The Moslem Wife and Other Stories Read Online Free PDF

life.”
    “He likes it better than anything,” said Jeannie. “He liked the Army, but this was his favorite life after that.”
    “There,” said Mrs. Thompson. “You had every reason to be happy. What’d you do if he sent you off alone, now, like Mr. Sherman advised? You’d be alone and you’d have to work. Women don’t know when they’re well off. Here you’ve got a good, sensible husband working for you and you don’t appreciate it. You have to go and do a terrible thing.”
    “I only went for a walk,” said Jeannie. “That’s all I did.”
    “It’s possible,” said Mrs. Thompson, “but it’s a terrible thing. It’s about the worst thing that’s ever happened around here. I don’t know why you let it happen. A woman can always defend what’s precious, even if she’s attacked. I hope you remembered to think about bacteria.”
    “What d’you mean?”
    “I mean Javel, or something.”
    Jeannie looked uncomprehending and then shook her head.
    “I wonder what it must be like,” said Mrs. Thompson after a time, looking at the dark window. “I mean, think of Berlin and them Russians and all. Think of some disgusting fellowyou don’t know. Never said hello to, even. Some girls ask for it, though. You can’t always blame the man. The man loses his job, his wife if he’s got one, everything, all because of a silly girl.”
    Jeannie frowned, absently. She pressed her nails together, testing the polish. She licked her lips and said, “I was more beaten up, Mrs. Thompson. It wasn’t exactly what you think. It was only afterwards I thought to myself, Why, I was raped and everything.”
    Mrs. Thompson gasped, hearing the word from Jeannie. She said, “Have you got any marks?”
    “On my arms. That’s why I’m wearing this shirt. The first thing I did was change my clothes.”
    Mrs. Thompson thought this over, and went on to another thing: “Do you ever think about your mother?”
    “Sure.”
    “Do you pray? If this goes on at nineteen –”
    “I’m twenty.”
    “– what’ll you be by the time you’re thirty? You’ve already got a terrible, terrible memory to haunt you all your life.”
    “I already can’t remember it,” said Jeannie. “Afterwards I started walking back to camp, but I was walking the wrong way. I met Mr. Sherman. The back of his car was full of coffee, flour, all that. I guess he’d been picking up supplies. He said, ‘Well, get in.’ He didn’t ask any questions at first. I couldn’t talk anyway.”
    “Shock,” said Mrs. Thompson wisely.
    “You know, I’d have to see it happening to know what happened. All I remember is that first we were only talking …”
    “You and Mr. Sherman?”
    “No, no, before. When I was taking my walk.”
    “Don’t say who it was,” said Mrs. Thompson. “We don’t any of us need to know.”
    “We were just talking, and he got sore all of a sudden and grabbed my arm.”
    “Don’t say the name!” Mrs. Thompson cried.
    “Like when I was little, there was this Lana Turner movie. She had two twins. She was just there and then a nurse brought her in the two twins. I hadn’t been married or anything, and I didn’t know anything, and I used to think if I just kept on seeing the movie I’d know how she got the two twins, you know, and I went, oh, I must have seen it six times, the movie, but in the end I never knew any more. They just brought her the two twins.”
    Mrs. Thompson sat quite still, trying to make sense of this. “Taking advantage of a woman is a criminal offense,” she observed. “I heard Mr. Sherman say another thing, Jeannie. He said, ‘If your wife wants to press a charge and talk to some lawyer, let me tell you,’ he said, ‘you’ll never work again anywhere,’ he said. Vern said, ‘I know that, Mr. Sherman.’ And Mr. Sherman said, ‘Let me tell you, if any reporters or any investigators start coming around here, they’ll get their … they’ll never …’ Oh, he was mad. And Vern said,