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Tuesday, January 15, 2019

Divide by Two †Short Story Essay

They commence rotary pile a line of adobe blocks, three blocks roomy and two blocksdeep, across the lawn betwixt their cottage and ours, Belle said.Yes, I tell apart, I said. I walked into the window and stood there, expression over attheir cottage. The easygoing melody from the cottage came vigorous and calorie-free. I was here thismorning when he brought those blocks home. I peeled my shirt it was quaggy withsweat. He carried the blocks in the baggage compartment of their car. It took him allthree trips. He had three boys with him to help. I shake my shirt in the cooling air andwalked in my room. And I issue where he got those blocks, too. at that place is aconstruction going on dear now at engineering school. They restrain a pile of adobe blocksthere as gritty as the Cheops. You shtupt miss it. You catch out it from the busline everytime.In my room, the strains of mild music didnt reach sustainedly.Belle had followed me into my room. They lose marked murder b oundaries, shesaid. They have defined limits.I folded my shirt about the substantiate of the armchair. So they have, I said. So theyhave. My undershirt was wet, too. I yanked it impinge on.It is all as if they have devote up a fence, Belle said.Fences discover expert neighbors, I said. I whipped the apple-green towel off the T- bar and rubbed myself briskly.It might as well be the ample wall of China, Belle said.Well, no, non really, I said. It is not as bad as that. I re crouched the towel to thecrossbar. I timbreed around for a dry undershirt but did not find any.I went to the bedroom where my clothes-closet was. Belle followed me. There was no light in thecloset. The bulb hadnt been changed since it went bad shortly afterward we roleplayd into thecottage. I fumbled in the dark observeing with my fingers. In the evil in the closet thestrains of the flaccid came steadily, strong and clear.She is no Turk but she keeps vie the Turkish March, Belle said.I knew where my undershirts would be and it didnt take me long to find themwith my hands. I pulled one out and was putting it on while I walked moxie to the sala.It is unkind, inconsiderate, not neighborly, not nice, Belle said.I stopped beneath the light in the narrow passage from the bedroom to the sala between the book-closets and the bathroom, one arm through with(predicate) one armhole, half out of thesando shirt the neck of which I held sluttish with my hands. I looked at Belle. Comeagain, Belle? I asked.Belle said again the denunciatory words.I got my passing play through the armhole, got into the shirt. I walked on to the sala. Ididnt know how tired I was until I fell back on the lounging chair.Belle pick outed up the foot stool, brought it unspoilt my chair and sit surmount pop. The leastthing they could have wear upone was to tell us for the source time about it.I felt very tired and shut my eyeball and didnt say anything. foundert you envisage they owed it to us? Belle aske d. turn up of regards for our feelings shouldnt they have asked us how we feel about the fence?The piano music threaded through the words like leitmotif. How is that again,Belle? I asked.They have no regard for us, Belle said. They founding fathert c atomic number 18 what we think. Theydont header what we feel. As furthermost as they are c oncerned, we are not human.The piano came jubilantly threading through the words.Is that right, Belle? I asked.Dont you think they should at least have gone to us and said Look here, youWe are putting up this boundary, tell? You keep to your side of these markers and wewill keep to ours, sympathise?Belle asked.Do you really think that? I asked.Yes, I do, Belle said. Distinctly, dont you?I dont know. I said. I havent thought about it.Well, then, Belle said, think about it. You can start cerebration about it now.I wondered why now the words kept sound clear to me. Then I felt and sensedthat the piano had been stilled. Suddenly the dark was silent, suddenly the air was still.I rose from the lounging chair. I walked to the globe-traveler near the wall outlet, blocked the cord in and snapped the lid open. Belle followed me. I was contend therange disk for music when Belled leaned forward and snapped the lid shut.Whats the matter, Belle? I asked.Theres nothing the matter. Belle said.Well, then get off, I said. Get off them and get off me.Belle was silent for a moment. Then It is she, she said.What about her? I asked.I dont think she likes me, Belle said.She doesnt like anyone, I said. What makes you think so?I have given her things. Belle said. They dont seem to make an impression onher. I gave her discontinue on her last birthday. She didnt flush thank me.Why do you have to go around crowing people things for? I asked. possibly shedoesnt like cheese. Maybe the cheese wasnt much(prenominal) a good idea.She doesnt like me. Belle said.And she doesnt like anyone to like mewhen he gave me flowers from her garden, I don t think she liked that.Who would? I asked. Maybe the flowers werent such a good idea either.He was except being friendly as I was, Belle said.Oh, yes, I said.He was just now being neighborly as I believe in being, Belle said.Sure, sure, I said.But she doesnt like to be and I dont think she believes in being, Belle said.And I dont think she wants him to be either.Oh, well, Belle, I said. I dont really know them. It is you they really know.Oh, you do, too, Belle said. You ride with them too sometimes.I did that only once, I said. I rode with them on the front seat. She tapped himon the thigh when she got off at Pavilion 2. That was the last time.Did that bother you? Belle asked.Not that in itself, I said. solo the demonstrativeness as if to show that she ishis and he is hers.What about the demonstrativeness of puttering about her garden in very shortshorts? Belle asked.When you visited the area for the first time to see the cottages, was he tone atthe cottages too-and the third ti me? I asked.He was going to look at the cottages himself, Belle said. He was only beingfriendly.And the second time you looked at the cottages, he was looking at the cottagestoo-and the third time? I asked.That was for our going to be neighbors, Belle said.There are forty cottages in this area, I said. Why did we have to pick up thisone right next to theirs?It was as some(prenominal) your choice as it was mine, Belle said.So it was, I said. So it cant be helped.No, it cant, Belle said. totally right, then. Get off. Get off them and get off me, I said.But you must do something, Belle said.What about? I asked.They didnt set the adobe markers right, Belle said. They have been laidnearer our cottage than theirs. Their half of the lawn is bigger than ours.Is that right? I asked. I walked to the window. It wasnt too dark to see theadobe markers gleaming in the ghostly light. I motto the flowers, too-the roses, the zinnias,the dahlias, the African daisies-s rooming like specters in the n ight. walking back to mychair, I looked up at the clock. It was getting on a quarter to nine. The clock began tochime just as I got to the lounging chair. I sat down and put my feet up on the stool.Their half of the lawn is bigger than ours, Belle said.Maybe they need all the lawn they can get so she can industrial plant them all to flowers, Isaid.They havent divided the lawn fairly, Belle said.You mean the halves are not equal? The halves are not halves? I asked.Whats the matter with you? Belle said.Whats the matter with him? I asked. Isnt he a doctor of mathematics or something? A fine doctor of mathematics hes turned out to be if he cant plane divide bytwoWhats eating you? Belle asked.Maybe he should have brought a survey team with him and used a transit, a plumbline, and a pole, I said. Maybe he could divide by two then. Maybe he couldeven divide by ten.Dont tell me, Belle said, narrate him. narrate them.For crying out loud. I said.Go ahead, Belle said. Go over. Tell them o ff. Tell them where to get off.Get off, Belle, I said. Get off them.If you wont, I shall, Belle said.Get off me, I said.If you dont, I shall, Belle said. I shall right now.She started for the door.For crying out loud, Belle, I said. I dont know them well enough to speak tothem. I shall write them a tag.All right, Belle said.The portable typewriter was in the oddball under my bed. I set it up at the head of the dining table. When I pulled my hands a mode from lifting the case, they were coveredwith dust. I removed the lid but didnt take the machine off its base. The inside cornersof the lid were spun with cobwebs. There were webs between the machine and the ridgeof the base. I couldnt find any etiolated paper anywhere so I decided to use one sheet fromthe legal size round out of rules yellow paper.I didnt date the note. I made it short and to the point. It was bewitching to watchthe keys falling forward and then back leaving the black tag on the yellow sheet. As Ityped I compreh end the opening debar of Marriage of Figaro from the high fidelity radio- phonograph next door.(Mathematics and Mozart, I said. Mozart and Mathematics.)I typed on my name but didnt sign it. When I saw that I had not quite filled half the sheet, I folded it once and tore it in half. I fed the clean half back to the machine andhanded the other half to Belle. There you are. I said. Short and sweetish I hope helikes it.Belle read the note. After she finished, she didnt say a word. Is it all right? Iasked.Yes, Belle said. Then send it off, I said.All right, Belle said. She called Nata and had the note delivered at once.I didnt get to hear Mozart to the end of the night. About middle(a) through theopera (that would be after Face I of the long playing record), the player was snapped off.Then I saw him leave their cottage.I sat up tack in my chair and watched him head bob up and down as he walkedout to Finchshafen road.When he turned up the road and I knew where he was going, Istood up. I walked up to the screen door and watched him walk up the concrete walk tothe porch steps. He stopped at the foot of the stairs. I looked down through thewirescreen at his upturned face.Yes? I asked.Can I see you for a minute? he asked.Me? I asked.Yes, you, he said.Wont you come up? I asked.No, he said. Id much rather talk to you on the street.All right, I said. If thats the way you feel about it.I joined him at the foot of the porch steps. We walked down the cement walk together. As we went past the shelter of the cottage, a blow of the cold night air struck my face. I felt my leftover cheek twitching.Yes? I asked. Whats on your mind?We walked down Finchshafen road. He didnt say anything for a long time. Ilooked at him. I had never spoken to him forward. He considered a long time, longenough for me to be able to look back at the place to see if Belle was at the windowwatching.When he spoke, his first words were Have you and Belle been fighting? Itwas not only words, it was al so the way he said them my left cheek was twitching so badly it was almost spastic. He had spoken so softly and in such a low-pitched voice I barely heard him. It was as if he didnt wish either his abide or my business firm to hear as if we were conspirators both and we were plotting a conspiracy together.Fighting? I asked. What about? What for? What are you talking about? Isought his face for the guilt that could only be the mirror of the guilt in my own.We stood in Finchshafen road halway between out cottages we were waiting tocatch the guilt upon our faces which nonetheless we were mortally afraid to see? I stoodon the upper slope of the road towards our house and he stood on the lower slope in thedirection of his.Your note wasnt very friendly, he said. It wasnt very neighborly.Why should it be? I added. It wasnt meant to be.Oh, so, he said. It wasnt meant to be.You bet your life it wasnt, I said.Well, if thats the way you feel about it, he said.How else did you expect me to f eel? I asked.In that case then, he said. You can appeal to authority and I shall not move theadobe blocks an inch.For Christ sake, I said. Who is talking about authority? Who is talking aboutadobe blocks?Dont offer your voice, he said.Why shouldnt I raise my voice? I asked.Dont shout at me, he said.I shall shout at you if you please, I said.It was a cool clear lovely night. The sky was clear and cool and full of stars. Thesky and the stars seemed very far away but the air was clear and you could see all theway up to the sky and the stars and it seemed a long, long way. There was a very palemoon and a very cool wind was sweeping the pale moon and the white clouds before itall the way across the sky.Across and up and down Finchshafen road in the cottages, people were comingout of their porches to listen and to watch. I looked back at out house to see if Belle wasthere standing behind the window wirescreen and I looked at their house too.A plague on both our houses, I said.Belle wasnt on our porch when I looked I didnt hear her go down the porchsteps, down the concrete walk, out to and down Finchshafen road.I shouldnt even be talking to you this is pestilence, I said.I didnt feel Belle around until I heard her voice rising penetrating and clear and abovethe snarl of our voices.She was standing beside me and before him and shouting in hisface.For Christ sake, Belle, I said. Let go. This is mans work.She couldnt hear me.Her voice rose clear and passionate, piercing and shrill in the inviolate night. I pulled at her arm to make her turn to me. I thrust my face savagely before her.For Christ sake, Belle, I said. Get off. This is my fight and the adversary ismine.Belle couldnt see me for the fury that have her purely.I sought her face but couldnt look there long. tied(p) as I turned away I had afleeting glimpse of my state adversarys face the shock there was not more(prenominal) than theshock of mine.For Christ sake, Belle, let go. This is mans work. I have met the foe and heis mine. Let go, get off. This is my fight, not yours. The enemy is mine, I said as I pulled her and dragged her bodily away.

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