“I guess so. He just left. Him and that woman he married.” Tom’s voice trails off and he walks over to the window. We all sit quiet a minute.
Finally Pop says gently, “Well, don’t waste too much breath on her. She’s nothing to do with you.”
Tom turns around angrily. “She’s no good. She loafs around and drinks all the time. She talked him into going.”
“And he went.” There’s another short silence, and Pop goes on. “Where was this you lived?”
“House. It was a pretty nice little house, too. Dark red with white trim, and enough of a yard to play a little ball, and I grew a few lettuces every spring. I even got one ear of corn once. We moved there when I was in second grade because my mom said it was near a good local school. I lived there till I went to college. I suppose he sold it, or got a loan, and they lit off to drink it up. Soon’s they’d got _me_ off their hands.”
Tom bites off the last word. Suddenly I can see the picture pretty clear: the nice house, the father Tom always talked down and hoped would measure up. Now it’s like somebody has taken his whole childhood and crumpled it up like a wad of tissue paper and thrown it away.
Mom gets up and goes into the kitchen. Pop’s foot keeps on twitching. Finally he says, “Well, I steered you wrong. I’m sorry. But maybe it’s just as well to have it settled.”
Mom brings out a tray of ginger-ale glasses. It seems sort of inadequate at a moment like this, but when Tom takes a glass from her he looks like he’s going to bust out crying.
He drinks some and blows his nose, and Dad says, “When are you supposed to check in with the Youth Board again?”
“Tuesday. My day off. And I wind up the filling-station job the next week, right after Labor Day.”
“Labor Day. Hm-m. We’ve got to get moving. If you like, I’ll come down to the Youth Board with you, and we’ll see what we can all cook up. Don’t worry too much. I have a feeling you’re just beginning to fight—really fight, not just throw a few stones.”
“I don’t know why you bother.” Tom starts to stand up. But while we’ve been talking, Cat has been creeping up under the side table, playing the ambush game, and he launches himself at Tom just as he starts to stand. It throws him off balance and he sits back in the chair, holding Cat.