To All My Fans, With Love, From Sylvie

by Ellen Conford

  I slumped back in the seat, feeling the tears starting up in my eyes. Walter must have been pretty shocked by my screaming like that because he didn’t say anything for a long time.

  “Maybe nobody else cares what happens to you,” he said slowly, “but I do. And maybe I haven’t got any right to tell you what to do, but I can’t help it. You—you get to me, Ven—I mean—oh, hell, what am I supposed to call you anyway? You want me to call you Lauri? Or you want to change it again? Mary, Penelope, Edith—I’ll call you any damn name you please.”

  I reached into my pocketbook and pulled a Kleenex out of my little purse pack. I wiped my eyes with it.

  “What do you mean, I get to you? And why should you care about me? You don’t even know me.”

  “And you don’t know me. So you don’t know what I care about and don’t care about.”

  Walter reached over and flipped the radio on. Twangy banjo music blared out, so loud that you’d have to shout to talk over it. But Walter didn’t talk. He just kept his hands tight around the steering wheel and didn’t say another word.

  We turned onto a main road with two lanes in each direction. It was flatter here, not so hilly, and I began to see billboards on the side of the road. The car picked up speed. We passed a sign that said HOXEY—10 MI.

  I watched the billboards whiz by. The Marlboro Man, with his tattoo; a package of Gillette Blue Blades with LOOK SHARP! FEEL SHARP! BE SHARP! in big, black letters; a little boy in pajamas holding a candle and yawning, IT’S TIME TO RE-TIRE. There was a picture of a tire next to him, so I figured they were selling tires, but I didn’t know what the boy in pajamas had to do with that.

  Now that Walter wasn’t yelling at me anymore, I could think. Only now that Walter had yelled, I found myself wondering as much about what was going on in Walter’s mind as what had been going on in Jim’s.

  Hoxey turned out to be a fair-sized town, a lot bigger than Winota. It had a real main street, with a drugstore, a five and ten, and a movie theater. Love Me or Leave Me was playing. I’d seen it already, but I wouldn’t have minded seeing it again. It’s a really good movie. Doris Day plays a singer, but it’s a very dramatic role and she surprised a lot of people by being such a good actress. James Cagney plays a gangster who loves her, but she doesn’t love him, even though he helps her get started with her career, and she becomes famous.

  Walter parked the car in front of the Blue Grass Grill.

  “We’ll eat here,” he said. He came around and opened the door for me. I got out of the car and a couple of boys standing in front of the drugstore looked me over. One of them sort of jabbed the other with his elbow and said something I couldn’t hear. The other one grinned and nodded.

  Walter took me by the arm and practically pushed me into the Blue Grass Grill.

  It was a bar, really, not a restaurant, and pretty dark inside. There were two men sitting at the bar, drinking, and listening to the news on a radio near the cash register.

  Walter led me over to a table against the wall and then went to talk to the bartender. Without even asking me what I wanted he ordered two hamburgers and two bourbons.

  He came back to the table and sat down opposite me.

  “I don’t drink,” I said.

  “They’re for me.”

  I had to go to the bathroom. The bartender pointed toward where it was. I felt like Walter’s eyes were stabbing through my back as I walked past the bar to the rest room. It was just a tiny little closet, practically, with a john and a sink, but it was clean.

  I used the john and patted cold water on my face. I put on fresh lipstick and pressed powder and checked my hair. It was in a ponytail because I hadn’t wanted to take the trouble making a French twist this morning. I smoothed the angel wings in place.

  I did all this automatically, without thinking about anything. I felt like I was sleepwalking. It was like I had no control over what was happening to me, and had just about stopped caring or feeling. I was a robot, like in a science-fiction movie, and Walter and Jim and Ruby Durban pushed buttons and made me do things.

  When I got back to the table, Walter had one empty glass in front of him and was starting on his second drink.

  The bartender brought our hamburgers to the table. I just looked at mine, like I didn’t remember what I was supposed to do with a hamburger, or why it was even sitting there in the first place.

  “You better eat,” Walter said. He picked up his hamburger and took big bites of it. I thought of a lion tearing away at a hunk of raw meat.

  They were telling about President Eisenhower on the news, about how his operation was supposed to have been a success, but nobody was sure whether he would run for President again now.

  Walter had gotten a Coke for me, which I thought was considerate. I hadn’t heard him order it.

  I picked up my hamburger and ate it. I don’t think I even tasted it. I just bit and chewed and swallowed.

  When I was finished, Walter paid the bartender and we went outside. It seemed very bright after the dim light in the bar.

  The boys in front of the drugstore were gone.

  I looked over at the movie theater. It was called the Palace. There were big posters for Love Me or Leave Me on both sides of the ticket booth.

  “You going to do any more selling, Walter?” I asked. “Around here, I mean?”

  “That’s my job.”

  “Well, how about if I go to that movie over there while you’re selling? Then you won’t have to explain me or anything, and I—”

  “That’s very considerate of you, Venida,” he said sarcastically. “Worrying about my having to explain you. Well, you just let me do the worrying about that. Come on, I have to get something in here.”

  He held the drugstore door open for me. I went inside.

  There was a big magazine rack in one comer. I went over to look at it while Walter got something from the counter right near the cash register.

  The new Photoplay was out, with the first pictures of Grace Kelly’s wedding to Prince Rainier. I pulled it out of the rack and flipped to the story eagerly. “A fairy-tale wedding . . .” it said.

  “You want some magazines?” I nearly jumped. Walter was right at my shoulder.

  “I know how bored you get just being with me and no TV to watch.” His voice was real low, but I could tell he was still being sarcastic. I pretended not to notice.

  “If it’s all right,” I said. I really had to have that magazine.

  “Sure. Get whatever you want.”

  I didn’t want to spend too much of his money, even though I was going to pay him back, so I just got the Photoplay and a Silver Screen. Walter paid for them and we went back to the car.

  Walter had a package of Sen-Sen in his hand and was popping the little black squares into his mouth two at a time.

  We got into the car and drove down Main Street and turned left. A couple of blocks past Main Street we turned onto a block with big, old houses and really tall trees lining the sidewalk. I looked down the street and there were more houses, as far as I could see. And this was only one street. I sat back in the seat and sighed. It was going to be a long afternoon.

  Walter pulled up in front of the first house on the corner.

  “I’ll wait for you out here,” I said, as he came around to open the door for me. “I can read my magazines.”

  “Fat chance.” He yanked the car door open and waited for me to get out. I just sat there and stared at him.

  “What do you mean? Why can’t I sit in the car?”

  “All alone? A pretty girl like you? You might get attacked again. Don’t want to take any chances on that happening, do we?”

  He looked me straight in the eye. His face was angry as a thundercloud. And then, all of a sudden, like I wasn’t a robot with no mind anymore, I understood it all.

  Walter was jealous.

  I know Walter sold a lot of Bibles that afternoon, even though I wasn’t paying attention to what was going on in all the houses we call
ed on. But his mood got better and better as those $5 down payments began to fill up his wallet.

  I just kept running it all over in my mind. Walter had said he cared about me. He said, “Maybe nobody else cares about you, but I do.” And it must have been true. Because it made him jealous to see me with Jim, and why would it make him jealous if he didn’t care?

  He probably didn’t believe that I had nothing to do with what happened under the tree, even though what I told him was the truth. And that made him angry. Here he was driving me to California, and spending money on me, which he probably thought I never planned to pay back, and trying to be pleasant and thoughtful, and the first thing you know, he thinks I’m making out with a perfect stranger.

  No wonder he was angry. No wonder he’d been so sarcastic. And hadn’t he said, “You get to me”? I didn’t realize what he meant when he said it, I was so confused and upset and all, but now I could see he meant he liked me.

  Once I had this figured out, I began to wonder what I was supposed to do about it. As I sat there in kitchens and living rooms all afternoon, not listening to Walter sell Bibles, I tried to decide whether it made any difference about anything that Walter liked me.

  It was better than not liking me, I guessed, since if he didn’t like me he certainly wouldn’t drive me to California. But knowing that he liked me, was I supposed to like him?

  I remembered how I felt when Jim had been just about to kiss me, then remembered the way I froze up last night when Walter put his lips against my cheek. I looked over at Walter a couple of times during the afternoon, once when he was drinking a cup of coffee a woman had given him. I watched his Adam’s apple move as he puckered his lips to blow on the coffee. I tried to imagine those lips on mine, tried to picture how I would feel if Walter took me in his arms and pressed himself against me like Jim had.

  But I couldn’t imagine it. Once I started trying, all I could think of was Jim, his big, blond head with the hair falling into his eyes, his big, red hands next to my head, his breath on my face.

  Was it just that Jim was so tall and handsome, while Walter was old enough to be my father and had a big Adam’s apple and a bow tie and wore his belt so high that his pants were practically hitched halfway up his chest?

  I didn’t know. And I started getting confused again. Maybe the only thing that would un-confuse me was to start concentrating on my movie career, which I hadn’t thought about for what seemed to be a very long time. I’d been so distracted by thoughts of Jim and Walter and selling Bibles and poor raggedy children with no shoes, I was forgetting why I was on this trip in the first place.

  It was about seven o’clock when we drove up to the Abe Lincoln Inn a few miles outside of Hoxey. It was built like a log cabin and I guess was supposed to look like the house Lincoln was bom in, except for the neon sign on the roof. It was still light out, but the sign was turned on, and flashing red and blue.

  Inside, the lights were dim and there were little tables with paper placemats on them. Walter ordered a hamburger for me. He wanted me to get something more expensive, like a steak or something, but I told him I wasn’t that hungry. Which I wasn’t. He was in a really good mood now, all smiling and talking about how well the selling had gone, and how friendly and hospitable the people of Hoxey were.

  I was glad he was in a good mood again, but I would just as soon he kept quiet, so I could fix my mind on my career and what I was going to do when I got to Hollywood. I figured if I just concentrated on my goal, my career, on what I had planned on doing for so long, I could keep a clear head.

  I looked down at the paper placemat. It was very interesting. It had a big drawing of Lincoln on it and a whole bunch of puzzles and quizzes and things about Lincoln, plus some little-known facts. I don’t really remember any of them.

  “We’re two of a kind, honey.” Walter was leaning over the table, talking in a very low voice. “Two lost souls on the highway of life. One with no ship and one with no rudder.”

  That sounded familiar. “I think that’s a song.” I scratched at Lincoln’s beard with my fingernail.

  “Sure it’s a song. It’s our song. It could have been written about us. You need a ship and I need a rudder.”

  I didn’t know what he was talking about. He was drinking bourbon and had ordered a New York-cut steak. I wondered about a Bible salesman drinking as much as Walter did. I was also kind of surprised that you had to go clear to Kentucky to get a New York-cut steak. I’d never heard of a New York steak when I was in New York.

  “See how it is, honey, you have no ship and I have no rudder. That’s why we’re two of a kind.”

  I still didn’t get it. I was tired. Exhausted. Until the waitress set our food in front of us, I didn’t realize how tired I was.

  No wonder I couldn’t think straight. I felt like all the blood was drained out of my arms and legs, and I suddenly wanted to flop my head right down on the table and go to sleep. My insides actually sagged. We’d been driving since eight in the morning . . . it was forever since I’d slept.

  I pushed my hamburger away and closed my eyes.

  “What is it, honey? You okay?”

  “Tired. So tired.”

  “ ’Course you are. I should have realized you’re not used to this kind of traveling around. Eat your hamburger, honey. You must be starving. Long day. You don’t even know how hungry you are.”

  He stabbed a piece of meat with his fork and held it out toward me. “This steak is like butter. Want to try a bite? You can still change your mind and get the steak if you want.”

  “No, no, that’s okay. I’ll eat the hamburger.”

  Walter had two more drinks before we left the restaurant.

  “We’d better call it a day,” he said as he started up the car. “You really look beat.”

  “Yes.” I leaned back and took a deep breath. It was just getting dark, but it felt like midnight, I was so sleepy.

  “There’s a nice place a few miles down the road,” Walter said. “One of the other salesmen told me about it. Probably no TV, though.” He said it teasingly, not like he had before.

  “Doesn’t matter. All I want to do is go to bed.”

  “Well, it won’t be long now.” Walter began to whistle.

  In a few minutes he passed a sign that said YOU ARE NOW LEAVING HOXEY! COME BACK SOON! and a little while after that he pulled up in front of the Blue Grass Motel. There were quite a few cars there already, parked in front of room doors, but the VACANCY sign was lit up.

  “Be right back,” Walter said, and went into the office.

  He came back with a key and said, “Number seven. A lucky room.”

  I just nodded and smiled. He eased the car into the space in front of number seven and came around to help me out. He got my hatbox and his suitcase out of the trunk and I followed him to the room.

  He flipped the light switch on and put our bags down near the door. He was whistling again. He closed the door behind us. I heard a little click as the lock snapped.

  “Cozy, isn’t it?” he said.

  “It sure is,” I said sleepily. Then I realized how cozy it really was.

  “Walter,” I said, “there’s only one bed.”

  He was standing right behind me. He wrapped my ponytail around his hand and bent down to whisper in my ear.

  “That’s all right, honey. It’s a nice, big bed.”

  Chapter 12

  Maybe I was kidding myself about Walter because I needed him, but after last night, when he hadn’t tried anything, I was ready to believe that he was just what he said he was—a kindhearted Bible salesman who liked and respected me and only wanted to help me out. Even today when he got angry, I knew he was only angry because he liked me and cared about me.

  But now, here in the Blue Grass Motel, with one bed and Walter’s fingers twisted in my hair, I couldn’t kid myself anymore. My whole body began to shake.

  He put his hands on my shoulders and turned me around to face him. “You are the prettiest t
hing I ever saw.” His voice was thick and I could smell bourbon as he bent his head. I realized he was going to kiss me and I started to back away, but he grabbed my arms before I could escape. I twisted my head around, tried to pull my arms free, but his fingers were like steel in my flesh. His mouth came down on mine and I felt like I was drowning.

  I pushed at his chest, hitting out at him, gasping for breath, trying to get away from his mouth. He finally let go of me and I staggered backward. I wiped at my lips, trying to get the taste of Walter’s mouth off them. For a minute he just stood there, his eyes fixed on mine like he was hypnotizing me. And for a minute I just stood there, frozen, like he had hypnotized me.

  “Come on, honey,” he said. He was panting for breath, like he’d just run a race. “You know the score. Don’t play hard to get.”

  He moved toward me and I finally realized I’d better not just stand there like a statue. I made a run for the door, but I hardly had hold of the knob when he grabbed me around the waist from behind and pulled me off my feet.

  “No!” I screamed, kicking and struggling. His arms were tight around my stomach. I went crazy with fear and started crying. “Put me down! Put me down! Don’t!” I kicked backward and felt my heel hit his leg.

  “Jesus.” He let go of me and I fell onto the floor. I huddled there in a little ball, crying like a baby.

  “What is the matter with you?” His voice sounded like the hiss of a snake. He bent over me and tried to pull me up by my arm. “What are you crying for?” I shook his hand away and turned my face so he couldn’t see it

  “Leave me alone. Just leave me alone. What kind of a girl do you think I am?”

  “Are you kidding? I know what kind of a girl you are. You hop in a car with a man you’ve never seen before, you’re ready for a little roll in the hay with some shit-kicker you’ve known for two minutes—”

  “You’re disgusting! You’re drunk and you’re disgusting!” I pulled myself up off the floor and stared at him through the tears in my eyes.

  “Oh, no,” he said. “This isn’t the liquor talking. This is me, Walter Murchison, telling you the truth about yourself. You can stop playing your little games. They won’t work anymore.”