The Moon Is Down (13 page)

A man's voice answered her. She opened the door and a man's voice said, “I don't mean any harm. I don't mean any harm.”

Molly backed into the room and Lieutenant Tonder followed her in. Molly said, “Who are you? What do you want? You can't come in here. What do you want?”

Lieutenant Tonder was dressed in his great gray overcoat. He entered the room and took off his helmet and he spoke pleadingly. “I don't mean any harm. Please let me come in.”

Molly said, “What do you want?”

She shut the door behind him and he said, “Miss, I only want to talk, that's all. I want to hear you talk. That's all I want.”

“Are you forcing yourself on me?” Molly asked.

“No, miss, just let me stay a little while and then I'll go.”

“What is it you want?”

Tonder tried to explain. “Can you understand this—can you believe this? Just for a little while, can't we forget this war? Just for a little while. Just for a little while, can't we talk together like people—together?”

Molly looked at him for a long time and then a smile came to her lips. “You don't know who I am, do you?”

Tonder said, “I've seen you in the town I know you're lovely. I know I want to talk to you.”

And Molly still smiled. She said softly, “You don't know who I am.” She sat in her chair and Tonder stood like a child, looking very clumsy. Molly continued, speaking quietly, “Why, you're lonely. It's as simple as that, isn't it?”

Tonder licked his lips and he spoke eagerly. “That's it,” he said. “You understand. I knew you would. I knew you'd have to.” His words came tumbling out. “I'm lonely to the point of illness. I'm lonely in the quiet and the hatred.” And he said pleadingly, “Can't we talk, just a little bit?”

Molly picked up her knitting. She looked quickly at the front door. “You can stay not more than fifteen minutes. Sit down a little, Lieutenant.”

She looked at the door again. The house creaked. Tonder became tense and he said, “Is someone here?”

“No, the snow is heavy on the roof. I have no man any more to push it down.”

Tonder said gently, “Who did it? Was it something we did?”

And Molly nodded, looking far off. “Yes.”

He sat down. “I'm sorry.” After a moment he said, “I wish I could do something. I'll have the snow pushed off the roof.”

“No,” said Molly, “no.”

“Why not?”

“Because the people would think I had joined with you. They would expel me. I don't want to be expelled.”

Tonder said, “Yes, I see how that would be. You all hate us. But I'll take care of you if you'll let me.”

Now Molly knew she was in control, and her eyes narrowed a little cruelly and she said, “Why do you ask? You are the conqueror. Your men don't have to ask. They take what they want.”

“That's not what I want,” Tonder said. “That's not the way I want it.”

And Molly laughed, still a little cruelly. “You want me to like you, don't you, Lieutenant?”

He said simply, “Yes,” and he raised his head and he said, “You are so beautiful, so warm. Your hair is bright. Oh, I've seen no kindness in a woman's face for so long!”

“Do you see any in mine?” she asked.

He looked closely at her. “I want to.”

She dropped her eyes at last. “You're making love to me, aren't you, Lieutenant?”

And he said clumsily, “I want you to like me. Surely I want you to like me. Surely I want to see that in your eyes. I have seen you in the streets. I have watched you pass by. I've given orders that you mustn't be molested. Have you been molested?”

And Molly said quietly, “Thank you; no, I've not been molested.”

His words rushed on. “Why, I've even written a poem for you. Would you like to see my poem?”

And she said sardonically, “Is it a long poem? You have to go very soon.”

He said, “No, it's a little tiny poem. It's a little bit of a poem.” He reached inside his tunic and brought out a folded paper and handed it to her. She leaned close to the lamp and put on her glasses and she read quietly.

 

 

 

She folded the paper and put it in her lap. “Did you write this, Lieutenant?”

“Yes.”

She said a little tauntingly, “To me?”

And Tonder answered uneasily, “Yes.”

She looked at him steadily, smiling. “You didn't write it, Lieutenant, did you?”

He smiled back like a child caught in a lie. “No.”

Molly asked him, “Do you know who did?”

Tonder said, “Yes, Heine wrote it. It's
‘Mit deinen blauen Augen.'
I've always loved it.” He laughed embarrassedly and Molly laughed with him, and suddenly they were laughing together. He stopped laughing just as suddenly and a bleakness came into his eyes. “I haven't laughed like that since forever.” He said, “They told us the people would like us, would admire us. They do not. They only hate us.” And then he changed the subject as though he worked against time. “You are so beautiful. You are as beautiful as the laughter.”

Molly said, “You're beginning to make love to me, Lieutenant. You must go in a moment.”

And Tonder said, “Maybe I want to make love to you. A man needs love. A man dies without love. His insides shrivel and his chest feels like a dry chip. I'm lonely.”

Molly got up from her chair. She looked nervously at the door and she walked to the stove and, coming back, her face grew hard and her eyes grew punishing and she said, “Do you want to go to bed with me, Lieutenant?”

“I didn't say that! Why do you talk that way?”

Molly said cruelly, “Maybe I'm trying to disgust you. I was married once. My husband is dead. You see, I'm not a virgin.” Her voice was bitter.

Tonder said, “I only want you to like me.”

And Molly said, “I know. You are a civilized man. You know that love-making is more full and whole and delightful if there is liking, too.”

Tonder said, “Don't talk that way! Please don't talk that way!”

Molly glanced quickly at the door. She said, “We are a conquered people, Lieutenant. You have taken the food away. I'm hungry. I'll like you better if you feed me.”

Tonder said, “What are you saying?”

“Do I disgust you, Lieutenant? Maybe I'm trying to. My price is two sausages.”

Tonder said, “You can't talk this way!”

“What about your own girls, Lieutenant, after the last war? A man could choose among your girls for an egg or a slice of bread. Do you want me for nothing, Lieutenant? Is the price too high?”

He said, “You fooled me for a moment. But you hate me, too, don't you? I thought maybe you wouldn't.”

“No, I don't hate you,” she said, “I'm hungry and—I hate you!”

Tonder said, “I'll give you anything you need, but—”

And she interrupted him. “You want to call it something else? You don't want a whore. Is that what you mean?”

Tonder said, “I don't know what I mean. You make it sound full of hatred.”

Molly laughed. She said, “It's not nice to be hungry. Two sausages, two fine, fat sausages can be the most precious things in the world.”

“Don't say those things,” he said. “Please don't!”

“Why not? They're true.”

“They aren't true! This can't be true!”

She looked at him for a moment and then she sat down and her eyes fell to her lap and she said, “No, it's not true. I don't hate you. I'm lonely, too. And the snow is heavy on the roof.”

Tonder got up and moved near to her. He took one of her hands in both of his and he said softly, “Please don't hate me. I'm only a lieutenant. I didn't ask to come here. You didn't ask to be my enemy. I'm only a man, not a conquering man.”

Molly's fingers encircled his hand for a moment and she said softly, “I know; yes, I know.”

And Tonder said, “We have some little right to life in all this death.”

She put her hand to his cheek for a moment and she said, “Yes.”

“I'll take care of you,” he said. “We have some right to life in all the killing.” His hand rested on her shoulder. Suddenly she grew rigid and her eyes were wide and staring as though she saw a vision. His hand released her and he asked, “What's the matter? What is it?” Her eyes stared straight ahead and he repeated, “What is it?”

Molly spoke in a haunted voice. “I dressed him like a little boy for his first day in school. And he was afraid. I buttoned his shirt and tried to comfort him, but he was beyond comfort. And he was afraid.”

Tonder said, “What are you saying?”

And Molly seemed to see what she described. “I don't know why they let him come home. He was confused. He didn't know what was happening. He didn't even kiss me when he went away. He was afraid, and very brave, like a little boy on his first day of school.”

Tonder stood up. “That was your husband.”

Molly said, “Yes, my husband. I went to the Mayor, but he was helpless. And then he marched away—not very well nor steadily—and you took him out and you shot him. It was more strange than terrible then. I didn't quite believe it then.”

Tonder said, “Your husband!”

“Yes; and now in the quiet house, I believe it. Now with the heavy snow on the roof, I believe it. And in the loneliness before daybreak, in the half-warmed bed, I know it then.”

Tonder stood in front of her. His face was full of misery. “Good night,” he said. “God keep you. May I come back?”

And Molly looked at the wall and at the memory. “I don't know,” she said.

“I'll come back.”

“I don't know.”

He looked at her and then he quietly went out of the door, and Molly still stared at the wall. “God keep me!” She stayed for a moment staring at the wall. The door opened silently and Annie came in. Molly did not even see her.

Annie said disapprovingly, “The door was open.”

Molly looked slowly toward her, her eyes still wide open. “Yes. Oh, yes, Annie.”

“The door was open. There was a man came out. I saw him. He looked like a soldier.”

And Molly said, “Yes, Annie.”

“Was it a soldier here?”

“Yes, it was a soldier.”

And Annie asked suspiciously, “What was he doing here?”

“He came to make love to me.”

Annie said, “Miss, what are you doing? You haven't joined them, have you? You aren't with them, like that Corell?”

“No, I'm not with them, Annie.”

Annie said, “If the Mayor's here and they come back, it'll be your fault if anything happens; it'll be your fault!”

“He won't come back. I won't let him come back.”

But the suspicion stayed with Annie. She said, “Shall I tell them to come in now? Do you say it's safe?”

“Yes, it's safe. Where are they?”

“They're out behind the fence,” said Annie.

“Tell them to come in.”

And while Annie went out, Molly got up and smoothed her hair and she shook her head, trying to be alive again. There was a little sound in the passage. Two tall, blond young men entered. They were dressed in pea-jackets and dark turtle-neck sweaters. They wore stocking caps perched on their heads. They were wind-burned and strong and they looked almost like twins, Will Anders and Tom Anders, the fishermen.

“Good evening, Molly. You've heard?”

“Annie told me. It's a bad night to go.”

Tom said, “It's better than a clear night. The planes see you on a clear night. What's the Mayor want, Molly?”

“I don't know. I heard about your brother. I'm sorry.”

The two were silent and they looked embarrassed. Tom said, “You know how it is, better than most.”

“Yes; yes, I know.”

Annie came in the door again and she said in a hoarse whisper, “They're here!” And Mayor Orden and Doctor Winter came in. They took off their coats and caps and laid them on the couch. Orden went to Molly and kissed her on the forehead.

“Good evening, dear.”

He turned to Annie. “Stand in the passage, Annie. Give us one knock for the patrol, one when it's gone, and two for danger. You can leave the outer door open a crack so you can hear if anyone comes.”

Annie said, “Yes, sir.” She went into the passage and shut the door behind her.

Doctor Winter was at the stove, warming his hands. “We got word you boys were going tonight.”

“We've got to go,” Tom said.

Orden nodded. “Yes, I know. We heard you were going to take Mr. Corell with you.”

Tom laughed bitterly. “We thought it would be only right. We're taking his boat. We can't leave him around. It isn't good to see him in the streets.”

Orden said sadly, “I wish he had gone away. It's just a danger to you, taking him.”

“It isn't good to see him in the streets,” Will echoed his brother. “It isn't good for the people to see him here.”

Winter asked, “Can you take him? Isn't he cautious at all?”

“Oh, yes, he's cautious, in a way. At twelve o'lock, though, he walks to his house usually. We'll be behind the wall. I think we can get him through his lower garden to the water. His boat's tied up there. We were on her today getting her ready.”