Our Story Begins by Wolff Tobias

Author:Wolff, Tobias [Wolff, Tobias]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Vintage
Published: 2008-03-24T16:00:00+00:00

The next night they went bowling. This was Mary Ann’s idea. She was a good bowler and frankly out to win. Whenever she got a strike she threw her head back and gave a shout of triumph. She questioned Gilbert’s scorekeeping until he got rattled and told her to take over, which she did without even a show of protest. When she guttered her ball she claimed she’d slipped on a wet spot and insisted on bowling that frame again. He didn’t let her, he understood that she’d despise him if he did, but her shamelessness somehow made him happier than he’d been all day.

As he pulled up to her house Mary Ann said, “Next time I’ll give you some pointers. You’d be half decent if you knew what you were doing.”

Hearing that “next time,” he killed the engine and turned and looked at her. “Mary Ann,” he said.

He had never said so much before.

She looked straight ahead and didn’t answer. Then she said, “I’m thirsty. You want a glass of juice or something?” Before Gilbert could say anything, she added, “We’ll have to sit outside, okay? I think we woke my dad up last night.”

He waited on the steps while Mary Ann went into the house. Paint cans and brushes were arranged on top of the porch railing. Captain McCoy scraped and painted one side of the house every year. This year he was doing the front. That was just like him, to eke it out one side at a time. Gilbert had once helped the Captain make crushed ice for drinks. The way the Captain did it, he’d hold a single cube in his hand and clobber it with a hammer until it was pulverized. Then another cube. Then another. Et cetera. When Gilbert wrapped a whole tray’s worth in a hand towel and started whacking it against the counter, the Captain grabbed the towel away from him. “That’s not how you do it!” he said. He found Gilbert another hammer, and the two of them stood there hitting cube after cube.

Mary Ann came out with two glasses of orange juice. She sat beside Gilbert and they drank and looked out at the Buick gleaming under the streetlight.

“I’m off tomorrow,” Gilbert said. “You want to go for a drive?”

“Gee, I wish I could. I promised my dad I’d paint the fence.”

“We’ll paint, then.”

“That’s all right. It’s your day off. You should do something.”

“Painting’s something.”

“Something you like, dummy.”

“I like to paint. In fact I love painting.”

“Gilbert.”

“No kidding, I love to paint. Ask my folks. Every free minute, I’m out there with a brush.”

“Like fun.”

“So what time do we start? Look, it’s only been three hours since I did my last fence, and already my hand’s starting to shake.”

“Stop it! I don’t know. Whenever. After breakfast.”

He finished his juice and rolled the glass between his hands. “Mary Ann.” He felt her hesitate.

“Yes?”

He kept rolling the glass. “What do your folks think about us going out so much?”

“They don’t mind. I think they’re glad, actually.

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