The Kill-Off (13 page)

By doing that, you see, we’d never really know. There’d never be anything to make us uncomfortable about each other. After all, she was a pretty old woman. Her health was bad, and everyone in town hated her guts. And, well, all sorts of things could happen to her, without us having a thing to do with them.

And neither of us would need to know that we had unless…

The weeks raced by. They went by like days, and before we knew it the season was almost over. And we were still talking, and nothing had happened.

Then, that Monday night came.

The dance hall was closed that night. Ralph was working there—not any regular hours, but just until he got through. We weren’t seeing each other afterwards, because I had a sore throat.

I don’t know how I got it exactly. Maybe from sleeping in a draft. Anyway, it wasn’t really bad, and if I’d been anything but a singer I wouldn’t have bothered to call a doctor.

I was sitting out on the stoop when he came. He painted my throat, looking kind of nervous and haggard, and then he asked me why I hadn’t been in the first time he called.

“I spend thirty minutes finding the right cottage,” he said, “and then when I finally locate it—”

“I’m so sorry about that, doctor,” I said. “You see, I was taking a shower, and it was some time before I heard you calling and pounding at the cottage next door. I came right out as soon as I did, but—”

“W-what?” he said. “The cottage next…?”

“Uh-huh. It’s unoccupied; so many of them are…But I thought you saw me, doctor. I ran out on the stoop and called to you, just as you were driving away, and I thought you called and motioned to me. I supposed you meant you had no more time right then, and you’d have to come back later.”

He looked at me blankly for a moment. Then, his eyes flickered in a kind of funny way, and he snapped his fingers.

“Why, of course,” he said. “Now that I see you in the light, I can…You had a robe on, didn’t you, and a—uh—did you have a bathing cap?”

“That’s right,” I said. “A robe and a bathing cap, because I’d just come out of the shower. I suppose I looked quite a bit different than—”

“Not a bit,” he said firmly. “Not a particle. I’d have recognized you instantly, if it hadn’t been so fixed in my mind that you were in the other cottage. Let’s see, now—about what time was that?”

I told him I guessed it was a little after eight. Somewhere along in there. Just about the time it was getting dark.

“You’re right,” he said. “You’re absolutely right, Miss Lee. Let me compliment you on your memory.”

“Now, that’s real sweet of you, doctor,” I said. “But, after all, why shouldn’t I remember? I mean, a girl just about
couldn’t
forget anything connected with a distinguished looking gentleman like you.”

I smiled at him, looking up from under the lids of my eyes. He beamed and harrumphed his throat, and said I was a very fine young lady.

He repeated that several times while he was repacking his medicine kit. He said he wanted me to take very good care of myself, and any time I needed him, regardless of the hour, I was to let him know.

I thought he was awfully sweet and nice. Kind of distinguished and mature, like Ralph. He asked if he might use my phone, and I said, why certainly, and he called a number.

“Hank?” he said. “Jim…Just wanted to tell you that it’s—you know—all right…I remembered where—I mean, I can account positively for the time. There’s a young lady who saw me, recognized my car and my voice, and…Who? Well, that one. The one we were discussing. She—What? Why—yes, I suppose that’s true. I hadn’t thought about it that way, but…”

I’d gone over by the door to be polite; so that it wouldn’t look like I was snooping, you know. He turned around and looked at me, kind of frowning as he went on talking.

“Yes. Yes, I see. Naturally, unless I was sure that she—unless there was an observer I could hardly be observed. But…Yes, Hank. That’s the way I feel. On the one hand…Absolutely. Had to be. No reason to consider it anything else…Exactly, Hank! And as long as that’s the case…Fine, ha, ha, fine. See you, Hank…”

He hung up the receiver. He picked up his medicine kit, gave me a funny little nod, and started out the door. On the stoop he paused for a moment and turned around, facing me.

“Allow me to compliment you again,” he said. “You’re a very smart young woman, Miss Lee.”

“Now, that is
sweet,
” I said. “That’s a
real
compliment…coming from a smart man like you.”

I gave him another under-the-eyelids smile. He turned suddenly, and left.

I thought he seemed a little cranky. I wondered if he thought I hadn’t really seen him that first time—because actually, I hadn’t. I said I had because he’d started off being so cross, and I was afraid he might think I hadn’t been at home when he called. But all I’d really seen was his car driving away. Or a car that looked like his.

Oh, well. Probably I was just imagining things. After all, he remembered seeing me perfectly, so why should he think I hadn’t seen him?

I put on some make-up and went out on the beach. I sat down with my back to the ocean. After a while, I saw a light come on in Rags McGuire’s cottage. I walked down to it, and knocked on the door.

He was sitting on the side of the bed, drinking out of a bottle. He’s been drinking a lot lately, but on Mondays he drinks more than usual.

“Well!” he said. “If it isn’t little Miss Bosoms, the girl with the tinplated tonsils! How come they let you out, baby, or ain’t you been in yet?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about and I don’t care,” I said, “and all I’ve got to say to you is I’m quitting, you mean hateful, dirty old—old—”

“Bastard, son-of-a-bitch, whoremonger,” he said. “Now, you sit right down there, honey, and I’ll think up some more for you. I’ll do that, an’ you tell me where you were around eight o’clock tonight.”

“If it’s any of your business,” I said, “I was in my cottage at eight o’clock and for all the rest of the evening. I had a sore throat, and the doctor saw me about eight and again just a little while ago, if it’s any possible concern of yours.”

His eyes widened. He broke out laughing suddenly, slapping his knee. “Doc Ashton? Oh, brother! You two—you
and
Doc Ashton! Will this burn a certain little lawyer I know! Who dreamed it up, baby, you or Doc?”

“I haven’t the faintest notion of what you’re talking about,” I said. “But since you seem to be so curious as to my whereabouts at certain times, perhaps I might inquire about yours.”

His laugh went away. He put the bottle on the floor, sat staring into the neck of it as if there was something there besides the whiskey.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know where I was. But I was all alone, Danny. I was all alone.”

It seemed awful silent then. The only sound was the waves, lap-lapping, whispering against the sand.

I began to get sort of a funny feeling in my throat. I was just about to say I’d work out the rest of the season—these last two weeks—but he spoke first.

“So you’re quitting, huh? Well, that’s something. That’s at least one break you’ve given me.”

Then he got up and came over to me, and took my face between his hands. “You didn’t mean it, Danny, and I didn’t mean it. Besides, I don’t want you to leave, Danny. Besides, I love you, Danny.”

He stooped and kissed me on the forehead.

I said, “Rags…Oh, g-gosh, Rags. I—”

“I couldn’t keep you any longer,” he said. “I couldn’t pay you, understand? But I think you’re one of the finest girls I’ve ever known, and I think you have one of the very finest voices I’ve ever heard. I wished you’d go on with it; I did wish that. But now…now, I know you mustn’t. It would never do. Because the one thing is all you can have, Danny—the music is all you can have, Danny—and if it isn’t enough…”

He took his hands away from my face, let them slide down my arms. Then he scowled suddenly, and gave me a shake. “Posture!” he said. “Goddammit, how many times do I have to tell you? You’ve got two feet, haven’t you? You’re not an obstetrical case, are you? Well, stand on them then, by God.”

I said I was sorry. I stood like he’d told me to, like he’d taught me to.

“All right,” he said. “Let’s have it. Make it
Stardust.
Even you can’t bitch that one…Well, what are you waiting for?”

“I—I c-can’t!” I said. “Oh, R-Rags, I—”

He ran his hands through his hair. “Okay, go on! Get the hell—no, wait a minute. Sit down over there, right there, dammit. I’ll let you hear
Stardust
like it ought to be sung…almost.”

I sat down by his desk. He sat down in the other chair, and put in a long-distance call to his wife.

The call went through, and he held the receiver a little away from his ear.

“Hi, Janie,” he said. “How’s it going? How are the boys…?”

I couldn’t understand what she said, because it was just kind of sounds instead of words. A sort of quack-quacking like a duck would make.

“They’re asleep, eh? Well, that’s fine. Don’t bother to wake them up…”

The boys couldn’t be waked up. Never, ever.

“Listen, Janie. I’ve got a kid here I want you to sing for. I—
Janie!
I said I wanted you to sing, understand?…Well, get with it, then. Give me
Stardust,
and give it loud. This kid here is pretty tone-deaf…”

She couldn’t sing, of course. How can you sing when you don’t have a nose and only part of a tongue, and no teeth…and hardly any place to put teeth? But there was a click and a scratch; and her voice came over the wire.

It was pretty wonderful, her singing
Stardust.
A platter has to be pretty wonderful to sell three million copies. But Rags had started frowning. He squirmed in his chair, and the cigarette in the corner of his mouth began a kind of nervous up-and-down moving.

He held the receiver away from him. He looked at it, frowning, and then he lowered it slowly toward the hook. And the farther down it went, the farther it was away from him, the more his frown faded. And when it was completely down, when the connection was broken, he wasn’t frowning any more. He was smiling.

It was a kind of smile I’d never seen before. A dreamy, far-off smile. One of his hands moved slowly back and forth, up and down, and one of his feet tap-tapped silently against the floor.

“Do you hear it, Danny?” he said softly. “Do you hear the music?”

“Yes,” I said. “Yes, I hear the music, Rags.”

“The music,” he said. “The music never goes away, Danny. The music never goes away…”

I
knew from the moment I sat down at the table that morning that I was in for trouble. I knew it before Lily had said a word. Probably most men wouldn’t have, even if they had lived in the same house with a sister as long as I have with Lily, but I’m an unusually close observer. I notice little things. No matter how small it is, I’ll see it and interpret it. And nine times out of ten my interpretation will be correct. I’ve trained myself to do it. A man has to, as I see it, if he wants to get ahead. Of course, if he doesn’t, if he wants to remain a small-town lawyer all his life instead of becoming the chief legal officer of the sixteenth-largest county in the state, why that’s his privilege.

I began to eat, knowing that Lily was going to land on me, and why, and trying to prepare myself for it. Finally, when she still held back, I gave her a little prod.

“I notice you’re running low on pepper,” I said. “Remind me to bring some home tonight.”

“What? Pepper?” she said. “What makes you think I’m running low?”

“Why, I just supposed you were,” I said. “You have plenty? There’s still plenty in your kitchen shaker?”

She sighed, and pursed her lips together. She sat looking at me silently, her glasses twinkling and flashing in the morning sunlight.

“I just wondered,” I said. “I noticed that you only peppered one of my eggs when you cooked them, so…”

“Is there a pepper-shaker in front of you?” she said. “Well, is there or isn’t there, or hadn’t you noticed?”

She sounded unusually irritable for some reason. I said, why, of course, I’d noticed the shaker, and it didn’t matter at all about the eggs.

“I was simply curious about them,” I said. “You always pepper them, each one the same amount, so naturally I wondered why you hadn’t—”

“I see,” she said. “Yes, I can see how you might get pretty excited about it. It would be a pretty big thing to a big man like you.”

“Now, I didn’t say I was excited,” I said. “I said nothing of the kind, Lily. If my memory serves me correctly—and I think you’ll agree that it usually does—the words I used were ‘curious’ and ‘wonder.’”

I nodded to her, and put a bite of egg in my mouth. Her lips tightened, then she spoke shaky-voiced. “So you were curious, were you? You were wondering? You were curious and wondering about why I hadn’t peppered an egg! Well, I’ll tell you something I’m curious and wondering about, and that’s what you intend to do when you are no longer the chief legal officer of the sixteenth largest county in the state. For after the elections this fall, Mr. Henry Clay Williams,
you’re going to be out of a job!
”

She deliberately timed that last with the moment when I was taking a swallow of coffee to wash the egg down. I coughed and choked, feeling my face turn red. The egg tried to go one way and the coffee another, and for a long moment I was certain I’d strangle.

“Now, goddammit,” I said, when I was able to speak. “Why—what the hell—”

“Henry!
Henry!
Don’t you use that language in this house!” Lily said.

“But—it’s—it’s crazy! Outrageous! Why, I’ve always been—I mean I’ve been county attorney since—”

“Very well,” she said. “Very well, Henry. But don’t forget that I warned you.”

She got up and started to clear off the table. I hadn’t finished breakfast yet—although I certainly didn’t feel like eating any more—but she went right ahead, regardless.

The bulge under her apron seemed larger today. I glanced quickly away from it, as her eyes shifted toward me. It was very annoying, that tumor. Having to live with it constantly, and yet never daring to look at it, let alone to discuss it. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been for most men, but when you have trained yourself as I have—when you are used to observing and…

I observed that her glasses had an unusually high sparkle this morning. Obviously, then—I was immediately aware—there must be some dust on them. She couldn’t keep her glasses clean, and yet she was trying to pass herself off as a prophet!

I was about to make some pointed reference to these facts. But she left for the kitchen at that moment with a load of dishes, and when she returned I decided it wasn’t wise. After all, you don’t cure a trouble by adding to it. That’s always been my policy, at least, and it’s worked out very well. If—

Out of a job! Lose the election!

She was seated at the table again. She looked at me, nodded slowly, as if I had spoken out loud.

“Yes, Henry. Yes. And if you had any brains at all, you wouldn’t need me to tell you so.”

“Now, see here, Lily,” I said. “I—”

“Any brains at all, Henry. Or if you were even capable of listening. Hearing anything besides the sound of your own voice or your own thoughts, anything that might deflate the largest ego in the sixteenth largest county in the state. You’re a fool, Henry. You’re a—”

“I am, am I?” I said. “Well, I guess I know how to keep my glasses clean, anyway!”

The glasses flickered and flashed. Her eyes squeezed shut behind them for a moment. Then, she opened them again, keeping them narrowed; and her nostrils twitched and flared. And I knew the explosion was coming.

“Listen to me, Henry. What I’m saying is not for myself. I don’t expect
you
to have any consideration for me, your own sister who has practically given up her life for you, taken care of you since you were wet behind the ears. I don’t expect you to care if I’m so slandered and gossiped about that I’m almost ashamed to go out in public. I’m only concerned about you, as I’ve always been, and that’s why I’m saying you are going to lose the election unless you get up a little spunk, and act like a man for a change instead of a fat, blind, stupid, egotistical
jellyfish!
”

She paused, breathing heavily, her bosom heaving up and down. I was going to say something back to her, but I decided it wasn’t worthwhile. I couldn’t lose the election. I—why, I just
couldn’t.
And when a person can’t do something…

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, you can, Henry. You know I’m right. You know you don’t have good sense. You—shut up when I’m speaking to you, Henry!
Henry!
”

“I’m not saying anything,” I said. “All I was going to say was—”

“Nothing that would make any sense, that’s what you were going to say. You were going to say that no one in this town pays any attention to Luane Devore, but they do, all right. Perhaps they don’t believe what she says, but they remember it—and they wonder about it—and when a man is a spineless incompetent to begin with, it doesn’t take a deal of wondering to dump him out of his sinecure. At any rate, you seem to have forgotten that it takes more than the town vote to elect you. You have to have the farm people, and they don’t know that when Luane Devore says you—we—that she’s lying!”

“Well, they will,” I said. “After all, you’ve had that tumor quite a while now, and when you don’t have a—I mean, when nothing happens, why—”

I swallowed back the words. I looked down at my plate, tried to keep my eyes there, but something seemed to pull them back up.

She stared at me, silently. She sat there, staring and waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting and waiting.

I threw my napkin on the table, and jumped up.

I marched to the telephone, and asked for the Devore residence. There was a lot of clicking and clattering; then the operator said that the Devore line was out of order.

“Out of order, eh?” I said. “Well—”

Lily took the phone out of my hands. She said, “Did you say the Devore line was out of order, operator? Thank you, very much.”

She hung up and put the phone back on its stand. It seemed to me that she owed me an apology for doubting my word, but naturally I didn’t get one. Instead she asked me what I was going to do about the line being out of order.

“Why, I’m going to fix it, of course!” I said. “I’m a telephone repair man, ain’t I?”

“Please—” She put her fingers to her forehead. “Please spare me your attempts at humor, Henry.”

“Well, I’ll wait until it’s in order. Naturally,” I said. “I’ll call her later on from the office.”

“But suppose it isn’t repaired today?” She shook her head. “I think it would be best to go and see her, Henry. Lay down the law to her in person. Tell her that if she doesn’t stop her lies, and if she doesn’t issue a public retraction immediately, you’ll have her indicted for criminal slander.”

“But—but, look,” I said. “I can’t do that. I mean, going out and jumping all over a sick old woman, and—and it wouldn’t look right! No matter what she’s done, why she’s a woman, a sick old woman, and I’m a man—”

“Are you?” Lily said. “Then, why don’t you act like one?”

“Anyway, it’s—it’s probably illegal,” I said. “Might get into a lot of trouble. I’m a public official. If I use my public office in a personal matter, why—All right!” I said. “Go ahead and shake your head! You’re doggone good at telling someone else what to do, but when it comes to doing it yourself that’s something else again, ain’t it?”

“Very well, Henry.” She turned away from me. “Could I impose on you to the extent of driving me out there?”

“Why, certainly,” I said. “I’m always gl—
what?
”

“I’ll see her myself. I’ll guarantee that by the time I’m through, she’ll have told her last lie. And if you don’t want to drive me out, I’ll walk. I’ll—”

Suddenly, she was crying, weeping wildly. Suddenly, all the coldness and calmness were gone, and she was a different woman.

It was like that time years ago, when we were kids out on the farm. She’d taken me down in the meadow that day to search out some hens’ nests. We came to one, half-filled with eggs, and just as she reached for it, a rattlesnake reared up on the opposite side. And what happened then—my God!

She busted out bawling, but it wasn’t the usual kind. Not the way people cry when they’re frightened or hurt or something like that. It was, well, wild—crazy. More like real mean cussing than bawling. It scared hell out of me, a six-year-old kid, and I guess it did the same to the snake, because he tried to whip away. But she wouldn’t let him. She grabbed up that deadly rattler in her bare hands, and yanked him in two! Then she threw the pieces down, and began to jump on them. Bawling in that wild, crazy way. And she didn’t stop until there wasn’t enough left of that snake to make a grease spot.

I’ve never forgotten how she acted that day. I don’t think I ever will. If I’d had any idea that my harmless little remark at breakfast would have started anything like this…

“I’ll take care of her! I’ll fix that filthy slut! I’ll t-teach her how t-to—”

“Lily!” I said. “Listen to me, Lily! I’m going to—”

“You! You don’t c-care! You don’t know what it means to a woman t-to—I’LL CLAW HER EYES OUT! I’LL PULL HER FILTHY TONGUE OUT OF HER THROAT! I’LL—LET GO OF ME! Y-YOU LET—”

I didn’t let go. I held on tight, shaking her as hard as I could. And I didn’t like doing it, you know, but I was more afraid not to.

As soon as she was quieted enough to listen, I began to talk. To tell her and keep telling her that I’d see Luane Devore myself. That I definitely and positively promised I would. I kept repeating it until it finally sank in on her, and she snapped out of her fit.

“All r-right, Henry.” She shuddered and blew her nose. “I certainly hope I can depend on you. If I thought for a moment that—”

“I told you I would,” I said. “I’ll do it this evening. Right after I close the office.”

“After? But why can’t you—?”

“Because,” I said, “it’s a personal matter; you can’t get around that. Even seeing her after office hours could put me in a pretty awkward position if someone chose to make anything out of it. But I certainly can’t do it on the county’s time.”

She hesitated, studying me. At last, she sighed and turned away again.

“All right,” she said. “But if you don’t really intend to, I wish you’d say so. In fact, the more I think about it, the less I care whether you do talk to her. I’m perfectly willing to do it myself—I’d
like
doing it—”

“I said I’d do it,” I said. “Immediately after five tonight. Now, it’s all settled, so forget it.”

I left before she could say anything more. I drove down to the courthouse, and went up to my office.

It was a pretty busy morning, all in all. I had a long talk with Judge Shively about the coming election. Then, Sheriff Jameson dropped in with a legal matter, and I had another long conference with him. As you may or may not know, a sheriff gets part of his income from feeding prisoners. This county pays Jameson fifty cents per meal fed, and what he wanted to know was, could he feed them one double meal a day instead of two, and still collect a dollar.

Well, it was a pretty fine legal point, you know. Something you might say was this way or that, and you could make a case out either way. I finally decided, however, that there might be just a leetle danger in the double-meal proposition. But I pointed out that the word meal could mean just about whatever he wanted to. A bowl of beans could be a meal or a plate of fried potatoes, or even a hunk of bread.

It was eleven o’clock before I got Jameson straightened out. I was hoping I’d have time to take a deep breath—maybe get out and see a few voters—but it just wasn’t in the cards. Because now that I’d gotten all those other things cleared up, why Nellie Otis, my secretary, needed me.

Oh, I didn’t really mind. Nellie is an attractive young woman, as well as an excellent secretary and there are twelve votes in the Otis family—and she’s always so appreciative of everything I do for her.

She stood by watching, all the time I was untangling the ribbon on her typewriter. She said she just didn’t know how I did it; she’d tried and tried herself, and she’d just made it worse. I said there was nothing to it, really. It was just a matter of going straight to the
source
of the trouble, like it would be in any other problem.

I passed it off lightly that way, but it
was
a pretty bad snarl. Just about the worst I’d ever untangled for her, and that’s really saying something. By the time I’d finished with it, and gotten washed up, it was five minutes after twelve. The whole morning was gone, and I was already into my lunch hour.