We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

Author:Shirley Jackson
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Publisher: Penguin Group USA, Inc.
Published: 2011-03-17T16:00:00+00:00

He sat across from me at dinner, in our father’s chair, with his big white face blotting out the silver on the sideboard behind him. He watched while Constance cut up Uncle Julian’s chicken and put it correctly on the plate, and he watched when Uncle Julian took the first bite and turned it over and over in his mouth.

“Here is a biscuit, Uncle Julian,” Constance said. “Eat the soft inside.”

Constance had forgotten and put dressing on my salad, but I would not have eaten anyway with that big white face watching. Jonas, who was not allowed chicken, sat on the floor beside my chair.

“Does he always eat with you?” Charles asked once, nodding his head at Uncle Julian.

“When he’s well enough,” Constance said.

“I wonder how you stand it,” Charles said.

“I tell you, John,” Uncle Julian said suddenly to Charles, “investments are not what they were when Father made his money. He was a shrewd man, but he never understood that times change.”

“Who’s he talking to?” Charles asked Constance.

“He thinks you are his brother John.”

Charles looked at Uncle Julian for a long minute, and then shook his head and returned to his chicken.

“That was my dead wife’s chair on your left, young man,” Uncle Julian said. “I well recall the last time she sat there; we—”

“None of that,” Charles said, and shook his finger at Uncle Julian; he had been holding his chicken in his hands to eat it, and his finger sparkled with grease. “We’re not going to talk about it any more, Uncle.”

Constance was pleased with me because I had come to the table and when I looked at her she smiled at me. She knew that I disliked eating when anyone was watching me, and she would save my plate and bring it to me later in the kitchen; she did not remember, I saw, that she had put dressing on my salad.

“Noticed this morning,” Charles said, taking up the platter of chicken and looking into it carefully, “that there was a broken step out back. How about I fix it for you one of these days? I might as well earn my keep.”

“It would be very kind of you,” Constance said. “That step has been a nuisance for a long time.”

“And I want to run into the village to get some pipe tobacco, so I can pick up anything you need there.”

“But I go to the village on Tuesday,” I said, startled.

“You do?” He looked at me across the table, big white face turned directly at me. I was quiet; I remembered that walking to the village was the first step on Charles’ way home.

“Merricat, dear, I think if Charles doesn’t mind it might be a good idea. I never feel quite comfortable when you’re away in the village.” Constance laughed. “I’ll give you a list, Charles, and the money, and you shall be the grocery boy.”

“You keep the money in the house?”

“Of course.”

“Doesn’t sound very wise.”

“It’s in Father’s safe.”

“Even so.”

“I assure you, sir,” Uncle Julian said, “I made a point of examining the books thoroughly before committing myself.

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