Read Online Just an Ordinary Day: The Uncollected Stories of Shirley Jackson by Shirley Jackson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Shirley Jackson
Tags: Fiction, Short Stories
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hat,” the sound truck said, “blue shoes, carrying a large package.” Miss Morgan went frantically out into the street, not looking where she was going, crossed directly in front of the sound truck, and reached the other side, to meet a man wearing a huge cardboard poster saying “Miss X, Miss X, find Miss X. CARRYING A LARGE PACKAGE. Blue shoes, blue hat, red and gray tweed coat, CARRYING A LARGE PACKAGE.” The man was distributing leaflets right and left, and people let them fall to the ground without taking them. Miss Morgan stepped on one of the leaflets and “Find Miss X” glared up at her from the ground under her foot.
She was going past a millinery shop, when she had a sudden idea; moving quickly, she went inside, into the quiet. There were no posters in there, and Miss Morgan smiled gratefully at the quiet-looking woman who came forward to her. They don’t do much business in here , Miss Morgan thought, they’re so eager for customers, they come out right away. Her well-bred voice came back to her; “I beg your pardon,” she said daintily, “but would it be possible, do you think, for you to let me have either a hat bag or a hatbox?”
“A hatbox?” the woman said vaguely. “You mean, empty?”
“I’d be willing to purchase it, of course,” Miss Morgan said, and laughed lightly. “It just so happens,” she said, “that I have decided to carry my hat in this beautiful weather, and one feels so foolish going down the street carrying a hat. So I thought a bag… or a hatbox…”
The woman’s eyes lowered to the package Miss Morgan was carrying. “Another package?” she asked.
Miss Morgan made a nervous gesture of putting the package behind her, and said, her voice a little sharper, “Really, it doesn’t seem like such a strange thing to ask . A hatbox or a bag.”
“Well…” the woman said. She turned to the back of the shop and went to a counter behind which were stacked piles of hatboxes. “You see,” she said, “I’m alone in the shop right now, and around here very often people come in just to make nuisances of themselves. There’ve been at least two burglaries in the neighborhood since we’ve been here, you know,” she added, looking uneasily at Miss Morgan.
“Really?” Miss Morgan said, her voice casual. “And how long, may I ask, have you been here?”
“Well…” the woman said. “Seventeen years.” She took down a hatbox, and then, suddenly struck with an idea, said, “Would you like to look at some hats while you’re here?”
Miss Morgan started to say no, and then her eye was caught by a red and gray caplike hat, and she said with mild interest, “I might just try that one on, if I might.”
“Indeed, yes,” the woman said. She reached up and took the hat off the figure that held it. “This is one of our best numbers,” she said, and Miss Morgan sat down in front of a mirror while the woman tried the hat on her.
“It’s lovely on you,” the woman said, and Miss Morgan nodded. “It’s just the red in my coat,” she said, pleased.
“You really ought to wear a red hat with that coat,” the woman said.
Miss Morgan thought suddenly, what would Mr. Lang say if he knew I was in here trying on hats when I’m supposed to be going on his errands. “How much is it?” she asked hastily.
“Well…” the woman said. “Eight ninety-five.”
“It’s far too much for this hat,” Miss Morgan said. “I’ll just take the box.”
“That’s eight ninety-five with the box,” the woman said unpleasantly.
Helplessly, Miss Morgan stared from the woman to the mirror to the package she had put down on the counter. There was a ten-dollar bill in her pocketbook. “All right,” she said finally. “Put my old hat in a box and I’ll wear this one.”
“You’ll never be sorry you bought that hat,” the woman said. She picked up Miss Morgan’s blue hat and set it inside a box. While she was tying the box she said cheerfully, “For a minute I was
She was going past a millinery shop, when she had a sudden idea; moving quickly, she went inside, into the quiet. There were no posters in there, and Miss Morgan smiled gratefully at the quiet-looking woman who came forward to her. They don’t do much business in here , Miss Morgan thought, they’re so eager for customers, they come out right away. Her well-bred voice came back to her; “I beg your pardon,” she said daintily, “but would it be possible, do you think, for you to let me have either a hat bag or a hatbox?”
“A hatbox?” the woman said vaguely. “You mean, empty?”
“I’d be willing to purchase it, of course,” Miss Morgan said, and laughed lightly. “It just so happens,” she said, “that I have decided to carry my hat in this beautiful weather, and one feels so foolish going down the street carrying a hat. So I thought a bag… or a hatbox…”
The woman’s eyes lowered to the package Miss Morgan was carrying. “Another package?” she asked.
Miss Morgan made a nervous gesture of putting the package behind her, and said, her voice a little sharper, “Really, it doesn’t seem like such a strange thing to ask . A hatbox or a bag.”
“Well…” the woman said. She turned to the back of the shop and went to a counter behind which were stacked piles of hatboxes. “You see,” she said, “I’m alone in the shop right now, and around here very often people come in just to make nuisances of themselves. There’ve been at least two burglaries in the neighborhood since we’ve been here, you know,” she added, looking uneasily at Miss Morgan.
“Really?” Miss Morgan said, her voice casual. “And how long, may I ask, have you been here?”
“Well…” the woman said. “Seventeen years.” She took down a hatbox, and then, suddenly struck with an idea, said, “Would you like to look at some hats while you’re here?”
Miss Morgan started to say no, and then her eye was caught by a red and gray caplike hat, and she said with mild interest, “I might just try that one on, if I might.”
“Indeed, yes,” the woman said. She reached up and took the hat off the figure that held it. “This is one of our best numbers,” she said, and Miss Morgan sat down in front of a mirror while the woman tried the hat on her.
“It’s lovely on you,” the woman said, and Miss Morgan nodded. “It’s just the red in my coat,” she said, pleased.
“You really ought to wear a red hat with that coat,” the woman said.
Miss Morgan thought suddenly, what would Mr. Lang say if he knew I was in here trying on hats when I’m supposed to be going on his errands. “How much is it?” she asked hastily.
“Well…” the woman said. “Eight ninety-five.”
“It’s far too much for this hat,” Miss Morgan said. “I’ll just take the box.”
“That’s eight ninety-five with the box,” the woman said unpleasantly.
Helplessly, Miss Morgan stared from the woman to the mirror to the package she had put down on the counter. There was a ten-dollar bill in her pocketbook. “All right,” she said finally. “Put my old hat in a box and I’ll wear this one.”
“You’ll never be sorry you bought that hat,” the woman said. She picked up Miss Morgan’s blue hat and set it inside a box. While she was tying the box she said cheerfully, “For a minute I was
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