NOBODY KNOWS (Winesburg, Ohio) - Sherwood Anderson
LOOKING CAUTIOUSLY ABOUT, George Willard arose from his desk in the office of the Winesburg Eagle and went hurriedly out at the back door. The night was warm and cloudy and although it was not yet eight o clock, the alleyway back of the Eagle office was pitch dark. A team of horses tied to a post somewhere in the darkness stamped on the hard-baked ground. A cat sprang from under George Willard s feet and ran away into the night. The young man was nervous. All day he had gone about his work like one dazed by a blow. In the alleyway he trembled as though with fright.
In the darkness George Willard walked along the alleyway, going carefully and cautiously. The back doors of the Winesburg stores were open and he could see men sitting about under the store lamps. In Myerbaum s Notion Store Mrs. Willy the saloon keeper s wife stood by the counter with a basket on her arm. Sid Green the clerk was waiting on her. He leaned over the counter and talked earnestly.
George Willard crouched and then jumped through the path of light that came out at the door. He began to run forward in the darkness. Behind Ed Griffiths saloon old Jerry Bird the town drunkard lay asleep on the ground. The runner stumbled over the sprawling legs. He laughed brokenly.
George Willard had set forth upon an
adventure. All day he had been trying to make up his mind to go through with
the adventure and nowhe was acting. In the office of theWinesburg Eagle he had
been sitting since six o clock trying to think.
There had been no decision. He had just
jumped to his feet, hurried past Will Henderson who was reading proof in the
printshop and started to run along the alleyway.
Through street after street went George
Willard, avoiding the people who passed. He crossed and recrossed the road.
When he passed a street lamp he pulled his hat down over his face. He did not
dare think. In his mind there was a fear but it was a new kind of fear. He was
afraid the adventure on which he had set out would be spoiled, that he would
lose courage and turn back.
George Willard found Louise Trunnion
in the kitchen of her father s house. She was washing dishes by the light
of a kerosene lamp. There she stood behind the screen door in the little shedlike
kitchen at the back of the house. George Willard stopped by a picket fence and
tried to control the shaking of his body. Only a narrow potato patch separated
him from the adventure. Five minutes passed before he felt sure enough of himself
to call to her. Louise! Oh, Louise! he called. The cry stuck in
his throat. His voice became a hoarse whisper.
Louise Trunnion came out across the potato
patch holding the dish cloth in her hand. How do you know I want to go
out with you, she said sulkily. What makes you so sure?
George Willard did not answer. In silence
the two stood in the darkness with the fence between them. You go on along,
she said. Pa s in there. I ll come along. You wait
by Williams barn.
The young newspaper reporter had received
a letter from Louise Trunnion. It had come that morning to the office of the
Winesburg Eagle. The letter was brief. I m yours if you want me,
it said. He thought it annoying that in the darkness by the fence she
had pretended there was nothing between them. She has a nerve! Well, gracious
sakes, she has a nerve, he muttered as he went along the street and passed
a row of vacant lots where corn grew. The corn was shoulder high and had been
planted right down to the sidewalk.
When Louise Trunnion came out of the
front door of her house she still wore the gingham dress in which she had been
washing dishes. There was no hat on her head. The boy could see her standing
with the doorknob in her hand talking to someone within, no doubt to old Jake
Trunnion, her father. Old Jake was half deaf and she shouted. The door closed
and everything was dark and silent in the little side street. George Willard
trembled more violently than ever.
In the shadows by Williams barn
George and Louise stood, not daring to talk. She was not particularly comely
and there was a black smudge on the side of her nose. George thought she must
have rubbed her nose with her finger after she had been handling some of the
The young man began to laugh nervously.
It s warm, he said. He wanted to touch her with his hand.
I m ot very bold, he thought. Just to touch the folds of the
soiled gingham dress would, he decided, be an exquisite pleasure. She began
to quibble. You think you re better than I am. Don t tell
me, I guess I know, she said drawing closer to him.
A flood of words burst from George Willard.
He remembered the look that had lurked in the girl s eyes when they had
met on the streets and thought of the note she had written. Doubt left him.
The whispered tales concerning her that had gone about town gave him confidence.
He became wholly the male, bold and aggressive. In his heart there was no sympathy
for her. Ah, come on, it ll be all right. There wo t be anyone
know anything. How can they know?he urged.
They began to walk along a narrow brick
side-walk between the cracks of which tall weeds grew. Some of the bricks were
missing and the sidewalk was rough and irregular. He took hold of her hand that
was also rough and thought it delightfully small. I can t go far,
she said and her voice was quiet, unperturbed.
They crossed a bridge that ran over a
tiny stream and passed another vacant lot in which corn grew. The street ended.
In the path at the side of the road they were compelled to walk one behind the
other. Will Overto s berry field lay beside the road and there was a pile
of boards. Will is going to build a shed to store berry crates here, said
George and they sat down upon the boards.
WHEN GEORGE WILLARD got back into Main
Street it was past ten o clock and had begun to rain. Three times he walked
up and down the length of Main Street. Sylvester West s Drug Store was
still open and he went in and bought a cigar. When Shorty Crandall the clerk
came out at the door with him he was pleased. For five minutes the two stood
in the shelter of the store awning and talked. George Wil-lard felt satisfied.
He had wanted more than anything else to talk to some man. Around a corner toward
the New Willard House he went whistling softly.
On the sidewalk at the side of Winney s Dry Goods Store where there was a high board fence covered with circus pictures, he stopped whistling and stood perfectly still in the darkness, attentive, listening as though for a voice calling his name. Then again he laughed nervously. She hasn t got anything on me. Nobody knows, he muttered doggedly and went on his way.