The Jealous Kind Read Online Free PDF Page B

Second Fredericksburg, Cross Keys, Malvern Hill, Chantilly, Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, and a prison camp at Johnson’s Island, Ohio. My father’s tragedy was one shared by almost all his family. Their patriarch had been a generous and honest man and, as a result, died a pauper at the onset of World War II. His family believed their genteel, privileged world had died with him, and they began to drink and substitute the past for the present and let their own lives slip away.
    I walked into my father’s office and sat down. He wrote with a fat, obsolete fountain pen that leaked ink. A cigarette burned on the cusp of his ashtray; a thermos of coffee rested on his desk; the window was cracked to let the attic fan draw the evening air from outside. The sky was filled with crimson and purple and black clouds that resembled plumes from an industrial furnace. I could probably say a lot about my father’s writing, but for me the most memorable words he ever wrote were contained in a single sentence on the first page of his manuscript: “Never in human history have so many fine men fought so nobly in defense of such an ignominious cause.”
    â€œHow you doing there, pal?” he said.
    It was a rare moment. He was happy and did not smell of alcohol. I sat next to him.
    â€œI’ve got a problem,” I said.
    â€œIt can’t be that bad, can it?”
    â€œI got into it with some guys from the Heights.”
    â€œTry not to say ‘guys,’ Aaron.”
    â€œThese aren’t kids, Daddy.”
    â€œThey insulted you?”
    â€œThey came to school today. Mr. Krauser made me walk with him to their car. He said he was going to show me how to deal with them.”
    â€œMaybe he was acting like a good fellow. I had a teacher like that at St. Peter’s when I was a boy. All the boys looked up to him. I’ve always had fond memories of him.”
    â€œMr. Krauser shamed me.”
    â€œI don’t understand.”
    â€œHe said I snitched on them. One guy said I should wear a dress.”
    â€œYour teacher was probably making them accountable.”
    â€œMr. Krauser is out to get Saber. He went through me to do it.”
    â€œIt’s good to stick up for your chum. But Saber can take care of himself. I bet you’ll never see those fellows again.”
    â€œThe trouble started over a girl from the Heights. Saturday night I got involved in an argument between her and her boyfriend. He lives in River Oaks. I think he’s a bad guy.”
    â€œDon’t say—”
    â€œI know. But he’s a bad guy, Daddy. I don’t know what to do.”
    â€œMaybe we should all have a talk. I mean if they come back. If there’s going to be a fight, there’s going to be a fight.”
    â€œThis isn’t about a fight. This guy Loren Nichols shot a man with an air pistol.”
    â€œA BB gun?”
    â€œThe kind that shoots steel darts. It hits like a twenty-two.”
    â€œThis sounds like one of Saber’s stories. Do you want me to talk with Mr. Krauser?”
    â€œMr. Krauser is a liar.Why would he tell you the truth if he lied about me to a bunch of greaseballs?”
    â€œDon’t use language like that. You want to go for a Grapette?”
    My efforts were useless. I folded my hands between my legs and hung my head. “No, sir.”
    â€œLet’s sleep on this. Tomorrow everything will look different. You’ll see.”
    He adjusted his rimless glasses and looked down at the page he had been working on, his attention already far away, perhaps on a hillside in Virginia where grapeshot and canister hummed louder than bees through the warm air, while a drummer boy about to die stood mute and powerless amid the horror taking place around him.
    I went into the kitchen, where my mother was pulling a pie from the oven. She was an attractive woman and often caught the eye of other men, in whom she had no interest, even as