Free The Graduate by Charles Webb Page B

want to talk about values,” Benjamin said.
    “Do you have any left?”
    Benjamin frowned. “Do I have any values,” he said. “Values. Values.”
    He shook his head. “I can’t think of any at the moment. No.”
    “How can you say that, son.”
    “Dad, I don’t see any value in anything I’ve ever done and I don’t see any value in anything I could possibly ever do. Now I think we’ve exhausted the topic. How about some TV.”
    “You’re twenty-one years old,” his father said.
    “Come on, Dad.”
    “You have a wonderful mind and you’re a well-educated young man.”
    “Dad,” Benjamin said, reaching into his shirt pocket for another cigarette, “let’s not beat around the bush. If you’re trying to tell me you’re throwing me out of the house why not come out with it.”

    The Graduate
    76
    I’m not, Ben.”
    “Excuse me then. It sounded like you might be leading up to something of that nature.”
    “I’m leading up to this, Ben. There are certain things you seem completely unaware of.”
    “Such as.”
    “Well,” Mr. Braddock said, “such as a few economic facts of life if you want to put it that way.”
    “Economics.”
    “Yes.”
    “I think I’m aware of them.”
    “Are you?”
    Benjamin nodded. “I seem to remember taking a course or two on that subject,” he said.
    “Well you don’t seem to have gotten much out of it.”
    “As I recall,” Benjamin said, lighting his cigarette, “I got the highest grade in the class.”
    Mr. Braddock remained standing with his back to his son, looking out the window. “Well Ben,” he said, “for all your intellectuality you don’t—”
    “I am not an intellectual!” Benjamin said. He dropped his match in the ash tray. “If you want to stand there and insult me I’d appreciate it if you’d stop short of that.”
    “For all your education, Ben, you seem rather naive about certain things. One of them is that someday you are going to have earn a living.”
    “Am I?”
    “Of course.”
    “Are you going broke or something? You can’t afford to feed me any more?”
    Mr. Braddock turned around to face him.
    Benjamin stood. “Now look!” he said, waving his arm through the air. “I have been a goddamn—a goddamn ivy-covered status symbol around here for four years. And I think I’m entitled to—”

    The Graduate
    77
    “What did you say?”
    “What?”
    “A status symbol? Is that what you said?”
    Benjamin stared at him a moment, then looked down at the rug. “I didn’t mean that,” he said.
    “Is that how you feel, Ben?”
    “No.”
    “That your mother and I think of you as—”
    “No!”
    “Because—”
    “Be quiet a minute. Now Dad? I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I’m grateful for the education. But let’s face it. It didn’t work out. It wasn’t worth a damn. Not one single damn thing was it worth.”
    Mr. Braddock returned slowly to the desk and seated himself. “I don’t know quite what to say,” he said.
    “I didn’t mean that about the ivy-covered—”
    “All right,” he said. “But Ben?”
    “What.”
    “Something has to be done. Maybe the education didn’t work out, as you put it. Maybe it wasn’t worth a damn. But you can’t go on like this.”
    “I try not to bother anyone.”
    “Well that’s hardly the point. Just the life you’re leading is taking it out of both your mother and me. I’m afraid your mother’s much more upset than she lets you know.”
    “I’m sorry about that.”
    “And let’s be honest about this, Ben. Your mother and I are certainly as much to blame as you are for whatever is happening.”
    “No you aren’t.”
    “Well we are. We’ve raised you. We’ve tried to instill certain values into your thinking.”
    “Dad, I’m not blaming you.”

    The Graduate
    78
    “Well I’m blaming me then.”
    “Well you shouldn’t.”
    “Ben,” Mr. Braddock said, “something is horribly wrong.”
    “Look Dad,” Benjamin said. “This is getting