Free The Early Stories of Truman Capote by Truman Capote

her head.
    The beautiful girl stood by the bed and looked down directly into Ethel’s face. Ethel could feel those dark eyes on her and she knew they were swollen from tears.
    “I came to ask you why you did this to me. Do you dislike me so?”
    “I hate you.”
    “Why?” Louise was earnest in asking.
    “I don’t know—please go; leave me alone!”
    She could hear Louise opening the door. “Ethel, you are a strange girl. I am afraid I do not understand—” And the door was closed.
    A few minutes later Ethel heard a car in the driveway. She went to the window and looked out. A black limousine was turning through the stone gates, out of the school grounds. When she turned around, Ethel was looking into the face of Mildred Barnett.
    Mildred said simply, “Well, Ethel, you’ve won and you’ve lost, all at the same time. I told you you were playing with dynamite. Yes, Ethel, of a certain type you’ve given a rather brilliant performance—shall I applaud?”

This Is for Jamie

Almost every morning, except Sundays, Miss Julie took Teddy to play in the park. Teddy loved these daily trips. He would take along his bike or some plaything and amuse himself while Miss Julie, glad to be rid of him, gossiped with the other nurses and flirted with the officers. Teddy liked the park best in the morning when the sun was warm and the water spurted out of the fountains in a crystal spray.
    “It looks just like gold, doesn’t it, Miss Julie?” he would ask the white-garbed, carefully made-up nurse.
    “I wish it were!” Miss Julie would grumble.
    The night before the day Teddy met Jamie’s mother it had rained, and in the morning the park was fresh and green. Although it was toward the end of September, it seemed more like a spring morning. Teddy ran along the paved paths of the park with a wild exuberance. He was an Indian, a detective, a robber-baron, a fairy-tale Prince, he was an angel, he was going to escape from the thieves through the bush—and most of all he was happy and he had two whole hours to himself.
    He was playing with his cowboy rope when he saw her. She came along the path and sat down on one of the vacant benches. It was the dog she had with her that first attracted his attention. He loved dogs, he was crazy to have one, but Papa had said no, because he didn’t want to have to housebreak a puppy and if you got a full-grown dog it wouldn’t be the same. The woman’s dog was just what he had always wanted. It was a wire haired terrier, hardly more than a puppy.
    He walked slowly up, a little embarrassed, and patted the dog on the head.
    “That’s a fella,” “Atta Boy.” That’s what they said in the movies and the adventure stories Miss Julie read him.
    The woman looked up. Teddy thought she was about as old as his mother, but his mother didn’t have such pretty hair. This was like gold and it was wavy and soft looking.
    “He’s an awfully nice dog. I wish I had one like him.”
    The woman smiled, and it was then that he thought she was very pretty. “He’s not mine,” she said. “He’s my little boy’s.” Her voice was nice, too.
    Immediately Teddy’s eyes lit up. “Have you got a little boy like me?”
    “Oh, he’s a little bit older than you. He’s nine.”
    Eagerly Teddy exclaimed, “I’m eight, or almost.” He looked younger. He was small for his age and very dark. He was not a handsome child, but he had a friendly face and a disarming manner.
    “What’s your little boy’s name?”
    “Jamie—Jamie.” She seemed happy, saying the name.
    Teddy got up on the bench beside her. The dog was still in a playful mood and continued to jump on Teddy and scratch his legs.
    “Sit down, Frisky,” the woman commanded.
    “Is that his name?” Teddy asked. “That’s an awful cute name. He’s such a nice dog. I wish I had a dog, and I could bring him to the park every day and we could play, and then at night he could sit in my room and I could talk to him instead of to Miss Julie,