stars at night. Did you know that?”
    â€œI live in Philadelphia,” Ann said. “When we go to theshore in the summer, that’s one of the things that surprises me every year The stars.”
    â€œThe seashore?”
    â€œYes. Does your family call you Hildegarde?” to change the subject.
    â€œIt is my name.” The first car of the morning traveled down the road before the dormitory. Ann watched it. Hildegarde cocked an ear at it but did not move her eyes from Ann’s face. “Do you mean a nickname?”
    Ann nodded.
    â€œHildy.”
    Ann turned and smiled, “I like that.”
    Hildegarde—Hildy, did not smile back. That was a curious moment: Ann was accustomed to having her smile returned. Hildy’s face did not respond; her blue eyes were friendly still, her expression was open and eager, she simply did not return the smile, as if she could not see it.
    â€œIt is a good name for a cow,” Hildy said. Then she did smile, to show large, even teeth. “And so for me, as you see.” Ann took in her deep-breasted, strong-limbed body, in a cotton dress and heavy sweater. “As for all women.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œFor nursing our babies,” Hildy explained.
    â€œOh,” Ann said, unable to comprehend, not from ignorance but from something deeper, inexperience perhaps. “The babies I’ve met take bottles.”
    â€œNot mine.” Hildy’s voice was proud.
    â€œYou certainly plan ahead.”
    â€œIt isn’t so long,” Hildy said. “In older times, we would already be mothers, more than once, at our age.”
    â€œThat would be terrible,” Ann said.
    â€œYou don’t want babies?”
    â€œI don’t know. I haven’t thought about it. I’m too young to think about that yet. Why”—in a burst of honesty—“I haven’t even met a man I want to sleep with.”
    â€œAh well then,” Hildy said. “I can understand.”
    Ann did not ask the questions that were in her mind. Instead she remarked, “The Egyptians thought of the world as flat, and the sky above was represented as a cow with her”—what was the proper word to use here?—“udders hanging down over the earth.”
    There was a moment of silence broken by the low, mellow notes of the chapel bells, calling. Hildy spoke again. “Do you go to church this morning?”
    â€œNo,” Ann said.
    â€œYou can smell the trees in the air here, and the water.”
    â€œThe water? We’re miles from the ocean.”
    â€œNo, the moisture in the air. It is less so where I live, because there are so few trees I think.”
    â€œWill you go to church?”
    â€œYes. It is convenient here. At home, we must drive an hour. Often it is impossible to take the time to go.”
    â€œYou live in the country?”
    Hildy laughed, a sound as round and golden as the bells’ ringing. “Yes, yes. My father has a farm where he grows wheat and alfalfa. All around us are farms and ranches. Many many acres. And the reservation, which lies between our farm and the town. I live very much in the country.”
    â€œThen how did you come here? to Stanton I mean.”
    â€œOh, that was good fortune. I learned of Stanton at my school. There was a woman at my school, a friend, who taught us P.E., who told me I might like it and had recommended books to read. She was a good friend, so I took her advice. I didn’t know how I would like the mountains, but now I