Evan Connell - Mr. Bridge

After inspecting him that evening Mr. Bridge handed him his customary allowance. Neither of them said a word. Integrity had been defeated, there was no question about it.

Much to the astonishment of everybody, possibly excepting his mother, Douglas finally managed to become an Eagle Scout. He had started off rapidly, almost spectacularly. Soon after becoming a Tenderfoot at the age of twelve he had passed his tests and been promoted to Second Class. But then he began to slow down. He had difficulty passing the first-aid examination required for promotion to First Class; after failing twice he gathered himself for a major effort, passed it, and was then seen on Tuesday nights dressed in his khaki uniform and white neckerchief with the big First Class badge pinned to his breast pocket. The next rank was Star. The insignia was smaller and simpler than First Class, with greater dignity, and represented a sharp advance and separation. The examinations were more detailed. Five merit badges were required. Douglas earned five merit badges without much effort, and his mother sewed the little felt emblems on his sash. To become a Life Scout, privileged to wear a brilliant red metal heart, an additional five merit badges were required; and here a familiar problem came up because these five were not optional and one of them was First Aid. The consequence of this was that he remained a Star Scout for almost a year, with nine merit badges on his sash.

His mother encouraged him. She was sure he could do it. He was not so sure. He pointed out to her, as well as to anybody else who cared to listen, how difficult it was, how practically impossible it was to earn the Merit Badge in First Aid. For instance, one had to demonstrate preparations for transporting a person with a compound fracture of the forearm. Prepare and apply a splint to a broken thigh. Demonstrate control of bleeding from a varicose vein in the leg. Control arterial bleeding on wrist and calf of leg simultaneously. Show what to do in case a person chokes from drawing water or food into the windpipe. Tell the dangers involved in transporting an injured person when the extent of injury is not known. Demonstrate what to do if a companion dives into shallow water, strikes his head, staggers ashore, and falls unconscious. Demonstrate treatment by covering, position, and heating devices for severe shock.

And all of this, Douglas claimed, was only the beginning. But his mother said she was sure he could do it. Finally he believed her, and he became a Life Scout.

Eagle Scout, the culmination, required twenty-one merit badges. Thirteen of these were mandatory, including Bird Study, Cooking, Personal and Public Health, Pathfinding, Pioneering, Physical Development, and Civics. But the bete noire of First Aid had been vanquished. One colorful little emblem after another was sewn to the khaki sash, which was beginning to resemble a flower garden, until he had nineteen of them. But again he became discouraged. He had been a scout for more than three years. It would be a fine thing to become an Eagle Scout, and only two more merit badges were necessary; but he had gone through the list of requirements in the handbook again and again looking for two easy ones and had not found any. He doubted if he could make it. His mother said she was sure he could.

He qualified just in time to receive his badge at the annual Boy Scout Roundup in the municipal auditorium. Scouts from all the troops in Kansas City and nearby towns were to be there, and more than one hundred Eagle badges would be awarded. The mother of each new Eagle Scout was invited to accompany her son during the ceremony. When Douglas somewhat diffidently inquired if his mother would be interested in this she told him she would not miss it for the world.

So on that night one hundred mothers, each with a red rose pinned to her breast, were seated on folding chairs on the floor of the arena, and beside each mother stood her son. They listened to speeches, and the audience enthusiastically applauded every speaker. Then the Scouts were summoned to the front of the auditorium where they filed across the stage, received their Eagle badges, and shook hands with the mayor. After this they marched back to stand at attention beside their mothers. Next came the moment Douglas had been dreading. At a signal he was expected to bend over and kiss his mother on the cheek. The idea of one hundred Eagle Scouts bending over to kiss their mothers at exactly the same instant gave him a feeling of extreme discomfort. What was wrong with this public act of devotion he did not know, but something was wrong. When the signal was given and the band struck up “America the Beautiful” he pretended to be confused; he remained standing more or less at attention, turning his head from side to side. He hoped his mother would believe he was attempting to discover what was going on, and presumably by the time he found out it would be too late.

Mrs. Bridge sat quietly with her hands in her lap, an expectant smile on her face, but nothing happened.

High up in the huge auditorium Mr. Bridge observed this. He was so far from the floor that it was difficult to distinguish individuals, but when ninety-nine Eagle Scouts leaned over to kiss their mothers, and one did not, he recognized his son. He surmised that Douglas was embarrassed. It was not that Douglas did not love his mother, simply that he had reached an age where he was unable to kiss her in public. The only puzzling thing was why Douglas took the problem more seriously than other boys in the same situation. Mr. Bridge could not understand this. It annoyed him. However, he did not intend to talk to his son about it. What concerned him more was the effect on his wife. She had been hurt, he knew. She did not say anything about it after the Roundup while they were driving home, but he knew.

As they were getting ready for bed he said to her, “Let me make up for that,” and with no other word of explanation he put his arms around her. Then she began to cry, and she was still crying a little when at last she fell asleep in his arms.

Each night before going to bed he locked the downstairs windows and doors. Robberies in Mission Hills were rare, and a watchman patrolled the neighborhood; even so, there was always the possibility. Through the years he had tried to impress upon the children the necessity of locking up, because one day they would have homes of their own, yet he was not sure they had taken the lesson seriously. Perhaps Carolyn did. But he worried about Ruth and Douglas. Many times he had pointed out that it took only a few minutes to check the doors and windows. This was a small investment to make in return for security. They listened, but if he asked whether or not they agreed, they agreed with no enthusiasm as though they only wished to avoid a lecture or an argument. He worried particularly about Ruth because she was living alone in New York, and usually when he wrote to her he reminded her to bolt the door before going to bed. As for Douglas, the only thing to do was to remind him continually that carelessness could be costly; and since he was almost sixteen years old, old enough to assume more responsibility for the house, Mr. Bridge decided to turn the job over to him.

Douglas, being informed that henceforth he was responsible for locking up, instantly replied that he would forget.

Mr. Bridge responded that for this very reason the job was his, so he would learn never to forget.

Most unwillingly Douglas accepted the role. Every night he made the rounds protesting and complaining while Mr. Bridge followed him from window to window to door, examining each latch to make sure the job was properly done. After they had locked up like this for about three weeks Mr. Bridge felt he had been sufficiently trained, and quit following him. However, the knowledge that he himself had not checked everything afflicted him so that he did not sleep very well.