The Graduate
Page 2
“It’s right at the end of the hall,” Benjamin said.
Mrs. Robinson was wearing a shiny green dress cut very low across her chest, and over one of her breasts was a large gold pin.
“Don’t I get to kiss the graduate?” she said.
“What?”
She smiled at him.
“Mrs. Robinson,” Benjamin said, shaking his head. “I’m kind of distraught at the moment. Now I’m sorry to be rude but I have some things on my mind.”
She walked across the room to where he was standing and kissed one of his cheeks.
“It’s good to see you,” Benjamin said. “The bathroom’s at the end of the hall.”
Mrs. Robinson stood looking at him a moment longer, then turned around and walked to his bed. She seated herself on the edge of it and sipped at her drink. “How are you,” she said.
“Look,” Benjamin said. “I’m sorry not to be more congenial but I’m trying to think.”
Mrs. Robinson had set her glass down on the rug. She reached into her purse for a package of cigarettes and held it out to Benjamin.
“No.”
She took one for herself.
“Is there an ash tray in here?”
“No.”
“Oh,” she said, “I forgot. The track star doesn’t smoke.” She blew out her match and set it down on the bedspread.
Benjamin walked to his desk for a wastebasket and carried it to the bed. He picked up the match and dropped it in.
“Thank you.”
He walked back to the window.
“What are you upset about,” she said.
“Some personal things.”
“Don’t you want to talk about them?”
“Well they wouldn’t be of much interest to you, Mrs. Robinson.”
She nodded and sat quietly on the bed smoking her cigarette and dropping ashes into the wastebasket beside her.
“Girl trouble?” she said.
“What?”
“Do you have girl trouble?”
“Look,” Benjamin said. “Now I’m sorry to be this way but I can’t help it. I’m just sort of disturbed about things.”
“In general,” she said.
“That’s right,” Benjamin said. “So please.” He shook his head and looked back out through the glass of the window.
Mrs. Robinson picked up her drink to take a swallow from it, then set it down and sat quietly until she was finished with her cigarette.
“Shall I put this out in the wastebasket?”
Benjamin nodded.
Mrs. Robinson ground it out on the inside of the wastebasket, then sat back up and folded her hands in her lap. It was quiet for several moments.
“The bathroom’s at the end of the hall,” Benjamin said.
“I know.”
She didn’t move from the bed but sat watching him until finally Benjamin turned around and walked to the door. “Excuse me,” he said. “I think I’ll go on a walk.”
“Benjamin?”
“What.”
“Come here a minute.”
“Look I’m sorry to be rude, Mrs. Robinson. But I’m …”
She held out her hands. “Just for a minute,” she said.
Benjamin shook his head and walked back to the bed. She took both his hands in hers and looked up into his face for several moments.
“What do you want,” he said.
“Will you take me home?”
“What?”
“My husband took the car. Will you drive me home?”
Benjamin reached into one of his pockets for the keys. “Here,” he said. “You take the car.”
“What?”
“Borrow the car. I’ll come and get it tomorrow.”
“Don’t you want to take me home?” she said, raising her eyebrows.
“I want to be alone, Mrs. Robinson. Now do you know how to work a foreign shift?”
She shook her head.
“You don’t?”
“No.”
Benjamin waited a few moments, then returned the keys to his pocket. “Let’s go,” he said.
Mr. Braddock was standing in the front doorway saying goodbye to the Terhunes. “Mrs. Robinson needs a ride home,” Benjamin said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Wonderful party,” Mrs. Robinson said. She took her coat from a closet beside the front door, put it on and followed Benjamin back through the house and out to the garage. He got into the car and started the engine and she got in beside him.
“What kind of car is this,” she said.
“I don’t know.”
He backed out the driveway and they drove without speaking the several miles between the Braddocks’ home and the Robinsons’. Benjamin stopped by the curb in front of her house. Mrs. Robinson reached up to push some hair away from her forehead and turned in her seat to smile at him.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Right.”
She didn’t move from her seat. Finally Benjamin turned off the engine, got out and walked around to open the door for her.
“Thank you,” she said, getting out.
“You’re welcome.”
“Will you come in, please?”
“What?”
“I want you to come in till I get the lights on.”
“What for.”
“Because I don’t feel safe until I get the lights on.”
Benjamin frowned at her, then followed her up a flagstone walk to the front porch. She found a key in her purse. When the door was opened she reached up to the wall just inside and turned on a hall light.
“Would you mind walking ahead of me to the sun porch?” she said.
“Can’t you see now?”
“I feel funny about coming into a dark house,” she said.
“But it’s light in there now.”
“Please?”
Benjamin waited a moment but then walked ahead of her down the hall and toward the rear of the house.
“To your left,” she said.
Benjamin walked to his left and down three steps leading to the sun porch. Mrs. Robinson came in behind him and turned on a lamp beside a long couch against one of the walls.
“Thank you,” she said.
“You’re welcome.”
“What do you drink,” she said, “bourbon?”
Benjamin shook his head. “Look,” he said. “I drove you home. I was glad to do it. But for God’s sake I have some things on my mind. Can you understand that?”
She nodded.
“All right then.”
“What do you drink,” she said.
“What?”
“Benjamin, I’m sorry to be this way,” she said. “But I don’t want to be alone in this house.”
“Why not.”
“Please wait till my husband gets home.”
“Lock the doors,” Benjamin said. “I’ll wait till you have all the doors locked.”
“I want you to sit down till Mr. Robinson comes back!”
“But I want to be alone!” Benjamin said.
“Well I know you do,” she said. “But I don’t.”
“Are you afraid to be alone in your own house?”
“Yes.”
“Can’t you just lock the doors?”
Mrs. Robinson nodded at a chair behind him.
“When’s he coming back,” Benjamin said.
“I don’t know.”
Benjamin sat down in the chair. “I’ll sit here till he gets back,” he said. “Then I’ll go. Good night.”
“Don’t you want some company?”
“No.”
“A drink?”
“No.”
Mrs. Robinson turned and walked up the three stairs leading from the porch. Benjamin folded his hands in his lap and looked at his reflection in one of the large panels of glass enclosing the room. Several moments later music began playing in another part of the house. He turned and frowned at the doorway. Then Mrs. Robinson walked back into the room carrying two dr
inks.
“Look. I said I didn’t want any.”
She handed it to him, then went to the side of the room and pulled a cord. Two large curtains slid closed across the windows. Benjamin shook his head and looked at the drink. Mrs. Robinson seated herself on a couch beside his chair. Then it was quiet.
“Are you always this much afraid of being alone?”
She nodded.
“You are.”
“Yes.”
“Well why can’t you just lock the doors and go to bed.”
“I’m very neurotic,” she said.
Benjamin frowned at her a few moments, then tasted his drink and set it down on the floor.
“May I ask you a question?” Mrs. Robinson said. He nodded.
“What do you think of me.”
“What?”
“What do you think of me.” He shook his head.
“You’ve known me nearly all your life,” she said. “Haven’t you formed any—”
“Look. This is kind of a strange conversation. Now I told my father I’d be right back.”
“Don’t you have any opinions at all?”
“No,” he said. He glanced at his watch. “Look, I’m sure Mr. Robinson will be here any minute. So please lock your doors and let me go.”
“Benjamin?”
“What.”
“Did you know I was an alcoholic?”
Benjamin shook his head. “Mrs. Robinson,” he said, “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Did you know that?”
“No.”
“You never suspected?”
“Mrs. Robinson, this is none of my business,” Benjamin said, rising from the chair. “Now excuse me because I’ve got to go.”
“You never suspected I was an alcoholic.”
“Goodbye, Mrs. Robinson.”
“Sit down,” she said. “I’m leaving now.”
She stood and walked to where he was standing to put one of her hands on his shoulder. “Sit down,” she said. “I’m leaving, Mrs. Robinson.”
“Why.”
“Because I want to be alone.”
“My husband will probably be back quite late,” she said. Benjamin frowned at her.
“Mr. Robinson probably won’t be here for several hours.” Benjamin took a step backward. “Oh my God,” he said. “What?”
“Oh no, Mrs. Robinson. Oh no.”
“What’s wrong.”
Benjamin looked at her a few moments longer, then turned around and walked to one of the curtains. “Mrs. Robinson,” he said, “you didn’t—I mean you didn’t expect …”
“What?”
“I mean you—you didn’t really think I would do something like that.”
“Like what?”
“What do you think!” he said. “Well I don’t know.”
“Come on, Mrs. Robinson,”
“What?”
“For God’s sake, Mrs. Robinson. Here we are. You’ve got me in your house. You put on music. You give me a drink. We’ve both been drinking already. Now you start opening up your personal life to me and tell me your husband won’t be home for hours.”
“So?”
“Mrs. Robinson,” he said, turning around, “you are trying to seduce me.”
She frowned at him.
“Aren’t you.”
She seated herself again on the couch.
“Aren’t you?”
“Why no,” she said, smiling. “I hadn’t thought of it. I feel rather flattered that you …”
Suddenly Benjamin put his hands up over his face. “Mrs. Robinson?” he said. “Will you forgive me?”
“What?”
“Will you forgive me for what I just said?”
“It’s all right.”
“It’s not all right! That’s the worst thing I’ve ever said! To anyone!”
“Sit down.”
“Please forgive me. Because I like you. I don’t think of you that way. But I’m mixed up!”
“All right,” she said. “Now finish your drink.”
Benjamin sat back down in his chair and lifted his drink up from the floor. “Mrs. Robinson, it makes me sick that I said that to you.”
“I forgive you,” she said.
“Can you? Can you ever forget that I said that?”
“We’ll forget it right now,” she said. “Finish your drink.”
“What is wrong with me,” Benjamin said. He took several large swallows from his drink and set it back on the floor.
“Benjamin?”
“What, Mrs. Robinson.”
She cleared her throat. “Have you ever seen Elaine’s portrait?”
“Her portrait?”
“Yes.”
Benjamin shook his head. “No.”
“We had it done last Christmas. Would you like to see it?”
Benjamin nodded. “Very much.”
“It’s upstairs,” she said, standing.
Benjamin followed her back to the front of the house and then up the thickly carpeted stairs to the second story. Mrs. Robinson walked ahead of him along a hall and turned into a room. A moment later dim yellow light spread out the doorway and into the hall. Benjamin walked into the room.
The portrait was hanging by itself on one of the walls and the light was coming from a small tubular lamp fixed at the top of the heavy gold frame. Benjamin looked at it, then nodded. “She’s a very good-looking girl,” he said.
Mrs. Robinson seated herself on the edge of a single bed in a corner of the room.
Benjamin folded his arms across his chest and stepped up closer to the portrait to study some of the detail of the face. “I didn’t remember her as having brown eyes,” he said. He stepped back again and tilted his head slightly to the side. “She’s really—she’s really a beautiful girl.”
“Benjamin?”
“Yes?”
She didn’t answer. Benjamin turned to smile at her.
“Come here,” she said quietly.
“What?”
“Will you come over here a minute?”
“Over there?”
She nodded.
“Sure,” Benjamin said. He walked over to the bed. Mrs. Robinson reached up to put one of her hands on his sleeve. Then she stood slowly until she was facing him.
“Benjamin?” she said.
“Yes?”
She turned around. “Will you unzip my dress?”
Benjamin unfolded his arms suddenly and took a step backward.
“I think I’ll go to bed,” she said.
“Oh,” Benjamin said. “Well. Good night.” He walked to the door.
“Won’t you unzip the dress?”
“I’d rather not, Mrs. Robinson.”
She turned around again and frowned at him. “Do you still think I’m trying to …”
“No I don’t. But I just feel a little funny.”
“You still think I’m trying to seduce you.”
“I don’t,” Benjamin said. “But I think I’d better get downstairs now.”
“Benjamin,” she said, smiling, “you’ve known me all your life.”
“I know that. I know that. But I’m—”
“Come on,” she said, turning her back to him. “It’s hard for me to reach.”
Benjamin waited a moment, then walked back to her. He reached for the zipper and pulled it down along her back. The dress split open.
“Thank you.”
“Right,” Benjamin said. He walked back to the doorway.
“What are you so scared of,” she said, smiling at him again.
“I’m not scared, Mrs. Robinson.”
“Then why do you keep running away.”
“Because you’re going to bed,” he said. “I don’t think I should be up here.”
“Haven’t you ever seen anybody in a slip before?” she said, letting the dress fall down around her and onto the floor.
“Yes I have,” Benjamin said, glancing away from her and at the portrait of Elaine. “Bu
t I just—”
“You still think I’m trying to seduce you, don’t you.”
“No I do not!” He threw his hands down to his sides. “Now I told you I feel terrible about saying that. But I don’t feel right up here.”
“Why not,” she said.
“Why do you think, Mrs. Robinson.”
“Well I don’t know,” she said. “We’re pretty good friends I think. I don’t see why you should be embarrassed to see me in a slip.”
“Look,” Benjamin said, pointing in back of him out the door. “What if—what if Mr. Robinson walked in right now.”
“What if he did,” she said.
“Well it would look pretty funny, wouldn’t it.”
“Don’t you think he trusts us together?”
“Of course he does. But he might get the wrong idea. Anyone might.”
“I don’t see why,” she said. “I’m twice as old as you are. How could anyone think—”
“But they would! Don’t you see?”
“Benjamin,” she said, “I’m not trying to seduce you. I wish you’d—”
“I know that. But please, Mrs. Robinson. This is difficult for me.”
“Why is it,” she said.
“Because I am confused about things. I can’t tell what I’m imagining. I can’t tell what’s real. I can’t—”
“Would you like me to seduce you?”
“What?”
“Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
“I’m going home now. I apologize for what I said. I hope you can forget it. But I’m going home right now.” He turned around and walked to the stairs and started down.
“Benjamin?” she called after him.
“What.”
“Will you bring up my purse before you go?”
Benjamin shook his head.
“Please?” she said.
“I have to go now. I’m sorry.”
Mrs. Robinson walked out to the railing holding her green dress across the front of her slip and looked down at Benjamin standing at the foot of the stairs. “I really don’t want to put this on again,” she said. “Won’t you bring it up?”
“Where is it.”
“On the sun porch.”
Benjamin hurried through the hall and found the purse beside the couch on the sun porch. He returned with it to the foot of the stairs. “Mrs. Robinson?”
“I’m in the bathroom,” she called from upstairs.
“Well here’s the purse.”
“Could you bring it up?”
“Well I’ll hand it to you. Come to the railing and I’ll hand it up.”