Read Online Fires. Essays, Poems, Stories by Raymond Carver - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Raymond Carver
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said.
The girl didn't answer. She went on rocking the baby in her arms, paying no attention now to the boy.
The boy waited a minute longer then went to the kitchen and
put on water for coffee. He drew on his woolen underwear and buttoned up. Then he got into his clothes.
What are you doing? the girl said to him.
Going hunting, he said.
I don't think you should, she said. Maybe you could go later on in the day if the baby is all right then. But I don't think you should go hunting this morning. I don't want to be left alone with the baby crying like this.
Carl's planning on me going, the boy said. We've planned it.
I don't give a damn about what you and Carl have planned, she said. And I don't give a damn about Carl, either. I don't even know the man. I don't want you to go is all. I don't think you should even consider wanting to go under the circumstances.
You've met Carl before, you know him, the boy said. What do you mean you don't know him?
That's not the point and you know it, the girl said. The point is I don't intend to be left alone with a sick baby.
Wait a minute, the boy said. You don't understand.
No, you don't understand, she said. I'm your wife. This is your baby. She's sick or something. Look at her. Why is she crying? You can't leave us to go hunting.
Don't get hysterical, he said.
I'm saying you can go hunting any time, she said. Something's wrong with this baby and you want to leave us to go hunting.
She began to cry. She put the baby back in the crib, but the baby started up again. The girl dried her eyes hastily on the sleeve of her nightgown and picked the baby up once more.
The boy laced his boots slowly, put on his shirt, sweater, and his coat. The kettle whistled on the stove in the kitchen.
You're going to have to choose, the girl said. Carl or us. I mean it, you've got to choose.
What do you mean? the boy said.
You heard what I said, the girl answered. If you want a family you're going to have to choose.
They stared at each other. Then the boy took his hunting gear and went upstairs. He started the car, went around to the windows and, making a job of it, scraped away the ice.
The temperature had dropped during the night, but the weather
had cleared so that stars had come out. The stars gleamed in the sky over his head. Driving, the boy looked out at the stars and was moved when he considered their distance.
Carl's porchlight was on, his station wagon parked in the drive with the motor idling. Carl came outside as the boy pulled to the curb. The boy had decided.
You might want to park off the street, Carl said as the boy came up the walk. I'm ready, just let me hit the lights. I feel like hell, I really do, he went on. I thought maybe you had overslept so I just this minute called your place. Your wife said you had left. I feel like hell.
It's okay, the boy said, trying to pick his words. He leaned his weight on one leg and turned up his collar. He put his hands in his coat pockets. She was already up, Carl. We've both been up for a while. I guess there's something wrong with the baby. I don't know. The baby keeps crying, I mean. The thing is, I guess I can't go this time, Carl.
You should have just stepped to the phone and called me, boy, Carl said. It's okay. You know you didn't have to come over here to tell me. What the hell, this hunting business you can take it or leave it. It's not important. You want a cup of coffee?
I'd better get back, the boy said.
Well, I expect I'll go ahead then, Carl said. He looked at the boy.
The boy kept standing on the porch, not saying anything.
It's cleared up, Carl said. I don't look for much action this morning. Probably you won't have missed anything anyway.
The boy nodded. I'll see you, Carl, he said.
So long, Carl said. Hey, don't let anybody ever tell you otherwise, Carl said. You're a lucky boy and I mean that.
The boy started his car and waited. He watched Carl go through the house and turn off all the lights. Then the boy put
The girl didn't answer. She went on rocking the baby in her arms, paying no attention now to the boy.
The boy waited a minute longer then went to the kitchen and
put on water for coffee. He drew on his woolen underwear and buttoned up. Then he got into his clothes.
What are you doing? the girl said to him.
Going hunting, he said.
I don't think you should, she said. Maybe you could go later on in the day if the baby is all right then. But I don't think you should go hunting this morning. I don't want to be left alone with the baby crying like this.
Carl's planning on me going, the boy said. We've planned it.
I don't give a damn about what you and Carl have planned, she said. And I don't give a damn about Carl, either. I don't even know the man. I don't want you to go is all. I don't think you should even consider wanting to go under the circumstances.
You've met Carl before, you know him, the boy said. What do you mean you don't know him?
That's not the point and you know it, the girl said. The point is I don't intend to be left alone with a sick baby.
Wait a minute, the boy said. You don't understand.
No, you don't understand, she said. I'm your wife. This is your baby. She's sick or something. Look at her. Why is she crying? You can't leave us to go hunting.
Don't get hysterical, he said.
I'm saying you can go hunting any time, she said. Something's wrong with this baby and you want to leave us to go hunting.
She began to cry. She put the baby back in the crib, but the baby started up again. The girl dried her eyes hastily on the sleeve of her nightgown and picked the baby up once more.
The boy laced his boots slowly, put on his shirt, sweater, and his coat. The kettle whistled on the stove in the kitchen.
You're going to have to choose, the girl said. Carl or us. I mean it, you've got to choose.
What do you mean? the boy said.
You heard what I said, the girl answered. If you want a family you're going to have to choose.
They stared at each other. Then the boy took his hunting gear and went upstairs. He started the car, went around to the windows and, making a job of it, scraped away the ice.
The temperature had dropped during the night, but the weather
had cleared so that stars had come out. The stars gleamed in the sky over his head. Driving, the boy looked out at the stars and was moved when he considered their distance.
Carl's porchlight was on, his station wagon parked in the drive with the motor idling. Carl came outside as the boy pulled to the curb. The boy had decided.
You might want to park off the street, Carl said as the boy came up the walk. I'm ready, just let me hit the lights. I feel like hell, I really do, he went on. I thought maybe you had overslept so I just this minute called your place. Your wife said you had left. I feel like hell.
It's okay, the boy said, trying to pick his words. He leaned his weight on one leg and turned up his collar. He put his hands in his coat pockets. She was already up, Carl. We've both been up for a while. I guess there's something wrong with the baby. I don't know. The baby keeps crying, I mean. The thing is, I guess I can't go this time, Carl.
You should have just stepped to the phone and called me, boy, Carl said. It's okay. You know you didn't have to come over here to tell me. What the hell, this hunting business you can take it or leave it. It's not important. You want a cup of coffee?
I'd better get back, the boy said.
Well, I expect I'll go ahead then, Carl said. He looked at the boy.
The boy kept standing on the porch, not saying anything.
It's cleared up, Carl said. I don't look for much action this morning. Probably you won't have missed anything anyway.
The boy nodded. I'll see you, Carl, he said.
So long, Carl said. Hey, don't let anybody ever tell you otherwise, Carl said. You're a lucky boy and I mean that.
The boy started his car and waited. He watched Carl go through the house and turn off all the lights. Then the boy put
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