The Laughing Matter

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Authors: William Saroyan
the flarings into meanness and ugliness of their children, as if they’d already left childhood behind.
    Each of the four would know the worst about himself, but it would be put aside, it would be hidden the whole time they were together, and almost forgotten. Almost, but not quite. A hint of it would come into the eyes of each of them from time to time.
    Still, for a moment they would know well-being. They would know well-being is a lie. They would know it is desperate and sorrowful, but they would not bother about this.They would hold glasses and drink, speaking swiftly and easily and meaninglessly.
    â€œI wonder if you’d tell me about Dade,” Evan said.
    â€œHe’s
your
brother,” Walz said.
    â€œI mean, as a farmer.”
    â€œWell, I thought I was the world’s worst,” Walz said, “but I suppose Dade’s champ now. Still, we’ve got no kick coming. Dade’s doing all right, and so am I. We’ve had three rotten years in a row, but if we haven’t gotten rich, we haven’t gotten poor or gone broke, either. If your place is paid for—and Dade’s is, and so is mine—well, no matter how rotten things get, you can’t lose. Getting a place paid for is the tough thing. Once that’s done, though, it’s a pretty good life. We get bored, but who doesn’t?”
    â€œWhat’s Dade do?”
    â€œHow do you mean?”
    â€œDoes he get out in the vineyard and work?”
    â€œHe helps prune the vines,” Walz said. “There’s about six weeks of pruning for four men on sixty acres of vineyard. Dade hires three men, and works with them. I mean, he doesn’t stop in the middle of the day to take a nap or anything like that just because he owns the place. He starts when they start, stops for lunch when they do, eats with them, and stops when they stop. I know he likes to prune the vines. Pruning time can be anywhere from early December to late February. He starts on January first every year. He works alone that day. The next day the three workers join him.”
    â€œHe
does
work on the vineyard, then?” Evan said.
    â€œOh, yes,” Walz said. “When I said he was the world’s worst, I meant he doesn’t do any of the things the boys justout of agricultural college do. I once asked him why he didn’t get the weeds out of his irrigation ditches and he said he liked them. Did you have the idea Dade
never
worked?”
    â€œHe never cared much for work,” Evan said. “He had a few jobs as a kid, but that’s all.”
    â€œOn a vineyard it’s different,” Walz said. “He’s his own boss. Isn’t that about as good as it can get for any of us?”
    â€œYes, I suppose so,” Evan said. “What about wine?”
    â€œThat market’s shot,” Walz said. “It’s been shot for years. We don’t have wine makers. We have chemists. They make wine the way shampoo’s made.”
    â€œNo, I meant does Dade make wine? Do
you?”
    â€œI make a few gallons every year, just for the fun of it,” Walz said. “I don’t know whether Dade does or not.” After a moment he said, “What do you think? Is it a good life?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Evan said quickly. “I suppose it
could
be. I suppose it could
somehow
be. I don’t know. It always depends on something or other, and the pity of it is that either you don’t know what this thing is, or if you
do
know, you know it involves someone else, who must help but won’t, or can’t.”
    â€œHas Dade read any of your books?” Walz said. “The reason I ask is that I started to speak to him about them a couple of times, but I didn’t get anywhere. Is it because he hasn’t read them?”
    â€œThere are only three,” Evan said. “I don’t think it’s because he hasn’t read them. I think it’s because

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