carson mccullers - the heart is a lonely hunter-第38章

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to　it　many　times　and　try　to　join　it　into　the　parts　of　the　
symphony　she　remembered。　The　inside　room　was　a　very　pri

139　
vate　place。　She　could　be　in　the　middle　of　a　house　full　of　
people　and　still　feel　like　she　was　locked　up　by　herself。　
Spareribs　stuck　his　dirty　hand　up　to　her　eyes　because　she　had　
been　staring　off　at　space。　She　slapped　him。　
'What　is　a　nun？'　Bubber　asked。　
'A　Catholic　lady；'　Spareribs　said。　'A　Catholic　lady　with　a　big　
black　dress　that　comes　up　over　her　head。'　


She　was　tired　of　hanging　around　with　the　kids。　She　would　go　
to　the　library　and　look　at　pictures　in　the　National　Geographic。　
Photographs　of　all　the　foreign　places　in　the　world。　Paris；　
France。　And　big　ice　glaciers。　And　the　wild　jungles　in　Africa。　
'You　kids　see　that　Ralph　don't　get　out　in　the　street；'　she　said。　
Bubber　rested　the　big　rifle　on　his　shoulder。　'Bring　me　a　
story　back　with　you。'　
It　was　like　that　kid　had　been　born　knowing　how　to　read。　He　
was　only　in　the　second　grade　but　he　loved　to　read　stories　by　
himself—and　he　never　asked　anybody　else　to　read　to　him。　
'What　kind　you　want　this　time？'　
'Pick　out　some　stories　with　something　to　eat　in　them。　I　like　
that　one　a　whole　lot　about　them　German　kids　going　out　in　the　
forest　and　coming　to　this　house　made　out　of　all　different　kinds　
of　candy　and　the　witch。　I　like　a　story　with　something　to　eat　in　
it。'　
'I'll　look　for　one；'　said　Mick。　
'But　I'm　getting　kinda　tired　of　candy；'　Bubber　said。　'See　if　you　
can't　bring　me　a　story　with　something　like　a　barbecue　
sandwich　in　it。　But　if　you　can't　find　none　of　them　I'd　like　a　
cowboy　story。'　
She　was　ready　to　leave　when　suddenly　she　stopped　and　stared。　
The　kids　stared　too。　They　all　stood　still　and　looked　at　Baby　
Wilson　coming　down　the　steps　of　her　house　across　the　street。　
'Ain't　Baby　cute！'　said　Bubber　softly。　
Maybe　it　was　the　sudden　hot；　sunny　day　after　all　those　rainy　
weeks。　Maybe　it　was　because　their　dark　winter　clothes　were　
ugly　to　them　on　an　afternoon　like　this　one。　Anyway　Baby　
looked　like　a　fairy　or　something　in　the　picture　show。　She　had　
on　her　last　year's　soiree　costume—with　a　little　pink…gauze　
skirt　that　stuck　out　short　and　stiff；　a　pink　body　waist；　pink　
dancing　shoes；　and　even　a　little　pink140　

pocketbook。　With　her　yellow　hair　she　was　all　pink　and　white　
and　gold—and　so　small　and　clean　that　it　almost　hurt　to　watch　
her。　She　prissed　across　the　street　in　a　cute　way；　but　would　not　
turn　her　face　toward　them。　
'Come　over　here；'　said　Bubber。　'Lemme　look　at　your　little　pink　
pocketbook'　
Baby　passed　them　along　the　edge　of　the　street　with　her　head　


held　to　one　side。　She　had　made　up　her　mind　not　to　speak　to　
them。　
There　was　a　strip　of　grass　between　the　sidewalk　and　the　street；　
and　when　Baby　reached　it　she　stood　still　for　a　second　and　then　
turned　a　handspring。　
'Don't　pay　no　mind　to　her；'　said　Spareribs。　'She　always　tries　to　
show　off。　She's　going　down　to　Mister　Brannon's　cafe　to　get　
candy。　He's　her　uncle　and　she　gets　it　free。'　
Bubber　rested　the　end　of　the　rifle　on　the　ground。　The　big　gun　
was　too　heavy　for　him。　As　he　watched　Baby　walk　off　down　
the　street　he　kept　pulling　the　straggly　bangs　of　his　hair。　'That　
sure　is　a　cute　little　pink　pocketbook；'　he　said。　
'Her　Mama　always　talks　about　how　talented　she　is；'　said　
Spareribs。　'She　thinks　she's　gonna　get　Baby　in　the　movies。'　
It　was　too　late　to　go　look　at　the　National　Geographic。　Supper　
was　almost　ready。　Ralph　tuned　up　to　cry　and　she　took　him　off　
the　wagon　and　put　him　on　the　ground。　Now　it　was　December；　
and　to　a　kid　Bubber's　age　that　was　a　long　time　from　summer。　
All　last　summer　Baby　had　come　out　in　that　pink　soiree　
costume　and　danced　in　the　middle　of　the　street。　At　first　the　
kids　would　flock　around　and　watch　her；　but　soon　they　got　tired　
of　it。　Bubber　was　the　only　one　who　would　watch　her　as　she　
came　out　to　dance。　He　would　sit　on　the　curb　and　yell　to　her　
when　he　saw　a　car　coming。　He　had　watched　Baby　do　her　
soiree　dance　a　hundred　times—but　summer　had　been　gone　for　
three　months　and　now　it　seemed　new　to　him　again。　
'I　sure　do　wish　I　had　a　costume；'　Bubber　said。　
'What　kind　do　you　want？'　
'A　real　cool　costume。　A　real　pretty　one　made　out　of　all　
different　colors。　Like　a　butterfly。　That's　what　I　want　for　
Christmas。　That　and　a　bicycle！'　
'Sissy；'　said　Spareribs。　
Bubber　hauled　the　big　rifle　up　to　his　shoulder　again　and　took　
aim　at　a　house　across　the　street。　'I'd　dance　around　in　

141　
my　costume　if　I　had　one。　I'd　wear　it　every　day　to　school。'　Mick　
sat　on　the　front　steps　and　kept　her　eyes　on　Ralph。　Bubber　
wasn't　a　sissy　like　Spareribs　said。　He　just　loved　pretty　things。　
She'd　better　not　let　old　Spareribs　get　away　with　that。　
'A　person's　got　to　fight　for　every　single　thing　they　get；'　she　


said　slowly。　'And　I've　noticed　a　lot　of　times　that　the　farther
down　a　kid　comes　in　the　family　the　better　the　kid　really　is。
Younger　kids　are　always　the　toughest。　I'm　pretty　hard　'cause
I've　a　lot　of　them　on　top　of　me。　Bubber　—he　looks　sick；　and
likes　pretty　things；　but　he's　got　guts　underneath　that。　If　all　this
is　true　Ralph　sure　ought　to　be　a　real　strong　one　when　he's　old
enough　to　get　around。　Even　though　he's　just　seventeen　months
old　I　can　read　something　hard　and　tough　in　that　Ralph's　face
already。
'
Ralph　looked　around　because　he　knew　he　was　being　talked
about。　Spareribs　sat　down　on　the　ground　and　grabbed　Ralph's
hat　off　his　head　and　shook　it　in　his　face　to　tease　him。
'AH　right！'　Mick　said。　'You　know　what　111　do　to　you　if　you
start　him　to　cry。　You　just　better　watch　out'
Everything　was　quiet。　The　sun　was　behind　the　roofs　of　the
houses　and　the　sky　in　the　west　was　purple　and　pink。　On　the
next　block　there　was　the　sound　of　kids　skating。　Bubber　leaned
up　against　a　tree　and　he　seemed　to　be　dreaming　about
something。　The　smell　of　supper　came　out　of　the　house　and　it
would　be　time　to　eat　soon。
'Lookit；'　Bubber　said　suddenly。　'Here　comes　Baby　again。　She
sure　is　pretty　in　the　pink　costume。
'
Baby　walked　toward　them　slowly。　She　had　been　given　a　prize
box　of　popcorn　candy　and　was　reaching　in　the　box　for　the
prize。　She　walked　in　that　same　prissy；　dainty　way。　You　could
tell　that　she　knew　they　were　all　looking　at　her。
'Please；　Baby'　Bubber　said　when　she　started　to
pass　them。　'Lemme　see　your　little　pink　pocketbook　and　touch
your　pink　costume。
'
Baby　started　humming　a　song　to　herself　and　did　not　listen。　She
passed　by　without　letting　Bubber　play　with　her。　She　only
ducked　her　head　and　grinned　at　him　a　little。
Bubber　still　had　the　big　rifle　up　to　his　shoulder。　He　made　
a
loud　pow　sound　and　pretended　like　he　had　shot　Then　he　called
to　Baby　again—in　a　soft；　sad　voice　like　he142


was　calling　a　little　kitty。　'Please；　Baby—come　here；
Baby
'
He　was　too　quick　for　Mick　to　stop　him。　She　had　just　seen　his
hand　on　the　trigger　when　there　was　the　terrible　ping　of　the



gun。　Baby　crumpled　down　to　the　sidewalk。　It　was　like　she　was　
nailed　to　the　steps　and　couldn't　move　or　scream。　Spareribs　had　
his　arm　up　over　his　head。　
Bubber　was　the　only　one　that　didn't　realize。　'Get　up；　Baby；'　he　
hollered。　'I　ain't　mad　with　you。'　
It　all　happened　in　a　second。　The　three　of　them　reached　Baby　at　
the　same　time。　She　lay　crumpled　down　on　the　dirty　sidewalk。　
Her　skirt　was　over　her　head；　showing　her　pink　panties　and　her　
little　white　legs。　Her　hands　were　open—in　one　there　was　the　
prize　from　the　candy　and　in　the　other　the　pocketbook。　There　
was　blood　all　over　her　hair　ribbon　and　the　top　of　her　yellow　
curls。　She　was　shot　in　the　head　and　her　face　was　turned　down　
toward　the　ground。　
So　much　happened　in　a　second。　Bubber　screamed　and　dropped　
the　gun　and　ran。　She　stood　with　her　hands　up　to　her　face　and　
screamed　too。　Then　there　were　many　people。　Her　Dad　was　the　
first　to　get　there。　He　carried　Baby　into　the　house。　
'She's　dead；'　said　Spareribs。　'She's　shot　through　the　eyes。　I　seen　
her　face。'　
Mick　walked　up　and　down　the　sidewalk；　and　her　tongue　stuck　
in　her　mouth　when　she　tried　to　ask　was　Baby　killed。　Mrs。　
Wilson　came　running　down　the　block　from　the　beauty　parlor　
where　she　worked。　She　went　into　the　house　and　came　back　out　
again。　She　walked　up　and　down　in　the　street；　crying　and