The Graduate Page 4

  “Here we go,” Mr. Braddock said. He began pushing him toward the stairs.

  “Goddammit Dad!”

  “Here we go,” he said, pushing him up the stairs. “Happy birthday. Happy birthday.”

  “Dad I don’t—”

  “I’ll give you three minutes to get it on,” Mr. Braddock said. He turned around and walked back into the living room. Benjamin stood a moment on the stairs with his arms wrapped around the equipment, then carried it up and into the bathroom. “Jesus Christ,” he said, throwing it on the floor. He shook his head and kicked off his shoes. Then he removed the rest of his clothes and sat down on the toilet. He tugged the rubber legs up around his own legs and forced his arms into the rubber arms and pulled up the zipper across his chest. He fixed the black rubber hood over his head and was about to return downstairs when he happened to glance out the bathroom window and into the back yard.

  “Oh my God,” he said.

  The Arnolds and his mother were seated in metal chairs at one side of the pool. The two children were running back and forth on the grass. Standing at the other side of the pool were the Lewises, the other next-door neighbors and their teenaged daughter, and a man and a woman whom Benjamin had never seen before, standing beside them on the lawn holding drinks. At the rear of the yard the neighbors from in back were at the fence with their son. Benjamin pushed up the window.

  “Say Dad?” he said.

  Mr. Braddock was pulling a final chair up beside the pool.

  “Hey Dad! Could I see you a minute!”

  Mr. Braddock looked up at the window and grinned. “There he is, folks,” he said, pointing at him. “Right up in the window there. He’ll be right down.” He held his hands up in front of him and began to applaud. The other guests gathered around the pool laughed and clapped. The Lewises’ daughter turned to whisper something to her mother and her mother laughed and whispered something to their guests.

  “Dad, for God’s sake!”

  “Hurry it up! Hurry it up! Folks,” Mr. Braddock said, “he’s a little shy. This is his first public appearance so you’ll have to—”

  Benjamin slammed the window shut and stared down at the two fins and the air tank and the mask on the floor of the bathroom. Then he picked them up and carried them downstairs and out through the living room to the back. He stood looking out the door at the swimming pool and the guests until finally Mr. Braddock rushed inside.

  “Let’s go.”

  “Does this amuse you?”

  Mr. Braddock leaned back out the door. “He’s downstairs, folks! The suit’s on! Give us half a minute!” He closed the door and stepped back inside. “I’ll help you on with the mask,” he said.

  “Dad, this is sick.”

  “Here.” He took the mask and fitted it onto Benjamin’s face. Then he strapped the air cylinder onto his back and connected it to the hoses running out the side of the mask. “Can you breathe all right?” he said. “Good.” He got down on his knees and fitted the fins over Benjamin’s feet, then stood up, grinned at him and walked back outside.

  “Folks,” he said, “let’s hear you bring him out! A big round of applause!” The guests began to applaud. “Here he comes! Here he comes!”

  Benjamin stepped out the door and into the back yard. The neighbors continued to clap and laugh. Mr. Lewis pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to dry his eyes. The Arnold children began jumping up and down on the lawn and screaming and pointing at him. After several moments of applause Mr. Braddock raised his hands. It was quiet.

  “Now ladies and gentlemen? The boy is going to perform spectacular and amazing feats of skill and daring under water.”

  Mr. Arnold laughed. “Get your pennies ready, folks.”

  “Are you ready, boy?” Mr. Braddock said. “All right then. On with the show!”

  “On with the show!” the Arnold children yelled, jumping up and down. “On with the show! On with the show!” Mrs. Arnold stood up and took their hands and then it was suddenly perfectly quiet in the yard.

  Benjamin cleared his throat. He walked slowly toward the edge of the pool, keeping his chin down against his chest so he could see where he was going through the mask, but before he reached the water one of his flippers got caught under his foot and he nearly pitched forward onto his face. The children began to laugh again and leap up and down.

  “Oh no,” Mrs. Arnold said. “That wasn’t funny.”

  “Hey Ben,” Mr. Arnold called. “Be careful when you come up. You don’t want to get the bends.”

  Benjamin placed his foot down onto the top step at the shallow end of the pool, then walked slowly down the steps to the pool’s floor.

  “Wait a minute,” his father said. He hurried to the edge of the pool with the spear. Benjamin stared at him a moment through the glass, then grabbed the spear away from him, turned around and began walking slowly down the slope of the pool toward the deep end. The water rose up around his black suit to the level of his chest. Then to his neck. Just as the water level was at his chin the flippers began scraping against the bottom of the pool. He let all his breath out and tried to force himself under but the air tank kept him afloat. He began thrashing with his arms but his head would not go under. The Arnold children began to laugh. Finally he turned around and began moving slowly back up toward the shallow end. The neighbors in back began booing through the fence. By the time he reached the steps everyone in the yard was booing except for his father, who was standing at the head of the pool frowning at him.

  Benjamin pulled the mask partially away from his face. “The show’s over,” he said quietly.

  “What’s wrong.”

  “He needs a weight!” Mr. Arnold called. “That’ll get him under. If you had a big rock it would do it.”

  “Right,” Mr. Braddock said. He straightened up. “Folks?” he said. “There will be a brief intermission. Hang on to your seats.” He hurried past the pool and through a gate into the rear part of the yard, where the incinerator was.

  Benjamin stood quietly at the shallow end of the pool resting the end of his spear on the pool’s floor and staring through his mask at Peter Arnold. It was perfectly quiet. When Mr. Braddock returned he was carrying a large piece of concrete used to keep the lid of the incinerator closed. Benjamin took it from him and walked slowly back toward the deep end. Some of the guests began laughing and applauding as his head went under and then it was perfectly quiet beneath the water as he walked gradually down to the very bottom of the pool. He stood a moment looking at a wall of the pool, then sat down. Finally he eased himself down onto his side and balanced the heavy piece of concrete on his hip. Then he turned his head to look up at the shiny silver surface of the pool above. “Dad?” he said quietly into his mask.

  ***

  In the morning Benjamin got up earlier than usual. He dressed himself in a pair of khaki pants and an old jacket he had bought in the East at an army surplus store, and went downstairs. Mrs. Braddock was in the kitchen. “You’re up early,” she said.

  Benjamin walked past her and sat down at the table in front of his grapefruit. “I’m leaving home,” he said.

  “What?”

  “I said I’m leaving home,” he said, picking up his spoon. “I’m clearing out after breakfast.”

  Mrs. Braddock reached up to wipe her hands on a towel beside the sink. “You’re going away?” she said.

  “That’s right.”

  She frowned and walked across the room to sit down beside him at the table. “You’re taking a trip?” she said.

  “That is right,” Benjamin said. He dug into the grapefruit. “Well where are you going,” she said. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know where you’re going?”

  “No.”

  She sat a moment looking at him. “I don’t understand what you mean,” she said.

  “If you want the cliché,” Benjamin said, looking up from his grapefruit, “I’m going on the road.”

  “What?”

&n
bsp; “On the road. I believe that’s the conventional terminology.”

  “Well Ben,” his mother said.

  “What?”

  “I still don’t understand this. You aren’t just planning to throw your things in the car and leave, I hope.”

  “No.”

  “Then what.”

  “I’m hitchhiking.”

  “What?”

  “Mother, you haven’t been on the road much, have you.”

  Mrs. Braddock began shaking her head.

  “Don’t get excited, Mother. I’ll be all right”

  “You mean you’re just going to pack your bag and go?”

  “I’m not taking any luggage.”

  “What?”

  “I’m taking what I have on.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well how much money are you taking.”

  “Ten dollars.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Then you won’t be gone more than a day or two.”

  Benjamin raised a section of grapefruit to his mouth.

  “How long will you be gone,” his mother said.

  “I don’t know.”

  “More than a day or two?”

  “Yes.”

  “But not more than a week.”

  “Look,” Benjamin said. “Maybe five years, maybe ten. I don’t know.”

  “What?”

  Mr. Braddock came into the kitchen carrying the morning newspaper. “You’re up early,” he said.

  “Ben, tell your father. Because I know he won’t let you do it.”

  “What’s up,” Mr. Braddock said, sitting down at the table.

  “I’m going on a trip.”

  “He’s not taking the sports car. He’s not taking any clothes. He has ten dollars in his pocket and he’s—”

  “Excuse me,” Benjamin said. He reached for a bowl of sugar in the center of the table.

  “What’s all this about?” Mr. Braddock said.

  “I’m leaving after breakfast on a trip,” Benjamin said, sprinkling sugar on his grapefruit. “I have no idea where I’m going. Maybe just around the country or the continent. Maybe if I can get papers I’ll work around the world. So that’s that.”

  “Well what’s the point of it.”

  “The point is I’m getting the hell out of here.”

  Mr. Braddock frowned at him. “This doesn’t sound too well thought out,” he said.”

  Benjamin raised a sugared section of grapefruit to his mouth.

  “You just plan to work around? Bum around?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Meet all kinds of interesting people I suppose.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well Ben,” his father said. “I don’t see anything wrong with taking a little trip. But this is the wrong way to go about it.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Listen,” his father said. “How’s this for an idea.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “How’s this for an idea, Ben. Spend the summer picking out a graduate school in the East, then throw your things in the car and take a week or two driving back.”

  “No.”

  “What’s wrong with that.”

  “Because I’m finished with schools, Dad.” A section of grapefruit fell off his spoon and onto the table. “I never want to see another school again. I never want to see another educated person again in my life.”

  “Come on, Ben.”

  “Come on!” Benjamin said, standing up. “Now I have wasted twenty-one years of my life. As of yesterday. And that is a hell of a lot to waste.”

  “Sit down.”

  “Dad,” Benjamin said, “for twenty-one years I have been shuffling back and forth between classrooms and libraries. Now you tell me what the hell it’s got me.”

  “A damn fine education.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “No.”

  “You call me educated?”

  “I do.”

  “Well I don’t,” Benjamin said, sitting down again. “Because if that’s what it means to be educated then the hell with it.”

  “Ben?” his mother said. “What are you talking about.”

  “I am trying to tell you,” Benjamin said, “I’m trying to tell you that I am through with all this.”

  “All what.”

  “All this!” he said, holding his arms out beside him. “I don’t know what it is but I’m sick of it. I want something else.”

  “What do you want.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well look, Ben.”

  “Do you know what I want,” Benjamin said, tapping his finger against the table.

  “What.”

  “Simple people. I want simple honest people that can’t even read or write their own name. I want to spend the rest of my life with these people.”

  “Ben.”

  “Farmers,” Benjamin said. “Truck drivers. Ordinary people who don’t have big houses. Who don’t have swimming pools.”

  “Ben, you’re getting carried away.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Ben, you have a romantic idea of this.”

  “Real people, Dad. If you want the cliché, I am going out to spend the rest of my life with the real people of this world.”

  “Aren’t we real?” Mrs. Braddock said.

  “It’s trite to talk about it,” Benjamin said. “I know how I feel.”

  They finished breakfast quietly. When it was over, Mr. Braddock pulled a checkbook out of his pocket and began making out a check.

  “Dad, look.”

  “I want you to take this,” he said.

  “I don’t want it.”

  He signed it and tore it out of the book. “Here,” he said.

  “No.”

  “Take it.”

  “I won’t.”

  Mr. Braddock reached over to stuff it in the pocket of Benjamins coat. Benjamin removed it, read the amount, then returned it to his pocket.

  “Cash it if you have to,” his father said.

  “I won’t have to.”

  “All right. But Ben?”

  “What.”

  “I don’t know how long this is going to last. I have a feeling you’ll be back here before you think you will.”

  “I won’t.”

  “But if you feel you have to get out and rub elbows with the real people for a while, then …”

  Benjamin stood. “Goodbye,” he said, holding out his hand.

  His father shook it. “Call collect if you get into any kind of trouble.”

  “Ben?” Mrs. Braddock said. “Do you think you might be back by Saturday?”

  “Mother.”

  “Because I invited the Robinsons over for dinner. It would be so much more fun if you were here.”

  Part Two

  Chapter Three

  The trip lasted just less than three weeks. It was late one night when Benjamin returned and both his parents were asleep. He tried the front door and found it locked. Then he tried the kitchen door at the side of the house and the door at the rear but both were locked. He attempted opening several windows but most of them were covered with screens and the ones without screens were locked. Finally he walked back around to the front porch and banged on the door until a light was turned on in his parents’ bedroom. He waited till the light was turned on in the front hall. Then his father, wearing a bathrobe, pulled open the door.

  “Ben,” he said.

  Benjamin walked past him and into the house.

  “Well you’re back.”

  “I’m back,” Benjamin said. He walked to the foot of the stairs.

  “Hey,” Mr. Braddock said, grinning at him, “it looks like you’ve got a little beard started there.”

  “It comes off tomorrow.”

  “Well,” his father said. “How are you.”

  “Tired.”

  “You’re all tired out.”

  “That’s right.”


  “So how was the trip.”

  “Not too great,” Benjamin said. He began slowly climbing up the stairs.

  “Well Ben?”

  Benjamin stopped and let his head sag down between his shoulders. “Dad,” he said, “I’m so tired I can’t think.”

  “Well can’t you tell me where you went?”

  Benjamin knelt down on the stairs, then lay down on his side. “North,” he said, closing his eyes.

  “How far north.”

  “I don’t know. Redding. One of those towns.”

  “Well that’s where the big fire is,” his father said. “You must have seen it.”

  Mrs. Braddock, wearing her bathrobe and pushing some hair out of her face, appeared at the foot of the stairs. “Ben?” she said. “Is that you?”

  “Hello Mother,” he said without opening his eyes.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well how was the trip.”

  “Mother, I have never been this tired in all my life.”

  “He got up to Redding, he thinks,” Mr. Braddock said. “One of those towns up there.”

  “Dad, I haven’t slept in several days. I haven’t eaten since yesterday and I’m about to drop over.”

  “You haven’t eaten?” his mother said.

  “No.”

  “I’ll fix you something right away.”

  “Look,” Benjamin said, raising his head up off the stair. “I’m so tired I can’t even …”

  Mrs. Braddock had already hurried out of the front hall and toward the kitchen.

  “Come on in the living room a minute,” Mr. Braddock said. “You’ll get to bed right after a little food.”

  Benjamin slid back down the stairs, stood and followed his father slowly into the living room. He dropped down onto the sofa. “Well now,” Mr. Braddock said. “Let’s have the report.” Benjamin’s head fell back and he closed his eyes again. “What about money. Did you cash my check?”

  “No.”

  “Well what happened. Did you get some work?”

  “Yes.”

  “What kind of work was it.”

  “Dad?”

  “Come on, Ben,” he said. “I’m interested in this.” Benjamin took a deep breath. “I fought a fire,” he said. “That big fire up there?” his father said. “You fought it?”