42
PARTISAN REVIEW
street in the opposite direction and drank while he drove. Late
at night he crossed the river into Harrisburg and spotted in the
shadows of a side street a girl who whistled back to him. He
would have had her in the truck. She brought him to her room.
When Gordon awoke midafternoon Sunday, the girl was dress–
ed, reading the funny sheets. She was rangy, with poor teeth,
and flat pale cheeks. Came from Scranton, daughter of a miner.
Gordon reached out and pulled her to him. He couldn't re–
member whether she had gotten the kick out of it too. When
he got up late in the evening, the feeling of elation burst swiftly
like a bubble. He avoided the big eyes of the girl. All the way
back to the farm, slumped over the wheel, he felt weary, a dull
v~gue
ache in his very guts.
Hendrickson hemmed, "Blowout? Well, you went far from
home to kill your sheep. Won't be able to let out the truck
again."
Gordon felt like hell. He couldn't even answer Lanky's
letter which didn't scold him any longer for boozing and prick–
ing between two classes, but which said that he felt he was
getting more out of the correspondence than Gordon. Maybe
it took a woman to do things with him. . Anyway, life would
inevitably teach Gordon more than
Io,ooo
letters, and could he
send to New York more information about the Hones and the
others?
Gordon got himself wild western stories and stayed up late
drinking and reading.
It
was only after battling around with
himself for Jays th at he decided to stick it out a couple months
more. By midwinter, he would have enough saved to keep him
free for some time. He had been able to buy clothes and feed
his gut. He might be able to get a car. He couldn't forget his
old high-powered Buick. A car gave a fellow wings, would
slacken the strings from New York which seemed to have grown
into him, become part of his veins, nerves, blood. He could get
to Caliiornia or the Dakotas where the pitchfork was growing.
And he could remember too well the little Mexican field worker
in Brawley, her hard padded hands, how she smelled of sweat
and cheap perfume crushed under you.
And then one afternoon in December, he drove to town
to get a load of feed. He bought himself beer at Firkin's, and
stood near the door watching the high school girls sailing down
the street. From the other direction a bunch of the hill farmers
