I stared at him in surprise. A lump came up in my throat. I’d never figured on anything that good. I stared helplessly at them. I couldn’t speak.
He spoke quickly. “What’s wrong, Danny? Ain’t that enough?”
Finally I managed to shake my head and smile. “I—I didn’t expect that, Ben. I just don’t know how to thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, kid,” he said. “It’s Sarah here. She thought it’s only fair that you should drag down a piece, because if it weren’t for you we would have none of it.”
Sarah was smiling gently at me from the shadow just beyond the table. “It’s only right,” she said.
Our eyes met. I didn’t speak. There are some things you just can’t say, some feelings you just can’t find voice for. I owed her a lot. If it wasn’t for what she’d done I might not even be around right now.
Ben’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “I wish there was a hot bath in this place, I sure could use one and then a real bed to sleep on instead of this damn’ old cot.”
Sarah looked at him. “Why don’t the both of you come down to the hotel with me? We can afford it now. You can get a room and a bath there and spend the night in comfort.”
“That’s the best idea I heard all night,” Ben said enthusiastically. He turned to me. “What do you say, kid?”
I shook my head. The Half Moon Hotel was too big a place. It drew a big crowd from all over the city. I was better off staying back here. “No, Ben,” I said quickly. “You go with Sarah. One of us better stay down here to keep an eye on things.”
He looked at me doubtfully, then at Sarah. “What do you think?” he asked.
She glanced at me and I shook my head slightly. She caught on quick. “I think Danny has the right idea,” she said slowly. “You come along with me, Ben. Danny will watch the place.”
The door closed behind them and then I went back to the cot and stretched out. I lit a cigarette and reached up and turned the switch. The glow of my cigarette was the only light in the room.
I was tired. I could just feel it now, stealing in weary waves up from my aching legs. I wished I could go with them. The hot bath sounded like home to me. But I couldn’t afford the chance. If Sarah stayed down there, maybe someone else who knew me would show up in the hotel too. At least down here I knew I was safe.
I ground my cigarette out on the floor beneath the cot and put my hands behind my head, staring up through the darkness. I could hear sound of footsteps on the boardwalk over the concession. People were always walking up there. It was a monotonous, muffled sort of wooden sound and after a while seemed to keep time with the beating of your heart.
How strange it all was! Even now I found it hard to believe. I’d been away from home almost two months. I wondered if the family ever thought about me. I guessed Mamma did, but I didn’t know about the rest of them. Papa would be too stubborn ever to admit to himself that he did.
I turned my face into my arms and closed my eyes. The muffled beat of the boardwalk ran into my body and loosened the tension in me. I dozed.
There was a knock on the door. I bolted upright in the dark and flipped on the light-switch. By the clock it was almost one in the morning.
The knock came on the door again and I got out of bed, rubbing my eyes sleepily as I walked to the door. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep. I had just wanted to rest a little while and then go out for a bite.
“Who is it?” I called.
“Sarah,” came the answer.
I opened the door and looked out. “What are you doing back here?” I asked in surprise.
Her face was luminous in the glow from the boardwalk. “I couldn’t sleep,” she answered, “so I went out for a walk and passed here. I wondered whether you were still awake.”
I stepped back from the doorway. “I was just grabbing a nap before going out for a bite.”
She came into the bungalow and I closed the door behind her. “Did Ben get his bath?” I asked.
She nodded. “And went right to sleep. He’s very happy—the happiest I can remember since his accident.”
“I’m glad,” I said, going back to the cot and sitting down.
She sat in a small chair opposite me. “Got a cigarette?” she asked.
I fished a pack out of my pocket and tossed it to her. She caught it and took one out. “Match?” she asked.
I got up and lit her cigarette for her, then went back and sat down. She smoked silently while I watched her. At last she spoke again. “How old are you, Danny?”
“Eighteen,” I said.
She was silent again, her eyes blue and thoughtful. Her cigarette burned down to her fingers and she tamped it out in a plate on the table next to her. “I’ve got to go back tomorrow,” she said slowly.
I nodded. “I know.”
Her lips tightened. “I wish I didn’t have to go, but he’ll be back.”
I watched her silently.
She stood up, almost startling me by the violence of her movement. “I hate him, I hate him,” she said bitterly. “I wish I’d never seen him!”
I tried to make a joke out of it. “Me too.”
There was a hurt, frightened look on her face. “What do you know about him?” she asked in a harsh voice. “What can you know about him? He’s never done to you what he’s done to me. He couldn’t. You’re a man.”
The quiet sound of her tears filled the small room. I walked over to her slowly, put my arms around her shoulders, and pulled her head down against my chest. My touch brought a fresh paroxysm of tears.
“The things he’s done to me, Danny!” she cried, her voice almost muffled against my shirt. “The things he’s made me do! Nobody can ever know, nobody would ever believe it. There’s a perverted madness in him that you can’t see. I’m so frightened to go back, I’m so afraid of him, of what he’ll do to me!”
I held her shaking shoulders firmly. “Then don’t go back, Sarah,” I said softly. “Ben’s doing all right now. You don’t have to go back.”
Her wide tortured eyes stared up at me. “I must go, Danny,” she whispered. “I have to. If I don’t, he’ll come after me. I can’t let him do that. Then Ben will know everything.”
There was nothing I could say about that. She was crying again. I brushed my hand over her soft hair and pressed my lips against it. “Some day, Sarah,” I said in a low voice, “you won’t have to go back.”
She turned her face swiftly and her lips pressed against mine. They clung to me with frantic desperation. Her eyes were closed tightly, the last tear hanging perilously on the fringe of her lashes. I held my breath a moment. So many things were wrong. But there was so much I owed her, I could never hope to pay her back. With my little finger I brushed the last tear from her eye.
Her mouth opened slightly and I pressed my lips against hers. “Danny!” Her voice was happy in my ear. “Danny, I can’t stand on my feet!”
Quietly we moved toward the bed.
She was agile, expert, and proficient. And yet with all the knowledge that I knew was in her, there was something about her that made me understand. And for that understanding I loved her.
It was Sarah with whom I shared my bed that night. Not Ronnie.
Later in the week Ben told me she was quitting her job with Maxie Fields. They were planning to go out West together to open up a new business. They hoped I’d be coming along.
Chapter Four
SARAH’S plans were all set. She had told Ben she would come down in the car and pick him up that afternoon and they would start out. I didn’t ask her if she had said anything to Maxie about her leaving him, but I guessed that she hadn’t.
For some reason or other, she had hardly spoken to me the few times she came down to the Island. She had kept away from me and I let her alone. I didn’t see any sense in getting into an argument with her, and before I knew it the season was over.
Suddenly one Thursday Ben was all packed and ready to go. He was happy and excited as a kid with an all-day suck
er. He could hardly wait until three o’clock, when she was due to pick him up.
“I wish you were going with us, Danny,” he called from the front room of the bungalow, where he was seated amid his luggage. “At first Sarah thought you were coming. She was terribly disappointed when you told her you were going to stay.”
Then the whole business was suddenly clear in my mind. I was a prize dope. She had meant to ask me herself to come along with them all the while, but when I had told Ben, that first time he mentioned the move, that I didn’t really want to quit New York, she must have thought my mind was finally made up.
Before I had a chance to reply there was a knock at the door. I heard Ben’s voice as he went to the door. “Sarah must be early.”
I heard the door open, then a chill ran through me. “Is Ronnie here?” It was Spit’s voice.
My first impulse was to run, but the only way out was through the front door, so I froze against the wall of the room and strained my ears to the door.
Ben’s voice sounded confused. “Ronnie? Ronnie who?”
Another heavy voice answered. “Don’t stall, bud. You know who we mean. Fields’s girl.”
A note of relief came into Ben’s voice. “You must mean my sister, Sarah, Mr. Fields’s secretary. Come in and wait. She’s not here yet.”
I heard heavy footsteps come into the bungalow and pressed my eye to the crack in the door. Spit and the Collector were standing in the centre of the room. The Collector was laughing.
“Fields’s secretary,” he haw hawed. “That’s a new name for it!”
There was a puzzled look on Ben’s face. “Was there something Mr. Fields wanted?” he asked. “I know Sarah wouldn’t mind if she had to stay a few extra days to help him out.”
The Collector looked at him. “Why?” he asked Ben. “Was she quitting?”
Ben nodded his head. “Didn’t Mr. Fields tell you?”
The Collector began to laugh again. “Maxie’ll get a big boot outta that. He’ll be surprised to find his babe was quitting on him.”
A strained look came on Ben’s face. “What did you say?” he asked tensely.
“You heard me.” The Collector’s voice was deliberately cruel. “No whore ever powders on Maxie Fields, no matter how high their price.”
Ben’s voice was the scream of a hurt animal. “That’s my sister!” he cried, throwing himself at the Collector.
He moved out of the range of my vision and I heard a sharp crash, then a thud as Ben fell to the floor. He began to scream.
“Sarah! Sarah! Don’t come here!”
I could hear the sound of several sharp slaps and muttered curses, but Ben kept on screaming. I shifted my eyes along the crack until I could see them again.
The Collector had one knee planted on Ben’s chest and was slapping him on the face. “Shut up, yuh son of a bitch!” he swore at him.
Ben kept on squirming and screaming. The Collector grabbed at Ben’s arm and twisted it backward viciously. “Shut up, yuh one-armed crumb,” he threatened, “or I’ll rip yuh other arm out of its socket!”
Ben’s face went white and he lay back limply and silently on the floor, his frightened eyes staring up at the Collector. I had never seen such fear.
“Maybe yuh better take him in the back room,” I heard Spit say. “If Ronnie sees him, she might start hollering.”
The Collector nodded and lumbered to his feet, still holding Ben’s arm. “Get up!” he snarled.
Ben awkwardly tried to get to his feet, but couldn’t make it. The Collector yanked on his arm and Ben screamed in pain: “I can’t get up! I’ve only got one leg!”
The Collector laughed. He let go of Ben’s arm and lifted him under the armpits as you would a baby and put him on his feet. “Boy,” he said callously, “you’re a real mess.” He poked Ben in the back and pushed him toward my door.
I looked around frantically. There was a steel bar near the door that I used to prop the tiny window up on hot nights. I picked it up and, hefting it in my hand, hid behind the door.
The door opened and Ben came stumbling through, the Collector following him. The Collector kicked the door shut behind him without turning around and went after Ben.
I stepped in quietly behind him and swung the bar. There was a dull sound and he tumbled silently to the floor. He never knew what hit him.
“I was wondering where you were,” Ben whispered hoarsely.
I looked up from the Collector and met his eyes. “I was here,” I whispered, “but I had to wait for a spot.” My mouth had a bad taste in it.
He bought my explanation. There was something more important on his mind. “Did you hear what they said about Sarah?” he whispered.
I nodded.
“Is it true?”
I looked at him. There was a pain in his face that nothing physical had put there; this came from the heart. Sarah was his kid sister. He had put her through school after their parents died, and then she had taken care of him when he was hurt. Suddenly I knew he would believe whatever I told him. For many reasons he had to, but mostly because he wanted to. Maybe some day he would find out what she had done. But not from me.
I shook my head. “No,” I said surely. “Maxie Fields is a racket boy. Sarah became his secretary, and by the time she found out what he was she knew too much for him to let her go.”
Some of the pain disappeared from his face, but not all of it. “Poor kid,” he murmured. “What she went through all because of me.” He turned his eyes to mine. “How did you meet her?”
“I got into a jam with this guy and I was hurt. She saved me.” It was the first time he had ever asked me what had happened. Until now he had taken her word that I had fallen from her car that night while she was bringing me out to work for him. “She’s a very square kid,” I said.
His eyes held level with mine and I let him search me for the truth. Slowly his face relaxed and the rest of the pain disappeared from his eyes. “What about that guy outside?” he asked.
“We’ll take care of him,” I said. I bent down over the Collector. He was breathing heavily as I flipped open his jacket and pulled his gun from the shoulder holster. I straightened up, hefting it cautiously in my hand. I didn’t want any accidents to happen.
Ben was staring at the gun. “That explains a lot of things,” he said wonderingly. “That’s why she had to get away in such a hurry. That’s why she couldn’t wait for me to get ready, but would pick me up on the way out. That’s why she always had to run right back to work. She didn’t want me to know.”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “That’s it.”
The sound of an automobile stopping outside reached our ears. We turned and looked at each other. I waved Ben back to the cot and stepped behind the door. We both stood very still.
I heard the front door open. Spit’s voice was very calm. “Hi yuh, Babe. Maxie sent us after you as soon as he saw yer clothes was gone.”
I could almost hear her sharp intake of breath. Then she screamed: “Ben! What have you done with Ben?”
Spit’s voice was anxious and reassuring. “He’s okay, Ronnie. The Collector’s got him in the back room just to keep him out of trouble.”
I heard her quick footsteps on the floor, then the door opened. She flew into the room. “Ben! Ben!” she cried. “Are you all right?”
Ben stood up. He was smiling at her. Spit was following her into the room. I stepped in behind him and pressed the gun into his spine.
“Stand quiet, Spit,” I said slowly. “I’m very nervous. I never worked one of these things before!”
I’ll say this much for him. Somewhere through the summer Spit had grown up too. He didn’t turn his head. His voice was careful, yet curious. “Danny?”
I prodded him with the gun. “Over against the wall, Spit,” I said. “Till your nose touches.”
He stepped cautiously over the Collector. “Up to your old tricks, huh, Danny?” he asked. “First Maxie’s money, then Maxie’s broad.”
&n
bsp; I reversed the gun in my hand and swiped him across the head. He staggered a little and I pushed him with my hand. He landed against the wall with a thump. I shoved the gun into his back again and pulled his knife out of its sheath.
“Maxie ain’t gonna like this, Danny.” Spit’s voice was threatening. “You got away with it once. He ain’t gonna like your hurting his boys again.”
I laughed. “His boys’ll like it even less if they’re dead,” I said coldly.
Ben’s arm was around Sarah. She was crying wildly against his chest. “Don’t cry, honey,” he said. “You’ll never have to work for that man again.”
Her crying stopped suddenly and she looked questioningly at me. “Does he know, Danny?” she asked in a hushed frightened voice. “Did they——?”
“I told him what kind of a man you were secretary to, Sarah,” I interrupted her quickly. “I told him how he wouldn’t let you quit because you knew too much about his business.”
“I know all about him now, Sarah,” Ben said. “Why didn’t you tell me before? We would have found a way out together.”
She was looking at me gratefully now. I smiled at her. She turned back to her brother. “I was afraid of him, Ben. I didn’t dare.”
Ben’s voice was reassuring. “Well, you don’t have to worry now. We’ll just turn these guys over to the police and be on our way.”
Fear had come back into her voice. “We can’t do that, Ben!”
My voice joined hers. “They’ll only hold you up and you’d never get started,” I said. “You better get going. I’ll turn them in after you’ve gone.”
“Will that be all right?” Ben hesitated.
“Sure it will,” I said quickly. “Now hurry. Get your stuff into the car.”
Spit’s voice came muffled from against the wall. “I can’t stand this way much longer, Danny. Can I turn around?”
“Sure,” I said, reaching for a piece of wire lying on a shelf. “In just a minute.”
A Stone for Danny Fisher (1952) Page 23