Go Set a Watchman - Lee Harper (мир книг txt) 📗

“—and you’re not sure you like it, eh?” Henry was grinning in the moonlight and she could see him.

She sat up. “I don’t know if I can tell you, honey. When you live in New York, you often have the feeling that New York’s not the world. I mean this: every time I come home, I feel like I’m coming back to the world, and when I leave Maycomb it’s like leaving the world. It’s silly. I can’t explain it, and what makes it sillier is that I’d go stark raving living in Maycomb.”

Henry said, “You wouldn’t, you know. I don’t mean to press you for an answer—don’t move—but you’ve got to make up your mind to one thing, Jean Louise. You’re gonna see change, you’re gonna see Maycomb change its face completely in our lifetime. Your trouble, now, you want to have your cake and eat it: you want to stop the clock, but you can’t. Sooner or later you’ll have to decide whether it’s Maycomb or New York.”

He so nearly understood. I’ll marry you, Hank, if you bring me to live here at the Landing. I’ll swap New York for this place but not for Maycomb.

She looked out at the river. The Maycomb County side was high bluffs; Abbott County was flat. When it rained the river overflowed and one could row a boat over cotton fields. She looked upstream. The Canoe Fight was up there, she thought. Sam Dale fit the Indians and Red Eagle jumped off the bluff.

And then he thinks he knows

The hills where his life rose,

And the Sea where it goes.

“Did you say something?” said Henry.

“Nothing. Just being romantic,” she said. “By the way, Aunty doesn’t approve of you.”

“I’ve known that all my life. Do you?”

“Yep.”

“Then marry me.”

“Make me an offer.”

Henry got up and sat beside her. They dangled their feet over the edge of the landing. “Where are my shoes?” she said suddenly.

“Back by the car where you kicked ’em off. Jean Louise, I can support us both now. I can keep us well in a few years if things keep on booming. The South’s the land of opportunity now. There’s enough money right here in Maycomb County to sink a—how would you like to have a husband in the legislature?”

Jean Louise was surprised. “You running?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“Against the machine?”

“Yep. It’s about ready to fall of its own weight, and if I get in on the ground floor …”

“Decent government in Maycomb County’d be such a shock I don’t think the citizens could stand it,” she said. “What does Atticus think?”

“He thinks the time is ripe.”

“You won’t have it as easy as he did.” Her father, after making his initial campaign, served in the state legislature for as long as he wished, without opposition. He was unique in the history of the county: no machines opposed Atticus Finch, no machines supported him, and no one ran against him. After he retired, the machine gobbled up the one independent office left.

“No, but I can give ’em a run for their money. The Courthouse Crowd are pretty well asleep at the switch now, and a hard campaign might just beat ’em.”

“Baby, you won’t have a helpmate,” she said. “Politics bores me to distraction.”

“Anyway, you won’t campaign against me. That’s a relief in itself.”

“A rising young man, aren’t you? Why didn’t you tell me you were Man of the Year?”

“I was afraid you’d laugh,” Henry said.

“Laugh at you, Hank?”

“Yeah. You seem to be half laughing at me all the time.”

What could she say? How many times had she hurt his feelings? She said, “You know I’ve never been exactly tactful, but I swear to God I’ve never laughed at you, Hank. In my heart I haven’t.”

She took his head in her arms. She could feel his crew cut under her chin; it was like black velvet. Henry, kissing her, drew her down to him on the floor of the landing.

Some time later, Jean Louise broke it up: “We’d better be going, Hank.”

“Not yet.”

“Yes.”

Hank said wearily, “The thing I hate most about this place is you always have to climb back up.”

“I have a friend in New York who always runs up stairs a mile a minute. Says it keeps him from getting out of breath. Why don’t you try it?”

“He your boyfriend?”

“Don’t be silly,” she said.

“You’ve said that once today.”

“Go to hell, then,” she said.

“You’ve said that once today.”

Jean Louise put her hands on her hips. “How would you like to go swimming with your clothes on? I haven’t said that once today. Right now I’d just as soon push you in as look at you.”

“You know, I think you’d do it.”

“I’d just as soon,” she nodded.

Henry grabbed her shoulder. “If I go you go with me.”

“I’ll make one concession,” she said. “You have until five to empty your pockets.”

“This is insane, Jean Louise,” he said, pulling out money, keys, billfold, cigarettes. He stepped out of his loafers.

They eyed one another like game roosters. Henry got the jump on her, but when she was falling she snatched at his shirt and took him with her. They swam swiftly in silence to the middle of the river, turned, and swam slowly to the landing. “Give me a hand up,” she said.

Dripping, their clothes clinging to them, they made their way up the steps. “We’ll be almost dry when we get to the car,” he said.

“There was a current out there tonight,” she said.

“Too much dissipation.”

“Careful I don’t push you off this bluff. I mean that.” She giggled. “Remember how Mrs. Merriweather used to do poor old Mr. Merriweather? When we’re married I’m gonna do you the same way.”

It was hard on Mr. Merriweather if he happened to quarrel with his wife while on a public highway. Mr. Merriweather could not drive, and if their dissension reached the acrimonious, Mrs. Merriweather would stop the car and hitchhike to town. Once they disagreed in a narrow lane, and Mr. Merriweather was abandoned for seven hours. Finally he hitched a ride on a passing wagon.

“When I’m in the legislature we can’t take midnight plunges,” said Henry.

“Then don’t run.”

The car hummed on. Gradually, the cool air receded and it was stifling again. Jean Louise saw the reflection of headlights behind them in the windshield, and a car passed. Soon another came by, and another. Maycomb was near.

With her head on his shoulder, Jean Louise was content. It might work after all, she thought. But I am not domestic. I don’t even know how to run a cook. What do ladies say to each other when they go visiting? I’d have to wear a hat. I’d drop the babies and kill ’em.

Something that looked like a giant black bee whooshed by them and careened around the curve ahead. She sat up, startled. “What was that?”

“Carload of Negroes.”

“Mercy, what do they think they’re doing?”

“That’s the way they assert themselves these days,” Henry said. “They’ve got enough money to buy used cars, and they get out on the highway like ninety-to-nothing. They’re a public menace.”

“Driver’s licenses?”

“Not many. No insurance, either.”

“Golly, what if something happens?”

“It’s just too sad.”

AT THE DOOR, Henry kissed her gently and let her go. “Tomorrow night?” he said.

She nodded. “Goodnight, sweet.”

Shoes in hand, she tiptoed into the front bedroom and turned on the light. She undressed, put on her pajama tops, and sneaked quietly into the livingroom. She turned on a lamp and went to the bookshelves. Oh murder, she thought. She ran her finger along the volumes of military history, lingered at The Second Punic War, and stopped at The Reason Why. Might as well bone up for Uncle Jack, she thought. She returned to her bedroom, snapped off the ceiling light, groped for the lamp, and switched it on. She climbed into the bed she was born in, read three pages, and fell asleep with the light on.