Summer Morning, Summer Night (Green Town 4)

“No, no, everything’s all right. It’s just my father has a new job there. It’s only fifty miles away. I can see you, can’t I, when I come to town?”

“Do you think that would be a good idea?”

“No, I guess not.”

They sat a while in the silent school room.

“How did all of this happen?” he said helplessly.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Nobody ever knows. They haven’t known for thousand of years, and I don’t think they ever will. People either like each other or don’t, and sometimes two people like each other who shouldn’t. I can’t explain myself, and certainly you can’t explain you.”

“I guess I’d better get home,” he said.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“Oh, gosh no, I could never be mad at you.”

“There’s one more thing. I want you to remember—there are compensations in life. There always are, or we wouldn’t go on living. You don’t feel happy now; neither do I. But something will happen to fix that. Do you believe that?”

“I’d like to.”

“Well, it’s true.”

“If only—” he said.

“What?”

“If only you’d wait for me,” he blurted.

“Ten years?”

“I’d be twenty-four then.”

But I’d be thirty-four and another person entirely, perhaps. No, I don’t think it can be done.”

“Wouldn’t you like it to be done?” he cried.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “It’s silly and it wouldn’t work, but I would like it very much.”

He sat there for a long time. “I’ll never forget you,” he said.

“It’s nice for you to say that, even though it can’t be true, because life isn’t that way. You’ll forget.”

“I’ll never forget. I’ll find a way of never forgetting you,” he said.

She got up and went to the board.

“I’ll help you,” he said.

“No, no,” she said hastily. “You can go on now, and no more tending to the boards after school. I’ll assign Helen Stevens to do it.”

He left the room. Looking back, outside, he saw Miss Ann Taylor for the last time. She was standing at the board, slowly erasing it.

HE MOVED away from town the next week and he was gone for sixteen years. He never got down to Green Bluff again until he was thirty and married. And then one spring he and his wife were driving through on their way to Chicago and stopped off there.

Alone, he took a walk around town and finally asked about Miss Ann Taylor. No one remembered at first and then one of them did.

“Oh, yes, the pretty teacher. She died not long after you left.”