Evan Connell - Mr. Bridge

Carolyn rejected this. She wanted her money.

Mr. Bridge realized the problem was not going to be solved as simply as he had thought. Carolyn obviously had no intention of sharing the wealth. She had discovered the joy of money and she was not about to relinquish this luxury to which she was becoming accustomed, certainly not in exchange for some neighborhood utopia where each boy and girl had a dollar. She wanted all of it. Her face was tight and pinched. Suddenly she burst into frantic sobs. He opened his arms. She rushed to him and clung to him, crying bitterly while he stroked her head and patted her shoulder.

When she had exhausted herself he asked if she knew what the word “avarice” meant. She did not, so he said: “I want you to go downstairs and look in the dictionary. Find out what word means. Then come back and tell me.” She asked how to spell it. He spelled it for her and she went away.

Very soon she was back. She stared at him reproachfully. They discussed the matter some more. She was sullen and peevish. She was not yet reconciled to what had happened, but he thought the point of her rage had been deflected because she was no longer accusing the druggist; her quarrel now was with the implication that she was greedy.

He reflected, too, on the alacrity and the imagination with which she defended herself. Whatever qualities Ruth and Douglas might have to recommend themselves, it was becoming clear that Carolyn was the cleverest of the three.

Not long after Mr. Thayer disqualified her for winning too many of his jungle contests Carolyn entered another contest, this one sponsored by the Golden Grocery Stores to promote a new brand of ice cream. Any child who bought a quart of Golden Ice Cream was given a map of the world. The countries and the oceans were to be colored and the map returned to the neighborhood store. Prizes would be awarded for the best coloring. First prize was a deluxe bicycle loaded with accessories or a Shetland pony named Jiggs. The bicycle and Jiggs were photographed side by side on the entry blank. There were two second prizes, ten third prizes, and one hundred fourth prizes. Carolyn decided she would be satisfied with first or second, which was a five-tube radio, so she came home from school one afternoon carrying a quart of strawberry ice cream, the map, and the entry blank.

After some deliberation she went to work with a set of colored pencils. They were prettier than wax crayons, and watercolors would cause the paper to pucker. Every night for about three weeks she worked on the map. She worked carefully, and when it was done it was very nicely done — even her brother admitted this. Her mother announced that she was sure to win the contest, but her father reminded everybody that there would be quite a few maps colored just as neatly. Carolyn thought about this. She resented her father’s remark but she knew it was true. Then it occurred to her to emphasize the boundaries of each country with india ink. She consulted the rules. Outlining boundaries was not specifically prohibited. She bought a lettering pen in the dime store, went over the map with it, and was pleased with the result. The colors appeared much brighter by contrast with the black borders. There was, of course, the possibility of being disqualified again, but there was only one way to find out. She completed the entry blank and delivered it and the map to the grocery.

At ten o’clock on a Saturday morning the telephone rang. Carolyn was alone in the house except for Ruth, who was still asleep. When she answered the telephone a man inquired if her name was Carolyn Bridge. She said it was and he said he was Mr. Denny, the Golden Ice Cream contest director, and he congratulated her for winning first prize. She did not believe him. She thought it was a trick. However, after talking to him a few minutes she was convinced and told him she would take the bicycle. She already had a bicycle, but she did not particularly want a pony and it would be nice to have two bicycles.

Mr. Denny said the prizes were to be awarded next Saturday at noon at the Golden Grocery on Linwood Boulevard. Carolyn said she would be there. Mr. Denny said he looked forward to meeting her.

This conversation ended just as Harriet returned from next door. Carolyn told her the good news and announced that she was going to celebrate by making a pan of chocolate-nut fudge. She was at work on this when Douglas and his friend Bobby Tipton came into the kitchen to get a bottle of root beer, so she told them about winning the contest. A few minutes later Ruth wandered downstairs looking for breakfast, and she too was informed. Then Mrs. Bridge got back from shopping and reacted skeptically.

“Corky, you aren’t teasing, are you?” she asked.

“No. I won,” said Carolyn.

Mrs. Bridge set her packages on the kitchen table. “Well, dear, that’s wonderful,” she said as she began to pull off her gloves, “but are you sure?” Then Carolyn explained again who Mr. Denny was, and at last Mrs. Bridge felt reasonably convinced. She hugged Carolyn and congratulated her, and said, “It must have been quite a surprise!”

“No. I thought I’d win,” Carolyn said. She went back to chopping nuts for the fudge.

“Have you called your father?”

“I didn’t want to bother him.”

“I don’t believe he’ll mind,” Mrs. Bridge said. She picked up the telephone. “Let me see if he’s there.”

He was, and she handed the telephone to Carolyn.

“Well! Well!” he said after hearing the news. “That must have been a surprise, wasn’t it?”

“No. I thought I’d win,” Carolyn said.

“Oh,” he said. “Now, Cork, tell me. When you first talked about this thing I recall you saying there were two first prizes. Is that correct?”

“A Shetland pony and a bicycle.”

“So I thought. Since you have a bicycle why don’t you take the pony?”

“I don’t know how to ride.”

“Riding a pony is no trouble at all,” he said enthusiastically. “When I was a boy I used to go riding on the farm with my cousin. I believe I’ve told you about that. It was great fun, Carolyn. In my opinion you’ve made a mistake.”

“I already told Mr. Denny I wanted a bike.”

“Give me his number,” Mr. Bridge said.

“I don’t know it.”

“What’s the name of the outfit sponsoring this thing?”

“Golden Ice Cream. I don’t know how to ride a pony.”

“I’ll teach you myself,” said Mr. Bridge.

“Okay,” Carolyn said doubtfully. “But where are you going to keep him?”

“I’ll look into the matter. I expect we can make arrangements to stable him not too far away.”

“Do I have to pay for his food?”

“Of course not. I’ll take care of the expenses. I’m going to call up that fellow and tell him you’ve changed your mind.”

“His name is Jiggs.”

“You told me his name was Denny.”

“Jiggs is the pony.”

“All right,” Mr. Bridge said after this had been straightened out. “You’re going to enjoy riding, Cork. It’s great fun.”

“I guess I will.”

“I know you will. Now, is your mother there?”

“She went upstairs. Do you want to talk to her?”

“Tell her I’ll be home later than I expected and the rest of you are not to wait dinner on me. Julia was late getting to work and everything has been thrown off schedule.”

“Okay,” Carolyn said. “I sure don’t see you very much.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I have a great deal of work. Now be a good girl and I’ll call this fellow right away. Good-by.”

“Good-by, Daddy,” she answered somewhat wistfully.

Mr. Bridge had Julia locate the contest director. Mr. Denny was sympathetic and promised that Jiggs the pony would be waiting for Carolyn next Saturday.