“I don’t understand.”
The words came tumbling from her lips as if she could no longer keep them to herself. “You knew about his wound, of course? Well, it makes him want to do all kinds of crazy things.”
“Like what?”
“You know. Perverted things. He makes me do them. It’s the only way he can get stimulation. Without that he’s almost impotent! I don’t know what I’m going to do. Sometimes I think I’ll lose my mind.”
“I didn’t know he was wounded there. Did you suggest he see a doctor?”
“I begged him. But he just won’t listen. He tells me to mind my own business. All he wants is for me to have babies so that he can prove he’s a man!”
Nora pulled herself away and took a cigarette from a box on the table. Sam held a match for her. “He’s always doing things to annoy me,” she said. “He knows that the pediatrician told us not to take Dani out of the house. She has a cold. So he took her out there in all that muck and dirt and cold just to annoy me.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
She stared at him. “I’m going out there and bring her back. She’s my baby and I won’t let anybody, even him, harm her.” She somehow sensed Sam’s vague disbelief. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
“I believe you.”
“Maybe you’ll believe me after I show you something.”
She turned and led him through the bathroom into Luke’s room. Dramatically she opened the small door of the night table beside his bed. “Look!”
His eyes followed her pointing finger. There were two full bottles of bourbon and one half-empty standing on the shelf. He looked at her in surprise.
“It goes on every night. He drinks, then he comes after me. Then he drinks again until he falls asleep in a stupor!”
She kicked the door shut and Sam followed her back into her room. He studied her silently for a moment. “You can’t go on like this.”
“What else can I do?”
“You can divorce him.”
“No.”
The vague skepticism rose in him again. Suddenly everything seemed too pat, too well fitted together. “Why not?”
“You know as well as I. Mother doesn’t believe in divorce and would be terribly upset to have the family name dragged through the law courts.”
“And?”
She met his gaze steadily. “My baby. I’ve seen too many children maimed by a broken home. I don’t want anything like that to happen to Dani.”
He didn’t know whether to believe her or not. “I’ll go out to the project with you,” he said suddenly.
Nora looked at him in surprise. She had become so engrossed in the drama that she was creating that she had completely forgotten about going after Dani.
“To bring you and the baby back,” he said.
She smiled at him suddenly. He believed her. She knew that he believed her. And why shouldn’t he? The truth was obvious enough. She placed her hand on his arm. “Thank you, Sam. Go downstairs and have a cup of coffee while I dress. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
14
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Dani was having a ball. Her dark eyes sparkled and she screamed with delight as I let her go and she slid down the slide into Mrs. Holman’s waiting arms. When I took her, she squirmed around in my arms, reaching back to the slide. I laughed and put her up on it again.
“Hold her there a moment, Colonel!” one of the photographers called, raising his camera. “That will make a wonderful shot.”
Dani froze, posing for the picture as if she’d been doing nothing else for all eight months of her life. The nurse smiled proudly.
The shutter clicked and I let her go down again. Then I took her over to the swings.
I fastened her into the tiny seat and pushed. She gurgled with glee. The bright sun brought out all the roses in her cheeks and she looked like a little doll in her warm blue snowsuit. We were in the play area I had set up back of the model house to show how much space there was for outdoor living.
I looked down the street with satisfaction. There were cars parked all along the new street and salesmen were busy showing the various houses.
It wasn’t that each house was so different. The important thing was that they appeared to be. Each was basically the same, the conventional T shape with an expansion attic for later conversion to split level if the purchaser so desired. But by limiting construction to four to the acre, eight to the block, we were able to position each house differently. This created what the building trade called a custom look.
The price was right too—$13,990. Don’t ask me why it wasn’t fourteen even; that was another practice of the trade. I guess the ten dollars off made it seem more like a bargain. And it was too.
The purchase price included forced air heat and a carport. It compared favorably with houses closer to town costing three to five thousand more. And even though we lost twenty-five acres for roads and access because of city zoning demands, we would still come out with a clear profit of fifteen hundred on each house.
Dani laughed loudly as I pushed the swing still higher. I knew just how she felt. It was her world.
I looked beyond the swing. The bulldozers were already working on the next block, leveling and clearing the land. Tomorrow the shovels would come in and dig foundations, and the cement mixers. After that the frames would begin to grow where nothing but empty land had been before. It was my world too.
I felt a hand on my arm. Nora’s voice came from behind me. “Having too much fun to say hello to your wife?”
I turned in surprise. Though I had left a message with Charles, I hadn’t really expected her. She had shown no interest in the project up to now. “This is a pleasant surprise, Nora.”
As if by magic, the reporters and photographers, who had begun drifting off toward the bar we had set up in the trailer that served as our office, suddenly reappeared. I didn’t kid myself. Nora was the main attraction. Nora Hayden was news. Especially in her hometown.
“What brings you out here?” I asked.
Her eyes met mine. “Sam was good enough to drive me out so I could bring Dani home.”
“Home? For what? She’s having the time of her life.”
“You know she still has a cold.” She stopped the swing and began to unfasten the safety belt.
Sam was coming toward us, watching with a curious look on his face. “What cold?” I turned to Mrs. Holman. “You didn’t tell me Dani had a cold.”
The nurse looked at me, then Nora, then down at the ground. She mumbled something indistinctly. I couldn’t hear what she said. Dani didn’t want to leave. She twisted and squirmed in Nora’s arms.
One of the photographers smiled at Nora. “Children are all right,” he said in a friendly voice, “until you try to keep them from doing what they want to do.”
Nora’s face flushed, then turned white. She didn’t like the idea of herself with a screaming child in her arms. It wasn’t at all the way she pictured the scene. Mothers held sweet charming children posing prettily in their arms. She gripped Dani more tightly and began to walk away from the swing. Dani screamed even louder.
Nora turned and thrust her into the nurse’s arms. “Take her back to Mr. Corwin’s car.”
She turned to me. “Now see what you’ve done,” she said angrily. “You’re never happy unless you’ve succeeded in embarrassing me!”
From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the reporters edging in. I didn’t know whether they’d heard or not but I wasn’t giving them anymore. “I’m sorry,” I said in a low voice. “I didn’t know Dani had a cold.”
“Letting her play on the cold ground and in all this muck and dirt. I’m taking her right to the doctor.”
I could feel my temper going, but I kept control of my voice. “Don’t overact, Nora. Nobody will believe you.”
I was completely unprepared for the look of sheer hatred that flashed from her eyes. She didn’t ans
wer but that one glance told me that the things that were wrong between us had gone too far ever to be repaired.
Still, we were out there where everybody could see and I had to make it look good—for her sake as well as mine. I forced a smile. “Well, now that you’re out here, you might as well have a look around. What do you think of the houses?”
“I haven’t the time,” she said contemptuously. “I’ve got to get Dani home, then make arrangements to leave for New York.”
This time she had caught me flatfooted. “New York?”
“Yes. My United Nations sketch has been approved. They want me to come east and discuss it with them.”
That was news. Even these building trade reporters knew that. They pressed forward with questions. A moment later Nora was in the midst of a full-scale press conference. When I left to check on a grading problem the bulldozers had run into, she was relaxed and smiling, happy at being in the center of the stage once more.
I felt easier too. At least we were saved some unpleasantness. But that was only until I read the papers the next morning. I was out in the field when the telephone call came and one of the workmen came to get me.
It was Stan Barrows, the real estate agent who was handling sales for the project. He whispered into the telephone as if he didn’t want to be overheard. “Get down to the Valley National Bank right away, Luke. There’s trouble.”
“What trouble?” I asked. Valley National held the construction mortgages. “They have nothing to complain about. We’re coming in under the budget.”
“I can’t talk. Get down here right away!”
The telephone went dead in my hands. I started to call him back but I put the phone down. If he’d wanted to tell me more he would have. I went out to my car.
They were all there when I walked into the bank president’s office. They didn’t know it but I was more surprised to see them than they were to see me. I looked around the room. My mother-in-law, George Hayden, Stan, the bank’s president, the vice-president in charge of the mortgage division.
“I didn’t know there was going to be a meeting,” I said. “Somebody forgot to let me know.”
They looked uncomfortable but no one wanted to be the first to speak. After a moment the vice-president took the plunge. “Have you seen the morning papers, Luke?”
“No,” I said. “I leave for work while it’s still dark. They don’t come up the hill that early.”
“You’d better read this, then.” He held out a folded copy of the Chronicle.
I glanced down at a story outlined in red pencil. Next to it was a picture of Nora.
NORA HAYDEN TO DO
STATUE FOR U.N.
I looked up. “This is very nice,” I said. “But I don’t see what it has to do with us.”
“Read on.”
I continued. The first two paragraphs were nothing. They told about the award. It was the next three paragraphs that were the killers.
Interviewed at the grand opening of Carey Estates, a widely heralded building development sponsored by her husband, Colonel Luke Carey, former war hero, Nora Hayden, with her customary forthrightness, delivered her opinion of modern American homes, their owners and those who build them.
“The American builder is completely contemptuous of the American homeowner and housewife. Being completely unimaginative and inartistic, he is turning the American home into a conformity-ridden and tasteless cube for purely selfish economic reasons which enable him to secure greater profits. Each house looks exactly like the next, devoid of individual character, and any woman who allows herself to be railroaded into living in one of these crackerboxes has only herself to blame.”
When asked if her opinion applied to Carey Estates as well as others, she had this reply. “You may infer what you wish. Speaking only for myself, I would not even be found dead in so tasteless and styleless a structure, much less live in one.”
Miss Hayden plans to leave for New York later today to discuss with the U.S. Art committee plans for her proposed work.
I felt my stomach contract as I finished the article. I threw the paper back on the desk. “There must be some mistake. I’ll get Nora to make a retraction.”
“It won’t do any good,” George Hayden said. “The damage has already been done.”
“What damage?” I asked angrily. “The average home owner doesn’t even read this kid of bilge.”
“You’re wrong, Luke,” Stan Barrows said quietly. “Our sales book last night indicated forty-seven commitments and nineteen possibles. By ten o’clock this morning there were only eleven commitments and three possibles left on the books. I called most of the cancellations personally, and while they wouldn’t admit the reason, they all said they’d read the article.”
“I’ll sue the damn paper for this!”
“On what grounds?” George Hayden asked, contemptuously. “They’re only quoting your wife.”
I didn’t answer. He was right. I sank into a chair and reached for a cigarette. “Maybe if we changed the name of the project, if we took my name off it, it would help.”
“I doubt it, Luke. The whole thing’s already been given the kiss of death.”
I lit the cigarette without answering. My dream was going up in the air with the smoke.
“You’ve got to understand our position, Luke,” the bank president said. “We’ve got almost a million dollars out on this project and we’ve got to protect it. We’ll have to call the loan.”
“You’ll give me a chance to place it somewhere else?”
“Of course, but I doubt you’ll find any takers. We checked at least a dozen other banks, trying to syndicate the loan, but they all turned us down. We were the only bank willing to stay in for even a hundred thousand.”
I turned to my mother-in-law, who had remained quiet throughout all this. “What do you think? You know what this means. We bust and your three hundred thousand goes down the drain.”
She looked at me steadily. “Sometimes it’s better to take your losses and get out early. We could lose ten times that much trying to save a hopeless situation.”
I looked around at them. “I can’t believe this whole thing is going to blow up because of a few chance remarks.”
My mother-in-law spoke again. “Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so important if your wife hadn’t made them.”
Her inference was plan enough. “I can’t recall that you were ever able to keep her from doing what she wanted,” I said.
“Be that as it may, Luke. It was as your wife she spoke, not as my daughter. It was your responsibility.”
“She’s not a child!” I said angrily. “She knew what she was saying!”
“It was still your responsibility,” the old lady insisted stubbornly.
“How could I stop her?” I asked. “By locking her in her room without her supper?”
“It’s too late to be arguing over what’s already been done.” Cousin George turned toward me. “I was afraid of something like this. That’s why I wanted you to wait until you were better prepared.”
“Why wait?” I asked. “The idea was a good one. It still is. But that doesn’t seem to make any difference now. You’ve all made up your minds.”
I got up and started for the door.
“Luke!” My mother-in-law’s voice stopped me.
“Yes?”
“Don’t feel too badly about this. I’ll see to it that you get your money out.”
I stared at her. “I refused to accept any equity in the house you gave us. I refused the stock offered me in Hayden and Carruthers. What makes you think I’ll accept this kind of a handout?”
Her eyes grew cold and hard, but I’ll say this much for the old girl—her voice didn’t change an iota. “Don’t be foolish. There’s always another time.”
I smiled bitterly. “What you mean is that I can always go back to Hayden and Carruthers if I want to be a good boy and do as I’m told?”
She didn’t answer, but her lips tightened into a t
hin, hard line.
“Thanks, but no, thanks,” I said bitterly. “This won’t be the first time I ever went down in flames, just the first time I was ever shot down by my own side.”
I looked around the room. They were all silent, staring at me. “I’ll survive. I walked away from the others and I’ll walk away from this one.”
“Luke!” My mother-in-law’s voice was harsh and angry now. “If you walk out that door, you’ll never have another chance! I can promise you that!”
Suddenly I was tired. “It’s time we stopped kidding each other, Mother Hayden,” I said wearily. “We both know that the only chance I ever had was to do exactly what you and Nora wanted. I know that I was a fool ever to think I could learn to live like that!”
I closed the door behind me and went to a bar and had a few drinks. Then I went home to tell Nora exactly how I felt. But I never got the chance. She’d already left for New York by the time I got there.
I went upstairs to Dani’s room. She sat up in her crib and looked at me. I walked over and picked her up and held her close. Suddenly I felt the tears running down my cheeks. I pressed my lips gently against her soft little neck.
“Well, Dani girl,” I whispered, “it looks like your old man turned out a real bomb!”
I was discharged in bankruptcy on the day that she was one year old.
15
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Life came to a screeching halt. You move through the days but you might as well be a ghost. People don’t see you. You don’t touch them; they don’t touch you. It’s almost like you never were and maybe that would be fine except for one thing. You see too damn much.
Like the wide yellow streak threading its way through your gut like a snake you never knew was there. Fear isn’t always a physical thing. It has many faces. One of them begins when you buy someone else’s lies. Then you find yourself tied by the yellow thread of your own acceptance.
Where Love Has Gone (1962) Page 13