The Early Stories of Truman Capote by Truman Capote

child,” she said softly as she stood up and gathered her coat about her. “We had to take Jamie to the hospital last night.”
    “Won’t he be able to read the comics?” Teddy asked anxiously.
    “Yes,” she smiled, “yes, of course—it’ll keep him busy. The only thing I’m worrying about is whether I’ll be able to carry them all.” She lifted the big package and sighed wearily. Frisky jumped around, pulling at the leash and almost making her drop them.
    “Stop that, Frisky,” Teddy cried.
    “Well, thanks again, Teddy. I can’t stay today.” She waved her hand and started down the path. Frisky pulled back toward Teddy.
    “Will you be here tomorrow?” Teddy called.
    “I don’t know—maybe,” she called back; then she turned a bend and disappeared.
    He wanted to run after her, to go with her to the hospital and see Jamie, and to play with Frisky and have the woman kiss him on the cheek again and tell him that he was a sweet child. Instead he went to the playground where he met Miss Julie and went home.
    The next day he came to the park and went directly to the bench, but there was no one there. He waited for an hour and a half, and then, with a sudden sick knowledge, he knew that she wasn’t coming—that she would never be back and that he would never see her again, nor Frisky. He wanted to cry, but he wouldn’t let himself.
    The next day was Sunday and he couldn’t go to the park. In the morning he went to church. Then his grandmother came to visit, and she mooned over him all afternoon.
    “If you ask me, Ellen, that child’s sick! He’s been acting strange all afternoon. Why, I gave him money to go get a soda and he said he didn’t want one. He said he wanted a dog, a wire haired dog that he could call Frisky. Now if that isn’t the strangest thing!”
    And that night his father tried to pry it out of him.
    “Son, aren’t you feeling well? You can tell me if there’s anything wrong?”
    Teddy pursed his small mouth. “Well, Papa, it’s a dog, a little dog called Frisky—a sick boy’s mother—Jamie—he—”
    His mother came to the door. “Bill, if we’re going to the Abbotts’ you’d better hurry. They expect us for cocktails at seven.”
    His father got up, looked at his watch and said, “I’ll see you about this some other time, Son.” Then he went out, and shortly afterward Teddy heard the apartment door slam.
    He was lying stretched out across his bed crying when Miss Julie came in. She was very excited and her face was all flushed. She took him in her arms, and patted his head. It was the first time he had ever known her to comfort anyone. For a moment he almost liked her.
    “Guess what, Teddy! Oh you just never will guess! Guess what?”
    He looked up and stopped crying. “I don’t want to guess. I don’t feel like guessing. My mother and father don’t love me—no one loves me—leastwise no one you know.”
    Miss Julie scoffed.
    “Oh what a little ninnie you are, Teddy. Silly boy—oh well, I suppose we all go through this age.”
    Miss Julie and her ages!
    “But you haven’t guessed yet. Oh, well, I’ll tell you. Mr. O’Flaherty has asked me to marry him!” Her face was wreathed in smile.
    “Are you going to?” he asked.
    She held out her hand and exhibited a silver ring with an amethyst stone, which Teddy took for an engagement ring.
    Then she got up and hurried into her room. She did not come in to put him to bed that night nor to open the window.
    The next morning he awoke very early. No one was up, not even Miss Julie, and no sound came from his parents’ bed room, nor the maid’s. Cautiously and quietly he dressed. Then he stole out of the apartment and down the long corridor toward the stairs. He did not dare ring for the elevator.
    In the park it was chilly but beautiful. There was no one there except one man asleep on a bench. He was all huddled up and looked so cold and hungry and ugly that Teddy raced past him without daring to look a second