The Postman Always Rings Twice Read Free Page A

twisting my hand in both of hers. "Frank, do you love me?"
          "Yes."
          "Do you love me so much that not anything matters?"
          "Yes."
          "There's one way."
          "Did you say you weren't really a hell cat?"
          "I said it, and I mean it. I'm not what you think I am, Frank. I want to work and be something, that's all. But you can't do it without love. Do you know that, Frank? Anyway, a woman can't. Well, I've made one mistake. And I've got to be a hell cat, just once, to fix it. But I'm not really a hell cat, Frank."
          "They hang you for that."
          "Not if you do it right. You're smart, Frank. I never fooled you for a minute. You'll think of a way. Plenty of them have. Don't worry. I'm not the first woman that had to turn hell cat to get out of a mess."
          "He never did anything to me. He's all right."
          "The hell he's all right. He stinks, I tell you. He's greasy and he stinks. And do you think I'm going to let you wear a smock, with Service Auto Parts printed on the back, Thank-U Call Again, while he has four suits and a dozen silk shirts? Isn't that business half mine? Don't I cook? Don't I cook good? Don't you do your part?"
          "You talk like it was all right."
          "Who's going to know if it's all right or not, but you and me?"
          "You and me."
          "That's it, Frank. That's all that matters, isn't it? Not you and me and the road, or anything else but you and me."
          "You must be a hell cat, though. You couldn't make me feel like this if you weren't."
          "That's what we're going to do. Kiss me, Frank. On the mouth."
          I kissed her. Her eyes were shining up at me like two blue stars. It was like being in church.
     
     
    CHAPTER 4
     
          "Got any hot water?"
          "What's the matter with the bathroom?"
          "Nick's in there."
          "Oh. I'll give you some out of the kettle. He likes the whole heater full for his bath."
          We played it just like we would tell it. It was about ten o'clock at night, and we had closed up, and the Greek was in the bathroom, putting on his Saturday night wash. I was to take the water up to my room, get ready to shave, and then remember I had left the car out. I was to go outside, and stand by to give her one on the horn if somebody came. She was to wait till she heard him in the tub, go in for a towel, and clip him from behind with a blackjack I had made for her out of a sugar bag with ball bearings wadded down in the end. At first, I was to do it, but we figured he wouldn't pay any attention to her if she went in there, where if I said I was after my razor, he might get out of the tub or something and help me look. Then she was to hold him under until he drowned. Then she was to leave the water running a little bit, and step out the window to the porch roof, and come down the stepladder I had put there, to the ground. She was to hand me the blackjack, and go back to the kitchen. I was to put the ball bearings back in the box, throw the bag away, put the car in, and go up to my room and start to shave. She would wait till the water began dripping down in the kitchen, and call me. We would break the door down, find him, and call the doctor. In the end, we figured it would look like he had slipped in the tub, knocked himself out, and then drowned. I got the idea from a piece in the paper where a guy had said that most accidents happen right in people's own bathtubs.
          "Be careful of it. It's hot."
          "Thanks."
          It was in a saucepan, and I took it up in my room and set it on the bureau, and laid my shaving stuff out. I went down and out to the car, and took a seat in it so I could see the road and the bathroom window, both. The Greek was singing. It came to me I better take note what the song was. It was Mother Mach. ree. He sang it once, and then sang it over again. I looked in the