A Swift and Victorious Skirmish Against the Cashtruthian Philosophy (standard:other, 1465 words)
Author: kupecz99	Added: Oct 03 2000	Views/Reads: 3679/2280	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Sally's folks are dead and "Uncle Nick" is a fool, but he saves Saly's life when she needs it.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

different from what  you know -- eventually you go to sleep -- forget 
it  altogether..." 

He stood there holding the thought for a moment,  "...and your life gets
to be like a boring dream."  Surprised  to remember she was there, 
standing in the doorway behind him,  he turned back to her, she 
fragile, shakey, a clear shadow of  her mother's  stubborn beauty 
falling across the childish line  of her cheek and full lower lip. 

"What do you know?" he asked, looking into her eyes,  and she was still
glaring at him, but immediately turned her  head away.  "What's true?"  
She kept looking at the floor,  shaking her head. 

"What do you really know?"  he asked gently, putting a  hand on her
shoulder, thinking, 'I have been a fool all my  life, haven't I?  And 
life has passed me by.  These beautiful  new people have come to enjoy 
this beautiful world that I have  missed out on; what I thought and 
felt doesn't mean anything  to them.  I'm garbage, stinking up the 
place.  And they're  right, I haven't understood anything.'  He put his 
hand  lightly on her shoulder and she turned rigid.  "What do you  
know?" he repeated. 

"Nuthin'," she mumbled, but then she just about spat  at him,. 
"Nothing!  I don't know anything, I'm just..."  thinking what a stupid 
man, why didn't she know it before.  'Stupid stupid little old man in 
his greasey shirt and  wrinkled suit.'  Choking for a bad enough word, 
her face hard,  sneering, she shrugged his hand off of her. 

It was  as if the hallway exploded, such a loud  crashing bang.  She saw
that he had only thrown his suitcase  to the hardwood floor of the 
hall, but it had hit just right  for the loudest possible noise.  
Thinking he was going to hit  her she ran back into her room, and he 
followed her.  "You  stay out of here," she screamed, "go away!  You're 
crazy!  ...little dirty man."  But he already had her tightly by both  
upper arms, his face nearly on her. 

"Say," he said intently, "say what you know."  She  started to cry, her
little girl's face clenched up like a  baby's; she was frightened.  Her 
knees buckled and she  crumpled to the loopy pink carpet. 

She was a big girl, and he was thinking so hard that  he lost his
balance and her weight pulled him over with her.  Though they thumped 
down pretty hard he kept his grip on her  shoulders.  "Go on, say it," 
he pleaded. 

She was sobbing and shaking her head, but she knew he  was not angry
with her.  "Say it," he said. 

She took a deep breath, but it caught in her throat,  then she wiped her
eyes, first on one shoulder, then on the  other, and looked at his kind 
face.  "Always speak the truth,"  she said. 

"Yes," he said. 

"Treat everybody the same," she said. 

She was smiling now, though the tears were running  freely down her
mottled cheeks.  His tears were splashing on  her navy blue woolen 
sweater.  She smoothed his hair gently.  They were both laughing and 
crying at the same time. 

"Go on," he said, and she went on speaking, listing,  for quite a while,
some of it personal, a few things, but  mostly not.  Each and every 
time she spoke he said "Yes,"  quietly, nodding his head which was 
resting lightly on her  breast. 

After a time she was silent.  He rose, brushing off his suit, trying to
brush the creases out of his hard new  black trousers, went to her 
dresser mirror and brushed his  cheeks dry with his fingertips, ran 
them through his hair. 

"I should get going," he said shyly, in a way he  hadn't spoken to
anyone for twenty years or more, shyly, "it's  a long drive," and 
strode to the door. 

She bounded up, light as a bird, caught him in the  doorway and threw
her arms around him from behind, hugged him  tightly for a moment. 

She carried his suitcase out to the car for him, and  he dropped her off
at her Aunt Mary’s, asking her to make his  apologies for him, and he 
drove through the bright falling  leaves to the interstate. 

·	*  JK  * 


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