Read Online Just an Ordinary Day: The Uncollected Stories of Shirley Jackson by Shirley Jackson - Free Book Online

put her in jail for dressing like Miss X? What would Mr. Lang say? She realized that she could never prove that she wore these clothes innocently, without criminal knowledge; as a matter of fact, she remembered that that morning, out in Woodside, while she was drinking her coffee, her mother had said, “You won’t be warm enough; the paper says it’s going to turn cold later. Wear your heavy coat at least.” How would Miss Morgan ever be able to explain to the police that the spring weather had caught her, made her take her new coat instead of her old one? How could she prove anything? Cold fear caught Miss Morgan, and she began to walk quickly, away from the poster. Now she realized that there were posters everywhere: on the lampposts, on the sides of the buildings, blown up huge against the wall of a high building. I’ve got to do something right away, she thought, no time to get back home and change.
    Trying to do so unobtrusively, she slid off her blue gloves and rolled them up and put them into her pocketbook. The pocketbook itself she put down behind the package. She buttoned her coat to hide the blue suit, and thought, I’ll go into a ladies’ room somewhere and take the feather out of my hat; if they know I tried to look different, they can’t blame me. Ahead of her on the sidewalk she saw a young man with a microphone; he was wearing a blue suit and she thought humorously, put a blue hat on him and he’d do, when she realized that he was trying to stop people and talk about Miss X.
    “Are you Miss X?” he was saying. “Sorry, lady, red topcoat, you know, and carrying a package. Are you Miss X?” People were walking wider to avoid him, and he called to ladies passing, and sometimes they looked at him curiously. Now and then, apparently, he would catch hold of someone and try to ask them questions, but usually the women passed him without looking, and the men glanced at him once, and then away. He’s going to catch me, Miss Morgan thought in panic, he’s going to speak to me . She could see him looking through the crowds while he said into the microphone, loudly enough so that anyone passing could hear, “Miss X is due to come down this street, folks, and it’s about time for Miss X to be passing by here. She’ll be along any minute, folks, and maybe you’ll be the one who walks up to her and says ‘Are you Miss X?’ and then you’ll get those beautiful awards, folks, the golden tea service, and the library of ten thousand of the world’s greatest books, folks, ten thousand books, and fifty thousand dollars. All you have to do is find Miss X, folks, just find the one girl who is walking around this city alone, and all you have to do is say ‘You are Miss X,’ folks, and the prizes are yours. And I’ll tell you, folks, Miss X is now wearing her coat buttoned up so you can’t see her blue suit, and she’s taken off her gloves. It’s getting colder, folks, let’s find Miss X before her hands get cold without her gloves.”
    He’s going to speak to me, Miss Morgan thought, and she slipped over to the curb and signaled wildly for a taxi. “Taxi,” she called, raising her voice shrilly, “taxi!” Over her own voice she could hear the man with the microphone saying, “Find Miss X, folks, find Miss X.” When no taxi would stop, Miss Morgan hurried to the other side of the sidewalk, next to the buildings, and tried to slip past the man at the microphone. He saw her, and his eyes jeered at her as she went by. “Find Miss X, folks,” he said, “find the poor girl before her hands get cold.”
    I must be crazy, Miss Morgan thought. I’m just getting self-conscious because I’m tired of walking. I’ll definitely get a taxi on the next corner.
    “Find Miss X,” the sound truck shouted from the curb next to her.
    “She’s gone past here now,” the man with the microphone said behind her, “she’s passed us now, folks, but she’s gone on down the street, find Miss X, folks.”
    “Blue