Evening star., 1947-11-02
A Short Story


label the bottle clear final 1t spoke med
cine bottle labels generally do with the voice of authority
George Marsh the edge of his bed leaning into the light
from the kerosene lamp read the label again Outside the
sound OF rain on the palms blunt harsh whispering
like low voice monotonousy repeating ugly phrase The
label said that under circumstances should two capsules
be taken within twevehour period One capsule the
nights dose; there something in fine print about
effect and on.
He'd swallowed capsule at nine o'clock with
of water from the Clipped carae Then he'd turned in
slept for hour uneasily Now, ten he we'll not
wide awake No. His mind couded and cogged his head
felt heavy the WEAKNESS of his body bonedeep drag
gng physical pain He put the bottle of sleeping capsules on
the table beside his bed stood it the spear of yellow light
where already dozen moths dipped wheeled looked at it
uncertainty for minute then he got up and walked
the room to the wide window
Rain He listened to the rain.
In next Paterson sleeping heavily. Marsh
could hear above the sound of a his raspg breath Pater
had taken capsule at nine O'clock from his
bottle the bathroom shelf For two weeks had been this
way. Paterson slept; Marsh did not.
1t nfurating maddening, and he knew thing
of Nerves.! 1t this damned hot wndess country
He should have stayed in the north he hated the fierce
and the persistent rains The words shaped in his mind He
hated the rains and he hated Paterson Certainly Paterson
hated him. Its thing of nerves." he said aloud
Or he afraid of Paterson? Afraid of the quick savage
strength of Paterson? He turned away from the window but
could not shut the sound of rain out of his ear.
The rains had begun schedule in June First they
only the furnace heat of the oppressive night but the
advanced did the hour of rainfall In the third week
the clouds slipped like tar like lava down the
before time obscung the sky with ragged black
CURTAIN later the violence of started in early afternoon
lasted until dawn The plantation became sea of mud
NOTHING dry, everything sweated Mud flowed from
the hills and turned the river into something quite liquid
Though first they took pains be clean about the
house. using scapers their caked boots neither Marsh
Paterson could achieve real victory the rain
the mud Soon they stopped caring They tracked mud
the tiles of the veranda They flung themselves down when
they got in from the rubber fields and mud smeared the
couches.
Three months" Marsh said tightly night Three
months before the rains will stop"
Shut upi Paterson shouted Shut up about the rains
Marsh shut up And in that moment he'd realized with
shocked astonshment that Paterson hated him. He'd seen
looking the other mans eyes, the open contempt that
Paterson felt for him.
They'd got along pretty well when they both out
from the States almost year ago. Not that Paterson
Marsh would ever have warmed to. Paterson by
uncommunicatve somber he had of brutality
in him you could it in the way he handled the native
labor gangs
But they would have been able live together even in
the close confinement of that remote plantation it hadn't
been for the visit of the field inspector from the corporations
home Office in Ohio The Inspector who late May,
just before the rains found fault with their work He'd
been complimentary. And he'd said, bottle the
night before he left I'm going report you're doing good