The Expendable Man Read Online Free PDF Page B

bath and some clean clothes would help.”
    â€œI know,” she said unhappily. For once she wasn’t putting on an act. And he realized what he should have before, she didn’t have any clean clothes with her. There wasn’t room for them in the small bag.
    â€œMaybe you can borrow from your aunt,” he suggested.
    â€œSure I can. She has lots of clothes, beautiful clothes.” She was lying again. “She doesn’t care if I wear her clothes. We’re the same size. She’s real young for an aunt. She’ll fix my hair too. She’s a beauty operator, she has her own shop.”
    Poor kid. Poor, poor kid. He was a little ashamed of the ire he’d had toward her. But not enough to forget the lies and the perhaps lies. “You haven’t given me her address.”
    â€œI don’t have a pencil.”
    â€œI have a pen.” He removed the ball-point from his jacket pocket. By now it was too hot for the jacket but he wouldn’t slow the car to take it off.
    â€œI don’t have any paper.”
    He had the letter from his mother which had come yesterday. He slid it out and handed her the envelope. “Write it on the back.”
    Slowly she inscribed an address.
    â€œPut her name on it. And phone number.”
    â€œI don’t have her phone number.” Reluctantly she wrote a name. He let his eyes touch it when she returned the envelope. Mayble Carney. She couldn’t have invented Mayble. No one could.
    â€œMy pen?”
    She pushed it at him.
    â€œYou tell her about the loan right away. Don’t make up a big story, just tell her the truth.”
    She said huffily, “You’re sure worried about your money. You’d think it was a hundred dollars.”
    â€œDo you know what an intern’s pay is?”
    â€œNo, I don’t.”
    â€œIt isn’t enough to cover bus tickets for strangers,” he said.
    They reached the city limits of Glendale. Oleanders were a magic wall of rose and white hiding the railroad tracks. Traffic was heavy from now on in; he didn’t make conversation. She too was silent, shimmering with anticipation. She kept her head turned to the window, looking out at the buildings and streets. He followed Van Buren into the heart of town.
    He said, “Keep your eyes open for the bus station. It’s on the left. We’ll probably have to go around the block to get to it.” Even if a left turn were permitted, the unending line of cars would prohibit it.
    They saw the sign at the same time. She cried, “There it is. Just let me off at the corner.” Her hand was on the door.
    â€œNo, thanks. I’m taking you to the entrance. And you go right inside and telephone your aunt that you’ve arrived.” He’d do that much to get her settled before she looked for more kids to kick around with.
    The light changed as he pulled up to the corner and he turned right before she could get out. He circled the block to First Street, drove across Van Buren, and double-parked.
    She was out of the car the moment it stopped. She didn’t say good-bye or thank you and she didn’t look back. But he saw her walk into the station before he rolled away.
    The bad dream was over. He was rid of her. He might or might not get in touch with the alleged aunt. She might or might not be told of the loan. He’d rather write off the ten dollars as enforced charity than take a chance on having Iris move into his life again.

2
    HIS GRANDPARENTS’ HOME was a large old frame house on Jefferson, freshly painted white each spring. Pink and red roses were climbing the trellises against the porch. The oleanders were a glory of white in the dark glossy green of the tall hedge. He’d spent so many summers here as a child, it was like coming home. He’d never noticed the heat then.
    He ran up the steps, across the broad porch, and pushed open the screen door. The air conditioning was welcome.