Read Online The Last Picture Show by Larry McMurtry - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Larry McMurtry
Ads: Link
old and worn out.
"Just sit at the table," Mrs. Popper said. There was some. thing wild in her face that made Sonny think of his father—when she smiled at him there was a pressure behind the smile, as if something inside her were trying to break through her skin.
"Would you like milk or a Coke?" she asked. "I'm really sorry I made you come in—you can go right now if you like. For a minute I was just scared to be alone."
Sonny said he would take a Coke. She got one, and set a plate of thin Nabisco cookies on the table with it. For a minute or two, watching him eat, she seemed to be getting all right, and then to his amazement and disgust she burst out crying again, loudly. She put her head in her arms and sobbed, her body shaking as if she had the heaves. Sonny was sure she must be crazy and he wanted to be away from her. He didn't even want to swallow the bite he had in his mouth. Mrs. Popper seemed to know what he was thinking; she looked up at him and tried to quit crying.
"You'll never forgive me, I know," she said. "You think I'm pitiable, you're disgusted. Go on away if you want to, you don't have to stay any longer."
"Thank you for the Coke," Sonny said hastily, taking her at her word. "Maybe you'll get to feeling better after your operation."
"Oh no, it's not the operation," she said, wiping her face with a yellow table napkin. "It's not the operation at all. The tumor probably won't be dangerous. It's just that thinking about it makes me so lonely I can't stand it."
"Well, I guess you'll be glad when basketball season is over," Sonny said, feeling a little more kindly toward her. "Coach probably doesn't get to stay home much during football and basketball season."
Mrs. Popper laid down her napkin and looked at Sonny as if she were seeing him for the first time. She quit crying and became completely calm. "My God," she said. "You don't know a thing about it, do you?"
Then she did a thing which he would never forget: she got up, came around the table, put out her hand, and traced her fingers down his jaw almost to his mouth. Her fingers were cool. She put her hand on his head for a minute, felt his hair against her palm and between her fingers, and then quickly reached down for one of his hands and pressed it against her cheek and throat. She held his hand there for a moment and then laid it back on the table as carefully as if it were a piece of china.
"I know I mustn't be that way," she said, and again it looked as if something were pushing at the inside of her skin. Sonny felt very confused, but no longer particularly scared or particularly anxious to get away. From the way she touched him and looked at him he knew she had thought about kissing him when she put her hand on his face. He didn't know what would have happened, because he had no idea how it would feel to kiss someone older than himself, someone who was married. But when he looked at Mrs. Popper's mouth he wished that she had gone ahead, or that he had done something. He was sure it would have been nice to kiss her, much nicer than it had been to kiss Charlene.
But Mrs. Popper went back to her own chair and looked at the splotch on the tablecloth her tears had made.
"Here I am wanting to tell you I'm sorry again," she said, smiling a little. "I know I've given you a bad afternoon. For ten seconds there I was ready to try and seduce you, if you know what that means. To tell you the honest truth, I don't know what it means myself. I've never seduced anyone and I've never been seduced, but I've always liked the word. I thought if I was ever going to find out what it meant it had better be now."
She sighed. "I don't guess you can imagine being seduced by the wife of your coach. I'm not so terribly pretty and I don't think you even like me. It probably wouldn't be best for you to be seduced by a forty-year-old woman you don't even like. Do you have a girl friend?"
"I did have," Sonny said. "We broke up last Saturday night."
"Why did you break
"Just sit at the table," Mrs. Popper said. There was some. thing wild in her face that made Sonny think of his father—when she smiled at him there was a pressure behind the smile, as if something inside her were trying to break through her skin.
"Would you like milk or a Coke?" she asked. "I'm really sorry I made you come in—you can go right now if you like. For a minute I was just scared to be alone."
Sonny said he would take a Coke. She got one, and set a plate of thin Nabisco cookies on the table with it. For a minute or two, watching him eat, she seemed to be getting all right, and then to his amazement and disgust she burst out crying again, loudly. She put her head in her arms and sobbed, her body shaking as if she had the heaves. Sonny was sure she must be crazy and he wanted to be away from her. He didn't even want to swallow the bite he had in his mouth. Mrs. Popper seemed to know what he was thinking; she looked up at him and tried to quit crying.
"You'll never forgive me, I know," she said. "You think I'm pitiable, you're disgusted. Go on away if you want to, you don't have to stay any longer."
"Thank you for the Coke," Sonny said hastily, taking her at her word. "Maybe you'll get to feeling better after your operation."
"Oh no, it's not the operation," she said, wiping her face with a yellow table napkin. "It's not the operation at all. The tumor probably won't be dangerous. It's just that thinking about it makes me so lonely I can't stand it."
"Well, I guess you'll be glad when basketball season is over," Sonny said, feeling a little more kindly toward her. "Coach probably doesn't get to stay home much during football and basketball season."
Mrs. Popper laid down her napkin and looked at Sonny as if she were seeing him for the first time. She quit crying and became completely calm. "My God," she said. "You don't know a thing about it, do you?"
Then she did a thing which he would never forget: she got up, came around the table, put out her hand, and traced her fingers down his jaw almost to his mouth. Her fingers were cool. She put her hand on his head for a minute, felt his hair against her palm and between her fingers, and then quickly reached down for one of his hands and pressed it against her cheek and throat. She held his hand there for a moment and then laid it back on the table as carefully as if it were a piece of china.
"I know I mustn't be that way," she said, and again it looked as if something were pushing at the inside of her skin. Sonny felt very confused, but no longer particularly scared or particularly anxious to get away. From the way she touched him and looked at him he knew she had thought about kissing him when she put her hand on his face. He didn't know what would have happened, because he had no idea how it would feel to kiss someone older than himself, someone who was married. But when he looked at Mrs. Popper's mouth he wished that she had gone ahead, or that he had done something. He was sure it would have been nice to kiss her, much nicer than it had been to kiss Charlene.
But Mrs. Popper went back to her own chair and looked at the splotch on the tablecloth her tears had made.
"Here I am wanting to tell you I'm sorry again," she said, smiling a little. "I know I've given you a bad afternoon. For ten seconds there I was ready to try and seduce you, if you know what that means. To tell you the honest truth, I don't know what it means myself. I've never seduced anyone and I've never been seduced, but I've always liked the word. I thought if I was ever going to find out what it meant it had better be now."
She sighed. "I don't guess you can imagine being seduced by the wife of your coach. I'm not so terribly pretty and I don't think you even like me. It probably wouldn't be best for you to be seduced by a forty-year-old woman you don't even like. Do you have a girl friend?"
"I did have," Sonny said. "We broke up last Saturday night."
"Why did you break
Similar Books
