Two Serious Ladies (20 page)

The veins in Andy's forehead were beginning to bulge, his face was redder, and the wings of his nostrils were sweaty.

"All this must really mean something to him," thought Miss Goering.

"Often I used to go into an Italian restaurant for dinner; it was right around the corner from my house; I knew mostly all the people that ate there, and the atmosphere was very convivial. There were a few of us who always ate together. I always bought the wine because I was better fixed than most of them. Then there were a couple of old men who ate there, but we never bothered with them. There was one man too who wasn't so old, but he was solitary and didn't mix in with the others. We knew he used to be in the circus, but we never found out what kind of a job he had there or anything. Then one night, the night before he brought her in, I happened to be gazing at him for no reason on earth and I saw him stand up and fold his newspaper into his pocket, which was peculiar-looking because he hadn't finished his dinner yet. Then he turned towards us and coughed like he was cleaning his throat.

" 'Gentlemen,' he said, 'I have an announcement to make.' I had to quiet the boys because he had such a thin little voice you could hardly hear what he was saying.

" 'I am not going to take much of your time,' he continued, like someone talking at a big banquet, 'but I just want to tell you and you'll understand why in a minute. I just want to tell you that I'm bringing a young lady here tomorrow night and without any reservations I want you all to love her: This lady, gentleman, is like a broken doll. She has neither arms nor legs.' Then he sat down very quietly and started right in eating again."

"How terribly embarrassing!" said Miss Goering. "Dear me, what did you answer to that?"

"I don't remember," said Andy, "I just remember that it was embarrassing like you say and we didn't feel that he had to make the announcement anyway.

"She was already in her chair the next night when we got there; nicely made up and wearing a very pretty, clean blouse pinned in front with a brooch shaped like a butterfly. Her hair was marcelled too and she was a natural blonde. I kept my ear cocked and I heard her telling the little man that her appetite got better all the time and that she could sleep fourteen hours a day. After that I began to notice her mouth. It was like a rose petal or a heart or some kind of a little shell. It was really beautiful. Then right away I started to wonder what she would be like; the rest of her, you understand—without any legs." He stopped talking and walked around the room once, looking up at his walls.

"It came into my mind like an ugly snake, this idea, and curled there to stay. I looked at her head so little and so delicate against the dark grimy wall and it was the apple of sin that I was eating for the first time."

"Really for the first time?" said Miss Goering. She looked bewildered and was lost in thought for a moment.

"From then on I thought of nothing else but finding out; every other thought left my head."

"And before what were your thoughts like?" Miss Goering asked him a little maliciously. He didn't seem to hear her.

"Well, this went on for some time—the way I felt about her. I was seeing Belle, who came to the restaurant often, after that first night, and I was seeing Mary too. I got friendly with Belle. There was nothing special about her. She loved wine and I actually used to pour it down her throat for her. She talked a little bit too much about her family and was a little good. Not exactly religious, but a little too full of the milk of human kindness sort of thing. It grew and grew, this terrible curiosity or desire of mine until finally my mind started to wander when I was with Mary and I couldn't sleep with her any more. She was swell all the way through it, though, patient as a lamb. She was much too young to have such a thing happen to her. I was like a horrible old man or one of those impotent kings with a history of syphilis behind him."

"Did you tell your sweetheart what was getting on your nerves?" asked Miss Goering, trying to hurry him up a bit.

"I didn't tell her because I wanted the buildings to stay in place for her and I wanted the stars to be over her head and not cockeyed—I wanted her to be able to walk in the park and feed the birdies in years to come with some other fine human being hanging onto her arm. I didn't want her to have to lock something up inside of her and look out at the world through a nailed window. It was not long before I went to bed with Belle and got myself a beautiful case of syphilis, which I spent the next two years curing. I took to bowling along about then and I finally left my mother's house and my work and came out to No-man's Land. I can live in this apartment all right on a little money that I get from a building I own down in the slums of the city."

He sat down in a chair opposite Miss Goering and put his face in his hands. Miss Goering judged that he had finished and she was just about to thank him for his hospitality and wish him good-night when he uncovered his face and began again.

"The worst of all I remember clearly; more and more I couldn't face my mother. I'd stay out bowling all day long and half the night. Then on the fourth day of July I decided that I would make a very special effort to spend the day with her. There was a big parade supposed to go by our window at three in the afternoon. Very near to that time I was standing in the parlor with a pressed suit on, and Mother was sitting as close to the window as she could get. It was a sunny day out and just right for a parade. The parade was punctual because about a quarter to three we began to hear some faint music in the distance. Then soon after that my country's red, white, and blue flag went by, held up by some fine-looking boys. The band was playing
Yankee Doodle.
All of a sudden I hid my face in my hands; I couldn't look at my country's flag. Then I knew, once and for all, that I hated myself. Since then I have accepted my status as a skunk. 'Citizen Skunk' happens to be a little private name I have for myself. You can have some fun in the mud, though, you know, if you just accept a seat in it instead of trying to squirm around."

"Well," said Miss Goering, "I certainly think you could pull yourself together with a bit of an effort. I wouldn't put much stock in that flag episode either."

He looked at her vaguely. "You talk like a society lady," he said to her.

"I am a society lady," said Miss Goering. "I am also rich, but I have purposely reduced my living standards. I have left my lovely home and I have moved out to a little house on the island. The house is in very bad shape and costs me practically nothing. What do you think of that?"

"I think you're cuckoo," said Andy, and not at all in a friendly tone. He was frowning darkly. "People like you shouldn't be allowed to have money."

Miss Goering was surprised to hear him making such a show of righteous indignation.

"Please," she said, "could you possibly open the window?"

"There will be an awfully cold wind blowing through here if I do," said Andy.

"Nevertheless," said Miss Goering, "I think I would prefer it."

"I'll tell you," said Andy, moving uncomfortably around his chair. "I just put in a bad spell of grippe and I'm dead afraid of getting into a draft." He bit his lip and looked terribly worried. "I could go and stand in the next room if you want while you get your breath of fresh air," he added, brightening up a bit.

"That's a jolly good idea," said Miss Goering.

He left and closed the bedroom door softly behind him. She was delighted with the chance to get some cool air, and after she had opened the window she placed her two hands on the sill far apart from each other and leaned out. She would have enjoyed this far more had she not been certain that Andy was standing still in his room consumed with boredom and impatience. He still frightened her a little and at the same time she felt that he was a terrible burden. There was a gas station opposite the apartment house. Although the office was deserted at the moment, it was brightly lighted and a radio on the desk had been left on. There was a folksong coming over the air. Soon there was a short rap at the bedroom door, which was just what she had been expecting to hear. She closed the window regretfully before the tune had finished.

"Come in," she called to him, "come in." She was dismayed to see when Andy opened the door that he had removed all of his clothing with the exception of his socks and his underdrawers. He did not seem to be embarrassed, but behaved as though they had both tacitly understood that he was to appear dressed in this fashion.

He walked with her to the couch and made her sit down beside him. Then he flung his arm around her and crossed his legs. His legs were terribly thin, and on the whole he looked inconsequential now that he had removed his clothing. He pressed his cheek to Miss Goering's.

"Do you think you could make me a little happy?" he asked her.

"For Heaven's sake," said Miss Goering, sitting bolt upright, "I thought you were beyond that."

"Well, no man can really look into the future, you know." He narrowed his eyes and attempted to kiss her.

"Now, about that woman," she said, "Belle, who had neither arms nor legs?"

"Please, darling, let's not discuss her now. Will you do me that favor?" His tone was a little sneering, but there was an undercurrent of excitement in his voice. He said: "Now tell me whatever it is that you like. You know ... I haven't lost all my time these two years. There are a few little things I pride myself on."

Miss Goering looked very solemn. She was thinking of this very seriously, because she suspected that were she to accept Andy's offer it would be far more difficult for her to put a stop to her excursions, should she feel so disposed. Until recently she had never followed too dangerously far in action any course which she had decided upon as being the morally correct one. She scarcely approved of this weakness in herself, but she was to a certain extent sensible and happy, enough to protect herself automatically. She was feeling a little tipsy, however, and Andy's suggestion rather appealed to her. "One must allow that a certain amount of carelessness in one's nature often accomplishes what the will is incapable of doing," she said to herself.

Andy looked towards the bedroom door. His mood seemed to have changed very suddenly and he seemed confused. "This does not mean that he is not lecherous," thought Miss Goering. He got up and wandered around the room. Finally he pulled an old gramophone out from behind the couch. He took up a good deal of time dusting it off and collecting some needles that were scattered around and underneath the turntable. As he knelt over the instrument he became quite absorbed in what he was doing and his face took on an almost sympathetic aspect.

"It's a very old machine," he mumbled. "I got it a long, long time ago."

The machine was very small and terribly out of date, and had Miss Goering been sentimental, she would have felt a little sad watching him; however, she was growing impatient.

"I can't hear a word that you are saying," she shouted at him in an unnecessarily loud voice.

He got up without answering her and went into his room. When he returned he was again wearing his bathrobe and holding a record in his hand.

"You'll think I'm silly," he said, "bothering with that machine so long, when all I've got to play for you is this one record. It's a march; here." He handed it to her in order that she might read the title of the piece and the name of the band that was executing it.

"Maybe," he said, "you'd rather not hear it. A lot of people don't like march music."

"No, do play it," said Miss Goering. "I'll be delighted, really."

He put the record on and sat on the edge of a very uncomfortable chair at quite a distance from Miss Goering. The needle was too loud and the march was the
Washington
Post.
Miss Goering felt as uneasy as one can feel listening to parade music in a quiet room. Andy seemed to be enjoying it and he kept time with his feet during the entire length of the record. But when it was over he seemed to be in an even worse state of confusion than before.

"Would you like to see the apartment?" he asked her.

Miss Goering leaped up from the couch quickly lest he should change his mind.

"A woman who made dresses had this apartment before me, so my bedroom is kind of sissyish for a man."

She followed him into the bedroom. He had turned the bed down rather badly and the slips of the two pillows were gray and wrinkled. On his dresser were pictures of several girls, all of them terribly unattractive and plain. They looked more to Miss Goering like the church-going type of young woman than like the mistresses of a bachelor.

"They're nice-looking girls, aren't they?" said Andy to Miss Goering.

"Lovely-looking," she said, "lovely."

"None of these girls live in this town," he said. "They live in different towns in the vicinity. The girls here are guarded and they don't like bachelors my age. I don't blame them. I go take one of these girls in the pictures out now and then when I feel like it. I even sit in their living-rooms of an evening with them, with their parents right in the house. But they don't see much of me, I can tell you that."

Miss Goering was growing more and more puzzled, but she didn't ask him any more questions because she was suddenly feeling weary.

"I think I'll be on my way now," she said, swaying a little on her feet. She realized immediately how rude and unkind she was being and she saw Andy tightening up. He put his fists into his pockets.

"Well, you can't go now," he said to her. "Stay a little longer and I'll make you some coffee."

"No, no, I don't want any coffee. Anyway, they'll be worrying about me at home."

"Who's they?" Andy asked her.

"Arnold and Arnold's father and Miss Gamelon."

"It sounds like a terrible mob to me," he said. "I couldn't stand living with, a crowd like that."

"I love it," said Miss Goering.

He put his arms around her and tried to kiss her, but she pulled away, "No, honestly, I'm much too tired."

"All right," he said, "all right!" His brow was deeply furrowed and he looked completely miserable. He took his bathrobe off and got into his bed. He lay there with the sheet up to his neck, threshing his feet about and looking up at the ceiling like someone with a fever. There was a small light burning on the table beside the bed which shone directly into his face, so that Miss Goering was able to distinguish many lines which she had not noticed before. She went over to his bed and leaned over him.