The Waterbury Democrat., 1938-06-06
CHAPTER VI

Now that was not like Joe Mur- ray, to go about truculent and bad tempered The circumstances were exceptional. He was goaded. and he had no way of working of steam. He was not acting be- cause Terry appealed to him and the appeal spurred him into ac- tion. What spurred him was her hollow hypocritical old man, and the grandparents, and Tommy Withers. His dislike of them all was poisonous. He could clip Tommy Withers, ana do a good job of it, hard and quick, with deep satisfaction in it, but you couldn't go push in and take your satisfaction out of a man old enough to be your father, or out of two old buzzards long over due in the nearest cemetery. That's where he was blocked and baffled.
 In way he was glad for Tom my Withers. Tommy had given him chance to work off the steam, some. Terry with her helpless, gay despair, was heading for cer- tain trouble; she had no eXperi- ence, no loving guidance, nothing worth preserving, worth being cautious for. There would be somebody exactly like Tommy Withers on hand when she ran into trouble. Joe did not set up to judge anybody, least of all any body like Terry, hungry for af- lection, starving for it, but that rubbed man raw. Somebody like Tommy Withers somebody flattering, smooth and kind and gentle on the surface. and yellow underneath yellow enough to take every advantage of that lonely kid, who would wilt and run like butter in your hands un- der the mere warmth of a little sympathy.
 Joe swore to himself suddenly swore at himself. What the hell? Whose business was this? What right had he getting steamed up oyer a stray strangers troubles? Was there no quiet anywhere? Hadn't he enough trouble of his own, without borrowing more?
 Behind Joe Murray's truculence, hi5 irritation, was fear. Those roots down deep in the darkness had been brushed by something in pass ing, the merest something that was gentlest contact with another hu- man, humble and hurt and alone. The fear was justifiable. In the stir ring of long allayed emotions, like a disturbing of mementoes in an old attic, raising the dust and food irg the air through the room with the particles, all of him was stirred, flooded with reminders, reminders lacking weight and sub- stance, all but the power to make him feel. He was seeing Helen again, whether he would or no, simply because his whole being was quickened. He was remem- bering many things; the simple, gentle way of Helen's home and her people, the genial, lusty and untroubled laughter, the working ard sleeping and eating and lov- ing the peace there was the peace upset only by the heart speeding sound of Helen's light voice, or the sight of her yellow hair in sunlight or the feel of her closeness in the night, the good, clean sweetness of her in the cool air like perfume.
 And she was gone, and the peace, and the sight and the sound and the smell of her sweet in his nostrils
 You see, it was coming spring again, and there never could be another spring ever like that one, except that all springs to come would always mock him with heir false shallow counterfeit of Ina tone. In spring he would all ways face torment, and in June, on certain day dedicated to courage and adventure and happy living with no thought for tomor- row. he would each year die little death all over again. Time would help, and pain would slowly, slowly dWindle, but all eternity would pass before he could live without feeling that pain to some lingering degree.
 Joe Murray cursed under his breath, and told no one anything of these things, and went out of the house into the streets and walked, and he carried those things with him like a load he would take far to bury deep away from his house. No one knew anything at all about it unless maybe Mrs. Murray guessed, for she sat in the darkness at the front window nights when he was gone like that and waited till she saw him come striding alone homeward on the street below when she hastened quickly back to bed before he could detect her.
 Early one evening Joe hap pened past Papkes drug store Standing in the doorway were Tommy Withers and Terry, talk ing. They stopped talking abruptly at sight of him; Withers made all almost imperceptible movement of retreat from her, and stood there waiting, and Terry merely looked at him with her big eyes, scared and questioning Joe walked up to them and rocked little on one heel, facing half away and indicating the direction down the block by jerk of the head.
 "Go on", he said. I'll be right after you"
 Without seconds hesitation walking of down the block and