Blessings (26 page)

“Poor fellow. I admit it was a case of better him than me. It took a bit of courage to sit all wired up in a diner. I’d be thinking the wire might fall down around my ankles, or that something else might go wrong.”

“It took more than a bit of courage,” Jennie replied, and thought again of Bruce Fisher, who might or might not have had anything to do with the business. More likely might. It was a shivery thought.

George Cromwell’s office was in a wing of a simple frame house, on a street of similar houses a few blocks from the center of town. The house, which needed paint, was obviously not the home of an affluent man. This impression was fortified by the interior. In the sitting room, into which George led them, the upholstery was shabby, the old oak pieces dark and dowdy. The house and its furnishings had passed intact from Martha’s grandmother on George’s wedding day, along with Martha, who was now resting upstairs.

George placed his little machine on the table and held up a tape with an expression both proud and a little sheepish.

“You won’t believe your ears. It’s all here.”

“What does he look like, this John Jones?” Jay asked.

George grinned. “He gave me his right name. Said you couldn’t be too careful on the phone. His name’s Harry Corrin. Fellow about forty-five, but then—it’s hard to tell. Enormous yellow, crooked teeth. Bad bite. Being a dentist, that’s what I always notice first, the teeth.”

Jennie saw a twitch of amusement on Jay’s lips. “I suppose he was very friendly, George?”

“Oh, friendly, yes. But here, let me start the tape. I’ll give you the second one, where he really gets down to business. The first time we just talked about the town and the kind of buildings the Barkers put up, and how I really ought to see some of them and then maybe I’d understand better that they didn’t come here to ruin the town. That sort of thing. It took up the whole tape. Sort of getting acquainted, you might say.”

“Did you give any opinions?” Jennie wanted to know.

“Oh, just enough to let him think I was interested. I wanted to lure him along.” The tape whirred. “Ah. Here it comes.”

Interspersed among the background sounds of passing voices, the screech of chairs on a bare floor, the clink of dishes, and the occasional ping of a cash register came the two voices: George’s elderly quaver; the other one young and with a coaxing quality.

“So, do you see things a little differently than you did before we talked yesterday, George? If you don’t mind my calling you George?”

“Not at all, Harry.”

“Well, do you get my meaning? That we’re not going to mess up your town?”

“Well, in a way I do, although I’m not certain. I’d have to do a lot more thinking.”

“Sure. Sure. You’re a very intelligent man. Shrewd too. You like to make dead certain before you give your opinion.”

A silence followed, during which one could imagine George nodding rather gravely and the other man observing him, during which dishes rattled again and somewhere outside an engine backfired.

Then Harry’s voice resumed, lower this time, more sympathetic. “You’ve got a lot to think about these days, anyway. I know. I mean, your wife’s being so sick. It must cost you a bundle.”

“Yep. Big bills.” One heard George’s sigh.

“I hear it’s terrible what hospitals and doctors charge these days. Can eat up a man’s life’s savings.”

“True,” George said. “Very true.”

“And more, I hear. Some people even have to go in debt.”

“I hope I won’t have to do that. But it may happen yet, who knows?”

“Is it that bad, George? That’s terrible. A man your age stands on his feet all his life filling teeth, and now he’s come to where he has to borrow to keep his head above water.” Silence again. “Yes,” said Harry mournfully, “I get a laugh when I hear somebody say ‘Money isn’t everything,’ when I know—and you must know it, too, right now—that it sure as hell is. What a difference it would make to your peace of mind if you had a nice little bundle put away!” The voice went low, so that Jay and Jennie had to strain to hear it. “Say, if you had fifty thousand in the bank, in cash in a safe-deposit box, you could sleep nights. Right, George?”

“Well, fifty would help. But as you say, the bills are something to see.”

“All right, seventy-five. If you had that, you’d sleep even better, wouldn’t you?”

“Hah! And where the dickens could I ever hope to find that kind of money?”

“Hey, George! There are ways, you know it. And when you have friends, nothing’s impossible. Listen, George, I like you. You’re smart and you’re a man of your word, I can tell. And I’m a man of my word too. Good faith, that’s what it’s all about in this life. Right, George?”

“Sure. Always.”

“Okay. So one hand washes the other, as they say. I snap my fingers, and in my hands I can have seventy-five thousand green whenever I want it, just like that. Whenever.”

“Whenever what?”

“Whenever Barker gets the go-ahead to build. Simple as that.”

“You don’t mean—”

“I mean.”

Silence followed. One imagined George pretending to be absorbing the fact. Presently he said, “Oh. And the seventy-five—would it be for me only?”

“The way we figure it, you’re the one, aren’t you? Your vote does the trick.”

Once more there was a silence, into which Harry broke rather anxiously. “It’s even possible—don’t hold me to it—but I have an idea that could even be raised to a hundred.”

“A hundred! I’d be in the money!”

“Yep. All green. Nice and tidy in the safe-deposit box. How about it, George? You like that all right?”

“Oh, boy, I guess I do.”

“You’d better believe you do. Listen. I’m going back to the city tonight to get the go-ahead on the numbers. I’ll be back here Sunday.”

“Same time, same place?”

“Right. And listen, I’m pretty sure it’ll be okay for you to count on twenty-five now and the rest when it passes. If it doesn’t pass, you return the twenty-five.” There was the sound of chairs being scraped back, and then Harry’s voice, friendly and upbeat. “But it’ll pass. Okay, George? It’s up to you.”

“Sure. Okay. Sounds good to me.”

“See you.”

George switched the tape off, exclaiming as if he had just thought of it, “Didn’t he take a chance, though, being seen with me?”

“Not really,” Jennie said. “Neither a chance for him nor for you. Nobody around here knows him.”

“Ah, yes, of course. I see.”

“You’ll need to set aside some time so we can give the tape to the district attorney,” Jennie said.

“Do I have to go along?”

“Of course you do. You’re the star witness.”

“Ah, yes, I see. I suppose he’ll be bringing the twenty-five thousand tomorrow. What do I do with it?”

“Nothing except hold on to it.”

George sighed, and Jennie said gently, “Buck up, George. Everything’s working out just right, and you’ve nothing to fear. We’re starting back to the city at about four tomorrow, so will you give us a call right after your meeting?”

Jennie kissed the old man’s cheek. “George, you’ve been perfect. Just perfect.”

Sunday was a mild day. In the direct sunshine icicles began to shed slow drops, and the tip of a breeze blew powder from the surface of the snow. In the morning the children went sledding, after which Jay and Jennie took them to the drugstore in the village to buy candy bars for the long drive home.

While Jay went into the store, she waited in the car,

stifling as always the same tormenting thoughts. Suddenly she had one of those odd, almost uncanny sensations that come with an awareness of being watched. Turning then, she looked directly into an unforgettable face. Bruce Fisher was leaning against a lamppost a few doors down from where the car had stopped. For an instant only, they made eye contact, but even after Jennie looked away, the feeling persisted that he was still staring at her. When Jay came out of the store, she told him.

“Don’t look now, but Fisher’s standing over there.”

“I know. I saw him when I went in.”

“He makes me shiver.”

“Understandably. Still, we mustn’t let ourselves be paranoid about him. After all, he does have a right to stand on the street in his own town.”

Yet afterward they were to wonder… .

The rest of the morning followed a quiet Sunday pattern: the newspapers and a long game of Monopoly, which included everyone except Donny, who watched cartoons on the
VCR
. Then came midday dinner, followed by Donny’s nap and packing their suitcases.

It was almost four o’clock. Jay was just saying “If George doesn’t call, we’ll reach him tomorrow” when the telephone rang.

“You take it, Jennie, it’s your case.”

George’s booming voice came over the wire with such intensity that Jay and his parents looked up in surprise.

“George! You’re all out of breath!”

“Oh, I’ve had a terrible time! Terrible! It’s no wonder I’m out of breath. You won’t believe what happened. Harry came in, I was sitting in the booth waiting, having a cup of coffee, and the minute he walked in the door I saw he was mad, but mad as you can’t imagine. You never saw such a face, it was black. I swear the blood was black, it was so dark and—”

Jennie interrupted. “Please. Just tell me what happened.”

“Well, people have been watching my house! They must have been! He knew you and Jay were there yesterday. Who could have told him? Oh, you can’t believe … He called me every kind of filthy name. I don’t mind that, but he was in such a rage! He said I had double-crossed him and I was dead wrong if I thought I could get away with it; nobody ever did that to him and got away with it.” George was almost sobbing. “And then he reached across the table—there was nobody in the place except the counterman, and he’d gone back into the kitchen—and he grabbed me by my necktie and said he’d bash my face in. And then—I hate to tell you this—but I lost my head and I told him to go on and try to do it, just try, because I have everything on tape and he was in big, big trouble and he’d better know he was.”

“You didn’t! You couldn’t have!”

George said mournfully, contritely, “Yes, I did.”

Jennie turned from the phone. “They had an argument, and George told him about the tape.”

Arthur, in disgust, threw up his hands.

“I’m awfully sorry,” George was saying. “Awfully sorry. I know it was careless of me, I know—”

“Careless!” Jennie cried. “Is that what you call it?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I just lost my head when he grabbed me, just lost my head.”

She sighed. “What happened then?”

“He threatened me.”

“Tell me how. Specifically.”

“Well, not specifically. Just … just threatened, I don’t know. Said I’d pay for it unless I handed over the tape. The one from before and the one I had on me. And I told him I didn’t have one on, and that the other was in safe hands where he couldn’t get it. Of course, it’s home, hidden in my house.”

“Of course,” Jennie said.

Safe hands. It wouldn’t be hard for anyone to figure out who else besides George might have it.

“I hope you people won’t be too furious with me.”

She sighed again. “Being furious won’t help. Where are you now, home?”

“No, I’m at a pay phone on the highway. I just left the diner.”

“Well, go on home and rest. You’ve had a bad time.”

“Yes, I’ll be on my way. I left Martha alone.”

Jennie hung up. “Well, here we are.”

“Naturally I always knew,” Arthur said, “that George had, shall we say, limitations? But of all the simpletons!”

Jay considered the situation. “Wait a moment. This really may not be the very worst scenario. Now that they know they’ve been taped, the prudent thing would be for them to disappear from the scene, withdraw their offer, and hope against hope that the tapes won’t be submitted to the authorities. Or”—and here Jay looked very sober—”or else, if anyone should decide to get hold of the tape, it could be a bad scenario, an extremely bad scenario.”

All were silent while obvious, rather nasty, possibilities were considered. After a moment Jay looked at his watch.

“Well, it’s Sunday and there’s nothing we can do now, so I suggest we just start back home.”

Enid laid her hand on her son’s arm. “You will be careful? I’m thinking of some awful person storming into your office or into Jennie’s. Whatever would you do?”

“We’d manage.”

“You would, I guess, but what if they think Jennie’s got the tapes?”

“Jennie’s tough.” Jay grinned. “You don’t know her yet. She’ll keep her eyes open.”

“Well, I hope. Do take care of yourselves.”

By tacit agreement nothing more was said on the subject during the ride. The children opened bags of M&M’s and counted red cars on the road. On the way out of town they passed the lane that led from the highway to the Green Marsh. And Jennie, recognizing the turnoif, had a poignant recall of the morning, not six weeks past, when she had stood there with Jay and life had seemed so bright, so hopeful and easy. And only a few hours later the telephone had rung.

Her mind went back now to Peter and Jill. Right this minute, very likely, Jill was flying back to New York after seeing Peter.

“What’s wrong?” Jay asked.

“Nothing. Why?”

“I thought I saw out of the corner of my eye that you were frowning.”

She made light of the remark. “Hey! You’re supposed to keep your eyes on the road. Yes, I guess maybe I was frowning, thinking about George and the whole business. We’re getting more than we bargained for.”

“Talk about it tomorrow. Let’s have music for now. Want the tail end of the Philharmonic?”

“Fine.”

The Eroica swept into the car. And Jay’s hand, for a minute or two, covered Jennie’s, which lay on the seat. The pressure, the possessive gesture, the living warmth of that hand, the majestic music—all caught at her heart.

Oh, my God, please. Please … Jennie begged silently.

She closed her eyes, and he, thinking she wanted to sleep, withdrew his hand. Indeed, the music and the hum of the engine would soon put her to sleep if she allowed them to. She knew she was one of those rare people who, instead of being sleepless when they are beset, are overwhelmed by sleep. It’s only a form of escape, she thought, remembering her course in ele-232