Nobody's Family is Going to Change Read Free Page B

book?”
    â€œFrom the library.”
    â€œWhat is your question?”
    â€œIn New York State, do you feel there is adequate legal protection of women in cases of rape?”
    â€œEmma!” Mrs. Sheridan put down her knitting.
    Mr. Sheridan ignored his wife. “What are you asking?” He looked at Emma.
    â€œThe burden of proof seems to be on the woman. She has to have a witness. How many people are going to rape somebody when witnesses are around?”
    â€œThat law has been repealed.”
    â€œOh?”
    â€œDidn’t know that, did you?” Mr. Sheridan looked immensely satisfied. “At any rate, there was a good reason for that law. The accusation of rape is very grave. A man is being accused of a heinous crime. It cannot be done lightly.”
    â€œBut he’d have to do it in broad daylight in the middle of the street to get enough witnesses to say—Anyway, rape is very grave.”
    â€œAs I said before, that law has been repealed. Any other questions?” His voice was cold.
    â€œYes. If a woman is raped by an FBI man, does it come under federal law?”
    â€œI don’t believe the question has ever come up. You would have to look up the law on that.”
    â€œThank you.” Emma had said this politely, had picked up her book and thumped away. She had heard her parents’ short exchange as she went down the hall to her room.
    â€œWhy are you so cold with her?” asked Mrs. Sheridan. “Her questions seem reasonable enough.”
    â€œYou don’t understand. Her questions are those of a law-school student. I sometimes get the strange idea that she could pass the bar exam right now—”
    â€œBut aren’t you proud?” It was one of her mother’s rare interruptions.
    â€œâ€”and she thinks she’d get a better mark than I did.” Her father finished on a note of despair.
    Afraid of me, is he, thought Emma, progressing down the street toward her apartment house, having decided that the best thing to do about Willie was ignore him. Anybody who worked that hard for applause ought to be shook up not getting any.
    â€œBut if your daughter is bright and will be a fine lawyer someday, I should think that would make you very happy.”
    â€œWomen lawyers!” her father had answered with a sneer. “Why couldn’t it have been Willie?”
    Emma let her mind sift around the pain this had caused and, like a forty-niner panning for gold, came up with a familiar stab. She let herself give way to the stab for a fleeting second as she walked into the elevator, but with the change of light and the motion of ascension she let this turn, as it always did, into the just as familiar but far more comfortable feeling of determined anger.
    As the elevator rose from floor to floor, she felt her resolve mount too. I will show him. I will make it clear to him that he has made a mistake.
    I will bring it all out into the open, she said to herself, as the elevator stopped at her floor, and as the door rolled back, I will do it tonight. I will tell him that I want to go to law school and that, if he won’t send me, I will geta scholarship and how will that make him look to his fat friends in the Bar Association?

    After the vision of his father looking ashamed, Willie stopped dancing. He collapsed on the bed, chewing thoughtfully. He felt terrible. He felt unfaithful to his father. He didn’t want to be with his father at all. He wanted to be with Dipsey, or Nick, or anybody who liked dancing. He would have gone off, at that moment, with a perfect stranger. If only a perfect stranger would come to the door, would knock, would enter, would say, “You have a job. Come with me. We can use a dancer like you. These people don’t understand. These people are not your kind of people. Come with us,” and take him by the hand and lead him away.
    There would never be any perfect stranger at the door. He would never