Read Online The Deep Blue Good-By by John D. MacDonald - Free Book Online
Authors: John D. MacDonald
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community, after all.
He was at the gas station. And terribly cheerful and agreeable. And just a little bit fresh. if I'd Page 32
stopped him right in the beginning... But I'm not very good about that sort of thing. I guess I've always been shy. I don't like to complain about people. People who are very confident, I guess I don't really know how to handle the situations as they come up. It was just things he said, and the way he looked at me, and then one time at the gas station, I had the top down, he stood by the door on the driver's side and put his hand on -my shoulder. Nobody could see him doing it. He just held his hand there and I asked him please not to do that and he laughed and took his hand away. Then he got more fresh, after that. But I hadn't reported him before, and I decided I would stop trading there, and I did. Then one day I was at the market and when I came out, he was sitting in my car and he asked me very politely if I could drop him off at the station. I said of course. I --q PM expected him to do something- I didn't know what. And if he did anything, I was going to stop the car and order him to get out. After all, it was broad daylight. The moment I got in and shut the door and began to start the car, he just reached over and... put his hand on me.
And he was grinning at me. it was such...
such an unthinkable thing, Trav, so horrible and unexpected that it paralyzed me. I thought I would faint. People were walking by, but they couldn't see. I couldn't move or speak, or even think what I should do. People like me react too violently when they do react, I guess. I shoved him away and shouted at him and ordered him out of the car, He took his time getting out, never stopping his smile. Then he leaned into the car and said something about how I'd give him better treatment if he was rich. I told him there was not that much money in the world. You know, there is something sickening about that curly white hair and that brown face and those little blue eyes. He said that when he made his fortune he would come back and see how I reacted, something like that, some remark like that."
The orderliness of that portion of the account was an exception. For the rest of it, her mind was less disciplined, her account more random. But it was a good mind. It had insight. Once, as she was getting sleepy, she looked somberly at me and said, "I guess there are a lot of people like me. We react too soon or too late or not at all. We're jumpy people, and we don't seem to belong here. We're victims, maybe. The Junior Allens are so sure of themselves and so sure of us. They know how to use us, how to take us further than we wish before we know what to do about it." She frowned. 'And they seem to know by instinct exactly how to trade upon our concealed desire to accept that kind of domination. I wanted to make a life down here, Trav. I was lonely. I was tying to be friendly. I was trying to be a part of something."
Ramirez came in the early afternoon just after I had teased her into eating more than she thought she could. He checked her over.
He said to me, 'Not so close to hysteria now.
A complex and involved organism, McGee. All physical resource was gone. And just the nerves left, and those about played out. Maybe we can rest them a little now. You wouldn't think it, but there's an awesome vitality there."
I told him of my contact with the family, and of the wrestling match in the middle of the night.
"She may become agitated again, maybe not so much next time."
"How about a rest home?" He shrugged. 'If you've had enough, yes. But pppm- this is better for her. I think she can come back quicker this way. But she can become emotionally dependent Page 33
upon you, particularly if she learns to talk it out, to YOU."
"She's been talking."
He stared at me. "Strange you should do all this for her."
"Pity, I guess."
"One of the worst traps of all, McGee."
"What can I expect?"
"I think as she gets further back from the
He was at the gas station. And terribly cheerful and agreeable. And just a little bit fresh. if I'd Page 32
stopped him right in the beginning... But I'm not very good about that sort of thing. I guess I've always been shy. I don't like to complain about people. People who are very confident, I guess I don't really know how to handle the situations as they come up. It was just things he said, and the way he looked at me, and then one time at the gas station, I had the top down, he stood by the door on the driver's side and put his hand on -my shoulder. Nobody could see him doing it. He just held his hand there and I asked him please not to do that and he laughed and took his hand away. Then he got more fresh, after that. But I hadn't reported him before, and I decided I would stop trading there, and I did. Then one day I was at the market and when I came out, he was sitting in my car and he asked me very politely if I could drop him off at the station. I said of course. I --q PM expected him to do something- I didn't know what. And if he did anything, I was going to stop the car and order him to get out. After all, it was broad daylight. The moment I got in and shut the door and began to start the car, he just reached over and... put his hand on me.
And he was grinning at me. it was such...
such an unthinkable thing, Trav, so horrible and unexpected that it paralyzed me. I thought I would faint. People were walking by, but they couldn't see. I couldn't move or speak, or even think what I should do. People like me react too violently when they do react, I guess. I shoved him away and shouted at him and ordered him out of the car, He took his time getting out, never stopping his smile. Then he leaned into the car and said something about how I'd give him better treatment if he was rich. I told him there was not that much money in the world. You know, there is something sickening about that curly white hair and that brown face and those little blue eyes. He said that when he made his fortune he would come back and see how I reacted, something like that, some remark like that."
The orderliness of that portion of the account was an exception. For the rest of it, her mind was less disciplined, her account more random. But it was a good mind. It had insight. Once, as she was getting sleepy, she looked somberly at me and said, "I guess there are a lot of people like me. We react too soon or too late or not at all. We're jumpy people, and we don't seem to belong here. We're victims, maybe. The Junior Allens are so sure of themselves and so sure of us. They know how to use us, how to take us further than we wish before we know what to do about it." She frowned. 'And they seem to know by instinct exactly how to trade upon our concealed desire to accept that kind of domination. I wanted to make a life down here, Trav. I was lonely. I was tying to be friendly. I was trying to be a part of something."
Ramirez came in the early afternoon just after I had teased her into eating more than she thought she could. He checked her over.
He said to me, 'Not so close to hysteria now.
A complex and involved organism, McGee. All physical resource was gone. And just the nerves left, and those about played out. Maybe we can rest them a little now. You wouldn't think it, but there's an awesome vitality there."
I told him of my contact with the family, and of the wrestling match in the middle of the night.
"She may become agitated again, maybe not so much next time."
"How about a rest home?" He shrugged. 'If you've had enough, yes. But pppm- this is better for her. I think she can come back quicker this way. But she can become emotionally dependent Page 33
upon you, particularly if she learns to talk it out, to YOU."
"She's been talking."
He stared at me. "Strange you should do all this for her."
"Pity, I guess."
"One of the worst traps of all, McGee."
"What can I expect?"
"I think as she gets further back from the
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