The Plastic Age by Percy Marks (best fiction books to read TXT) 📕

Hugh Spent The Summer At Home,  Working On The Farm,  Reading A Little,

And Occasionally Visiting A Lake Summer Resort A Few Miles Away. Helen

Had Left Merrytown To Attend A Secretarial School In a Neighboring City,

And Hugh Was Genuinely Glad To Find Her Gone When He Returned From

College. Helen Was Becoming Not Only A Bore But A Problem. Besides,  He

Met A Girl At Corley Lake,  The Summer Resort,  Whom He Found Much More

Fascinating. For A Month Or Two He Thought That He Was In Love With

Janet Harton. Night After Night He Drove To Corley Lake In His Father'S

Car,  Sometimes Dancing With Janet In The Pavilion,  Sometimes Canoeing

With Her On The Lake,  Sometimes Taking Her For Long Rides In The Car,

But Often Merely Wandering Through The Pines With Her Or Sitting On The

Shore Of The Lake And Staring At The Rippling Water.

Janet Was Small And Delicate; She Seemed Almost Fragile. She Did

Everything Daintily--Like A Little Girl Playing Tea-Party. Her Hands And

Feet Were Exquisitely Small,  Her Features Childlike And Indefinite,

Except Her Little Coral Mouth,  Which Was As Clearly Outlined With Color

As A Doll'S And As Mobile As A Fluttering Leaf. She Had Wide Blue Eyes

And Hair That Was Truly Golden. Strangely,  She Had Not Bobbed It But

Wore It Bound Into A Shining Coil Around Her Head.

Hugh Wrote A Poem To Her. It Began Thus:

                Maiden With The Clear Blue Eyes,

                Lady With The Golden Hair,

                Exquisite Child,  Serenely Wise,

                Sweetly Tender,  Morning Fair.

He Wasn'T Sure That It Was A Very Good Poem; There Was Something

Reminiscent About The First Line,  And He Was Dubious About "Morning

Fair." He Had,  However,  Studied German For A Year In High School,  And He

Guessed That If _Morgenschoen_ Was All Right In German It Was All Right

In English,  Too.

They Rarely Talked. Hugh Was Content To Sit For Hours With The Delicate

Child Nestling In His Arm,  Her Hand Lying Passive And Cool In His. She

Made Him Feel Very Strong And Protective. Nights,  He Dreamed Of Doing

Brave Deeds For Her,  Of Saving Her From Terrible Dangers. At First Her

Vague,  Fleeting Kisses Thrilled Him,  But As The Weeks Went By And His

Passion Grew,  He Found Them Strangely Unsatisfying.

When She Cuddled Her Lovely Head In The Hollow Of His Shoulder,  He

cWith Laughter As One Of Them Told Of A Summer Experience That Struck

Them As Funny. They Were Both So Glad To Get Back To College,  So Glad To

See Each Other,  That They Were Almost Hysterical. And When They Left

Surrey 19 Arm In arm On Their Way To The Nu Delta House "To See The

Brothers," Their Cup Of Bliss Was Full To The Brim And Running Over.

"Criminy,  The Ol' Campus Sure Does Look Good," Said Hugh Ecstatically.

"Watch The Frosh Work." He Was Suddenly Reminded Of Something. "Hey,

Freshman!" He Yelled At A Big,  Red-Faced Youngster Who Was To Be

Full-Back On The Football Team A Year Hence.

The Freshman Came On A Run. "Yes--Yes,  Sir?"

"Here'S A Check. Take It Down To The Station And Get My Suit-Case. Take

It Up To Surrey Nineteen And Put It In The Room. The Door'S Open. Hurry

Up Now; I'M Going To Want It Pretty Soon."

"Yes,  Sir. I'Ll Hurry." And The Freshman Was Off Running.

Hugh And Carl Grinned At Each Other,  Linked Arms Again,  And Continued

Their Way Across The Campus. When They Entered The Nu Delta House A

Shout Went Up. "Hi,  Carl! Hi,  Hugh! Glad To See You Back. Didya Have A

Good Summer? Put It There,  Ol' Kid"--And They Shook Hands,  Gripping Each

Other'S Forearm At The Same Time.

Hugh Tried Hard To Become A Typical Sophomore And Failed Rather Badly.

He Retained Much Of The Shyness And Diffidence That Gives The Freshman

His Charm,  And He Did Not Succeed Very Well In acquiring The Swagger,

The Cocky,  Patronizing Manner,  The Raucous Self-Assurance That

Characterize The True Sophomore.

He Found,  Too,  That He Couldn'T Lord It Over The Freshmen Very Well,  And

At Times He Was Nothing Less Than A Renegade To His Class. He Was

Constantly Giving Freshmen Correct Information About Their Problems,  And

During The Dormitory Initiations He More Than Once Publicly Objected To

Some "Stunt" That Seemed To Him Needlessly Insulting To The Initiates.

Because He Was An Athlete,  His Opinion Was Respected,  And Quite

Unintentionally He Won Several Good Friends Among The Freshmen. His

Objections Had All Been Spontaneous,  And He Was Rather Sorry About Them

Afterward. He Felt That He Must Be Soft,  That He Ought To Be Able To

Stand Anything That Anybody Else Could. Further,  He Felt That There

Must Be Something Wrong With His Sense Of Humor; Things That Struck Lots

Of His Classmates As Funny Seemed Merely Disgusting To Him.

He Wanted Very Much To Tell Carl About Janet,  But For Several Weeks The

Opportunity Did Not Present Itself. There Was Too Much Excitement About

The Campus; The Mood Of The Place Was All Wrong,  And Hugh,  Although He

Didn'T Know It,  Was Very Sensitive To Moods And Atmosphere.

Finally One Night In October He And Carl Were Seated In Their Big Chairs

Before The Fire. They Had Been Walking That Afternoon,  And Hugh Had Been

Swept Outside Of Himself By The Brilliance Of The Autumn Foliage. He Was

Emotionally And Physically Tired,  Feeling That Vague,  Melancholy

Happiness That Comes After An Intense But Pleasant Experience. Carl

Leaned Back To The Center-Table And Switched Off The Study Light.

"Pleasanter With Just The Firelight," He Said Quietly. He,  Too,  Had

Something That He Wanted To Tell,  And The Less Light The Better.

Hugh Sighed And Relaxed Comfortably Into His Chair. The Shadows Were

Thick And Mysterious Behind Them; The Flames Leaped Merrily In The

Fireplace. Both Boys Sat Silent,  Staring Into The Fire.

Finally Hugh Spoke.

"I Met A Girt This Summer,  Carl," He Said Softly.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Little Peach. Awf'Lly Pretty. Dainty,  You Know. Awf'Lly

Dainty--Like A Little Kid. You Know."

Carl Had Slumped Down Into His Chair. He Was Smoking His Pipe And

Staring Pensively At The Flames. "Un-Huh. Go On."

"Well,  I Fell Pretty Hard. She Was So--Er,  Dainty. She Always Reminded

Me Of A Little Girl Playing Lady. She Had Golden Hair And Blue Eyes,  The

Bluest Eyes I'Ve Ever Seen; Oh,  Lots Bluer Than Mine,  Lots Bluer. And

Little Bits Of Hands And Feet."

Carl Continued To Puff His Pipe And Stare At The Fire. "Pet?" He Asked

Dreamily.

"Uh-Huh. Yeah,  She Petted--But She Was Kinda Funny--Cold,  You Know,  And

Kinda Scared. Gee,  Carl,  I Was Crazy About Her. I--I Even Wrote Her A

Poem. I Guess It Wasn'T Very Good,  But I Don'T Think She Knew What It

Was About. I Guess I'M Off Her Now,  Though. She'S Too Cold. I Don'T Want

A Girl To Fall Over Me--My Last Girl Did That--But,  Golly,  Carl,  Janet

Didn'T Understand. I Don'T Think She Knows Anything About Love."

"Some Of 'Em Don'T," Carl Remarked Philosophically,  Slipping Deeper Into

His Chair. "They Just Pet."

"That'S The Way She Was. She Liked Me To Hold Her And Kiss Her Just As

Long As I Acted Like A Big Brother,  But,  Criminy,  When I Felt That Soft

Little Thing In My Arms,  I Didn'T Feel Like A Big Brother; I Loved Her

Like Hell.... She Was Awfully Sweet," He Added Regretfully; "I Wish She

Wasn'T So Cold."

"Hard Luck,  Old Man," Said Carl Consolingly,  "Hard Luck. Guess You

Picked An Iceberg."

For A Few Minutes The Room Was Quiet Except For The Crackling Of The

Fire,  Which Was Beginning To Burn Low. The Shadows Were Creeping Up On

The Boys; The Flames Were Less Merry.

Carl Took His Pipe Out Of His Mouth And Drawled Softly,  "I Had Better

Luck."

Hugh Pricked Up His Ears. "You Haven'T Really Fallen In Love,  Have You?"

He Demanded Eagerly. Carl Had Often Said That He Would Never Fall In

Love,  That He Was "Too Wise" To Women.

"No,  I Didn'T Fall In Love; Nothing Like That. I Met A Bunch Of Janes

Down At Bar Harbor. Some Of Them I'D Known Before,  But I Met Some New

Ones,  Too. Had A Damn Good Time. Some Of Those Janes Certainly Could

Neck,  And They Were Ready For It Any Time. Gee,  If The Old Lady Hadn'T

Been There,  I'D A Been Potted About Half The Time. As It Was,  I Drank

Enough Gin And Scotch To Float A Battle-Ship. Well,  The Old Lady Had To

Go To New York On Account Of Some Business; So I Went Down To Christmas

Cove To Visit Some People I Know There. Christmas Cove'S A Nice Place;

Not So High-Hat As Bar Harbor,  But Still It'S A Nice Place."

Hugh Felt That Carl Was Leaving The Main Track,  And He Hastened To

Shunt Him Back. "Sure," He Said In cheerful Agreement; "Sure It Is--But

What Happened?"

"What Happened? Oh--Oh,  Yes!" Carl Brought Himself Back To The Present

With An Obvious Effort. "Sure,  I'Ll Tell You What Happened. Well,  There

Was A Girl There Named Elaine Marston. She Wasn'T Staying With The Folks

I Was,  But They Knew Her,  So I Saw A Lot Of Her. See?"

"Sure." Hugh Wished He Would Hurry Up. Carl Didn'T Usually Wander All

Over When Telling A Story. This Must Be Something Special.

"Well,  I Saw Lots Of Her. Lots. Pretty Girl,  Nice Family And Everything,

But She Liked Her Booze And She Liked To Pet. Awful Hot Kid. Well,  One

Night We Went To A Dance,  And Between Dances We Had A Lot Of Gin I Had

Brought With Me. Good Stuff,  Too. I Bought It Off A Guy Who Brought It

Down From Canada Himself. Where Was I? Oh,  Yes,  At The Dance. We Both

Got Pie-Eyed; I Was All Liquored Up,  And I Guess She Was,  Too. After The

Dance Was Over,  I Dared Her To Walk Over To South Bristol--That'S Just

Across The Island,  You Know--And Then Walk Back Again. Well,  We Hadn'T

Gone Far When We Decided To Sit Down. We Were Both Kinda Dizzy From The

Gin. You Have To Go Through The Woods,  You Know,  And It'S Dark As Hell

In There At Night.... We Sat Down Among Some Ferns And I