Hey, so if you're listening to Sleepy, I know that you love podcasts that help you go to bed and get a great night's rest. Well, if you're looking for even more snoozy content, I highly encourage you to check out the podcast, Nothing Much Happens, by a sleep co-conspirator of mine named Catherine Nikolai. She shares these original, mindfully crafted, conflict-free literature designed to lull you into a restful slumber. for over six years katherine has been helping listeners find peace and rest through her soothing stories the show has over 150 million downloads and it basically is a grown-up version of mr roger's neighborhood filled with interconnected stories that soothe and calm you it is a fantastic show and she puts so much work into making stories that are specifically crafted to put you to bed so definitely go check out her show nothing much happens you can find nothing much happens anywhere where you get your podcasts. Sweet dreams. Hey, my name's Otis Gray, and you're listening to Sleepy. A podcast where I read old books to help you get to sleep. And this is a midweek short story for you. Tonight, we get a story by Catherine Ann Porter, who I've only been reading recently on the show, and I really love her writing. this is one of the more modern tales I think that we've read on the show and it's yeah it's quite topical for me right now since it's about a couple making a home and that's kind of exactly what I'm doing right now as I just moved into a new place and I'm doing that and uh so it's funny to read this it's definitely a timeless story i'll say that uh and before we get to this short story reading um i would love to just thank all of our patrons on patreon.com if you are a patron of the show thank you so so much it really really means a lot So thank you. And if you have no idea what I'm talking about, patrons of the show are supporters on patreon.com, which is a wonderful site that allows you to directly support people who make the stuff that you like. And so if you like Sleepy and you want to be a part of making this show in exchange for cool perks, like at $2 you get access to the ad-free version of Sleepy it's $2 a month $5 you get access to our poetry feed but even a dollar goes a really long way that's what a lot of people give and it means so much to me and no matter how much you donate even if it's a dollar I will very happily read your name in the opening credits of our next Sunday show after you do. So, if you would like to be a part of making this show, you can do that by going to patreon.com slash sleepy radio. Thank you. And as always, the music you're hearing is by my good friend James Lepkowski and the cover art for Sleepy is by Gracie Kanan. Well, tonight, I've got a short story for you. Again, by Catherine Ann Porter, and this story is called Rope. And I guess, well, hopefully you're falling asleep to this story, so I can give you a little bit of a synopsis before it starts. It's about a couple. they are making a home in the country. It sounds really idyllic. And it seems like they love each other a lot and are getting on each other's nerves. And there's some rope that gets bought with the couple's money. And there a fight ensues, an argument. and just like most arguments, I think, between couples, whether it's, usually it's, you know, about the dishes and the sink or something, and it gets way out of hand, and before you know it, you're in a long, long, drawn-out fight, bringing up old stuff, you know. it's never just about the dishes this is that story and it's not about the rope but I really liked reading this story it's got a unique style I think all of Catherine Ann Porter's short stories do and yeah she's a great new author to be reading on this show so without further ado this bedtime short story for you tonight. Rope by Catherine Ann Porter. And now's the time for you to fluff up your pillow just how you like it. Feel yourself melt into your bed. Get real comfortable. Close your eyes. And let me read to you. Rope On the third day, after they moved to the country, he came walking back from the village, carrying a basket of groceries and a 24-yard coil of rope. She came out to meet him, wiping her hands on her green smock Her hair was tumbled, her nose was scarlet and sunburned He told her that already she looked like a born country woman His grey flannel shirt stuck to him His heavy shoes were dusty She assured him he looked like a rural character in a play had he brought the coffee she had been waiting all day long for coffee they had forgot it when they ordered it at the store the first day gosh no he hadn't lord now he'd have to go back yes he would if it killed him he thought though he had everything else she reminded him it was only because he didn drink coffee himself If he did he would remember it quick enough Suppose they ran out of cigarettes. Then she saw the room. What was that for? Well, he thought it might do to hang clothes on or something. naturally she asked him if he thought they were going to run a laundry they already had a 50 foot line hanging right before his eyes why hadn't he noticed it really it was a blot on the landscape to her he thought there were a lot of things a rope might come in handy for she wanted to know what for instance he thought a few seconds but nothing occurred they could wait and see couldn't they you need all sorts of strange odds and ends around a place in the country she said yes that was so but she thought just at that time when every penny counted it seemed funny to buy more rope that was all she hadn't meant anything else she hadn't just seen not at first why he felt it was necessary well thunder he had bought it because he wanted to and that was all there was to it she thought that was reason enough and couldn't understand why he hadn't said so at first undoubtedly it would be useful 24 yards of rope There were hundreds of things She couldn't think of any at the moment But it would come in Of course, as he had said Things always did in the country But she was a little disappointed About the coffee Oh, look, look, look at the eggs Oh my, they're all running what did he put on top of them hadn't he known eggs mustn't be squeezed squeezed who had squeezed them he wanted to know what a silly thing to say he had simply brought them along in the basket with the other things if they got broke it was the grocer's fault he should know better than to put heavy things on top of eggs she believed it was the rope that was the heaviest thing in the pack she saw him plainly when he came in from the road the rope was a big package on top of everything he desired the whole wide world to witness that this was not a fact he had carried the rope in one hand and the basket in the other and what was the use of her having eyes if that was the best they could do for her. Well, anyhow, she could see one thing plain. No eggs for breakfast. They'd have to scramble them now for supper. It was too damn bad. She had planned to have steak for supper. No ice. Meat wouldn't keep. He wanted to know why she couldn't finish breaking the eggs in a bowl and set them in a cool place. Cool place. If he could find one for her, she'd be glad to set them there. Well then, it seemed to him they might very well cook the meat at the same time they cooked the eggs and then warm up the meat for tomorrow. The idea simply choked her, warmed over meat, when they might as well have had it fresh. Second best, and scraps, and makeshifts, even to the meat. He rubbed her shoulder a little. It doesn't really matter so much, does it, darling? sometimes when they were playful he would rub her shoulder and she would arch and purr this time she hissed and almost clawed he was getting ready to say that they could surely manage somehow when she turned on him and said if he told her they could manage somehow she would certainly slap his face he swallowed the words red hot his face burned he picked up the rope and started to put it on the top shelf she would not have it on the top shelf jars and tins belonged there positively she would not have the top shelf cluttered up with a lot of rope she had borne all the clutter she meant to bear in the flat in town. There was space here, at least, and she meant to keep things in order. Well, in that case, he wanted to know what the hammer and nails were doing up there and why had she put them there when she knew very well that he needed that hammer and those nails upstairs to fix the window sashes. she simply slowed down everything and made double work on the place with her insane habit of changing things around and hiding them she was sure she begged his pardon and if she had had any reason to believe he was going to fix the sashes this summer she would have left the hammer and nails right where he put them in the middle of the bedroom floor where they could step on them in the dark. And now, if he didn't clear the whole mess out, she would throw them down the well. Oh, all right, all right. Could he put them in the closet? Naturally not. there were brooms and mops and dustpans in the closet and why couldn't he find a place for his rope outside her kitchen had he stopped to consider there were seven godforsaken rooms in the house and only one kitchen he wanted to know what of it and did she realize she was making a complete fool of herself and what did she take him for a three-year-old idiot. The whole trouble with her was she needed something weaker than she was to heckle and tyrannize over. He wished to God now that a couple of children she could take it out on Maybe he get some rest Her face changed as she reminded him he had forgot the coffee and had brought a worthless piece of rope. And when she thought of all the things they actually needed to make the place even decent to live in, well, she could cry. That was all. she looked so forlorn so lost and despairing he couldn't believe it was only a piece of rope that was causing all the racket what was the matter for God's sake oh would he please hush and go away and stay away if he could for five minutes By all means Yes, he would He'd stay away indefinitely If she wished Lord, yes There was nothing he'd like better than to clear out And never come back She couldn't for the life of her See what was holding him then It was a swell time Here she was Stuck Miles from a railroad with a half-empty house on her hands and not a penny in her pocket and everything on earth to do. It seemed the God-sent moment for him to get out from under her. She was surprised he hadn't stayed in town as it was until she had come out and done the work and got things straightened out. It was his usual trick. it appeared to him that this was going a little too far just a touch out of bounds if she didn't mind his saying so why the hell had he stayed in town the summer before to do a half dozen extra jobs to get the money he had sent her that was it she knew perfectly well they couldn't have done it otherwise she had agreed with him at the time and that was the only time so help him he had ever left her to do anything by herself oh he could tell that to his great grandmother she had her notion of what had kept him in town considerably more than a notion if he wanted to know so she was going to bring all that up again was she? Well, she could just think what she pleased. He was tired of explaining. It may have looked funny but he had simply got hooked in and what could he do? It was impossible to believe that she was going to take it seriously. Yes, yes. She knew how it was with a man. if he was left by himself a minute, some woman was certain to kidnap him. And naturally, he couldn't hurt her feelings by refusing. Well, what was she raving about? Did she forget that she had told him those two weeks alone in the country were the happiest she had known for four years? And how long had they been married when she said that. Alright, shut up. If she thought that, then stuck in his craw. She hadn't meant she was happy because she was away from him. She meant she was happy getting the devilish house nice and ready for him. That was what she had meant. And now, look, bringing up something she had said a year ago simply to justify himself for forgetting her coffee and breaking eggs and buying a wretched piece of rope they couldn't afford. She really thought it was time to drop the subject and now she wanted only two things in the world. She wanted him to get that rope from underfoot and go back to the village and get her coffee and if he could remember it he might bring a metal mitt for the skillet and two more curtain rods and if there were any rubber gloves in the village her hands were simply raw and a bottle of milk of magnesia from the drugstore he looked down at the dark blue afternoon sweltering on the slopes and mopped his forehead and sighed heavily and said, if only she could wait a minute for anything. He was going back. He had said so, hadn't he? The very instant they found he had overlooked it. Oh yes, well, run along. She was going to wash windows. the country was so beautiful she doubted to have a moment to enjoy it he meant to go but he could not until he had said that if she wasn't such a hopeless melancholic she might see that this was only for a few days couldn't she remember anything pleasant about the other summers hadn't they ever had any fun she hadn't time to talk about it but now would he please not leave that rope lying around for her to trip on it he picked it up somehow it had toppled off the table and walked out with it on his arm was he going this minute he certainly was she thought so sometimes it seemed to her they had second sight about the precisely perfect moment to leave her ditched she had meant to put the mattresses out to the sun if they put them out this minute they would get at least three hours he must have heard her say that morning she had to put them out so of course he would walk off and leave her to it. She supposed he thought the exercise would do her good. Well, he was merely going to get her coffee. A four mile walk for two pounds of coffee was ridiculous but he was perfectly willing to do it. The habit was making a wreck of her but if she wanted to wreck herself there was nothing he could do about it. If he thought it was coffee that was making a wreck of her she congratulated him. He must have a damned easy conscience Conscience or no conscience he didn see why the mattresses couldn very well wait until tomorrow And anyhow, for God's sake, were they living in the house, or were they going to let the house ride them to death? She paled at this. Her face grew living about the mouth. she looked quite dangerous and reminded him that housekeeping was no more her work than it was his she had other work to do as well and when did he think she was going to find time to do it at this rate was she going to start on that again she knew as well he did that his work brought in the regular money hers was only occasional if they depended on what she made and she might as well get straight on this question once and for all. That was positively not the point. The question was when both of them were working on their own time was there going to be a division of the housework or wasn't there? She merely wanted to know. She had to make her plans. why he thought that all was arranged it was understood that he was to help hadn't he always in summers hadn't he though oh just hadn't he and when and where and doing what lord what an uproarious joke it was such a very uproarious joke that her face turned slightly purple and she screamed with laughter. She laughed so hard she had to sit down and finally a rush of tears spurted from her eyes and poured down into the lifted corners of her mouth. He dashed towards her and dragged her up to her feet and tried to pour water on her head. The dipper hung by a string on a nail and he broke it loose. he tried to pump water with one hand while she struggled with the other so he gave it up she wrenched away crying out for him to take his rope and go to hell she had simply given him up and ran he heard her high heeled bedroom slippers clattering and stumbling on the stairs he went out around the house and into the lane and he suddenly realized he had a blister on his heel and it sure felt as if it were on fire. Things broke so suddenly he didn't know where you were. She could work herself into a fury about simply nothing. She was terrible, damn it. Not an ounce of reason. You might as well talk to a sieve as that woman when she got going. Damn defeat spent his life humoring her. Well, what to do now? He would take back the rope and exchange it for something else. Things accumulated. Things were mountainous. You couldn't move them or sort them or get rid of them. They just lay and rotted around. he'd take it back hell why should he he wanted it what was it anyhow a piece of rope imagine anybody caring more about a piece of rope than about a man's feelings what earthly right had she to say a word about it he remembered all the useless meaningless things she bought for herself why because I wanted it, that's why. He stopped and selected a large stone by the road. He would put the rope behind it. He would put it in the toolbox when he got back. He'd heard enough about it to last him a lifetime. When he came back, she was leaning against the post box beside the road, waiting. It was pretty late. The smell of broiled steak floated nose-high in the cooling air. Her face was young and smooth and fresh-looking. Her unmanageable, funny black hair was all on end. She waved to him from a distance, and he speeded up. She called out that supper was ready and waiting. Was he starved? you bet he was starved here was the coffee he waved it at her she looked at his other hand what was that he had there well it was the rope again he stopped short he had meant to exchange it but forgot she wanted to know why he should exchange it if it was something he really wanted. Wasn't the air sweet now? And wasn't it fine to be here? She walked beside him with one hand hooked into his leather belt. She pulled and jostled him a little as he walked and leaned against him. He put his arm clear around her and patted her stomach. They exchanged wary smiles, coffee coffee for the Utsum Wutsums he felt as if he were bringing her a beautiful present he was a love she firmly believed and if she had had her coffee in the morning she wouldn't have behaved so funny there was a whippoorwill still coming back imagine clear out of season sitting in the crab apple tree calling all by himself. Maybe his girl stood him up. Maybe she did. She hoped to hear him once more. She loved Whippoorwills. He knew how she was, didn't he? Sure. He knew how she was. Thank you for listening to Sleepy. Good night. Thank you.
