第15部分(第2/6 頁)

rassing　clatters　on　the　delicate　china。　The　forting　sound　of　voices　and　dinner　preparations　lulls　me　and　I　begin　to　caress　the　smooth；　cool　leather　of　Rebecca’s　new　shoes；　which　lie　in　my　lap。　With　each　touch；　I　relax；　I　let　go。　With　each　touch　I　remember　another　pair　of　shoes　so　long　ago。　Was　I　only　thirty…nine？　Impossible！　I　can　almost　hear　the　voice　that　called　to　me　as　I　stood　in　my　garden　on　that　scorching3　afternoon　in　that　relentless　summer　of　1935。

“Missus；　say；　Missus！”

The　husky　voice　startled　me　and　I　turned　quickly。　The　man　at　the　fence　was　young；　hardly　twenty；　with　blond　hair　tousled　like　a　little　boy’s。　His　clothes　were　dusty　and　rumpled；　and　I　eyed　him　warily。　I　often　saw　ragged；　tired；　solitary　men　pass　by　the　house　from　the　rail　yards　nearby；　men　off　the　freights；　men　moving　about　the　country；　looking　for　work。　My　Jack　was　out　there　somewhere；　too。

“Missus；　could　I　please　have　a　drink　of　water？”

“e　into　the　yard。”　I　called；　and　pointed　to　the　enameled　cup　that　hung　over　the　outdoor　tap。　I　had　just　filled　three　pails　of　water　for　my　garden　and　had　set　them　to　warm　in　the　sun。　The　tap　still　dripped。

He　drank　in　great　gulps；　swallowing　slowly；　and　then　splashed　water　on　his　face　and　ran　his　hands　over　his　dusty　hair　and　along　the　back　of　his　neck。　“That　feels　good；”　he　said；　by　way　of　thanks；　and　stood　there；　self…conscious　and　awkward；　a　sudden　tenseness　ing　over　him　when　he　noticed　the　pails　sitting　in　the　sun。

“Have　you　any　work　I　can　do　for　you？　Weed　and　water　your　garden？”

Some　garden！　The　bean　and　tomato　plants　struggled　to　survive　in　ground　that　was　hard　and　cracked；　and　the　sparse　patch　of　lawn　was　no　better。　What　work　could　I　offer　him？　The　house　required　a　coat　of　paint；　but　paint　cost　money；　and