Free In The Garden Of The North American Martyrs by Tobias Wolff Page A

it.”
    â€œYou never know. His old man might get better.”
    â€œIt’s his mother. And she’s dead.”
    â€œOh.” Talbot kept swinging the racket, forehand now.
    â€œBy the way, there’s something I meant to tell you.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œI’m not going to be able to help you with those essays any more.”
    He shrugged. “Okay.”
    â€œI’ve got enough work of my own to do. I can’t do my work and yours too.”
    â€œI said okay. Parker can’t flunk me now anyway. I’ve got a C+ average.”
    â€œI just thought I’d tell you.”
    â€œSo you told me.” Talbot finished the cigarette and stashed the butt in a tin soap dish. “We’d better go. We’re gonna be late for basketball.”
    â€œI’m not going to basketball.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œBecause I don’t feel like going to basketball, that’s why not.”
    We left the building together and split up at the bottom of the steps without exchanging another word. I went down to the infirmary to get an excuse for not going to basketball. The doctor was out and I had to wait for an hour until he came back and gave me some pills and Kaopectate. When I got back to my room the dorm was in an uproar.
    I heard the story from the boys in the room next to mine. Big John had caught Eugene smoking. He had come into Eugene’s room and found him there alone and smelled cigarette smoke. Eugene had denied it but Big John tore the room apart and found cigarettes and butts all over the place. Eugene was over at the headmaster’s house at this moment.
    They told me the story in a mournful way, as though they were really broken up about it, but I could see how excited they were. It was always like that when someone got kicked out of school.
    I went to my room and pulled a chair over to the window. Just before the bell rang for dinner a taxi came up the drive. Big John walked out of the dorm with two enormous cardboard suitcases and helped the driver put them in the trunk. He gave the driver some money and said something to him and the driver nodded and got back into the cab. Then the headmaster and the dean came out of the house with Eugene behind them. Eugene waswearing his hat. He shook hands with both of them and then with Big John. Suddenly he bent over and put his hands up to his face. The dean reached out and touched his arm. They stood like that for a long time, the four of them, Eugene’s shoulders bucking and heaving. I couldn’t watch it. I went to the mirror and combed my hair until I heard the door of the taxi bang shut. When I looked out the window again the cab was gone. The headmaster and the dean were standing in the shadows, but I could see Big John clearly. He was rocking back on his heels and talking, hands on his hips, and something he said made the headmaster laugh; not really a laugh, more like a giggle. The only thing I heard was the word “feathers.” I figured they must be talking about Eugene’s hat. Then the bell rang and the three of them went into the dining hall.
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    The next day I walked by the dean’s office and almost went in and told him everything. The problem was, if I told the dean about Talbot he would find out about me, too. The rules didn’t set forth different punishments according to the amount of smoke consumed. I even considered sending the dean an anonymous note, but I doubted if it would get much attention. They were big on doing the gentlemanly thing at Choate.
    On Friday Talbot came up to me at basketball practice and asked if I wanted to room with him next year.
    â€œI’ll think about it,” I told him.
    â€œThe names have to be in by dinner time tonight.”
    â€œI said I’ll think about it.”
    That evening Talbot submitted our names to the dean. There hadn’t really been that much to think about. For all I know, Eugene had been smoking