Father Hadley had tried to comfort her in her grief. "Do not blame yourself, my child. The Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away. His will be done."
But she'd known better. The memory of her joy in her sin was still too strong within her, though she sought to free her soul of its burden by a thousand visits to the confessional. But all the soothing words of the priests brought no solace to her soul. Her guilt was her own and only she, herself, could expunge it. But here, in the quiet peace of the nave, beneath the silent, sorrowing Virgin, there was calmness and emptiness and oblivion.
Johnny Burke was bored. He took a last drag on the butt and spun it out into the gutter. The pimply-faced boy next to him said, "Let's go over and see if Tessie is busy."
"Tessie is always busy. Besides, I hear she give a feller a dose. I ain't takin' any chances." Johnny took out another cigarette and lit it, his eyes nervously looking up the street. "Just for once, I'd like to get me a dame that nobody else has banged."
"How yuh goin' do that, Johnny?"
"There are ways, Andy," Johnny said mysteriously. "There are ways."
Andy looked at him interestedly. "You talk like yuh know."
Johnny nodded. He tapped his pocket. "I got a little somethin' in here that'll make any girl put out."
"Yeah, Johnny?" Andy asked quickly. "What?"
Johnny lowered his voice carefully. "Mosca cantharides."
"What's that?"
"Spanish fly, yuh dope," Johnny said. "I stole some when Doc asked me to watch the store while he went upstairs."
"Gee," Andy said, impressed. "Will it work on any girl?"
Johnny nodded. "Sure. If yuh can slip it into her drink. Just a little an' she's as hot as a biscuit right out of the oven."
The druggist stuck his head out of the doorway. "Johnny, watch the store for me, will you? I want to run upstairs a minute."
"O.K., Doc."
They watched him turn into the entrance next door, then went into the drugstore. Johnny walked behind the counter and leaned carelessly against the cash register.
"How about a Coke, Johnny?"
"Uh-uh," Johnny said. "No handouts while I'm watchin' the store for Doc." Idly Johnny opened and closed some drawers under the counter. "Hey, Andy," he called. "Want to see where Doc keeps all the rubbers?"
"Sure," Andy said. He walked around behind the counter.
"May I have a Coke, please?"
The girl's voice came from the soda fountain. Both boys looked up guiltily. Quickly Johnny snapped the drawer shut. "Sure, Jennie."
"Where's Doc?"
"He went upstairs for a minute."
"She saw us," Andy whispered. "She knows what we were lookin' at."
Johnny looked at Jennie as he walked over to the soda fountain. Maybe she did. There was a peculiar smile on her face. He pressed the plunger on the Coke-sirup pump and watched the dark fluid squirt into the glass. "Yuh hear from the Champ yet, Jennie?"
She shook her head. "We were supposed to go to the movies tonight but he didn't get back from Berkeley. I hope nothing went wrong with his scholarship."
Johnny smiled. "What could go wrong with it?" he said. "He already took the state finals."
Andy came up behind him. "Will it work on her?" he whispered. Johnny knew what he meant. He looked up suddenly. All at once it seemed to him that he'd never really seen Jennie. She was one of the cherries and usually he paid no attention to them. She had left her Coke and was over looking at the magazines. He liked the way the thin summer dress clung to her. He never knew she had such big ones. No wonder Mike Halloran kept her on the leash. Suddenly, he put his hand in his pocket and took out the little piece of paper and emptied the pinch of powder into her glass.
Jennie took a magazine from the rack and went back to the fountain. Johnny looked down at her glass. Some traces of powder were still floating on top. He took it and put in another squirt of sirup, then held the glass under the soda spigot while he stirred vigorously. He put the drink down in front of her and looked up at the clock. "Kind of late for you to be out, isn't it?"
"It's Saturday night," Jennie answered. "It was so hot in the apartment, I thought I'd come down for some air." She put a nickel on the counter and took a straw from the glass container.
Johnny anxiously watched her sip the drink. "Is it all right?"
"A little sweet, maybe."
"I’ll put a little more soda in it," Johnny said quickly. "How's that?"
She sipped at it. "Fine now. Thanks."
He picked up the nickel, went back to the cash register and rang it up. "I saw what you did," Andy whispered.
"Shut up."
Jennie was turning the pages of the magazine slowly as she sipped her drink. Her glass was half empty when the druggist came back into the store. "Everything O.K., Johnny?"
"O.K., Doc."
"Thanks, Johnny. Want a Coke?"
"No, thanks, Doc. See you tomorrow."
"What did you go an' do that for?" Andy asked, when they came out onto the street. "Now we won't never know if it worked."
"We'll know," Johnny said, turning to look through the window.
Jennie had finished her drink and was climbing down from the stool. She put the magazine back on the rack and started for the door. Johnny moved over to intercept her.
"Going home, Jennie?"
She stopped and smiled at him. "I thought I'd go down to the park. Maybe there's a cool breeze coming in from the bay."
"Mind if we come along?" Johnny asked. "We're not doin' anything."
She wondered what made Johnny ask to walk with her all of a sudden. He'd never seemed interested in her before.
* * *
It was almost ten o'clock when Tom Denton came out of the saloon across from the car barn. He was drunk. Sad, weeping, unhappy drunk. He stared across the street at the car barn. Old Two-twelve was in there. His old car. But she wasn't his car any more. She'd never be his car any more. She was somebody else's car now.
The tears began to roll down his cheeks. He was a failure. No car, no job, not even a wife to come home to. Right now she was probably sitting in a corner of the church, praying.
Didn't she understand a man had to have more than a prayer when he got into bed? If he had a couple of dollars in his pocket, he knew where he'd go. The girls at Maggie's knew how to treat a man. He fished in his pocket for some coins. Carefully he counted them. Thirty-five cents. He thought about going back into the saloon. He had enough for one more drink. But then he'd have to ask Ellen for pocket money on Monday.
He felt the effects of the liquor beginning to wear off. Angrily he put the change back in his pocket. Drinking wasn't any fun when you had to worry about every nickel you spent. Almost sober now, he began to walk home slowly.
He was sitting at the kitchen table in the dark when Ellen came home half an hour later. He looked up wearily as she turned on the light. "I didn't expect ye home so early," she said. "What happened? Did they run out of whisky?"
He didn't answer.
She walked out of the kitchen into the narrow hallway. He heard her open Jennie's door, then close it. A moment later, she came back into the kitchen. "Where's Jennie?"
"I don't know. She's probably out with Mike."
"Mike is still in Berkeley. Jennie was here when I left for church. She said she was going to bed early."
"It's warm," he said. "She probably went out for a breath of air."
"I don't like her being out alone like that."
"Now, don't start on her, Ellen," he said. "She's a big girl now."
She took a kettle down from the shelf and filled it with water. She placed it on the stove and lit the gas under it. "Would ye like a cup of tea?"
He looked up in surprise. It had been a long time since Ellen asked him to share an evening cup of tea. He nodded gratefully.
She took the cups from the cupboard and placed them on the table. Then she sat down opposite him to wait for the water to boil. There was a worried expression on her
face.
"Don't worry," he said, suddenly feeling sorry for her. "Jennie'll be home any minute now."
She looked up, and in a rare moment of insight, saw what she was doing to him and to herself. She felt the tears coming into her eyes and placed her hand over his. "I'm sorry, Tom. I don't know what's the matter with me. Half the time, I imagine things that never happen."
"I know, Ellen," he said gently. "I know."
It was then that the policeman came to the door and told them that Jennie had been found in the park, raped and beaten. And from the look on Ellen's face, Tom knew that they were lost forever.
6
The three of them came out of the church into the bright sunlight. They felt almost immediately the curious watching eyes. Tom felt the sudden shrinking in his daughter and noticed the flush of shame creeping up into her face, still puffed from the beating of almost two weeks ago. Her eyes looked down at the steps as they began to walk down toward the sidewalk.
"Hold your head up, Jennie Bear," he whispered. "It's their sons should bear the shame, not you."
Jennie lifted her head and smiled at him gratefully. "And you, too, Ellen Denton," he added. "Stop lookin' down at the ground."
In a way, Ellen felt a sort of triumph. Her husband had finally returned to the church. She thought of how it had been early that morning. She'd been all dressed and ready to leave for church when she called Jennie. She opened the door of Jennie's room. Her daughter was sitting in a chair, staring out the window. "You're not dressed yet, Jennie," she said in a shocked voice. "It's time we were leaving for Mass."
"I'm not going, Mama," Jennie said tonelessly.
"But you've not been to church since ye came home from the hospital You've scarcely been out of the house."
"I've been out, Mama." She turned toward her mother and the dark circles under her eyes looked even darker in the light. "And everybody stared at me and whispered as I went by. I can't stand it. I won't go to church and be a freak for everybody to stare at."
"You're denying the Savior!" Ellen said heatedly. "How do ye expect forgiveness for your sins if ye don't attend church?"
"What sins does the child need forgiveness for?" Her husband's voice came from behind her. She whirled around, her temper immediately rising. "It's enough we have one traitor to the church in this house," she said. "We don't need another." She turned to Jennie. "Get dressed. You're coming with me if I have to drag ye."
"I’m not going, Mama," Jennie said. "I can't."
Ellen took a threatening step toward her daughter. She raised her hand. Suddenly, she felt her wrist caught in a grip of steel and she turned to look up into the face of her husband. His usually soft blue eyes were cold and hard. "Leave the child be! Have you gone completely mad?"
She looked up at him for a moment and then the flashing anger dissolved within her, leaving her spent and weak. The tears started in her eyes. "Father Hadley asked me to bring her. He said he'd offer up a prayer for her comfort."
He felt the release of her anger and let go of her wrist. Her arm fell limply at her side. He turned to his daughter. "Is that the reason you won't go to church, Jennie Bear?" he asked gently. "Because they stare at you?"
She nodded silently.
"Would you go if I were to come with you?" he asked suddenly.
Jennie looked into his eyes and saw the love there. After a moment, she nodded. "Yes, Daddy."
"All right, then. Get dressed. I'll be shaved in a minute." He turned and left the room quickly. Ellen stared after him, almost too surprised to realize what had happened.
There had been a buzz of surprise as they walked down the aisle to their pew. Tom could see heads twisting as they gaped, and a shudder ran through him at all the cruelty that was inherent in all human beings. His hand tightened on his daughter's and he smiled as he knelt toward the altar and crossed himself before taking his seat.
But as bad as it had been when they came in, it was that much worse when they came out. The curious had had time to gather on the steps in the bright morning sunshine. It was like running a gantlet of idiots.
"It's over now," he said softly as they turned the corner.
They crossed the street, walking toward the drugstore on the next corner. A group of boys were lounging about the store window, dressed in their Sunday best. The boys fell silent as they approached, staring at them with their wise, street-corner eyes. Tom stared back angrily at them and their eyes fell before his. They walked by and turned the corner to their house.
From around the corner behind him, Tom could hear the sudden explosion of their whispered conversation. Then one boy snickered and another boy laughed and the merriment had a sick, dirty sound to it that tore at his heart. Abruptly he let go of Jennie's arm and walked back around the corner. They looked at him in surprise, the laughter frozen on their lips.
"What's the joke, boys?" he asked, his anger making his face white and cold. "Tell it to me so I may laugh with you."
They stared at him silently, shamefaced. They looked down at their feet, they shuffled awkwardly, glancing at each other with secret looks filled with a meaning that Tom remembered from his own youth. It was as if they'd been surprised looking at dirty pictures.
A shame for what he'd been at their age came over him and a sick weariness replaced the anger. "Get off this corner," he said softly. "And if ever I hear of any of you laughing or making any remarks about me or any member of my family, I’ll come down here and tear the lot of you apart with my bare hands!"
The tallest of the boys took a step toward him. His eyes were sly and insolent. He was slightly taller than Tom and he looked down at him with a faint, contemptuous smile. "It's a free country. We can stand here if we like."
The resentment in Tom suddenly exploded. He seized the boy by his jacket lapels and forced him to his knees. "Free, is it?" he shouted, his veins purple on his forehead. "Free for you to stand here and choose who you'll rape tonight?" He raised an open hand to slap the boy across the face.
The boy cringed, the insolence gone from his face. "What yuh pickin' on us for, Mr. Denton? We aren't the ones fucked Jennie."
The words seemed to freeze the blood in Tom's veins. He stood there, his hand still upraised, staring down at the boy. Fucked Jennie. They could say that about his own daughter and there was nothing he could do that could change the fact of it. Slowly he let his hand fall to his side, then with a violent gesture, he flung the boy away from him.
Tom glared at them, looking from one to another. They were only boys, he told himself. He couldn't hate all boys because of what two had done. The boy was right. They weren't the guilty ones.
A sense of failure came over him. If anyone was guilty, he was the guiltiest of all. If he'd been a man and kept his job, all this might never have happened. "Get off this corner," he said. "If any of you ever see me coming this way again, you'd better be on the other side of the street."
They looked at him and then at each other and it almost seemed now as if they were pitying him. Suddenly, as if a secret message had been passed mysteriously between them, they began to disperse in ones and twos.
A moment later, he was alone on the corner. He stood there for a moment to quiet the sudden trembling that came over him, then he, too, turned and walked around the corner to where his wife and daughter were waiting for him. "It's over now," he said for the second time that morning, as he took Jennie's arm and started for the house again. But this time, he knew, even as he said it, that it wasn't over — that it would never be over as long as he was alive to remember.
* * *
The cool September breeze held the first hint of autumn. Jennie looked out the cable-car window toward her stop. Her father was standing there under the street lamp, waiting for her as he did each night now. The car stopped and she stepped down.
"Hello, Daddy."
"Hi, Jennie Bear."
She fell into step beside him as they turned the corner toward home. "Any luck today?"
He sh
ook his head. "I don't understand it. There just are no jobs."
"Maybe there'll be one tomorrow."
"I hope so," he said. "Maybe after the election, things will look up. Roosevelt says the government has to take the lead in providing work, that big business has fallen down on its responsibilities. He makes more sense for the working man than Hoover and the Republicans." He looked at her. "How did it go today?"
"All right," she said. But there still was an uncomfortable feeling in the office. Many of the company agents had taken to stopping at her desk on their way in and out of the office. Sometimes they just chatted, but some of them had tried to date her. Maybe if things had been different, she'd have gone out with them. But when she looked up from her desk into their eyes, she knew what they were thinking. She'd refuse politely and some of them would stammer or even blush, for they knew somehow that she knew.
"You don't have to meet me every night, Daddy," she said suddenly. "I'm not afraid to come home alone."
"I know you're not. I've known it from that first day I came to meet you. But I want to do it. It's the one time of the whole day that I feel I've really got something to do."
Jennie didn't answer and they walked along silently for a moment. "Do you want me to stop?"
"Not if you want to meet me, Daddy."
They were at the steps of the house now and she started up. Her father placed a hand on her arm. "Let's not go up just yet, Jennie Bear. Let's sit here and talk a minute."
She looked down at him. His face was serious. "What is it, Daddy?"
"I didn't tell your mother. I went to see Father Hadley today."
"Yes?"
"He won't come down to court to testify to your character. He told me it's against the rules of the church. And the same goes for the sisters at the school."
JC1 The Carpetbaggers Page 61