They Shoot Horses, Don't They? Read Online Free PDF Page B

Through the balls of my feet I could feel the ocean surging against the pilings below.
    ‘Come on,’ she whispered, pulling at my ankle. Suddenly I knew what she meant. There is no new experience in life. Something may happen to you that you think has never happened before , that you think is brand new , but you are mistaken. You have only to see or smell or hear or feel a certain something and you will discover that this experience you thought was new has happened before. When she pulled at my ankle , trying to get me beneath the platform , I remembered the time when another girl had done exactly the same thing. Only it was a front porch instead of a platform. I was thirteen or fourteen years old then and the girl was about the same age. Her name was Mabel and she lived next door. After school we used to play under the front porch , imagining it was a cave and we were robbers and prisoners. Later we used it to play papa and mama , imagining it was a house. But on this day I am speaking of I stood by the front porch , not thinking of Mabel or games at all , and I felt something pulling at my ankle. I looked down and there was Mabel. ‘Come on,’ she said.
    It was very dark under the platform and while I crouched there on my hands and knees trying to see through the gloom No. 7 suddenly grabbed me around the neck.
    ‘Hurry …’ she whispered.
    ‘What’s coming off here?’ growled a man’s voice. He was so close I could feel his breath against my hair. ‘Who is that?’
    I recognized the voice now. It was Rocky Gravo’s. My stomach turned over. No. 7 let go my neck and slid out from under the platform. I was afraid if I tried to apologize or say anything Rocky would recognize my voice, so I quickly rolled under the curtain. No. 7 was already on her feet moving away, looking back over her shoulder at me. Her face was white as chalk. Neither of us spoke. We strolled onto the dance floor, trying to look very innocent. The nurse was collecting our dirty coffee cups in a basket. Then I discovered my hands and clothes were filthy with dust. I had a couple of minutes before the whistle blew, so I hurried into the dressing room to clean up. When that was done I felt better.
    ‘What a close shave that was,’ I told myself. ‘I’ll never do anything like that again.’
    I got back on the floor as the whistle blew and the orchestra began to play. This was not a very good orchestra; but it was better than the radio because you didn’t have to listen to a lot of announcers begging and pleading with you to buy something. Since I’ve been in this marathon I’ve had enough radio to last me the rest of my life. There is a radio going now , in a building across the street from the court room. It is very distinct. ‘ Do you need money ? …Are you in trouble ? …’
    ‘Where’ve you been?’ Gloria asked, taking my arm.
    ‘I haven’t been anywhere,’ I said. ‘Feel like dancing?’
    ‘All right,’ she said. We danced once around the floor and then she stopped, ‘That’s too much like work,’ she said.
    As I took my hand from around her waist I noticed my fingers were dirty again. ‘That’s funny,’ I thought. ‘I just washed them a minute ago.’
    ‘Turn around,’ I said to Gloria.
    ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.
    ‘Turn around,’ I said.
    She hesitated, biting her lip, so I stepped behind her. She was wearing a white woollen skirt and a thin white woollen sweater. Her back was covered with thick dust and I knew where it had come from.
    ‘What’s the matter?’ she said.
    ‘Stand still,’ I said. I brushed her off with my hand, knocking most of the dust and lint loose from her sweater and skirt. She did not speak for a moment or two. ‘I must have got that when I was wrestling in the dressing room with Lillian,’ she said finally.
    ‘I’m not as big a sap as she thinks I am,’ I told myself. ‘I guess you did,’ I said.
    Rollo Peters fell in with us as we walked around the floor.
    ‘Who