Something I've Been Meaning to Tell You

Peebles, making friends with them, and he would mention seeing me that first afternoon, dressed up. Why not mention it? He would think it was funny. And no idea of the trouble it would get me into.
    After supper the Peebles drove into town to go to a movie. She wanted to go somewhere with her hair fresh done. I sat in my bright kitchen wondering what to do, knowing I would never sleep. Mrs. Peebles might not fire me, when she found out, but it would give her a different feeling about me altogether. This was the first place I ever worked but I already had picked up things about the way people feel when you are working for them. They like to think you aren’t curious. Not just that you aren’t dishonest, that isn’t enough. They like to feel you don’t notice things, that you don’t think or wonder about anything but what they liked to eat and how they like things ironed, and so on. I don’t mean they weren’t kind to me, because they were. They had me eat my meals with them (to tell the truth I expected to, I didn’t know there were families who don’t) and sometimes they took me along in the car. But all the same.
    I went up and checked on the children being asleep and then I went out. I had to do it. I crossed the road and went in the old fairgrounds gate. The plane looked unnatural sitting there, and shining with the moon. Off at the far side of the fairgrounds, where the bush was taking over, I saw his tent.
    He was sitting outside it smoking a cigarette. He saw me coming.
    “Hello, were you looking for a plane ride? I don’t start taking people up till tomorrow.” Then he looked again and said, “Oh, it’s you. I didn’t know you without your long dress on.”
    My heart was knocking away, my tongue was dried up. I had to say something. But I couldn’t. My throat was closed and I was like a deaf-and-dumb.
    “Did you want a ride? Sit down. Have a cigarette.”
    I couldn’t even shake my head to say no, so he gave me one.
    “Put it in your mouth or I can’t light it. It’s a good thing I’m used to shy ladies.”
    I did. It wasn’t the first time I had smoked a cigarette, actually. My girl friend out home, Muriel Lower, used to steal them from her brother.
    “Look at your hand shaking. Did you just want to have a chat, or what?”
    In one burst I said, “I wisht you wouldn’t say anything about that dress.”
    “What dress? Oh, the long dress.”
    “It’s Mrs. Peebles’.”
    “Whose?” Oh, the lady you work for? Is that it? She wasn’t home so you got dressed up in her dress, eh? You got dressed up and played queen. I don’t blame you. You’re not smoking that cigarette right. Don’t just puff. Draw it in. Did nobody ever show you how to inhale? Are you scared I’ll tell on you? Is that it?”
    I was so ashamed at having to ask him to connive this way I couldn’t nod. I just looked at him and he saw yes .
    “Well I won’t. I won’t in the slightest way mention it or embarrass you. I give you my word of honor.”
    Then he changed the subject, to help me out, seeing I couldn’t even thank him.
    “What do you think of this sign?”
    It was a board sign lying practically at my feet.
    SEE THE WORLD FROM THE SKY. ADULTS $1.00 , CHILDREN 50¢ . QUALIFIED PILOT .
    “My old sign was getting pretty beat up, I thought I’d make a new one. That’s what I’ve been doing with my time today.”
    The lettering wasn’t all that handsome, I thought. I could have done a better one in half an hour.
    “I’m not an expert at sign making.”
    “It’s very good,” I said.
    “I don’t need it for publicity, word of mouth is usually enough. I turned away two carloads tonight. I felt like taking it easy. I didn’t tell them ladies were dropping in to visit me.”
    Now I remembered the children and I was scared again, in case one of them had waked up and called me and I wasn’t there.
    “Do you have to go so soon?”
    I remembered some manners. “Thank you for the cigarette.”
    “Don’t forget. You have my word of honor.”
    I tore off across the fairgrounds, scared I’d see the car heading home from town. My sense of time was mixed up, I didn’t know how long I’d been out of the house. But it was all right, it wasn’t late, the children were asleep. I got in bed myself and lay thinking what a lucky end to the day, after all, and among things to be grateful for I could be grateful Loretta Bird hadn’t been the one who caught me.

    The yard and borders didn’t get trampled, it