The Complete Stories of Morley Callaghan: Volume One

by Morley Callaghan

  “I don’t care.”

  Lottie was beginning to feel so lonely it hurt her inside. She felt she could not lift up her knee, and her head was heavy. Everything worthwhile seemed to have gone out of her, her whole body felt too heavy, and she could hardly look at Ellen. The water seeped through the shoe leather and her toes got wet.

  “Get up, Aunt Lottie.”

  “Why do you want to go back? There’s no use going back.”

  Ellen felt suddenly bewildered and could not make up her mind about anything. “I want to go back and do something,” she said. “I didn’t want to stay back. I want to go with you. Please get up, Aunt Lottie, please, please.” Ellen was trembling, the wind chilled her.

  Lottie got up slowly, heavily, and took Ellen’s arm. They stood hesitating, holding on to each other, the wind blowing Ellen’s thin dress against her legs. The wind was blowing through Lottie’s hair that straggled down her back, ends sticking out awkwardly.

  Going down the river, they walked slowly without talking. The river became wider and the current slower. They were walking in the big shadow of the bridge. The water in Lottie’s shoe swished as she walked and the persistent noise irritated Ellen. She could think of nothing else but the water in Lottie’s shoe, and the squeaking noise drifted with lazy, dull monotony through her thoughts. And then she could not hear the squeaking and hardly knew she was walking, though Lottie was beside her, holding her arm.

  The path forked out about fifty paces from the bridge, one path climbing the hill to the bridge, the other narrowing, going on under the steel girders arched like a giant web over the river. Ellen looked up at the lights on the bridge. “I’d like to be ’way up there,” she said. A light was near the rail in the middle of the bridge.

  “We’ll go under the bridge,” Lottie said.

  “All right.”

  They walked under the bridge, on the path close to the river. The river was wide and deep under the bridge, the path was very close to the heavy cement foundation, the bed for the steel girders.

  Lottie hesitated and turned back to climb the hill until even with the top of the cement foundations. Ellen followed her, anxious to do whatever Lottie did. To get on the cement foundations from the slope of the hill Lottie had to jump and Ellen did not think she could make it. Lottie had always been too nervous a woman to do such a thing, but now she gathered her skirts above her thin knees and jumped, sprawling on the foundation. Ellen, playing in the valley, had often jumped to the foundation and made it easily, and knelt down beside Lottie, who was not hurt, simply staring down at the dark water.

  “The water’s deep here,” Lottie said.

  “Yes, it’s pretty deep here, Aunt Lottie.”

  Ellen’s imagination became very lively looking down at the water. She became uncomfortable and aware that her hands were cold and clammy. Lottie’s lips were moving but Ellen could not hear what she was saying. It was very dark under the bridge and the cement foundation was cold.

  Lottie was kneeling, still looking down, listening carefully to the water running smoothly and quietly, until it seemed like a black liquid running through her mind. She straightened up, looking hard at Ellen, and clutched her hand tightly.

  “We got to do it, Ellen.”

  Looking down at the dark water under the bridge drove all the thoughts from Ellen’s head, but when Aunt Lottie stood up, jerking her up too, she no longer wanted to think of the water. She was afraid.

  “We got to, Ellen,” Lottie was muttering. “You know we got to, we really got to.” Her nails were digging into Ellen’s wrist. She stood up straight on the cement foundation, looking down at the water until her head tilted down slowly. Ellen stood beside her, trembling, trying to close her eyes and forget about the water. Then she instinctively drew back from the edge and Lottie looked at her fiercely and jerked her forward. Ellen was too scared to say anything, but Lottie, holding on grimly, fell forward and down, pulling Ellen with her. Ellen did not cry out. The deep water was not cold. The two heads bobbed up over the smooth surface. One of Lottie’s arms hooked around Ellen’s neck, the head bent back, the chin sticking up out of the water dipped down again. Lottie’s mouth yawned wide in her pale wet face, the jaw stiff, and they sank down in the deep water. They did not come up again.

  9

  The three women got into Dan’s car for the drive into the city. Miss Shipman didn’t bother saying good night to Joe and didn’t answer when he spoke to her. At the last moment Jerry decided to go with Dan and the women, and take the consequences from his wife when he got home. Joe cranked the car and waved his arm in a friendly fashion but no one paid any attention to him. He was left standing alone in front of the hotel. The wind was blowing strongly against Dan’s canvas beer and ale sign.

  Sitting in the hotel Joe had wanted to hurry home but now, with his hands in his pockets, he walked slowly, the wind cooling his head. He had been thinking too much about Lottie and Ellen and, feeling tired, his thoughts now drifted away from them, walking along, looking down at the ground. An automobile headlight appeared on the hill and, before turning across the high-level bridge, shone on the telegraph wires along the road in the valley. Joe could look up and count the wires glistening in the light. The big deserted barn loomed up in the shadows like a big hulk. Joe stood still for a moment, trying to come to some conclusion about it, but could not concentrate, so he moved on. He was quite sober. Walking along the road he assured himself he was sober but wondered why he could see a light in the house. Surely Lottie had gone to bed at eleven o’clock. After a service she was tired usually and went to bed early. Ellen might be sitting up reading. Joe was glad she liked reading so much. . . . Quite a wind was blowing, humming through the telegraph wires. In the fall the wind would blow strongly with a droning noise through the wires, he thought.

  Going along the walk to the house he looked up at the sky. It looked as if it might rain, though there had been no clouds earlier in the evening. He opened the front door and went along the hall to the kitchen, expecting to see Lottie or Ellen sitting at the table reading. No one was there. “They forgot to turn out the light,” he thought, going over to the table where he saw the note leaning against the handle of the lamp.

  He read the note and read it again and looked vaguely at the light. The lamp must have been smoking, there’s a dark ring at the top of the globe, he thought, but his heart began to beat loudly. Joe walked slowly across the kitchen to the woodshed and opened the door, closing it immediately, wondering why he had done it. “Lottie,” he called. “Lottie.” He started along the hall but turned and went into the kitchen, took the light from the table and hurried upstairs, the lamp tilting, the dark ring at the top of the globe deepening.

  Lottie was not in the bedroom. Ellen was not in her room. He put the lamp on the dresser in Ellen’s room and sat down on the bed, rubbing his head slowly with his hand and looking stupidly at the pattern on the rug. Lottie had wanted the rug on the floor beside the bed so Ellen’s bare feet would not be on the cold floor, getting up in the morning. The lamp was still smoking. He jumped up suddenly, blew it out, and ran downstairs out the front door. He stood in the center of the deserted road but didn’t know which way to turn.

  He knew Ellen had told Lottie what had happened down by the lake. He was bewildered, afraid of what Lottie might do, and looked helplessly down the road, wishing his heart would stop thumping. He wiped his mouth with his hand and felt sure he would be able to act effectively if his heart would stop thumping. He started to run along the road and up the hill to the streetcar terminal, running so fast he could not get his breath opposite the Anglican church on the hill. After walking a few paces he ran again, all the way to the terminal. There would be no car for fifteen minutes. If Lottie had gone to the city she would have caught a car earlier in the evening.

  Joe went in the lighted terminal waiting room and sat down to try and think clearly, but his glance shifted from one wall to another, unconsciously reading the jokes written in cha
lk on the walls. He would have to act quickly. Lottie could not be far away and if he could only keep cool he could find her. He could think only of Lottie, but he wanted to find Ellen, too.

  Getting up slowly, he stood at the door, looking along the tracks. His knees were weak and he wanted to sit down, but he walked back along the road as far as Kremer’s place. It was late but he pounded at the door. Three times he pounded before he heard someone coming downstairs.

  Ike opened the door and saw Joe on the veranda. “What’s up, for Chrissake, Joe?” he said.

  “You didn’t see the Missus and Ellen?” Joe said, deliberately casual.

  Ike came out on the veranda, a coat was over his night-shirt and his hair was standing up at the back of his head. He leaned over close to Joe. “You been drinking, Joe,” he said.

  “Yeah, I’ve been drinking, Ike, but the Missus ain’t home and Ellen ain’t home.”

  Joe did not show Ike the note in his hand. He would not show anybody the note. It would do no good. It would not help anybody to find Lottie.

  “Where could she get to?” Ike said, still sleepy, but getting interested.

  “I don’t know. Her hat’s on the table.”

  “That’s funny.”

  “I got to do something, Ike. I got to look for them.”

  Ike said, “Just a minute,” and went upstairs. Joe waited so long he felt like going away, but Mrs. Kremer came down and stuck her head out the door, holding a coat collar high on her throat.

  “Where do you think she is, Mr. Harding?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know at all. I got no idea. Didn’t you see her at church?”

  “No, she wasn’t at church.”

  “No, that’s right. Ellen wasn’t feeling well,” Joe said.

  The three stood on the small veranda, no one knowing what to say. “I’ll go and get my pants on,” Ike said suddenly.

  Mrs. Kremer watched Joe shifting uneasily, swaying from side to side, too agitated to do much talking.

  “It’s strange,” Mrs. Kremer said.

  “It’s strange,” Joe repeated. “I can’t make it out.”

  Ike came out tucking his shirt in his pants. “Let’s take a look around and if we can’t find them we’ll tell Hen Milburn, though he won’t do much good,” he said.

  Ike and Joe walked back to the house and Joe went upstairs to get the lamp, but was so long Ike followed him. Joe was trying to light the wick but his fingers were shaking and he could not strike a match properly. Ike lit the lamp. “It’s been smoking,” he said.

  “I did it bringing it upstairs.”

  They looked all over the house. Joe looked again in the bedrooms and in the woodshed, then sat down at the kitchen table. Lottie’s coat was gone and there on the table was her black hat with the blue ribbon.

  The hat had looked good on Lottie. Many thoughts came into Joe’s head and he began to feel sick at his stomach and wished he had not drunk so much beer on top of the whiskey. Ike was talking but Joe could not make out what he was saying, he could not adjust the words in his head.

  “I guess there’s no use looking around,” he said.

  Ike sat down at the table. “Why would they go off like that?”

  “I haven’t any idea, Ike. That’s all I can say.”

  They sat looking at each other until Joe’s chin dropped to his chest. Ike took out his knife and began to clean his nails. Joe straightened up suddenly. “I don’t think they’d go into the city,” he said. “I’m going to look all around. I got an idea they’re not far away.”

  He stood up and buttoned his coat carefully. No longer tired, he could think clearly.

  “Go down and see Hen Milburn, will you, Ike?”

  “What’ll you do?”

  “I’ll look around outside.”

  “There ain’t many places to look, Joe.”

  “They may have gone for a walk. It was warm. They may have gone for a walk down by the river. It won’t do no harm to look,” he said stubbornly.

  “All right. Come on.”

  At the road they separated. Joe went along to the river, walking slowly at first, trying to think of nothing and look all around. He found himself walking faster, and soon he was running down the path, glad there was a strong wind because it cooled his head.

  At times, when the moon was bright and it was quite light on the path, he could see across the river and along the banks, but when thick clouds hid the moon he had to look straight ahead. The clouds got thicker, then one inky rift became a big blotch and he could see the stars. He did not see the moon again. He slowed down going along the narrow path under the high-level bridge.

  He stopped running and walked fast, a lonely, tired feeling inside him. He would not find Lottie but felt better to be looking for her. He was going down to the lake to walk along the beach. He would climb up on the hills and look out over the lake.

  On the beach he could see better, but the sound of the lapping water of the lake disturbed him and he wanted to get away from it. The low hills back away from the shoreline grew steep. The bluffs were not so far away. He could climb up the face of the steep hills and look out over the lake. He hesitated but felt that he had to be on the hilltop and looking out over the lake.

  It was a hard climb. In places the grass was long and he could hang on, pulling himself up, but there were layers of soft sand and a slippery belt of wet clay. Joe’s foot slipped on the wet clay and he slid into a narrow gully, his feet moving rapidly, his body wheeling to make his feet strike firmly the opposite bank of the gully. He managed to keep on his feet until his hands caught a stump sticking out over the edge of the narrow defile. Falling had scared him and his heart was fluttering wildly. He tried to get his breath, but his arms seemed to be getting weaker so he pulled himself up to the ledge and scrambled on up the face of the hill. On top he lay flat on his belly in the thick grass, breathing hard.

  He had intended to sit down calmly on the hill, looking out over the lake, but, flat on his belly, he lay there and began to cry. The night noises from the hills worried him and he wanted to get back to the house. His heart bounded eagerly. Lottie might be at home, because she was always there when he went home in the evening, and would be in bed when he went home tonight. It wouldn’t take so long to get home. Instead of going down to the beach and up the valley, he would walk straight across the height of land till he came to the Kingston Road and go east. An hour’s walk.

  It was nearly two o’clock in the morning when Joe got home. A light was still in the house. He saw the light and started to run. The front door was open. Looking down the hall to the kitchen, he saw Jerry Hammond and Dan Higgins and could hear Ike Kremer and Hen Milburn talking. Lottie had not been found.

  “Here’s Joe now,” Jerry said.

  “Sit down, Joe.”

  “God, man, you’re all in.”

  “I’m all right,” Joe said wearily.

  Joe sat down weakly in Dan’s chair and scrutinized everybody in turn. “I guess it’s no use,” he said.

  Hen Milburn asked Joe where he had been, but before he could answer Dan insisted Joe should go upstairs and sleep.

  “We’re all going out to look,” Hen explained.

  “There’s no use looking,” Joe said.

  He slumped in his chair, listening until voices, getting mixed up with his thoughts, droned in his ear. If Lottie was within miles of the village she would be found sooner or later, he said to himself. Everybody knew about it. Everybody would talk about it. He simply had to sit there and wait. If he could only lean back and wait with his feet stretched. If only Lottie would call him. Joe was dozing, but Ike Kremer reached over and shook him. “Better go to bed, Joe,” he said.

  “I don’t want to go to bed.”

  “Go now and get up early.”

  Joe stood up and said it was very good of them all to help him. Dan listened uneasily, because Joe had been over at the hotel. Milburn was saying he had phoned the city and now the four of them
would search systematically. Hen Milburn was excited and talked authoritatively. He had taken charge of the search and would see it was done thoroughly.

  Joe went upstairs and lay down on the bed, intending to lie down for just a few minutes, but was soon sound asleep.

  10

  At half past ten the next morning Joe was told Herb MacIntosh, the religious man living down near the beach, had pulled Lottie and Ellen out of the lake near the river mouth. Hen Milburn told Joe about it. Joe lay back in the bed, closed his eyes, and said nothing.

  The bodies were carried up to the house by Ike Kremer, Jerry Hammond, Dan Higgins, and Herb MacIntosh. Joe did not go down to the beach but waited on the veranda and saw the procession, coming up the path by the river, hesitate at the climb near the cement bridge, Jerry backing up slowly, farther behind, Dan backing up slowly. They came down the road and up the path under the haw tree to the front door. Joe did not move off the veranda.

  Hen Milburn, who had stayed with Joe, came out with two sheets and told the men to carry the bodies into the parlor. Jerry, holding Lottie Harding by the shoulder, tried to back up the steps.

  “Will you move, Joe, please?” Jerry said.

  “Yes, I’ll move, I’ll go in the house.”

  He went into the parlor and sat down, watching Hen Milburn lay the bodies out on the floor. He looked once at Lottie’s face, the puffed and darkened lips, the matted hair, and did not want to look at Ellen. Hen drew the sheets over the bodies and straightened up. All the men took off their hats.

  “That’s done,” Dan said.

  “I guess we’d better get an undertaker,” Hen said.

  Joe stood up. “Would you mind doing it, Hen?”

  “Sure, I’ll do it, Joe.”

  Hen went down the road to phone and Herb MacIntosh, Jerry, and Dan looked awkwardly at each other. Joe wanted to say something appropriate. The neighbors had been very kind and now it was time to thank them but thoughts did not come easily and he did not say the intended words, just, “Thanks very much.” They all went out to the kitchen and sat down around the table.