Manhattan Love Song

by Cornell Woolrich

  My face, I guess, was all gray by this time. “Bernice, darling, you don’t know what you’re saying. Don’t, will you! Don’t go back on me! Always, always, it’s because you don’t trust — won’t trust! Haven’t you even got confidence in the one that loves you? Won’t you give human nature the benefit of the doubt one time out of a hundred? Can’t you see, as a woman, that you’ve got me where you want me, that I’ll eat out of your hand until the end of my days? What more do you want? Have I stopped for a minute and thought that you might fall for some good-looking guy when we’re on the Coast, and leave me flat if he happened to be able to offer you more than I could? And isn’t that much more likely to happen? Oh, Bernice, if I can trust you,” I groaned, “with the odds against you the way they are, why can’t you trust me just a little, honey?”

  “No soap,” she said inflexibly. “I’d rather hurt you now than get hurt myself later. Hold yourself together a minute; just stop and look at it my way. I’m supposed to throw over everything I have, everything I’ll ever have as far as I know, and make tracks with you. Which isn’t a mere nothing in itself, no matter which way you look at it. But wait! there’s more to it. If I do that, I’m quitting a game that can’t be quit. Do you understand, can’t be quit. Do you want to know what that means? That I’m marked. No explanations accepted. The day I walk out of here with my arm on yours and my satchel in my hand, there’s no turning back. I can’t show my face anywhere in the east from that day on. I’d be marked, I tell you. And if you don’t happen to know what I mean by that — I mean out of bounds, marked for the ax.” She let that sink in for a minute, though as usual I thought she was exaggerating to impress me, and was too wrought-up myself to pay much attention anyway. “And what do I do it for?” she went on. “What do I get for it? What’s the percentage? So that a year from now, maybe, I can wait on tables in a West Coast cafeteria? Or show Filipinos how to fox-trot? I guess not!”

  “So you think I’d do that to you,” I said miserably. “So you think that’s the kind I am.”

  “I’m not sure you would,” she said, “but I’m not sure enough you wouldn’t, either, to make the thing a safe bet as far as I’m concerned. No, Maxine was a godsend, she snapped me out of it in time. I’ll wait a little while longer before I cut my own throat.”

  “So you’re dead sure that we’re through?” I answered.

  “Have I said a word about our being through?” she corrected. “Do I act as though I was ready to give you up? No— what’s through and out is this idea of our going away together. That’s off the list; I’m playing safe, that’s all. But that doesn’t change the way I feel toward you. It couldn’t. The only thing is we’ll have to go on the way we are, I can’t see any other way. I’ll stick around here and take my orders from the phone, the way I—”

  “Oh, yeah?” I said furiously. “You dope things out pretty much to suit yourself, don’t you! This is out, and that goes, and heigh-ho the merry-o! Well, you’ve got another guess coming. It’s all or nothing, now. I can’t go on like this, sneaking in your back door all the time, suffering the tortures of hell when I’m not with you. I lost my job this week on account of you. Either we clear out together like we planned to all along — or else we’re through once and for all; it’s good-bye, starting in right now! Is that plain enough?”

  I leaped up from the chaise longue with a brave show of willpower and stood looking at her. “You heard me! Which is it going to be — yes or no?”

  She tried to put a restraining hand on my coat sleeve. “Now, wait a minute! Don’t get all hot and both—”

  “Wait, nothing!” I exclaimed, brushing her hand off. “You’ve kibitzed around with me long enough. You’re driving me mad! Are you coming away with me like we planned — or aren’t you? That’s all I want to know, that’s all you’ve got to tell me.”

  “You know where I stand,” she said surlily, breathing on her nails and brushing them against her palm. “Do I have to repeat? I just got through telling you!”

  “Good-bye,” I said bitterly. “I’m through. I’ll get you out of my head if I have to kill myself!”

  “You’ll come back,” she said, still polishing her nails and not even looking up. “This isn’t the first time you’ve pulled this stunt on me—”

  I got to the door, the room door; I even got it open. Oh, I could have gone on down to the street. I could have gone quite away and stayed away a day or two whole days, like when I found the money in her handbag. But in the end, didn’t it all amount to the same thing — the door, the street, a day, two days, and then I’d be back again. Sure I’d be back. Or I wasn’t Wade, and she wasn’t Bernice.

  So I shortened the whole process by turning back right then and there, right where I stood, at the door of her room, and dropping back on the chaise longue that was still warm from me just now, turned my back to her and sobbed hotly into my cupped hands.

  Having gained her point, she could afford to be magnanimous, was over beside me then in no time at all, down on her knees with her arms knotted around my neck, drawing my face down to hers again and again. “Men don’t cry,” she remonstrated gently.

  “It’s all right, Bernice,” I said after awhile, “don’t feel sorry for me. It’ll be all the same to me from now on; I’ve just gone down for the third time.”

  “Wade, I love you so. And New York isn’t the worst town there is. We’ll have such swell times together! Let’s let the rest of it go hang. We’ll see each other all the time. And by each living under separate roofs, we’ll be that much better off — we won’t have a chance to get tired of each other like we would the other way—”

  “You’re right,” I told her submissively. “You’re always right. I told you once you were always right—”

  She left me only to go to the door and open it, and then was back again beside me. “Tenacity!” And when the mahogany face had poked its way in, “Fix us up a couple of long ones. Long and strong. We’re having a celebration in here.”

  And while the trip westward, and the bungalow on some sunny Los Angeles street, and the Chevrolet, and all the rest of it faded slowly away like the sun was fading outside the windows, she lighted my cigarettes for me between her lips, had the radio going softly, kept passing her hand over my face as though she wanted to learn its outline by heart, and made it seem to me that I had given up nothing and gained everything in having her near me like this, having her love me like this. What more could any one want?

  Tenacity brought in two more “long ones” without being told to, around four o’clock. She looked at us, shook her head sympathetically, and carried the empty glasses out with her.

  Bernice tasted hers, and blew her breath out as though to cool her mouth. “They’re strong, all right. It’s funny, I can never trust her to do my mixing for me.”

  “But you told her to make ’em strong,” I reminded her.

  “Yes, that was to begin with, but you should taper them off — she ought to know that by now. I guess the reason I notice it so,” she said, putting her glass down, “is, these are the first drinks I’ve had all week. And today’s Friday.”

  “We had some wine together when I was up here Wednesday,” I recalled.

  “Yes, but not hard drinks. I haven’t had a hard one since the night we were up at Jerry’s and Marion’s. Let’s see, that was last Saturday. That’ll be a week ago tomorrow.”

  “Oh, by the way,” I said. “I forgot to tell you. I ran into Marion yesterday, outside of Gray’s Drugstore.”

  “Jerry with her?” she asked idly.

  “No, she was alone; she was going to a show, I think. She stopped a minute and spoke to me. I couldn’t remember for the life of me who she—”

  She picked up her glass again and went ahead with it where she had left off, remarking, “She’s the sweetheart of one of the big shots here in town. She’s in pretty thick with — well, all sorts of people that I know.”

  “All I know is, she’s completely sold out on some guy in
Detroit called Sonny Boy,” I laughed.

  “Not so loud,” she warned me, half-jokingly, but with a glance at the door. “It isn’t good to know him anymore. One time he was a big shot here himself. Then he ran away to Detroit. Now he’s on the outs with the New York crowd—”

  “And jealous as all hell,” I went on, contemplating the contents of my glass. “Always asking me if you’re getting letters from him in Detroit.” I took a long drink. “I didn’t know how else to get rid of her,” I resumed, “so I kidded the life out of her, told her sure, two and three times a week regularly. She got so sore, she couldn’t see straight, didn’t even go to her show—”

  Over the rim of my glass I happened to raise my eyes to her; I couldn’t understand, lowered it out of the way in a hurry. The lap and the whole front of the pale-violet satin kimono she had on went deep purple all at once with the puddle of liquor soaking into it. The glass glanced off her kneecap, bounced clear of the chaise longue, and sang out from the floor, miraculously unbroken. But it was her face, her face! A mask of white fright pulled taut from ear to ear, where her prettiness had been only a second ago; then slowly relaxing again, like elastic, into a more recognizable semblance of her. Her eyes had been unbearable for a minute, the pupils rolling insanely upward and disappearing under the upper lids. They came down again and stared hauntedly out at me. And her voice, when she found it, was furry as with an inner strangulation.

  “You’ve signed my death warrant!” she rasped.

  “Bernice!” I cried in alarm. “What is it? Here, swallow some of this—!” But as I passed my glass toward her, she shot up from where she had been sitting and ran halfway across the room toward the door, then stopped abruptly and looked dazedly all about her, as though not knowing which way to turn. I was terribly frightened myself by now, not knowing what to make of it, thinking she must have either gone temporarily insane or else was undergoing a sudden spasm of violent physical illness. It was awful to see the way she clutched herself through the satin kimono, now on the arms, now under the ribs, as though at a loss what to do next. I caught her in my arms where she stood finally — for she brought to mind a pathetic little trapped animal that wouldn’t let any one near it — and forced almost all the liquor I had left in my glass down her throat. She gagged and retched on it, but it brought her back a little, brought a smarting moisture to her eyes and dimmed that berserk look they’d had in them for a minute or two.

  “God, what a fright you gave me!” I said, clinging to her.

  “Oh,” she kept moaning, “they’ll get me for it! They’ll get me for it! My time is up, all right! That was the one thing you shouldn’t have said—”

  “Wait a minute,” I said, “until I call Tenacity — maybe she can help me with you.”

  “No, no, no!” she exclaimed, “don’t let her in here—!”

  I led her back to the chaise longue and seated her on it by main force. She clung with one hand to my sleeve, as though afraid I would leave her, and with the other kept pounding me lightly on the chest, distractedly emphasizing what she was saying. “Oh, what am I going to do, Wade? Help me! What am I going to do? They’re going to get me as sure as you’re born! She was the last one you should have told that to — my God, if it had only been Jerry, any one else — but Marion! She’s in thick with the big muck-a-mucks; it’ll get back to them in no time—!”

  “But Bernice, darling!” I pleaded. “I was only kidding her along. If it’s not true, what can she do to you, what are you so afraid about—”

  “What can’t she do!” she gasped. “One word from her, and — she’s the sweetie of — oh, don’t you understand? What chance have I got! She won’t come up here and try to pull my hair — if that was all there would be to it, I’d gladly lie down flat on my back and let her kick my teeth out. She’ll let one word drop where it’ll do the most good and — do you think they’ll let me explain? I know too much; they won’t take any chances!”

  I tried to soothe her by stroking the backs of her hands; she drew them away from me suddenly and cried: “I wish I’d never known you! After I’ve watched my step so carefully all these years, you have to come along — and get me in a spot!”

  “It’s as much your fault as mine,” I defended myself. “If I had known what was what, if I had known who I was talking to there on the street! I sat in this very room with you only the day before yesterday,” I reminded her, “and told you it might be a whole lot better if you let me in on what you were up against, gave me some idea. But no, you couldn’t trust me, had to keep everything dark — well, it sure worked out beautiful your way. Maybe next time you’ll have a little more confi—”

  “Next time?” she cried, jumping up again. “There isn’t any next time in this for me, don’t you understand! That’s why I’m so cokey over the whole thing! Wait!” she said, running her hand along the side of her face and on up through her hair. “I’ve just got one chance left! If she hasn’t spoken to anybody yet, maybe I can square myself with her. But if she’s already given ’way on me, then there’s nothing left to be done. I’m washed out! Tenacity!” she shouted wildly, “Tenacity! Come in here, damn it!”

  Tenacity appeared in the doorway with remarkable abruptness, in fact almost instantaneously, as though she had been listening to the whole tantrum from beginning to end. The scared look on her face was a perfect match for ours.

  “Quick! Get Jerry’s place on the phone for me — the number’s on the pad there. I’m too excited to find it! I want to talk to Marion Scalero. Nobody else.”

  “I don’t have to find it. I know the number of Jerry’s place,” the awestricken Tenacity said.

  “Well, get it for me; don’t stand there, you fool!” Bernice barked.

  Tenacity collapsed onto the telephone bench as though she had had a heart attack and picked up the instrument with trembling fingers. “Marion Scalero, understand!” Bernice reminded her, and to me, wringing her hands in an agony of impatience, “She can have anything I’ve got! Oh, if I can only get around her in some way—!”

  Tenacity having stated her number, we both held our breaths, listening and waiting. Bernice edged closer to her, ready to take the instrument from her.

  Suddenly Tenacity put the phone down and turned to Bernice. “Their number’s been disconnected.”

  She stamped her foot. “Don’t tell me that! It can’t be! We were up there only Saturday—”

  “That’s what the chief operator just said to me,” Tenacity insisted.

  “They may have moved out since then,” I observed.

  “Look in the directory under apartment houses,” she instructed Tenacity exasperatedly, “and call up the building they live in; maybe they can tell us what’s happened. Only hurry it up, will you, hurry it up!”

  I strolled over to the window meanwhile and started to look idly down into the street. “Keep away from there!” Bernice said to me sharply. “Don’t show yourself at the window, you never can tell who’s watching!”

  I withdrew leisurely, a little bored with all this melodrama, and went into the serving pantry to get some more gin and vermouth, which it seemed to me she needed more than she ever had in all the time I had known her. I came back, holding one in each hand, just in time to hear Tenacity saying, “They were dispossessed Monday morning on account of all the noise up there Sa’day night; they didn’t leave any address with the superintendent.”

  Bernice literally snorted with dismay and began to screw up her face once more into that horrible mask of panic. “Here, try this.” I quickly forestalled her, afraid she was going to lose her head again. She drank, sketchily and drippingly, and brushing her hand quickly past her lips, said: “Wade, there’s only one thing left for me to do now—” And giving me a meaning glance, she turned to look at Tenacity. “Wait a minute, don’t say anything!” she murmured.

  Tenacity was still sitting at the telephone, staring from one to the other of us with her thick lips dropping open.

  “You can go ho
me now, you’re through for today,” Bernice said to her briskly. And throwing open a drawer, she took out some money and put it in her hand without counting it.

  Dismay burst its way through Tenacity’s opaque features. “Ain’t you gonna need me no more?” she piped thinly.

  “Oh, sure, you come back about nine in the morning, like you always do,” Bernice assured her hypocritically. “This is just so I won’t forget what I owe you. Now hurry up and go, will you!” And she actually went to the door and held it open for her, impatience expressed in every line of her body.

  Tenacity got to her feet, moved across the room toward the door, and through it — and was instantly effaced by the shutting of the panel, which Bernice effected almost before her skirts were out of the way. “Now!” she exhaled, leaning her back against the door for a moment as though to gather fresh energy from it.

  “What’s the one thing you said was left for you to do?” I asked eagerly, going to her. I already knew, though — something told me.

  “I’m going with you, if you’ll still let me,” she said.

  “My baby!” I cried gleefully.

  She caught at my shoulders and shook me anxiously. “Can you do it, though? Can you make it? It’s got to be right away — not next week, not even tomorrow. I’ve got to get out of here by tonight, I tell you!”

  “It’s a cinch, nothing to it!” I said elatedly. “There’s a train for Chicago at about nine-thirty, and we can take the Santa Fé from there tomorrow morning—”

  She began to pull dresses out of a closet, then stopped to throw off her violet satin kimono right before me. “No time for modesty right now!” she gasped. “When was it you say you saw her — yesterday?”

  “About one in the afternoon.”

  “Well, the damage’s been done long ago — there’s not a minute to lose — if I want to see thirty!

  “Wade, do something, will you!” she cried, in the act of twisting a dress that had just dropped over her shoulders this way and that around her waist. “Don’t stand there watching me — do you think I’m kidding you, or what?”