Mrs Caliban and other stories

by Rachel Ingalls

  She looked into the long mirror by her side and saw Russell’s head reflected between the green leaves of rubber plants. She turned.

  ‘To eat?’

  ‘To look at while I feed them.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Sure. What are they, in a tank?’

  ‘In an aquarium. I’m taking care of it while the school’s on vacation.’

  He drove her out to the deserted school. A light snow was falling. Indoors the radiators clanked. She hadn’t been prepared for the different scale of the furniture, and was astonished at how small the desks and chairs were.

  He walked her through into a hallway that smelled of sweeping compound. Paintings and crayon drawings, a thumbtack in each corner, covered the walls. Some of the pictures were hung fairly high up, but most had been set at the eye-level of a small child.

  They entered another, larger classroom where, at the far end, an immense aquarium stood in an alcove that had evidently been made for it. The water bubbled gently, the fish propelled themselves slowly around and around. It was the biggest fish tank she’d seen outside a bar.

  ‘Some interesting specimens,’ he told her. She watched him shake the food into the water and check some gauges at the back. He wrote in a notebook, returned it to his pocket and moved his reading glasses up to the top of his head. Then he came and stood beside her, telling her the names of the various fish.

  She put her fingers against the glass and pointed. ‘That one?’ she asked. ‘And that one there?’

  He put his arm around her. He kissed her neck. He slid his hand up under her sweater. She was about to push him away when she remembered Carter.

  She let him keep going. He asked her in a whisper if it was all right. He didn’t seem to her at all like someone who could ever have killed anybody. He seemed much more like a man who’d lost his wife and was dying of loneliness. She felt sorry for him. She said yes, it would be all right. He put their coats on the floor and flicked out the lights. She took off his glasses, which he’d forgotten he still had on.

  On the drive back, he said something about not wanting to upset anything between her and Carter.

  ‘Don’t worry about that,’ she told him. ‘There hasn’t been anything between us for a long time.’

  ‘I thought you and he were together.’

  ‘No. I think he was feeling kind of low after his girlfriend left him. He just invited me along for company.’

  She asked him to tell her about himself. He talked about marine biology and the study of ancient oceans from the fossil evidence.

  He wanted to know about her, so she told him more or less the truth, leaving Carter out of it. Then she laughed. She said, ‘I can’t get over all those tiny little chairs and tables. It looked like pixieland in there. But it was nice.’ She hugged him. She felt that he was a friend now; there was no question that he liked her. He liked her a lot. It wasn’t like the beginning with Carter, where she kept feeling afterwards that in spite of everything, maybe she hadn’t quite made the grade.

  ‘Once,’ he told her, ‘when they were repainting in the town hall, everyone had to use the school for meetings. All the stuffed shirts and obstructionists had to sit at the kiddies’ desks. They had their knees jammed inside and their thighs bulging over the seats, and there they were, muttering and scowling and trying to find someplace to rest their elbows. God, they looked silly. And still taking themselves so seriously, and the great importance of their jobs. That was wonderful. A friend of mine on the local paper even got some pictures, but they wouldn’t let him print them.’

  Before he stopped the car, he asked her if she knew how to get to his room.

  *

  At the end of the week Carter took her back to town. It was supposed to be for a few days only; he’d return to his apartment in Chicago and let Ross make plans to start visiting her. Russell had said he wanted to see her before the geological conference he was to attend at the beginning of the month.

  She still didn’t understand what was going on. Sometimes Carter made her so confused that she stopped listening to what he was saying. She got ready to move out of town; that didn’t take long. She had few possessions other than the clothes he’d bought for her. Now that she wasn’t working and had the time, she couldn’t fill up her days. She knew that she ought to think and plan ahead. But she just sat; or, sometimes, she went for walks.

  She was out walking one day and started to feel so tired that she wanted to sit down. She was in the middle of town: not a bench anywhere in sight. Her head began to hurt. She saw a church in the distance and made for it.

  She slumped into a pew at the back and kept her head down. For a while she thought she was the only visitor to the building, but gradually she became aware that someone else had been up at the front when she’d entered. Sounds came to her of the person shuffling around, then footsteps went down the side aisle and stopped a few yards away from her. She moved her eyes slowly until she was able to see a long, black skirt and heavy shoes: some sort of man of God. She didn’t raise her head because she knew that the headache would keep getting worse unless she stayed still. It hurt so much already that she didn’t realize she might be sitting in an attitude of worship.

  She thought of how, pretty soon, she was going to have to tell Carter about the baby. She had no idea how he was going to take the news. She herself was sometimes glad about it – since it was a hold over him; yet sometimes she thought no, he’d go to other women because of it. And when she considered that possibility, she didn’t want to be pregnant.

  The pain began to disperse, and at last went altogether. She got to her feet. On her way out she saw the man, a priest or preacher, standing near the entrance. He beamed at her. He’d probably thought she was praying, instead of just trying to get rid of a headache. She went back to her room and to the telephone.

  Carter called her up. He told her to go out with Russell. He rented an apartment for her. She took the bus in to the theatre to say goodbye to all the girls and moved, promising to send the address and phone number.

  *

  Carter paced up and down in the new place he’d found for her. He said he could no longer see how this scheme was going to work out. He didn’t know what to do. He’d had a dream about Julie in which she’d stood at the edge of a mountain view and pointed at him and said he wasn’t fulfilling his promise.

  He kept her up late talking when she was falling asleep with weariness. He was impatient and abrupt and made her cry. One evening she said she couldn’t stand any more. ‘I keep doing just whatever you say,’ she told him. ‘I’m beginning to think this whole thing is nothing but lies. And you aren’t nice to me.’

  ‘I want you to ask him over for the weekend or something. His hours are pretty free outside of those meetings and research trips.’

  ‘I think I’m pregnant,’ she said.

  He was delighted. He said, ‘Ask him over and tell him.’

  ‘It’s yours. You know that already.’

  ‘But he won’t know.’

  ‘Carter, why do you want all this?’

  ‘They killed her. I keep telling you. Don’t you believe me?’

  ‘I believed you when you said you liked me, and when you told me the story about the girl next door, and I believed you about your cousin. Now what else do I have to believe?’

  ‘And that they murdered her.’

  ‘And how they pushed her off the mountainside, sure. But most of all, I believe it that you hit me in the face that time. And I think you’re planning something bad for me.’

  ‘Not for you,’ he said. ‘Nothing bad for you. For them.’

  ‘But everything’s changed now.’

  ‘It’s perfect. You get married to him, and then we’ve got him.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘He’ll trust you then.’

  ‘Carter, if he really did kill anyone, maybe I’ll be in danger.’

  ‘They killed her for the money. You’ll be fine.’

  ‘Listen: you
’re a lawyer. If I get married to him, the baby’s going to be his – isn’t that right?’

  ‘What did you want to go and get pregnant for in the first place? You aren’t usually so careless, are you?’

  ‘I guess I forgot.’

  ‘Or maybe you were following your mother’s advice and thought I’d marry you myself.’

  ‘I should never have told you that. It isn’t nice of you to use things against me. You shouldn’t do that to people you love.’

  ‘Who’s talking about love?’ he said. ‘Pick up the phone, Rhoda. I think you should give Ross a call.’

  ‘Maybe I should tell him everything.’

  ‘Don’t try it. I told you: I’m a lot better at this kind of thing than you’ll ever be. You just do what I say, and we’ll come out of it OK in the end.’

  ‘You mean, we’ll get married?’

  ‘Eventually, yes. Of course. Didn’t you know that?’

  ‘But if I’m already married to him? A divorce takes a long time.’

  ‘I’m the lawyer, remember. I can take care of that side of things.’ He dialled the number for her and pulled her to his side. As he gave her the receiver, he put his hand over her left breast and kept it there. Her heart thumped so hard that she couldn’t think straight. She laid her hand over his and turned to look at his face. He mouthed words to her. She said, ‘Hello? Could I speak to Russell Chase, please?’

  *

  When she told Russell he smiled a little, grinned, and then threw his arms around her. She burst into tears of remorse.

  He took charge. He talked and talked: about how this was the best way, in some countries it was still considered the only way to get married, and he was sure he’d be good with children; he’d always thought babies were very interesting – he’d always wished that he hadn’t been the youngest in his family.

  He made her blow her nose and told her that they’d go down to the Town Hall in the morning.

  ‘Did you want a church wedding?’

  ‘No,’ she gasped, ‘definitely not a church wedding. It wouldn’t feel right. Tell you the truth, I’ve never felt easy about church. Where I come from, it’s all Holy Rollers and pointing the finger of sin, and the whole thing makes you feel kind of horrible even before you’ve thought of doing anything wrong.’

  ‘That’s just as well. I wouldn’t want to go through it a second time, either. I don’t know if you know: I was married before. There’s so much we’ve got to catch up on, find out about each other.’

  ‘Carter told me,’ she said. ‘And she died in some kind of accident?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Yes. I’ll tell you some day. I guess everyone takes it for granted in peacetime that only old people die; but it isn’t true. Anybody can die, from any cause. It’s a shock when it happens to someone your own age, or younger.’

  He asked if there was anyone from her family she’d want to invite to the ceremony. She shook her head. She said, ‘My family isn’t – wasn’t – anything like yours. I mean, you can tell I’m not a college girl. But my father was an honest working man. He had a job with the railroad. It’s just that after my mother died, he started to drink a lot. So, finally one night he drank too much and slipped and hit his head. I don’t think they were the kind of people your mother would approve of much.’

  ‘Mother is marvellous, but she’s a terrible snob. You must have noticed. She’s a snob about everybody and everything. Just ignore it.’

  She agreed to all the wedding plans. A few hours later, however, she thought again. She phoned Carter.

  ‘Stop crying,’ he snapped at her. ‘I can’t hear half of what you’re saying. And anyway, I told you already: not on the phone. I’d better come over.’ He hung up immediately, without saying goodbye.

  She felt tired and seasick and as if she’d never be able to stop wanting to cry. When she opened the door to him, he blew smoke into her face from his cigarette and didn’t kiss her or touch her. ‘Sit down,’ he ordered. ‘What is it, Rhoda?’

  ‘I can’t go through with it.’

  ‘Doesn’t he like the idea of being a father?’

  ‘He loves it. He’s so nice. I can’t do it.’

  ‘He’s so nice, he pushed Julie out into empty space and watched her fall a hundred miles down, without batting an eyelid.’

  ‘It’s your baby. Don’t you have any feelings about it?’

  He crossed to the sofa, tossed his coat over the arm and sat down next to her. He put out what was left of his cigarette. ‘You know why I chose you,’ he said.

  ‘Sure. You knew I needed the money.’

  ‘I knew you needed the money, and you’d need me, and you’d get used to nice things fast. And you look right.’

  ‘Like her,’ she said.

  ‘Only a little. Only the same general type, and that’s how people spot resemblances: by the type. If anyone wanted to compare you both detail by detail, you actually look completely different. And you’re a lot prettier, of course.’

  ‘But you loved her.’

  ‘Not really. A little. It’s nice to have cousins – somebody who’s midway between friends and brothers or sisters. She didn’t deserve that. They did it because of the money. We were supposed to inherit it fifty-fifty, but then my grandfather … You know, sometimes people try to be so helpful when they should just keep their big mouths shut and not go telling about some escapade you thought was amusing. Old people don’t always have the same kind of humour. But she was fine; she turned up trumps – said we’d split it just the way he intended in the first will. And she was all ready to hand it over when the Chase family decided to take a skiing holiday way up in the mountains. That’s another thing: she was really good at all those winter sports. She’d never have lost her footing. They thought it was such a good choice because it would look natural: but not to me.’ He put his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, and sighed. ‘That’s the way it was. They cleaned up. Pulled their lousy bank out of the red, and everything. But I swore to get it back. I didn’t know exactly how. What I had in mind was getting some kind of evidence to threaten them with.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I don’t know any more. I was going to play it by ear. Then I fell in love with you. I didn’t mean to. I never fall in love with anybody. It’s ruined everything.’ He leaned over and laid his head in her lap. He sighed again, loudly, several times. It sounded like sobbing. She smoothed her hand over his hair.

  ‘Are we going to get married?’ she asked.

  ‘Afterwards.’

  ‘After what, Carter?’

  ‘After we get the money.’ He sat up and reached for another cigarette.

  She got to her feet. She said, ‘You couldn’t love me and let me sleep with another man. You couldn’t want me to get married to another man. Not if you loved me.’

  ‘It’s only for a little while. And you’ll still be mine. Tell him you can’t, because of the baby. Maybe you shouldn’t, anyway. It might be bad for you.’

  She started to answer and began to stammer. She couldn’t go on. He took her arm and pulled her down beside him. ‘Think of the life we’ll have afterwards,’ he said. ‘And our kids, too. All the things we can do.’

  ‘But we could be happy now. We could have a good life. Why can’t you forget about it?’

  ‘Why should I?’ he shouted. ‘Why shouldn’t I have all the good things I was meant to have?’

  ‘You can work for them. We both can.’

  ‘Not that kind of money. That kind you’ve got to inherit.’

  ‘It’s too bad you’re a man. Otherwise, you could marry for it.’

  ‘Oh, I could still do that. Couldn’t I? Everything in perfect working order.’

  ‘You wouldn’t.’

  ‘Too much time and effort. This way’s better.’

  ‘Not for me. If we love each other, we should do it the right way.’

  ‘Get married, be poor, and get to be as unhapp
y as everybody else?’

  ‘Lots of people are poor. I grew up that way. It wasn’t so bad.’

  ‘Wasn’t it?’

  ‘It was better than what you’ve got in mind. Anyway, you talk about being poor, but you’ve got a good job.’

  ‘It takes me everything I earn just to keep up the payments on my apartment. Christ, I don’t even like the place. When would we ever take a vacation, or get a house? And with a baby, too?’

  ‘But I’ll be his wife. Every night –’

  ‘Well, you did it once. More than once.’

  She’d forgotten what she had or hadn’t done, or how often. She remembered that he’d made her so miserable and angry that she’d have done anything.

  ‘That isn’t important,’ he added.

  ‘Marriage is even more. It’s more than you think. I’ve seen it happen with a lot of girls. You think it’s just like an official version of the usual thing, but it isn’t.’

  ‘It’s only the piece of paper and how people think about it. Society’s approval.’

  ‘It’s everything,’ she said. ‘It’s the whole family. It’s stronger than you’ve got any idea. And no amount of money is worth giving up happiness for.’

  ‘It’s mine,’ he insisted. ‘And I can’t take that job much longer. I’ve worked my ass off in that place. When you start out, they work you right around the clock. They work you into the ground.’

  ‘But that’s over. You told me, you’re going to be a junior partner.’

  ‘Big deal. So I can have thirty more years of working myself into the grave for them. I want to get out. All the way out, and be free.’

  ‘Being a lawyer,’ she said, ‘is a nice job, well-paid, steady.’

  ‘Nine to five every day, to the end of my days?’

  ‘I don’t understand what you think is so bad about it.’

  ‘You saw their house – that’s only part of it. And the bastards have thrown more than half of it away. Russell gets through money like a drunken sailor. Every minute we waste, there’s less of it left. Do this for me, Rhoda. Please. I promise it’ll be OK in the end.’

  ‘How can it be? How are we even going to see each other if I’m married to somebody else?’