CHAPTER XXXVI

by Sinclair Lewis

　　KENNICOTT was not so inhumanly patient that he could continue to forgiveCarol's heresies, to woo her as he had on the venture to California. Shetried to be inconspicuous, but she was betrayed by her failure to glowover the boosting. Kennicott believed in it; demanded that she saypatriotic things about the White Way and the new factory. He snorted,"By golly, I've done all I could, and now I expect you to play the game.Here you been complaining for years about us being so poky, and now whenBlausser comes along and does stir up excitement and beautify the townlike you've always wanted somebody to, why, you say he's a roughneck,and you won't jump on the band-wagon."Once, when Kennicott announced at noon-dinner, "What do you knowabout this! They say there's a chance we may get anotherfactory--cream-separator works!" he added, "You might try to lookinterested, even if you ain't!" The baby was frightened by the Jovianroar; ran wailing to hide his face in Carol's lap; and Kennicott had tomake himself humble and court both mother and child. The dim injusticeof not being understood even by his son left him irritable. He feltinjured.An event which did not directly touch them brought down his wrath.In the early autumn, news came from Wakamin that the sheriff hadforbidden an organizer for the National Nonpartisan League to speakanywhere in the county. The organizer had defied the sheriff, andannounced that in a few days he would address a farmers' politicalmeeting. That night, the news ran, a mob of a hundred business menled by the sheriff--the tame village street and the smug village facesruddled by the light of bobbing lanterns, the mob flowing between thesquatty rows of shops--had taken the organizer from his hotel, riddenhim on a fence-rail, put him on a freight train, and warned him not toreturn.The story was threshed out in Dave Dyer's drug store, with Sam Clark,Kennicott, and Carol present."That's the way to treat those fellows--only they ought to have lynchedhim!" declared Sam, and Kennicott and Dave Dyer joined in a proud "Youbet!"Carol walked out hastily, Kennicott observing her.Through supper-time she knew that he was bubbling and would soon boilover. When the baby was abed, and they sat composedly in canvas chairson the porch, he experimented; "I had a hunch you thought Sam was kindof hard on that fellow they kicked out of Wakamin.""Wasn't Sam rather needlessly heroic?""All these organizers, yes, and a whole lot of the German andSquarehead farmers themselves, they're seditious as the devil--disloyal,non-patriotic, pro-German pacifists, that's what they are!""Did this organizer say anything pro-German?""Not on your life! They didn't give him a chance!" His laugh was stagey."So the whole thing was illegal--and led by the sheriff! Precisely howdo you expect these aliens to obey your law if the officer of the lawteaches them to break it? Is it a new kind of logic?""Maybe it wasn't exactly regular, but what's the odds? They knew thisfellow would try to stir up trouble. Whenever it comes right down to aquestion of defending Americanism and our constitutional rights, it'sjustifiable to set aside ordinary procedure.""What editorial did he get that from?" she wondered, as she protested,"See here, my beloved, why can't you Tories declare war honestly? Youdon't oppose this organizer because you think he's seditious butbecause you're afraid that the farmers he is organizing will deprive youtownsmen of the money you make out of mortgages and wheat and shops.Of course, since we're at war with Germany, anything that any one of usdoesn't like is 'pro-German,' whether it's business competition orbad music. If we were fighting England, you'd call the radicals'pro-English.' When this war is over, I suppose you'll be calling them'red anarchists.' What an eternal art it is--such a glittery delightfulart--finding hard names for our opponents! How we do sanctify ourefforts to keep them from getting the holy dollars we want forourselves! The churches have always done it, and the politicalorators--and I suppose I do it when I call Mrs. Bogart a 'Puritan' andMr. Stowbody a 'capitalist.' But you business men are going to beat allthe rest of us at it, with your simple-hearted, energetic, pompous----"She got so far only because Kennicott was slow in shaking off respectfor her. Now he bayed:"That'll be about all from you! I've stood for your sneering at thistown, and saying how ugly and dull it is. I've stood for your refusingto appreciate good fellows like Sam. I've even stood for your ridiculingour Watch Gopher Prairie Grow campaign. But one thing I'm not goingto stand: I'm not going to stand my own wife being seditious. You cancamouflage all you want to, but you know darn well that these radicals,as you call 'em, are opposed to the war, and let me tell you right hereand now, and you and all these long-haired men and short-haired womencan beef all you want to, but we're going to take these fellows, and ifthey ain't patriotic, we're going to make them be patriotic. And--Lordknows I never thought I'd have to say this to my own wife--but if you godefending these fellows, then the same thing applies to you! Next thing,I suppose you'll be yapping about free speech. Free speech! There's toomuch free speech and free gas and free beer and free love and all therest of your damned mouthy freedom, and if I had my way I'd make youfolks live up to the established rules of decency even if I had to takeyou----""Will!" She was not timorous now. "Am I pro-German if I fail to throb toHonest Jim Blausser, too? Let's have my whole duty as a wife!"He was grumbling, "The whole thing's right in line with the criticismyou've always been making. Might have known you'd oppose any decentconstructive work for the town or for----""You're right. All I've done has been in line. I don't belong to GopherPrairie. That isn't meant as a condemnation of Gopher Prairie, and itmay be a condemnation of me. All right! I don't care! I don't belonghere, and I'm going. I'm not asking permission any more. I'm simplygoing."He grunted. "Do you mind telling me, if it isn't too much trouble, howlong you're going for?""I don't know. Perhaps for a year. Perhaps for a lifetime.""I see. Well, of course, I'll be tickled to death to sell out mypractise and go anywhere you say. Would you like to have me go with youto Paris and study art, maybe, and wear velveteen pants and a woman'sbonnet, and live on spaghetti?""No, I think we can save you that trouble. You don't quite understand.I am going--I really am--and alone! I've got to find out what my workis----""Work? Work? Sure! That's the whole trouble with you! You haven't gotenough work to do. If you had five kids and no hired girl, and had tohelp with the chores and separate the cream, like these farmers' wives,then you wouldn't be so discontented.""I know. That's what most men--and women--like you WOULD say. That's howthey would explain all I am and all I want. And I shouldn't argue withthem. These business men, from their crushing labors of sitting in anoffice seven hours a day, would calmly recommend that I have a dozenchildren. As it happens, I've done that sort of thing. There've been agood many times when we hadn't a maid, and I did all the housework, andcared for Hugh, and went to Red Cross, and did it all very efficiently.I'm a good cook and a good sweeper, and you don't dare say I'm not!""N-no, you're----""But was I more happy when I was drudging? I was not. I was justbedraggled and unhappy. It's work--but not my work. I could runan office or a library, or nurse and teach children. But solitarydish-washing isn't enough to satisfy me--or many other women. We'regoing to chuck it. We're going to wash 'em by machinery, and come outand play with you men in the offices and clubs and politics you'vecleverly kept for yourselves! Oh, we're hopeless, we dissatisfied women!Then why do you want to have us about the place, to fret you? So it'sfor your sake that I'm going!""Of course a little thing like Hugh makes no difference!""Yes, all the difference. That's why I'm going to take him with me.""Suppose I refuse?""You won't!"Forlornly, "Uh----Carrie, what the devil is it you want, anyway?""Oh, conversation! No, it's much more than that. I think it's agreatness of life--a refusal to be content with even the healthiestmud.""Don't you know that nobody ever solved a problem by running away fromit?""Perhaps. Only I choose to make my own definition of 'running away' Idon't call----Do you realize how big a world there is beyond this GopherPrairie where you'd keep me all my life? It may be that some day I'llcome back, but not till I can bring something more than I have now. Andeven if I am cowardly and run away--all right, call it cowardly, call meanything you want to! I've been ruled too long by fear of being calledthings. I'm going away to be quiet and think. I'm--I'm going! I have aright to my own life.""So have I to mine!""Well?""I have a right to my life--and you're it, you're my life! You've madeyourself so. I'm damned if I'll agree to all your freak notions, but Iwill say I've got to depend on you. Never thought of that complication,did you, in this 'off to Bohemia, and express yourself, and free love,and live your own life' stuff!""You have a right to me if you can keep me. Can you?"He moved uneasily.IIFor a month they discussed it. They hurt each other very much, andsometimes they were close to weeping, and invariably he used banalphrases about her duties and she used phrases quite as banal aboutfreedom, and through it all, her discovery that she really could getaway from Main Street was as sweet as the discovery of love. Kennicottnever consented definitely. At most he agreed to a public theory thatshe was "going to take a short trip and see what the East was like inwartime."She set out for Washington in October--just before the war ended.She had determined on Washington because it was less intimidating thanthe obvious New York, because she hoped to find streets in which Hughcould play, and because in the stress of war-work, with its demand forthousands of temporary clerks, she could be initiated into the world ofoffices.Hugh was to go with her, despite the wails and rather extensive commentsof Aunt Bessie.She wondered if she might not encounter Erik in the East but it was achance thought, soon forgotten.IIIThe last thing she saw on the station platform was Kennicott, faithfullywaving his hand, his face so full of uncomprehending loneliness that hecould not smile but only twitch up his lips. She waved to him as longas she could, and when he was lost she wanted to leap from the vestibuleand run back to him. She thought of a hundred tendernesses she hadneglected.She had her freedom, and it was empty. The moment was not the highestof her life, but the lowest and most desolate, which was altogetherexcellent, for instead of slipping downward she began to climb.She sighed, "I couldn't do this if it weren't for Will's kindness, hisgiving me money." But a second after: "I wonder how many women wouldalways stay home if they had the money?"Hugh complained, "Notice me, mummy!" He was beside her on the red plushseat of the day-coach; a boy of three and a half. "I'm tired of playingtrain. Let's play something else. Let's go see Auntie Bogart.""Oh, NO! Do you really like Mrs. Bogart?""Yes. She gives me cookies and she tells me about the Dear Lord. Younever tell me about the Dear Lord. Why don't you tell me about theDear Lord? Auntie Bogart says I'm going to be a preacher. Can I be apreacher? Can I preach about the Dear Lord?""Oh, please wait till my generation has stopped rebelling before yoursstarts in!""What's a generation?""It's a ray in the illumination of the spirit.""That's foolish." He was a serious and literal person, and ratherhumorless. She kissed his frown, and marveled:"I am running away from my husband, after liking a Swedish ne'er-do-welland expressing immoral opinions, just as in a romantic story. And my ownson reproves me because I haven't given him religious instruction. Butthe story doesn't go right. I'm neither groaning nor being dramaticallysaved. I keep on running away, and I enjoy it. I'm mad with joy over it.Gopher Prairie is lost back there in the dust and stubble, and I lookforward----"She continued it to Hugh: "Darling, do you know what mother and you aregoing to find beyond the blue horizon rim?""What?" flatly."We're going to find elephants with golden howdahs from which peep youngmaharanees with necklaces of rubies, and a dawn sea colored like thebreast of a dove, and a white and green house filled with books andsilver tea-sets.""And cookies?""Cookies? Oh, most decidedly cookies. We've had enough of bread andporridge. We'd get sick on too many cookies, but ever so much sicker onno cookies at all.""That's foolish.""It is, O male Kennicott!""Huh!" said Kennicott II, and went to sleep on her shoulder.IVThe theory of the Dauntless regarding Carol's absence:Mrs. Will Kennicott and son Hugh left on No. 24 on Saturday last fora stay of some months in Minneapolis, Chicago, New York and Washington.Mrs. Kennicott confided to _Ye Scribe_ that she will be connected with oneof the multifarious war activities now centering in the Nation'sCapital for a brief period before returning. Her countless friends whoappreciate her splendid labors with the local Red Cross realize howvaluable she will be to any war board with which she chooses to becomeconnected. Gopher Prairie thus adds another shining star to its serviceflag and without wishing to knock any neighboring communities, we wouldlike to know any town of anywheres near our size in the state that hassuch a sterling war record. Another reason why you'd better Watch GopherPrairie Grow.* * *Mr. and Mrs. David Dyer, Mrs. Dyer's sister, Mrs. Jennie Dayborn ofJackrabbit, and Dr. Will Kennicott drove to Minniemashie on Tuesday fora delightful picnic.