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In early June of 2476 Elizabeth made a brief, required visit to the University and in her
mail box there found the following invitation: The annual Tutor's Dinner will be held on July 4th at 8.00 p.m. at my residence. Your attendance is expected. Kindly inform your legal guardians they also are expected to attend. The attached form should be completed and returned to me by July 21st. A. T. Williams, Tutor. From the moment she read the note Elizabeth knew that her father would not be happy about having to attend this dinner and, after her return to Granite Gorge, it was some time before she was able to pluck up the courage to bring it to his attention. When, finally at breakfast two morning later, she handed him the note his reaction was predictable. 'Well, I'm damn well not going and that's that! We have our own July 4th celebrations around here, as you know well enough!' 'I don't think you have any alternative, father,' she said quietly. He read the note again, a flush spreading across his domed, balding brow, his eyes looking as if they would pop out of his head, a smear of butter adhering to his upper lip. Finally he said through his teeth, 'Why the hell are they holding it on July 4th anyway? Last year it was in August, wasn't it? Those damn people have no sensibilities left. You know what that day is? For twenty-five years your mother and made a point of celebrating Independence Day. We always looked forward to the seven hundredth anniversary. By that time, we said, things would be moving in the right direction. Well, now they are and Don't intend to desecrate the memory of everything I believe in with those... barbarians!' 'I know how you feel,' said Elizabeth coldly. Now that it was out she felt better. Enough to feel insulted by his rudeness. 'but the Reverend Williams isn't like the Tutor I had last year. He's a well known dissolutionist. He wouldn't understand at all if you didn't come.' 'Well, that just too bad! What happened to that other man, anyway? He seemed a decent chap.' 'He went to the War, you knew that.' 'To decent I suppose! Why did you have to go back to that stupid place, anyway? I thought your classes were suspended for the duration?' 'You know I have to report on what I've been doing and collect work. Just imagine what would have happened if I hadn't picked that letter up and the Rev. Williams came looking for me.' 'Oh, go to Hell! I'm not going and that's that!' They lapsed into silence. She stood gazing through the window of the kitchen door into the conservatory. That was not that as they both knew, there was just too much at stake. He had to put on his performance, though and now he would go away and sulk. It was two weeks before he mentioned the subject again and July 4th was fast approaching. On June 28th she was upstairs in her room at the front of the house painting a chair. She wore a long white smock and her recently completed dress for the dinner lay on the bed. A stereo played four hundred year old jazz. 'Can I come in?' Bluemud stood in the doorway. He was a heavy set man in his early fifties, physically in excellent condition and his hands were thrust deep into the pockets of black, baggy overalls. Without waiting for her reply he made to sit on the bed beside the dress. 'Don't sit there, you'll wrinkle it!' 'Sorry.' He sat down instead on the armchair beside the window. 'That looks like a nice dress you've made.' 'Don't be condescending, father. You know quite well they have only five fabrics you can choose from and everybody'll be wearing the same thing.' 'I could have got you something from a Collecting Center if you'd asked.' 'Oh, yes, the Reverend Williams would be sure to be impressed by that!' 'There's no law against getting stuff from a Collecting Center. No law at all.' Elizabeth ignored this stupid remark and resumed her painting while Bluemud twiddled his thumbs. 'You're doing well. Nice color.' She continued to ignore him. 'Look, what's wrong, Elizabeth?' 'You know perfectly well what's wrong. You have to sign that invitation. If I don't take it to the Golden Lands and post it by the day after tomorrow it won't arrive in time. Then where will we be?' 'You're right. I've decided to sign it. Where is it?' Bluemud smiled awkwardly, rubbing his hands together, getting up. 'It's on the bureau there.' He signed the invitation without ceremony. 'We'll go up in the evening if it's all right with you.' 'I thought we'd go up in the afternoon. To be sure we're in plenty of time.' 'Oh? But what about the celebrations here?' She looked up at him suspiciously. 'We discussed that, father. There isn't going to be enough time.' 'But, Elizabeth,' he said plaintively, 'we always have something. With all these new workers we've got to have a parade. I've already written my speech. I thought you could read something from the Declaration of Independence and.. ' 'And if the weather was bad and we couldn't get there. Suppose they came looking for us?' 'I think it's the least you can do for me, Elizabeth.' 'I do a lot for you, father. It's the least you can do for me.' Bluemud went to the door. He said quietly as he went out, ' well if you're not going to do it I'll be damned if I'll come to your dinner.' 'Then don't' she shouted after him miserably. 'It'll be your funeral as much as mine. I'm going up on the morning on the day before and I'm not coming back. And when they ask me where you are I'll tell them: my father's too busy to come, he's running his secret coal mine with worker's he stolen from the Army!' |
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