Page 114 of East of Eden

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The boys became cautious as humans always are, faced with a new situation. After a pause Aron admitted, “Yes, sir.”

“Did you get anything?”

This time a longer pause, and then, “Yes, sir.”

“What did you get?”

“A rabbit.”

“With bows and arrows? Who got him?”

Aron said, “We both shot. We don’t know which one hit.”

Adam said, “Don’t you know your own arrows? We used to mark our arrows when I was a boy.”

This time Aron refused to answer and get into trouble. And Cal, after waiting, said, “Well, it was my arrow, all right, but we think it might have got in Aron’s quiver.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know,” Cal said. “But I think it was Aron hit the rabbit.”

Adam swung his eyes. “And what do you think?”

“I think maybe I hit it—but I’m not sure.”

“Well, you both seem to handle the situation very well.”

The alarm went out of the faces of the boys. It did not seem to be a trap.

“Where is the rabbit?” Adam asked.

Cal said, “Aron gave it to Abra as a present.”

“She threw it out,” said Aron.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I wanted to marry her too.”

“You did?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How about you, Cal?”

“I guess I’ll let Aron have her,” said Cal.

Adam laughed, and the boys could not recall ever having heard him laugh. “Is she a nice little girl?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” said Aron. “She’s nice, all right. She’s good and nice.”

“Well, I’m glad of that if she’s going to be my daughter-in-law.”

Lee cleared the table and after a quick rattling in the kitchen he came back. “Ready to go to bed?” he asked the boys.

They glared in protest. Adam said, “Sit down and let them stay a while.”

“I’ve got the accounts together. We can go over them later,” said Lee.

“What accounts, Lee?”

“The house and ranch accounts. You said you wanted to know where you stood.”

“Not the accounts for over ten years, Lee!”

“You never wanted to be bothered before.”

“I guess that’s right. But sit a while. Aron wants to marry the little girl who was here today.”

“Are they engaged?” Lee asked.

“I don’t think she’s accepted him yet,” said Adam. “That may give us some time.”

Cal had quickly lost his awe of the changed feeling in the house and had been examining this anthill with calculating eyes, trying to determine just how to kick it over. He made his decision.

“She’s a real nice girl,” he said. “I like her. Know why? Well, she said to ask you where our mother’s grave is, so we can take some flowers.”

“Could we, Father?” Aron asked. “She said she would teach us how to make wreaths.”

Adam’s mind raced. He was not good at lying to begin with, and he hadn’t practiced. The solution frightened him, it came so quickly to his mind and so glibly to his tongue. Adam said, “I wish we could do that, boys. But I’ll have to tell you. Your mother’s grave is clear across the country where she came from.”

“Why?” Aron asked.

“Well, some people want to be buried in the place they came from.”

“How did she get there?” Cal asked. “We put her on a train and sent her home—didn’t we, Lee?”

Lee nodded. “It’s the same with us,” he said. “Nearly all Chinese get sent home to China after they die.”

“I know that,” said Aron. “You told us that before.”

“Did I?” Lee asked.

“Sure you did,” said Cal. He was vaguely disappointed.

Adam quickly changed the subject. “Mr. Bacon made a suggestion this afternoon,” he began. “I’d like you boys to think about it. He said it might be better for you if we moved to Salinas—better schools and lots of other children to play with.”

The thought stunned the twins. Cal asked, “How about here?”

“Well, we’d keep the ranch in case we want to come back.”

Aron said, “Abra lives in Salinas.” And that was enough for Aron. Already he had forgotten the sailing box. All he could think of was a small apron and a sunbonnet and soft little fingers.

Adam said, “Well, you think about it. Maybe you should go to bed now. Why didn’t you go to school today?”

“The teacher’s sick,” said Aron.

Lee verified it. “Miss Gulp has been sick for three days,” he said. “They don’t have to go back until Monday. Come on, boys.”

They followed him obediently from the room.

2

Adam sat smiling vaguely at the lamp and tapping his knee with a forefinger until Lee came back. Adam said, “Do they know anything?”

“I don’t know,” said Lee.

“Well, maybe it was just the little girl.”

Lee went to the kitchen and brought back a big cardboard box. “Here are the accounts. Every year has a rubber band around it. I’ve been over it. It’s complete.”

“You mean all accounts?”

Lee said, “You’ll find a book for each year and receipted bills for everything. You wanted to know how you stood. Here it is—all of it. Do you really think you’ll move?”

“Well, I’m thinking of it.”

“I wish there were some way you could tell the boys the truth.”

“That would rob them of the good thoughts about their mother, Lee.”

“Have you thought of the other danger?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, suppose they find out the truth. Plenty of people know.”

“Well, maybe when they’re older it will be easier for them.”

“I don’t believe that,” said Lee. “But that’s not the worst danger.”

“I guess I don’t follow you, Lee.”

“It’s the lie I’m thinking of. It might infect everything. If they ever found out you’d lied to them about this, the true things would suffer. They wouldn’t believe anything then.”

“Yes, I see. But what can I tell them? I couldn’t tell them the whole truth.”


Tags: John Steinbeck Classics