Chapter: NOBODY KNOWS

Looking cautiously about, George Willard arose from his
desk in the office of the Winesburg Eagle and went
hurriedly out at the back door. The night was warm and
cloudy and although it was not yet eight o'clock, the
alleyway back of the Eagle office was pitch dark. A
team of horses tied to a post somewhere in the darkness
stamped on the hard-baked ground. A cat sprang from
under George Willard's feet and ran away into the
night. The young man was nervous. All day he had gone
about his work like one dazed by a blow. In the
alleyway he trembled as though with fright.

In the darkness George Willard walked along the
alleyway, going carefully and cautiously. The back
doors of the Winesburg stores were open and he could
see men sitting about under the store lamps. In
Myerbaum's Notion Store Mrs. Willy the saloon keeper's
wife stood by the counter with a basket on her arm. Sid
Green the clerk was waiting on her. He leaned over the
counter and talked earnestly.

George Willard crouched and then jumped through the
path of light that came out at the door. He began to
run forward in the darkness. Behind Ed Griffith's
saloon old Jerry Bird the town drunkard lay asleep on
the ground. The runner stumbled over the sprawling
legs. He laughed brokenly.

George Willard had set forth upon an adventure. All day
he had been trying to make up his mind to go through
with the adventure and now he was acting. In the office
of the Winesburg Eagle he had been sitting since six
o'clock trying to think.

There had been no decision. He had just jumped to his
feet, hurried past Will Henderson who was reading proof
in the printshop and started to run along the alleyway.

Through street after street went George Willard,
avoiding the people who passed. He crossed and
recrossed the road. When he passed a street lamp he
pulled his hat down over his face. He did not dare
think. In his mind there was a fear but it was a new
kind of fear. He was afraid the adventure on which he
had set out would be spoiled, that he would lose
courage and turn back.

George Willard found Louise Trunnion in the kitchen of
her father's house. She was washing dishes by the light
of a kerosene lamp. There she stood behind the screen
door in the little shedlike kitchen at the back of the
house. George Willard stopped by a picket fence and
tried to control the shaking of his body. Only a narrow
potato patch separated him from the adventure. Five
minutes passed before he felt sure enough of himself to
call to her. "Louise! Oh, Louise!" he called. The cry
stuck in his throat. His voice became a hoarse whisper.

Louise Trunnion came out across the potato patch
holding the dish cloth in her hand. "How do you know I
want to go out with you," she said sulkily. "What makes
you so sure?"

George Willard did not answer. In silence the two
stood in the darkness with the fence between them. "You
go on along," she said. "Pa's in there. I'll come
along. You wait by Williams' barn."

The young newspaper reporter had received a letter from
Louise Trunnion. It had come that morning to the office
of the Winesburg Eagle. The letter was brief. "I'm
yours if you want me," it said. He thought it annoying
that in the darkness by the fence she had pretended
there was nothing between them. "She has a nerve! Well,
gracious sakes, she has a nerve," he muttered as he
went along the street and passed a row of vacant lots
where corn grew. The corn was shoulder high and had
been planted right down to the sidewalk.

When Louise Trunnion came out of the front door of her
house she still wore the gingham dress in which she had
been washing dishes. There was no hat on her head. The
boy could see her standing with the doorknob in her
hand talking to someone within, no doubt to old Jake
Trunnion, her father. Old Jake was half deaf and she
shouted. The door closed and everything was dark and
silent in the little side street. George Willard
trembled more violently than ever.

In the shadows by Williams' barn George and Louise
stood, not daring to talk. She was not particularly
comely and there was a black smudge on the side of her
nose. George thought she must have rubbed her nose with
her finger after she had been handling some of the
kitchen pots.

The young man began to laugh nervously. "It's warm,"
he said. He wanted to touch her with his hand. "I'm not
very bold," he thought. Just to touch the folds of the
soiled gingham dress would, he decided, be an exquisite
pleasure. She began to quibble. "You think you're
better than I am. Don't tell me, I guess I know," she
said drawing closer to him.

A flood of words burst from George Willard. He
remembered the look that had lurked in the girl's eyes
when they had met on the streets and thought of the
note she had written. Doubt left him. The whispered
tales concerning her that had gone about town gave him
confidence. He became wholly the male, bold and
aggressive. In his heart there was no sympathy for her.
"Ah, come on, it'll be all right. There won't be anyone
know anything. How can they know?" he urged.

They began to walk along a narrow brick sidewalk
between the cracks of which tall weeds grew. Some of
the bricks were missing and the sidewalk was rough and
irregular. He took hold of her hand that was also rough
and thought it delightfully small. "I can't go far,"
she said and her voice was quiet, unperturbed.

They crossed a bridge that ran over a tiny stream and
passed another vacant lot in which corn grew. The
street ended. In the path at the side of the road they
were compelled to walk one behind the other. Will
Overton's berry field lay beside the road and there was
a pile of boards. "Will is going to build a shed to
store berry crates here," said George and they sat down
upon the boards.

            *       *       *

When George Willard got back into Main Street it was
past ten o'clock and had begun to rain. Three times he
walked up and down the length of Main Street. Sylvester
West's Drug Store was still open and he went in and
bought a cigar. When Shorty Crandall the clerk came out
at the door with him he was pleased. For five minutes
the two stood in the shelter of the store awning and
talked. George Willard felt satisfied. He had wanted
more than anything else to talk to some man. Around a
corner toward the New Willard House he went whistling
softly.

On the sidewalk at the side of Winney's Dry Goods Store
where there was a high board fence covered with circus
pictures, he stopped whistling and stood perfectly
still in the darkness, attentive, listening as though
for a voice calling his name. Then again he laughed
nervously. "She hasn't got anything on me. Nobody
knows," he muttered doggedly and went on his way.

 George Willard hurriedly leaves his desk at the 'Eagle' office and makes his way through the night. All day at the office, he had been in a daze thought and eventually at six' o clock he finally decides to set forth upon his adventure. George passes street after street, avoiding known faces until he reaches his father's house he finds Louise Trunnion the servant girl, in the kitchen. On seeing him, she suddenly retorts that he shouldn't have been so certain that she would have accompanied her out, George is flummoxed, since it was Louise who has earlier sent him a letter with the terse message, "I'm yours if you want me." Annoyed at her impertinence, George walks out, but Louise follows him. They reach a secluded barn and stand still, facing each other. George is excited by her touch. The whispered tale concerning her that had gone about town gives him confidence. Urging her that no one will come to know, they walk ahead, till they reach a field and they lie down besides each other. When George returns back to Main Street, it is after ten-o clock He feels satisfied and begins to whistle softly. As he goes ahead, he however mutters uneasily to himself, "She hasn't got anything on me. Nobody knows."

