Tiger nodded.
“I think you’re an awfully good teacher,” she said, softly, almost shyly.
Tiger was moved by that. It was the sort of remark that always moved him, he appreciated it. He had heard others tell him that, but he was especially moved to hear her say that. It drew him closer to her, he felt a great deal of warmth toward her, more and more. He was sure she felt the same.
“Thank you, Mona. That’s a very nice thing to hear. It’s made my day.”
“I mean it, too.”
He knew she did.
“I know you do,” he said, quietly.
“I always thought civics would be so boring. I really did. Not with you though. I love it, Mr. McDrew.”
“I try to make it live,” Tiger modestly said, “I’d hate to be sitting there being bored by it. I always try to put myself in the student’s place. I can remember my high-school days!”
They were piperoos.
They had a little laugh. Again, Tiger found himself in love with her laugh. It was soft, and warm, it was a lovely, human laugh. He certainly liked this young maid.
“The colleges are getting pretty crowded these days,” He said, “But I’m sure you’ll get in. Where would you like to go? State?”
“Oh, I’d love State—”
“I went there.”
“I’d love to go there!”
Pretty Maids All in a Row 169 “You’ll like it there,” Tiger said, “Of course, it’s changed a lot since I was there—the campus is filled with new buildings—I think now there must be about twenty thousand students there. Five times as many as when I was there!”
“Is there a quota there?” She asked.
Tiger knew what she meant, what was on her mind there, and he felt sorry for her. And angry, also, at the whole rotten business of race.
“They’re not supposed to have,” he answered, gently, and truthfully, “You’ll see when you fill out your application form they don’t ask anything like that—” He paused, “As far as I know, they don’t have anything like that.” He said. “You get that rotten business at private schools, and of course down south. I guess you know that though. Don’t you?”
She nodded. She was a bit blue.
“Well, I’d really like to go there,” she said.
Tiger nodded. He gave a warm smile. He wished her all the luck in the world, certainly, he’d do what he could for her.
“Well, when the day comes that you fill out your application, just let me know, I’ll help all I can.”
“When should I do it?” she asked.
“Oh, about the beginning of your Senior year, next year.” Silence, now.
“Are you from Sawyersville, Mr. McDrew?” She said. “You can call me Tiger—in here,” He said, warmly, aware of the marvelous rapport enveloping them.
“I can?”
“Sure you can.”
She gazed at him. She looked beautiful gazing at him. Was her heart pounding? He thought he knew.
“Are you?” She said.
“I am. I was born and brought up here. Of course, I’ve been around a little bit,” He chuckled softly. “Here and there.”
“I’ll bet you have.”
“But most of all—I like it here.”
“It’s so quiet—so nice and peaceful here.”
Tiger grinned, “It’s not a bad town.”
She sat quietly, continuing to gaze at him. She smiled.
She touched her hair. She looked away a moment from him. She sighed.
“What would happen if my family moved in?” She asked, suddenly, looking at him once again.
Tiger admired the girl. He thought about it, not knowing exactly what, as yet, to say. For the citizens of Sawyersville. in truth, weren’t all that advanced in their views —if he knew. And he really thought he knew. They even had their share of John Birchers, true. A tiny minority, true. But. there they were. He thought of Crispwell, and felt blue. Did she have any classes with him? He didn’t think so. She was in the Academic course. He sat there, gazing at her, admiring her, wondering how he could answer that one. He didn’t want to hurt her, or lose her, for certainly it was fabulous rapport. On the other hand, he never liked kidding anyone around. In the end, it shattered rapport. And he loved truth. He felt sure all the troubles in the world, here, there, anywhere, could in the long run be attributed without a doubt to a suppression or distortion of truth, somewhere along the line. The human line.
He told her, gently, quietly, “I think a certain number of people would raise a lot of cain about it.” He paused. “Also, a certain number, including myself and just about all the teachers in the school, would be happy about it.” He paused again, watching her. “Then, as always, a certain number in between wouldn’t know one way or the other.” He paused once more. “There’d be quite a tussle. I don’t know how it would all end up.”
And he sat quietly, watching her, admiring her. He wondered if her family had been thinking along those lines. He wouldn’t mind. He wondered what her family was like. They sounded alright. She had two older brothers—in their twenties. He knew.
“Would this certain number against it try to hurt us—” She said— “1 mean, throw bricks through our windows, maybe even blow up the house—or try to—Do you think they would?”
Tiger pondered. She had foresight, alright.
“They might,” he said. “Those types exist.” He paused. “You know it, don’t you, Mona?” He also said. “The country has its fair share of them, without a doubt.” He paused. “Look at Kennedy—” He stopped.
Pretty Maids AII in a Row 171 “Yes—” She said, quite blue, “Yes—I know. I know alright—Tiger—” She stopped.
“That sounds nice.”
“Why did I call you that?”
“Well, I asked you to.” He paused, and smiled. “Didn’t I, Mona?”
“Why do they call you that?”
He shrugged, still smiling, “I used to be called that when I played football, a heck of a long time ago. I guess I was pretty fierce! Or something, I don’t know. Anyhow, it stuck with me.” He paused. “Don’t you like it?”
“And is the team named after you?” She meant Tigers, of course. Sawyersville High’s nom de guerre, in full.
“No,” he said, tickled pink, “They got that name long ago. It’s just pure coincidence—that’s alL” He paused. “Lots of people w'onder like you!”
Silence, again.
“Don’t you like it?” He asked again.
She smiled, warmly, “Well—if it was anyone but you—” She paused—“Since it’s you—” It was the warmest smile. She paused.
“You’re very nice,” Tiger spoke softly, to her.
“Are you married?” She asked, quietly.
“I’m married,” he answered, very softly.
“I knew' you were—”
“How are you?” Gently, he asked.
“I’m alright—”
“What kind of music do you like?”
“All kinds—”
“No favorites?”
“I like to dance—I like dance music. A lot.”
“I’ll bet you can dance—”
“Oh, I like to—”
“Are you a good dancer?”
“Depends who I’m dancing with—”
“How would you dance with me?”
There was silence. Her eyes never strayed from his in that silence. Could rapport be more pure? He felt sure.
“I don’t know—” she replied, finally, very softly, “I’d have to try it—”
“We can’t try it here—” he murmured.
“I know it—”
A pause. Eternity lay beyond.
“What can we try here?" He asked, warmly.
“I don’t know—"
“How are you?”
“I feel good—”
“Get up—” He murmured—“Lovely.”
She sat there a moment, just gazing at him. He felt great. He knew she was warm, and thumping inside, under that bundle. She got up, slowly. He adored her.
“Walk to the door—”
She did so.
“Lock it.” He murmured.
She did so. She turned, facing him. after doing so.