Evan Connell: Mr. Bridge

She walked out of the kitchen. He did not see her again until the next day. Ordinarily she liked to sit around listening to the adult conversation.

He waited for her to bring up the subject again, but she did not. He began to reproach himself because his tone had been sharp and he decided it might be best to have a talk with her, so one night he suggested they go into the study. Obediently she followed him upstairs. He shut the door and sat down at his desk.

“I wanted to talk to you about Prohibition,” he said. “You remember the evening when Mr. and Mrs. Lutweiler and Mr. and Mrs. Arlen were here?”

She nodded.

“I did not break the law,” he said, and tapped the desk for emphasis. “The Eighteenth Amendment to our Constitution prohibits only the manufacture, sale, and transportation of intoxicating beverages. It does not specifically prohibit the use of such beverages. Now, I am not scolding you,” he went on. “Please don’t misunderstand. This so-called ‘law’—this amendment to our Constitution — is absurd and it will be repealed before much longer. There’s no doubt about it. This law came into being through the shortsightedness of a few people a good many years ago. Let me it explain it this way: Some people became very distressed about public drunkenness, and they were quite right, so they banded together and eventually became powerful enough to force this legislation through Congress. However, they were not wise enough to foresee the consequences. What has happened is that Prohibition has encouraged bootlegging, because you cannot tell people how to live their lives. That is the great danger of government. A certain amount of government is necessary, but Thomas Jefferson was correct in saying that we ought to have as little government as possible. This country at the present time has too much government. The government interferes with the rights and privileges of private citizens. It’s getting worse every year. The labor unions, for example, are forcing more and more people to do whatever the union leaders say they should. This is an example of poor government and the President of the United States does not have sense enough to put a stop to it. These left-wing unions are wrecking our national economy. Lord only knows where it’s going to end. However, to get back to what we were talking about — I don’t approve of bootlegging. I dislike doing business with these people. At the same time, I do enjoy a cocktail before dinner and your mother enjoys a small glass of sherry. You have never known either of us to behave badly after a drink, have you?”

Carolyn sat rigidly on the edge of the couch. She was biting her upper lip. Her face was as hard as the face of a doll. He sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“You’re acting silly. I don’t expect you to understand this Prohibition nonsense, and since you don’t understand it I don’t think you ought to set yourself up as a judge of anyone’s conduct. Some cranky old men and a bunch of foolish women are responsible for this situation. I don’t know how much longer we will have to put up with it, but until this amendment is repealed I intend to have a drink when I feel the need of one. I work very hard at the office so that you and your mother and brother and sister will have enough to eat and a decent place to live, and a drink now and then relaxes me. There is no harm in it.”

He had explained his position and he knew he was right.

“Are you disappointed in us?” he asked. “Are you disappointed in your mother because she enjoys a small glass of sherry?”

Carolyn would not respond.

For a long time they confronted each other. Finally the silence became unbearable, so he let her go.

One evening when they had been invited out he decided to wear a suit he had not worn for several months. When he pulled on the trousers they felt tight. He could not understand this because he did not think he had been gaining weight; however, to be sure he walked into the bathroom and stepped on the scale. He peered at the dial and found he weighed no more than usual, perhaps a pound or so, but not enough to make the pants uncomfortable. He took them off and looked at them suspiciously. After a few moments he put them on again. But again they did not fit, so he once more took them off and sat down on the bed to think.

Presently he stood up, holding his pants in one hand, took a deep breath in front of the mirror, and observed his chest and his waist. Naturally one’s body changed shape with the passage of time and he was no longer twenty, but he was not seventy. He could see no change in his body. It had always been a lean body, generally supple and not ungraceful considering its length, never a body that caused women to turn around, yet it was not bad — it was not bad, it was Lincolnesque, he thought, and he felt proud of it. And because it looked the same as always he did not know why his pants would not fit.

He went back to the bed and sat down again.

He thought about the Mission Country Club where he had paid dues for a number of years. He had not used the club very much. There was a swimming pool and he had intended to stop by for a swim after leaving the office; and there were tennis courts and he had thought he would find time for tennis. Then there was the golf course. But he had remained at the office every afternoon until it was too late. That was the way it had been, and the weekends mysteriously slipped away.

He tried to remember the last time he had gone swimming. It had been the year before last, or perhaps the year before that; and he had not once used the tennis courts or the golf course. Occasionally there was a party or an event of some sort, otherwise he almost never visited the club. His wife went more often because her women friends liked to spend afternoons at the pool, and of course as the children grew up they would be using the club facilities, so it was worthwhile to retain the membership. But he ought to be using it himself. Certainly it was his own fault if he did not; he could arrange to leave the office earlier and go for a swim, play tennis, or do whatever else he felt like doing. Yet somehow this was impossible. He knew he could not quit work at three o‘clock or four o’clock. Some men did this and he resented the fact that they did; they ought to keep working until five or six.

Mr. Bridge frowned at his pants. He lifted them and gave them a shake in case they were getting wrinkled. Then he relapsed into thought.

If it was not feasible to go to the club at least he could do calisthenics in the bedroom. Many people did that, and no doubt it was beneficial. Five or ten minutes every morning ought to produce results. Then, too, it would be easy enough to go for a brisk walk around the block every evening. And downtown there ought to be more walking and less taxi riding.

Mrs. Bridge came into the bedroom. She looked at him sitting on the edge of the bed in his shorts with his trousers across his knees.

He said to her: “Did you send these to the cleaner’s?” If she had sent the pants to the cleaner’s they might have shrunk, which of course would explain the situation and make calisthenics unnecessary.

“I haven’t touched them,” she said. “Do they need to be cleaned?”

“No,” he said. “I was just wondering.”

“Is a button missing?”

“No. Nothing’s wrong,” he said.

Then he put on his trousers for a third time and decided he could get through the evening, which he did; but as soon as he got home he took them off and handed them to her, saying they ought to be let out a little.

The children wanted a pet rabbit. Carolyn in particular was pleading for a rabbit. Now Douglas and to some extent Ruth had joined the familiar chorus. A rabbit would not be any trouble, they would take good care of it, feed it, clean the pen every day, and so on and so forth. For a while Mr. Bridge avoided saying yes or no and hoped that the clamor would diminish. He was not anxious to have a rabbit around the house. It would get sick and die. Or the children would tire of it, and then what? But Easter was approaching, and he sensed that his wife was on their side, so at last he conceded: he handed her a five-dollar bill and said all right, since a rabbit was what they wanted, get them a rabbit.