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Black Mountain Breakdown

Page 23

by Lee Smith


  “This is going to take me a while,” Roger Lee says. “I ought to feel like a fool, I guess, but I don’t. I am a fool. I know it. I’ve thought it all out, but I don’t care. I don’t care, Crystal.” Roger Lee says this almost violently, slamming his hand down hard on the TV.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Crystal says.

  “Oh, I think you do.” Roger Lee speaks with such patience, with such gentleness and conviction, that Crystal grows alarmed.

  But he goes on that way. “I don’t care if you think I’m a fool. I’d have to agree with you. But like I said, I’m past that now. I’ve been waiting to talk to you, Crystal. I’ve been waiting a long time—months, years. I know Lorene and Odell are gone right now. I waited for that, too. I don’t want any interruptions. This is what I came to say, Crystal. I love you. I still love you. I guess I never stopped. I guess I never got over you in the first place.”

  “You’re kidding,” Crystal interrupts weakly, but something clicks in the back of her mind, and she knows she has always known it.

  Roger Lee doesn’t seem to hear her. He leans forward intently, going on, apparently determined to say it all. “I know you didn’t love me back when we were kids,” he says. “You were too young when we started. You were into too many things. You were just a kid, and then later I pressed you too hard. I pushed you. I should have given you time to grow up. I realize I have only myself to blame, and I do blame myself, in many ways, for all the things you’ve gone through.”

  “That’s not even true,” Crystal says. “None of it was your fault. It didn’t have anything to do with you. Besides, I treated you terribly. Don’t you remember that?”

  “Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” Roger says. “It should, but it doesn’t. I don’t care. I don’t care about that weirdo you lived with in New York, I don’t care how many men you’ve slept with, I don’t care about anything you ever did to me in the past. What I’m talking about is right now. I love you right now, Crystal. I can’t help it. I wish to God I didn’t, but I do. Sure, I married Judy. Sure, I love my girls. And I was doing all right with that, I guess, until we moved back here, and here you were. I didn’t have any idea. Nobody told me you were here, nobody mentioned your name. Do you know the first time I saw you again, Crystal? I can tell you exactly. I was standing on the street with Lewis Dean after work, at five-thirty, and you drove by in that car of Lorene’s, looking straight ahead. You didn’t even see me. You had a red scarf in your hair.”

  “A scarf,” Crystal repeats. Part of her mind is frozen.

  “I said to Lewis Dean, ‘I’ve got to go, I’ll see you tomorrow,’ and I just turned around and left. I guess he thought I was crazy.” Roger Lee grins. “Then you know what I did? I went back up in the office and locked the door and cried. I couldn’t stand it, you see. As soon as I saw you, I knew I still loved you, I knew I had never stopped. I probably knew it before then, even—I just wouldn’t admit it to myself. I thought you were unattainable, you see, all those years. But then I came home and you were here, and I could see that you needed me.”

  “You’re crazy, Roger,” Crystal says. “I don’t need you at all. I wish you’d go home. I wish you’d quit telling me this.”

  “I can’t,” Roger says. He grins again. “I’ve got to tell it, you’ve got to listen. I need you, too. At first I thought, I won’t say anything, I’ll get over it. I threw myself into my work. But the harder I worked, the worse it got. I took Judy to Mexico—big vacation, just the two of us. Judy had the time of her life. I felt like shit. We came back, I kept on working. I had entered politics in a small way, as you probably know. People tell me I’ve got a brilliant future. I don’t care. I don’t want it. I used to wait and see if I could catch a glimpse of you anywhere. But I wasn’t going to say any-thing.”

  “Obviously you changed your mind,” Crystal says. She smiles at Roger, and Roger laughs.

  “Well, this part sounds dumb, too. It sounds almost as dumb as the rest of it, but I swear to God it’s the truth. We were watching TV one night and I saw that beer commercial, you know the one I mean. Well, I must have seen it a million times before, but all of a sudden something clicked. It was that one about ‘You only go around once in life,’ you know the one I mean. Schlitz. And I thought, Hell yes, Roger! That’s right. Once is it. That’s the ball game. That’s all she wrote. So here I am.”

  “I see.”

  “Now,” Roger continues. “That’s what brought me here. All of that is what brought me. I haven’t had a fight with Judy, nothing like that. I waited to come and I came here to say exactly what I’m saying. That’s all. I want you, Crystal,” he says suddenly, more intense than ever. His brown eyes glitter as he leans forward.

  “Oh no.” Crystal draws back. “No, Roger.”

  “It’s not like you think,” Roger says. “I want you to go away with me. I want to marry you. I don’t care about Judy, I don’t care about the girls, I don’t care about anything but you. I’ve got the money to do anything I want—you know that, Crystal. It’s really quite simple. I want to make you happy.”

  “I am happy,” Crystal says quickly.

  “No, you’re not,” Roger says with absolute conviction.

  “I am so. I am happy!” Crystal screams.

  Roger grins at her. “Crystal,” he says gently. “Baby. I’ve known you all your life, remember? I know you, sweetheart, I know everything you’ve been and everything you’ve done. I’ve watched you go through all these changes, one right after another. You might think you’re happy now, Crystal, but you’re not. Living with your mother and a stepfather, what kind of a life is that for you? What kind of life is it for your mother either—to be blunt. Don’t you suppose she wants some privacy? What are you going to do, Crystal? Teach junior high school for the rest of your life? Dry up and be an old maid?”

  Crystal shakes her head to clear it, but she can’t. Roger goes on.

  “This is not any kind of life for a woman like you, Crystal. This is crazy. A woman like you needs a man. You need your own home, children, a position in the community. You need love. I want to make you happy, Crystal. I can do it if you’ll give me a chance. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, all my life.”

  “My God,” Crystal says with no expression at all in her voice.

  “I want you, Crystal,” Roger Lee says, standing up. Crystal stands, too. Roger kicks Lorene’s hassock out of the way, grabs hold of her and kisses her. A deep shock of feeling runs all through Crystal when they kiss; it’s almost painful. It’s been so long. It was there with Mack, then Jerold, some other times maybe, but it was never there with Roger before. “I want you,” Roger says again.

  Crystal reaches behind her and unzips her dress and for once the zipper doesn’t stick and the dress falls evenly, soundlessly, around her feet onto the floor. Crystal stands in her pantyhose and slip. Very gently, Roger pulls the straps down over her shoulders.

  “I always wanted to see your breasts,” he says. “I never saw your breasts before.” He leans over, kissing them, sucking on her nipples. Crystal moans. A feeling she has almost forgotten sweeps over her, closing her in.

  “Come on,” she says, pulling him toward the stairs.

  But Roger won’t come. “No,” he says, and by his voice she knows he means it and she stops. Roger picks her dress up from the floor and slips it back over her head. “Turn around,” he says and she does, and he zips it up, lifting her hair, and kisses the back of her neck. “Not like that,” he says. “Not now. I want us to do this right, Crystal.”

  “For God’s sake,” Crystal says. “There’s no way to do this right. There’s nothing right about it.”

  “No, it’s right,” Roger says. “It’s exactly right. I’ll need about two weeks to get everything in order, that’s all. Then we’re leaving.”

  “Where are we going?” Crystal asks. “Where will we live?” She is almost chanting.

  “We’ll probably live in Bluefield eventually,” Roger Lee says
in a matter-of-fact tone. He’s got it all figured out. “I’ve got more interests there than I have here, actually. It’s a pretty nice town. But before that we’ll take a trip. A long trip. How would you like that?”

  “Whatever you think,” Crystal says. Some part of her is screaming, or almost screaming, and then it breaks off and is still.

  Roger puts his hands on her shoulders and turns her to face him. “I’ll let you know,” he says. “I won’t see you again before we leave. I don’t want any messiness, any intrigue. I want to make a clean break, do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Crystal says. Roger is the only man in the world who would do it this way. “But what about Judy?” she asks.

  “I’ll feel some guilt,” Roger says slowly. “Of course. It will be difficult for Judy at first. But I’ll take care of that. You are not to worry about Judy,” he adds forcefully. “You are not to worry about anything.”

  “All right,” Crystal says.

  He continues to hold on to her shoulders and to stare at her face like he’s memorizing it. Now that things are settled, he seems dazed. “The craziest thing is that I don’t even care if you don’t love me,” he says slowly. “You will love me,” he adds.

  “I have to tell you something,” Crystal says.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s just that I don’t know. I don’t know if I can do it or not.”

  “Do what?” he asks.

  “All of it. Any of it. Marry you, be your wife. I don’t know if I’ll be good at it,” Crystal says. “Can’t we wait? A little while, anyway? At least until the end of the school year? I’ll never be able to get another job if I quit now.”

  “But you’ll never have to work,” Roger says. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take good care of you.” Roger pulls her to him and kisses her again. “I’ve got to go,” he says. “I’ll call you. Oh, one more thing,” he adds, and puts his hand into his pocket and gets out a little square box and gives it to her.

  “What’s this?”

  “A Valentine present for you. Go ahead, open it. Well, go on,” he urges when she hesitates, and she does, and it’s a square-cut dark-red ruby with a wide gold band.

  Of course.

  “It’s just beautiful!” Crystal says.

  Roger slips it on her finger. “I bought this two weeks ago in Washington. It just kind of reminded me of you,” he says.

  They cling together in shadow now. Roger snaps on a light, and Crystal looks at the ring. “It’s so beautiful,” she says.

  Roger kisses her hard and Crystal says, wanting him, “Oh, just come on, Roger. Come on now. Nobody will ever know.”

  “No,” Roger says. “I think I can wrap it up in a week, OK? I’ll let you know.” He kisses Crystal again and puts on his hat and leaves by the screen-porch door.

  Crystal goes into the bathroom and turns on the light. She looks at herself in the mirror: messy hair, no makeup, filthy wrinkled dress. The femme fatale. She holds up her hand, and the ruby flashes red in the mirror, red as blood in the mirror, holding secrets. But what about her classes? Darryl Whiteside has done better this year than he ever has before. Ellen Livingston just wrote a sonnet for her, last week. But of course they can find somebody else to take over her classes. It won’t be hard at all to find somebody else. Roger is inevitable. He has always been inevitable, but she hasn’t always known it. She washes her face, plucks her eyebrows, brushes her hair until her scalp is tingling. The idea of Roger slides all over like body lotion, covering her, working in. It’s so comforting, really, to have somebody again to tell her what to do. She goes through all the clothes in her closet, deciding what to leave and what to take. She goes through all her shoes. She does her nails. Then she turns out the light and lies down on her bed and cries and cries as if her heart might break.

  THE FIRST AGNES hears about it is in the Rexall, where she is having her lunch, when Brenda Looney comes bursting in at the door. Brenda Looney, a teller at the Levisa Bank and Trust, sees everybody and knows what’s going on all over town. She wears these harlequin glasses. Agnes has never cared for her and she never stands in Brenda’s line when she goes to make deposits at the bank. But here comes Brenda, slamming into the Rexall on her break, can’t wait to tell it.

  “Did you hear about Roger Lee? Roger Lee Combs?” she asks, talking to Mrs. Ritten, who works at the cosmetics counter and is a big friend of hers, but her shrill voice carries all over the store. “Well,” she goes on, and although two counters are in between Agnes and Brenda Looney, Agnes can imagine how she looks, how she would draw up her mouth, “Roger Lee Combs and Crystal Spangler have run off! Eloped! They say he left a note for his wife.”

  “Why, Lord, they can’t elope!” Mrs. Ritten cries. “He’s married! You can’t elope if you’re married.”

  “Well, run off, then,” Brenda Looney says in her loud voice. “It’s the gospel and I’ll swear it.”

  “Oh, and those poor little twin girls!” cries Mrs. Ritten. “That’s just awful! I can’t imagine Roger doing a thing like that. He’s just too nice of a person. Or Crystal Spangler either one, to tell you the truth. I’d gotten real fond of Crystal.”

  “Well, that’s what they did all right,” Brenda Looney says. “I didn’t know if you’d heard it or not.”

  “That beats everything,” Mrs. Ritten says.

  “What does?” asks old Mrs. Tyler Rockbridge, coming up, and they tell her and they tell everybody who comes their way. They say that Judy Bond Combs is under heavy sedation and her mother is being flown in on a private plane which Roger Lee is paying for.

  But you can be sure that everybody shuts up pretty quick when Agnes gets up out of her booth and goes over to the cash register. They forgot Agnes was in there. Agnes takes her time, too.

  “I want two packs of Dentyne,” she says, “and put it on the bill, please, Sue.” Agnes doesn’t have to tell Sue what she had for lunch. She always has the same thing, a tuna salad and a Coke and a small bag of barbeque potato chips. Agnes takes her time leaving—somebody connected to the Spanglers has to show some dignity, after all—and you could hear a pin drop. On her way past the cosmetics counter, Agnes sees the Coppertone ad up over the lotions, that little girl with her hair in pigtails and a dark tan. Agnes could just cry about Roger Lee’s poor little twin girls.

  Of course, as she reminds herself so many times later, it wouldn’t have done any good. Roger Lee has a lot of money by that time, and he gives Judy Bond the most alimony anybody every heard of. Judy builds herself a new Cape Cod house in Richlands and then marries Dr. John Wheeler two months after the divorce goes through. Dr. John Wheeler is a gynecologist at the Clinch Valley Clinic in Richlands. Crystal and Roger Lee come back from Florida and move fifty miles over to Bluefield where Roger Lee has some mines anyway, and they just lay low for a while. Nobody in Black Rock says a word about them, at least not to Agnes. It’s exactly like they have both fallen into one of Roger Lee’s mines. They get married eventually, of course—Roger Lee wouldn’t live with anybody without marrying them, Agnes reflects, he was always too nice for that—and about a year after this, all of a sudden Crystal comes out of retirement. Lorene and Odell have kept in touch with Crystal anyway, going over there to visit, and for all Agnes knows, Sykes and Bunny and Neva and anybody else might have been over there, too. Agnes herself hasn’t been invited. Of course, it isn’t any of Agnes’s business and she isn’t about to ask. Besides, every time she thinks about Crystal Spangler, it makes her want to either cry or else throw up.

  But then Crystal comes out of retirement, so to speak, and everybody in Black Rock sees what she’s up to. The first thing Agnes knows, Crystal is all over the Southwest Virginia Messenger, smiling out of the society page every Sunday like she deserves to. Mr. and Mrs. Roger Lee Combs return from Jamaica! Mrs. Roger Lee Combs has an intimate luncheon! Mrs. Roger Lee Combs heads the Heart Fund! That one really cracks Agnes up. She shows it to her mama, who says, “Well, I think that’s real nice.” Another day
her mama says, “Well, they always were in love,” right in the middle of nothing, but Agnes knows exactly who she’s talking about. Her mama thinks it is romantic.

  AND LORENE IS beside herself. As she tells Odell one night after supper, while they are cleaning up the dishes, it makes her feel really good to know how things will work out for the best in the end. She takes her rose-flowered plates up out of the soapy water one by one and runs hot water over them, putting them in a wet straight glistening line in the plastic drainer, and it seems to her right then that her whole life has gotten to be that way, as clean and orderly as those hot round dripping plates.

  “Things work out for the best in the end, huh?” Odell says, goosing her, but she slaps his hand away from her hip.

  “No, I mean it,” she says. “I’m serious.” She wrings out the dishrag and lets the water out of the sink.

  “I’m serious, too.” Odell is behind her, reaching around her waist to grab at a breast. Odell smells like onions and Marlboros and work, a hot male smell, breathing right into her neck.

  “Honey,” she says, stepping sideways away from his hand to wipe off the counter top, “listen to me a minute. You know what I mean. You know how it used to be around here. I guess you get the bitter with the sweet, as they say, but that’s all we got for a while and you know it. And now look! I never thought Sykes would amount to a hill of beans, for instance. Nobody else thought he would, either. And I never could tell what Crystal was going to do next. You know how she changed. But I guess it’s all over with now. That’s what I’m saying. I used to tell myself, ‘Now, Lorene, all you can do is keep on doing,’ and that was true, of course, but you still don’t know how it’ll all come out. You never know a thing about something when you’re in the middle of it, and that’s the Lord’s truth. But just look at Crystal now!” Lorene takes off her apron and rubs cold cream into her hands. “Look at Sykes!”

 

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