12. GAME LITTLE KID
TYPE:
The out-of-door man who smokes a pipe and can hit twice in the same place when chopping wood. One who believes in Pure Womanhood; who would die for his country and kill any man with designs on his wife.
SUBJECT:
Rather young, wistful and easy to flatter. Does not know what she believes, but reflects the philosophy of any companion.
APPARATUS:
1 Picnic Spot
1 Fire
1 Pipe
REMARKS:
They make very attractive flannel shirts nowadays.
GAME LITTLE KID
She watches you lazily while you souse the dishes in the lake and wipe them clumsily. She feels rather guilty about it, but at the beginning of the hike you have insisted on taking care of everything. It is your party. And it is a nice party, too. The moon is there, and the air is warm, and somewhere there is a flower that smells very sweet. She closes her eyes and leans against the rock and feels happy.
Knock the ashes out of your pipe and sit down by her, taking her hand in yours. “Swell night,” you say.
“Oh, yes! I’m having a good time.”
“So am I. I’ve had a better time today than I can remember since I don’t know when.”
“Really?” she protests smiling. “How about that race at Mackinac?”
“That was pretty good too. Only you weren’t along. It could have been perfect.”
She laughs easily. “I’d have been in the way. You’ve never tried telling me anything else before. What’s the matter with you tonight? Getting soft?”
“Not much use of that, is there?” You both chuckle. “You’re too cagey. I couldn’t say anything nice to you even if I meant it. You’d bite my head off.”
“Sure!”
Push her in mock exasperation, then take her hand again. She is a little uneasy about it, and leans over to tie her boot-lace more securely.
“Well, it’s all right with me,” say suddenly. “You know, you’re a pretty game kid.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“You sure are. Lots of people must have told you so before. I like you. Do you know it?”
“Glad you do,” she says. “I like you.”
“There, that’s just what I mean.” Fill your pipe again. “Saying it out, frankly, like that.”
“Why shouldn’t I, if it’s true?”
“Well, I don’t really know why you shouldn’t. But most girls wouldn’t. You know how women are.”
“Sure,” she says, largely.
“Gee,” you cry. “The way you say that! Funny kid.”
“Now, what sounded funny about that?”
“Oh, I don’t know. It sounded so boyish. You’re just like a boy, now that I think of it.” Turn and smile at her.
“Thanks! I always wanted to be a boy.”
“I’ll bet you did. Gosh, though, I wouldn’t if I were you.”
“Why not?”
“Girls have a much better time. I wouldn’t mind if someone had to buy my tickets and take me out to dinner once in a while.”
She thinks about it for a minute, poking the fire with the toe of her heavy boot. “I’m not sure,” she says slowly. “We pay for it, in a way. Suppose you had to see as much of some of the idiots that we do? You can just ask anyone you want; we have to wait till we’re asked.”
“Yes, that’s so. Some of them are pretty bad, I guess.” You laugh. “Anyway, I always thought some of your friends were, but I never dared to say so. What’s the matter with ’em, exactly?”
“They’re so stupid!” she cries. “They think all a girl is good for is to paw. They haven’t any idea of real fun at all.”
“I know.” Pat her arm comfortingly. “Just grab you as soon they look at you, don’t they? Most men are like that, I guess. I don’t understand it myself. I’m no saint, but I couldn’t have anything to do with a girl unless I liked her. Do you understand?”
“Of course,” she says, flushing a little in excitement. “I feel that way exactly. I’m so glad you do too. I was beginning to think that men were just different. Most of them——”
“Sure. Honestly, do they bother you so much?” You frown.
“Yes, even me. Can you imagine? Me!”
“That just shows you. If you’ll pardon my being frank....”
“Of course.”
“I can’t imagine anything like that, with you.”
“Certainly. I know. That’s why we get along so well, isn’t it?”
“We are—friends, aren’t we?”
“Sure!”
Squeeze her hand and puff at your pipe, thinking deeply. Then sigh, and say, “Funny thing, sex.”
“Isn’t it!”
“You know, it’s wonderful to be able to talk like this to a girl. I couldn’t if you were really a—a woman in my mind. But I don’t feel that way about you at all. You’re my friend. You don’t appeal to me that way.”
She wonders vaguely if she likes that. But she answers quickly. “Thank you. I know you mean it. You know, a friendship like that is valuable to me, too. I need it. I used to think that no matter how much I tried, it was just impossible to have a man for a real friend.”
“Really? Then we’re square, because you mean a lot to me.”
Put your arm around her and look into the fire.
“That’s another thing,” she says, thoughtfully. “That’s another reason I wish I could be a man. You have an awfully easy time with that sort of thing, don’t you?”
“What? Gosh, no. I don’t see how anybody could think so.”
“Really? I always thought you did. I don’t know very much about it, but——”
“I’m glad you don’t!” you growl with such fervor that she is surprised.
“What’s the matter? You shouldn’t care anything about what I do—like that. Not if we’re friends the way you say.”
“Well, I’ll tell you.” Pull her closer to your shoulder. “I can’t break away from a funny idea I have about you. I want you to stay just as straight as you are. It’s a queer thing, sex. I don’t want you spoiled. That fine straightness of yours is so rare. I guess I’m selfish to want anyone to live up to my ideals, but I do want you to keep it.” Give her a little hug.
She answers gravely. “Yes, I know. I want to stay the way I am, too. I don’t know how I really feel about it, I guess, but I do—I mean, I like myself now, do you see? It’s awfully hard to express.”
“I know. Gee, you’re a peach, kid. I do like you.”
“Thanks....” Kiss her softly on the cheek. “Look!” she cries, sitting up a little straighter. “There’s a shooting star.”
“It’s awfully nice. Come back here. Afraid of me?”
“Of course not!” But she sits up.
“You don’t trust me?”
“Don’t! Of course I do.”
“Then why act like that? You’ll hurt my feelings.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to!” She settles back against your shoulder. Kiss her on the mouth; she struggles away.
“What’s the matter, dear?” you murmur. “I thought you trusted me. What’s the matter?”
“Why, I didn’t mean—I do trust you. Only....” She stops and looks away from you.
“Then what is it? I don’t understand. Do you mean you—you can’t trust yourself? I thought you were so sensible about these things.”
“Of course I can. I’m not a man!”
“No, dear. But you’re a woman, aren’t you? Are you afraid, really?”
“I’m not afraid. I just didn’t want to.”
“Oh, I’m sorry....”
“I didn’t mean I didn’t want to.”
“Just don’t care?”
“Not exactly that....”
Laugh. “You’re a darling. I’m going to kiss you again. That’ll be all right?”
“Sure, I guess so.”
“You really liked it.”
“A little.”
“Don’t keep moving away like that! I’ll think you hate me. You just said we were friends.”
“Yes, but....”
“Comfortable?”
“Yes, but....”
“There now, I won’t bother you any more if you’ll only show that you trust me. Darling!”
The fire smolders, unnoticed.