“Don’t apologize, Mr. Kendall. Like I say, I appreciate your interest.”
“It’s a very warm interest, Mr. Bigelow.” He bobbed his head seriously. “All my life, I’ve had someone to look after, and now with my parents dead—God rest them—and nothing to occupy me but my job and my books, I—I—”
“Sure. Surely,” I repeated.
He laughed, a shamed sad little laugh. “I tried to take a vacation last year. I own a little lakeside cabin up in Canada—nothing pretentious, you understand; the site is too isolated to have any value, and we, my father and I, built the cabin ourselves—so I bought a car and started to drive up there. Two days after I left town, I was back here again. Back here working. And I’ve hardly had my car out of the garage since.”
I nodded, waiting. He chuckled halfheartedly. “That’s an explanation and an apology, if you can unravel it. Incidentally, if you’d like to use the car some time, you’ll be entirely welcome.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’d be glad to pay you for it.”
“You’d only complicate my life further for me.” He laughed again. “I could only add it to my savings, and since they, obviously, can do me not the slightest good—I couldn’t appreciate the pleasures they might buy, and the pension which will soon be due me is more than enough to provide for my wants—so—”
I said, “I understand,” or something equally brilliant.
“I imagine I’m too old to acquire the habit of spending,” he went on. “Thrift like work has become a vice with me. I’m not comfortable with them, but I’d be less content without them. Does that sound pretty stupid to you?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way,” I said. “I’d say, though, that if you had enough money—you know twenty or thirty thousand dollars—you might get quite a bit of fun out of it.”
“Mmm. You feel the case is similar to that of having a little knowledge, eh? Perhaps you’re right. But since the relative little is what I do have and I see no way of substantially increasing it—” He ended the sentence with a shrug. “Now to get back to you, Mr. Bigelow, if I may—if you won’t feel that I’m trying to order your life for you—”
“Not at all,” I said.
“I’ve felt for a long time that there should be a storeroom man in here. Someone to check these supplies out instead of merely letting the different departments help themselves. I mentioned the fact to the owner today and he gave his approval, so if you’d like to have the job you can start in immediately.”
“And you think I should?” I said. “Start in immediately, I mean.”
“Well”—he hesitated; then he nodded firmly—“I certainly don’t see that you could lose anything by it.”
I lighted a cigarette, stalling for a minute’s time. I thought it over fast, and I decided that whatever he was or wasn’t, I was on my own. This was my job, my game, and I knew how to play it. And if anyone was going to tell me what to do, it would have to be The Man.
“I’ll tell you what, Mr. Kendall,” I said. “I’ve had a long trip, and I’m pretty tired and—”
“The job won’t be at all arduous. You can set your own hours, practically, and much of the time there’s nothing at all to—”
“I think I’d rather wait,” I said. “I plan on running into New York tomorrow night, or Saturday at the latest. Today would probably be the only day I could get in before Sunday.”
“Oh,” he said. “Well, of course, in that case—”
“I would like to have the job, though,” I said. “That is, if you can hold it for me.”
He said that he could, rather reluctantly, apparently not too pleased at failing to get his own way. Then his face cleared suddenly, and he slid down off the table.
“I can give it to you, now,” he said. “We’ll say that you’re just laying off for a couple of days.”
“Fine,” I said.
“I know I’m overcautious and apprehensive. But I always feel that if
“It’s a very warm interest, Mr. Bigelow.” He bobbed his head seriously. “All my life, I’ve had someone to look after, and now with my parents dead—God rest them—and nothing to occupy me but my job and my books, I—I—”
“Sure. Surely,” I repeated.
He laughed, a shamed sad little laugh. “I tried to take a vacation last year. I own a little lakeside cabin up in Canada—nothing pretentious, you understand; the site is too isolated to have any value, and we, my father and I, built the cabin ourselves—so I bought a car and started to drive up there. Two days after I left town, I was back here again. Back here working. And I’ve hardly had my car out of the garage since.”
I nodded, waiting. He chuckled halfheartedly. “That’s an explanation and an apology, if you can unravel it. Incidentally, if you’d like to use the car some time, you’ll be entirely welcome.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’d be glad to pay you for it.”
“You’d only complicate my life further for me.” He laughed again. “I could only add it to my savings, and since they, obviously, can do me not the slightest good—I couldn’t appreciate the pleasures they might buy, and the pension which will soon be due me is more than enough to provide for my wants—so—”
I said, “I understand,” or something equally brilliant.
“I imagine I’m too old to acquire the habit of spending,” he went on. “Thrift like work has become a vice with me. I’m not comfortable with them, but I’d be less content without them. Does that sound pretty stupid to you?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way,” I said. “I’d say, though, that if you had enough money—you know twenty or thirty thousand dollars—you might get quite a bit of fun out of it.”
“Mmm. You feel the case is similar to that of having a little knowledge, eh? Perhaps you’re right. But since the relative little is what I do have and I see no way of substantially increasing it—” He ended the sentence with a shrug. “Now to get back to you, Mr. Bigelow, if I may—if you won’t feel that I’m trying to order your life for you—”
“Not at all,” I said.
“I’ve felt for a long time that there should be a storeroom man in here. Someone to check these supplies out instead of merely letting the different departments help themselves. I mentioned the fact to the owner today and he gave his approval, so if you’d like to have the job you can start in immediately.”
“And you think I should?” I said. “Start in immediately, I mean.”
“Well”—he hesitated; then he nodded firmly—“I certainly don’t see that you could lose anything by it.”
I lighted a cigarette, stalling for a minute’s time. I thought it over fast, and I decided that whatever he was or wasn’t, I was on my own. This was my job, my game, and I knew how to play it. And if anyone was going to tell me what to do, it would have to be The Man.
“I’ll tell you what, Mr. Kendall,” I said. “I’ve had a long trip, and I’m pretty tired and—”
“The job won’t be at all arduous. You can set your own hours, practically, and much of the time there’s nothing at all to—”
“I think I’d rather wait,” I said. “I plan on running into New York tomorrow night, or Saturday at the latest. Today would probably be the only day I could get in before Sunday.”
“Oh,” he said. “Well, of course, in that case—”
“I would like to have the job, though,” I said. “That is, if you can hold it for me.”
He said that he could, rather reluctantly, apparently not too pleased at failing to get his own way. Then his face cleared suddenly, and he slid down off the table.
“I can give it to you, now,” he said. “We’ll say that you’re just laying off for a couple of days.”
“Fine,” I said.
“I know I’m overcautious and apprehensive. But I always feel that if
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