Recoil Read Free Page B

understand,” I said. “I’ll try not to bother you.”
    “Well, don’t get corked up. You’ll need a lot of help in getting squared away and I’m glad to give it. I just don’t want you upsetting yourself and me with senseless fretting.”
    We said goodnight.
    I began to undress, wondering what made him tick, and why the ticks were as they were. It settled down to who he really was—the threatening, cold-eyed man who had bullied Burkman, or the man who had been angry over the pollution of a river and ashamed of being part of the general pattern of pollution.
    Whichever was the case, one thing was certain: he was a considerable improvement over Warden Fish. Whatever happened to me, nothing could be worse than being back in Sandstone. I would be better off dead than there.
    I went to sleep on that thought.

4
    T he little alarm clock at my bedside went off at seven, and after I had showered and was shaving, another white-jacketed Negro wheeled in a breakfast cart.
    He introduced himself as Henry, and made a polite but reserved mention of the fact that he was Willie’s brother. He was in and out of the room in five minutes, including the time it took to remove the silver covers from the dishes, fill my cup with coffee, and prop a morning paper against the pot.
    I slipped into my clothes and sat down at the table.
    Doc’s cook, apparently, was as topnotch as his other servants. There were tiny hot biscuits; sectioned grapefruit packed in shaved ice; oatmeal cooked so that each flake was separate from the others; and a golden and puffy bacon omelet that was almost light enough to float.
    Doc had me drive his sedan into town. I was a little reluctant to try it but he insisted, and it was easy enough after I got used to the steering-wheel gear shift.
    I hadn’t been in Capital City since my senior year in high school. At that time it had been a big sprawling town with a great many parks, clean wide streets, and modest, comfortable appearing homes. Now the streets were jammed and dirty; two and sometimes three shacks stood on a lot once occupied by a single neat cottage; and the parks were islands of oil well derricks, surrounded by barbed-wire fences. There were fine homes, certainly; some of them occupying an entire block with their wide, well-kept lawns. But they pointed up, rather than detracted from, the general picture of decay and squalor.
    I put the car on a parking lot Doc directed me to, and we sat there several minutes while he turned through the paper. At last he folded it carelessly, tossed it into the back seat and took out his wallet.
    “Here’s forty dollars, Pat. It’ll give you something to rattle until payday.”
    “I—”
    “I know. You’re grateful. And you hope to show your appreciation. And if I see an opportunity for you to do so, for this or any other favor, past or impending, I’ll let you know. Anything else?”
    “I was going to thank you,” I said, “but I guess I’d better not.”
    “You just have. Now let’s see about some clothes.”
    We crossed the street and walked up to the corner where he led me to the entrance of a store.
    A tall gray-haired man in a black coat and striped pants strolled out to us.
    “Ah, Doctor,” he said. “I hope we’re to be allowed to serve you in some way?”
    Doc shook hands with him indifferently. “I think I’ll let you take care of my friend,” he said. “This is Mr. Cosgrove, Williams.”
    “It will be a pleasure,” Williams beamed, giving my hand a tender shake. He didn’t seem to notice my clothes.
    “Mr. Cosgrove has been ill for a long time,” Doc went on. “He’ll need a complete outfitting, but we have an appointment within the hour. Can you fix him up in something casual immediately, and get his measurements for a couple of suits and whatever he needs in the way of accessories? Send it out to the house later.”
    “Certainly,” said Williams. “We’ll be very prompt with Mr. Cosgrove. Now, if I may show you