Winesburg, Ohio: A Group of Tales of Ohio Small Town LifeAnderson, Sherwood
General
Winesburg, Ohio: A Group of Tales of Ohio Small Town Life
Anderson, Sherwood
City and town life -- Fiction; Ohio -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Pastoral fiction
“What a fool I was. When father gave me the money and tried to talk me
out of the thought of marriage, I would not listen. I thought of what
the girls who were married had said of it and I wanted marriage also.
It wasn’t Tom I wanted, it was marriage. When father went to sleep I
leaned out of the window and thought of the life I had led. I didn’t
want to be a bad woman. The town was full of stories about me. I even
began to be afraid Tom would change his mind.”
The woman’s voice began to quiver with excitement. To Doctor Reefy, who
without realizing what was happening had begun to love her, there came
an odd illusion. He thought that as she talked the woman’s body was
changing, that she was becoming younger, straighter, stronger. When he
could not shake off the illusion his mind gave it a professional twist.
“It is good for both her body and her mind, this talking,” he muttered.
The woman began telling of an incident that had happened one afternoon
a few months after her marriage. Her voice became steadier. “In the
late afternoon I went for a drive alone,” she said. “I had a buggy and
a little grey pony I kept in Moyer’s Livery. Tom was painting and
repapering rooms in the hotel. He wanted money and I was trying to make
up my mind to tell him about the eight hundred dollars father had given
to me. I couldn’t decide to do it. I didn’t like him well enough. There
was always paint on his hands and face during those days and he smelled
of paint. He was trying to fix up the old hotel, and make it new and
smart.”
The excited woman sat up very straight in her chair and made a quick
girlish movement with her hand as she told of the drive alone on the
spring afternoon. “It was cloudy and a storm threatened,” she said.
“Black clouds made the green of the trees and the grass stand out so
that the colors hurt my eyes. I went out Trunion Pike a mile or more
and then turned into a side road. The little horse went quickly along
up hill and down. I was impatient. Thoughts came and I wanted to get
away from my thoughts. I began to beat the horse. The black clouds
settled down and it began to rain. I wanted to go at a terrible speed,
to drive on and on forever. I wanted to get out of town, out of my
clothes, out of my marriage, out of my body, out of everything. I
almost killed the horse, making him run, and when he could not run any
more I got out of the buggy and ran afoot into the darkness until I
fell and hurt my side. I wanted to run away from everything but I
wanted to run towards something too. Don’t you see, dear, how it was?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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