East of Eden

by John Steinbeck

Lee said, “Stop it! Stop it, I tell you!” “Stop what? What do you want me to stop?” Lee said uneasily, “I told you once when you asked me that it was all in yourself. I told you you could control it—if you wanted.” “Control what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lee said, “Can’t you hear me? Can’t I get through to you? Cal, don’t you know what I’m saying?” “I hear you, Lee. What are you saying?” “He couldn’t help it, Cal. That’s his nature. It was the only way he knew. He didn’t have any choice. But you have. Don’t you hear me? You have a choice.” The spirals had become so small that the pencil lines ran together and the result was a shiny black dot. Cal said quietly, “Aren’t you making a fuss about nothing? You must be slipping. You’d think from your tone that I’d killed somebody. Come off it, Lee. Come off it.”