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face. The children began to laugh again and leap up and down.
    “Oh no,” Mrs. Arnold said. “That wasn’t funny.”
    “Hey Ben,” Mr. Arnold called. “Be careful when you come up. You don’t want to get the bends.”
    Benjamin placed his foot down onto the top step at the shallow end of the pool, then walked slowly down the steps to the pool’s floor.
    “Wait a minute,” his father said. He hurried to the edge of the pool with the spear. Benjamin stared at him a moment through the glass, then grabbed the spear away from him, turned around and began walking slowly down the slope of the pool toward the deep end. The water rose up around his black suit to the level of his chest. Then to his neck. Just as the water level was at his chin the flippers began scraping against the bottom of the pool. He let all his breath out and tried to force himself under but the air tank kept him afloat. He began thrashing with his arms but his head would not go under. The Arnoldchildren began to laugh. Finally he turned around and began moving slowly back up toward the shallow end. The neighbors in back began booing through the fence. By the time he reached the steps everyone in the yard was booing except for his father, who was standing at the head of the pool frowning at him.
    Benjamin pulled the mask partially away from his face. “The show’s over,” he said quietly.
    “What’s wrong.”
    “He needs a weight!” Mr. Arnold called. “That’ll get him under. If you had a big rock it would do it.”
    “Right,” Mr. Braddock said. He straightened up. “Folks?” he said.
    “There will be a brief intermission. Hang on to your seats.” He hurried past the pool and through a gate into the rear part of the yard, where the incinerator was.
    Benjamin stood quietly at the shallow end of the pool resting the end of his spear on the pool’s floor and staring through his mask at Peter Arnold. It was perfectly quiet. When Mr. Braddock returned he was carrying a large piece of concrete used to keep the lid of the incinerator closed. Benjamin took it from him and walked slowly back toward the deep end. Some of the guests began laughing and applauding as his head went under and then it was perfectly quiet The Graduate
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    beneath the water as he walked gradually down to the very bottom of the pool. He stood a moment looking at a wall of the pool, then sat down. Finally he eased himself down onto his side and balanced the heavy piece of concrete on his hip. Then he turned his head to look up at the shiny silver surface of the pool above. “Dad?” he said quietly into his mask.
    In the morning Benjamin got up earlier than usual. He dressed himself in a pair of khaki pants and an old jacket he had bought in the East at an army surplus store, and went downstairs. Mrs. Braddock was in the kitchen. “You’re up early,” she said.
    Benjamin walked past her and sat down at the table in front of his grapefruit. “I’m leaving home,” he said.
    “What?”
    “I said I’m leaving home,” he said, picking up his spoon. “I’m clearing out after breakfast.”
    Mrs. Braddock reached up to wipe her hands on a towel beside the sink. “You’re going away?” she said.
    “That’s right.”
    She frowned and walked across the room to sit down beside him at the table. “You’re taking a trip?” she said.
    “That is right,” Benjamin said. He dug into the grapefruit.
    “Well where are you going,” she said.
    “I don’t know.”
    “You don’t know where you’re going?”
    “No.”
    She sat a moment looking at him. “I don’t understand what you mean,”
    she said.
    “If you want the cliché,” Benjamin said, looking up from his grapefruit,
    “I’m going on the road.”
    “What?”
    “On the road. I believe that’s the conventional terminology.”
    “Well Ben,” his mother said.
    “What.”

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    “I still don’t understand this. You aren’t just planning to throw your things in the car and leave, I