"I reckon it might could,the woman with the protruding teeth said,"but I know for a fact my apartment couldn't get no hotter.
"It must get the afternoon sun,his mother said.She sat forward and looked up and down the bus.It was half filled.Everybody was white."I see we have the bus to ourselves,she said.Julian cringed.
"For a change,said the woman across the aisle,the owner of the red and white canvas sandals."I come on one the other day and they were thick as fleas—up front and all through.
"The world is in a mess everywhere,his mother said."I don't know how we've let it get in this fix.
"What gets my goat is all those boys from good families stealing automobile tires,the woman with the protruding teeth said."I told my boy,I said you may not be rich but you been raised right and if I ever catch you in any such mess,they can send you on to the reformatory.Be exactly where you belong.
"Training tells,his mother said."Is your boy in high school?
"Ninth grade,the woman said.
"My son just finished college last year.He wants to write but he's selling typewriters until he gets started,his mother said.
The woman leaned forward and peered at Julian.He threw her such a malevolent look that she subsided against the seat.On the floor across the aisle there was an abandoned newspaper.He got up and got it and opened it out in front of him.His mother discreetly continued the conversation in a lower tone but the woman across the aisle said in a loud voice,"Well that's nice.Selling typewriters is close to writing.He can go right from one to the other.
"I tell him,his mother said,"that Rome wasn't built in a day.
Behind the newspaper Julian was withdrawing into the inner compartment of his mind where he spent most of his time.This was a kind of mental bubble in which he established himself when he could not bear to be a part of what was going on around him.From it he could see out and judge but in it he was safe from any kind of penetration from without.It was the only place where he felt free of the general idiocy of his fellows.His mother had never entered it but from it he could see her with absolute clarity.
The old lady was clever enough and he thought that if she had started from any of the right premises,more might have been expected of her.She lived according to the laws of her own fantasy world,outside of which he had never seen her set foot.The law of it was to sacrifice herself for him after she had first created the necessity to do so by making a mess of things.If he had permitted her sacrifices,it was only because her lack of foresight had made them necessary.All of her life had been a struggle to act like a Chestny without the Chestny goods,and to give him everything she thought a Chestny ought to have;but since,said she,it was fun to struggle,why complain?And when you had won,as she had won,what fun to look back on the hard times!He could not forgive her that she had enjoyed the struggle and that she thought she had won.
What she meant when she said she had won was that she had brought him up successfully and had sent him to college and that he had turned out so well—good looking(her teeth had gone unfilled so that his could be straightened),intelligent(he realized he was too intelligent to be a success),and with a future ahead of him(there was of course no future ahead of him).She excused his gloominess on the grounds that he was still growing up and his radical ideas on his lack of practical experience.She said he didn't yet know a thing about"life,that he hadn't even entered the real world—when already he was as disenchanted with it as a man of fifty.
The further irony of all this was that in spite of her,he had turned out so well.In spite of going to only a third-rate college,he had,on his own initiative,come out with a first-rate education;in spite of growing up dominated by a small mind,he had ended up with a large one;in spite of all her foolish views,he was free of prejudice and unafraid to face facts.Most miraculous of all,instead of being blinded by love for her as she was for him,he had cut himself emotionally free of her and could see her with complete objectivity.He was not dominated by his mother.
The bus stopped with a sudden jerk and shook him from his meditation.A woman from the back lurched forward with little steps and barely escaped falling in his newspaper as she righted herself.She got off and a large Negro got on.Julian kept his paper lowered to watch.It gave him a certain satisfaction to see injustice in daily operation.It confirmed his view that with a few exceptions there was no one worth knowing within a radius of three hundred miles.The Negro was well dressed and carried a briefcase.He looked around and then sat down on the other end of the seat where the woman with the red and white canvas sandals was sitting.He immediately unfolded a newspaper and obscured himself behind it.Julian's mother's elbow at once prodded insistently into his ribs."Now you see why I won't ride on these buses by myself,she whispered.
The woman with the red and white canvas sandals had risen at the same time the Negro sat down and had gone further back in the bus and taken the seat of the woman who had got off.His mother leaned forward and cast her an approving look.
Julian rose,crossed the aisle,and sat down in the place of the woman with the canvas sandals.From this position,he looked serenely across at his mother.Her face had turned an angry red.He stared at her,making his eyes the eyes of a stranger.He felt his tension suddenly lift as if he had openly declared war on her.
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