“All right,” Owen said, starting back toward his study. “All right, have it your way. Stay indoors, laze around the house all your life, let your brains rot. Turn into a goddam woman if you want to.”
“That’s enough, Owen,” she said, getting to her feet. “I won’t have you picking on him this way.”
“Can’t he stand up for himself? Do you have to answer for him?”
“Owen, please. He’s only a child.”
“And you’re going to make damn sure he stays that way, aren’t you?” He went into the study and shut the door behind him.
Bobby looked hurt and embarrassed. “You shouldn’t have said anything,” he told her, keeping his voice down. “That only made it worse.”
“But he has no right to talk to you that way. I won’t allow it.”
“Don’t pay any attention to him,” Bobby said. “Just ignore him when he gets like that.”
“All right, dear; I’m sorry. Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. Outside, I guess.”
She watched him leave; then from the window she watched him walking aimlessly around the yard, hands in his pockets, kicking up little puffs of dust.
When she heard the car in the driveway – Eva coming home – she went into her room and shut the door. She decided not to go out to the front porch for drinks: if they wanted her, they could come and get her. She decided further that she would say “No, thank you,” when Eva stood outside the door and asked her to join them, and if Eva said, “What’s the matter?” she would try to explain, as calmly as possible, that Owen had behaved very badly and she wanted nothing more to do with him for one day. “And it hasn’t been only today,” she would say. “He’s been absolutely impossible ever since we came here. Either he will start acting like a gentleman or we’re leaving. I mean that.”
She sat in her room pretending to read, silently rehearsing her speech as she listened to Eva’s bustling around the kitchen, and she waited. But in the end it wasn’t Eva who came to the door: it was Bobby.
“Aren’t you coming out to the porch?” he asked.
“No, I’m not, dear. I’d rather stay here.”
“Why?”
“Never mind why.”
She would have stayed there through dinner, too, except that the sounds Eva made in the kitchen made her hungry. When she did go in to the table she was careful to meet no one’s eyes. She looked soberly at her plate and said nothing, determined to speak only when spoken to.
“Alice?” Eva said after a while. “Are you all right?”
She said she was fine.
“I think this heat is making us all a little – out of sorts,” Eva said, and that was the end of the dinner conversation.
When he had finished eating, long before the others were finished, Owen pushed his plate away and scraped back his chair. “I’m going out for a drive,” he said, and then he turned to Bobby. “Want to come along?”
Bobby said “Okay” and Alice said “Oh, no!” at the same moment, which caused them all to turn and look at her.
“Please,” she said to Bobby. “I don’t want you to go.”
But Bobby had already left his chair and started toward Owen? and Owen was glaring at her, “What’s the matter?” he demanded. “You scared to let him out of your sight?”
“Of course not; that’s not the point. I just—”
“It’s okay,” Bobby said.
“Do him good to get away from the house for a while,” Owen said, and he turned to Bobby again as he moved toward the door. “You coming, or not?”
Bobby followed him, glancing back once at his mother with an imploring look, as if to say Please don’t interfere with this.
There was nothing for Alice to do but watch them go. “Well, do be careful,” she called, and they were gone. She heard the car doors slam, heard the car start with a roar and go moaning down the driveway. “Oh dear,” she said. “Do you suppose they’ll be all right?”
“Of course. What do you mean?”
“Well, but where are they going? He didn’t even say where they were going.”
“I don’t know. Probably just for a drive in the country. Or perhaps they’ll visit friends. Owen has a number of friends around town. I certainly wouldn’t worry about it, if I were you.”
“Well, but isn’t he – do you think he’ll be able to drive safely?”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, you know what I mean. He has been drinking heavily.”
Eva stood up and began stacking the plates. “He’s perfectly capable of driving a car,” she said. “I think you’re being very foolish.” And she carried the plates into the kitchen. When she came back a moment later her face was set in a look that Alice remembered from earliest childhood: a look that meant trouble. It meant that Eva would stand for no more nonsense and was about to lose her temper, and it had the same effect on Alice that it had always had when they were children: it goaded her to press her advantage.
“He’s drunk and you know it,” she said, standing up for emphasis. “He’s drunk every night, and even when he’s not drunk he’s hateful – he’s crude and stupid and hateful.”
“He’s my husband. I’ll not allow you to speak that way.” And it was just like Eva to say “I’ll not” at such a time instead of “I won’t.”
“He’s hateful. I hate him, I’ve never hated anyone so much in my life, and I’m glad I said it. I’m glad I said it. I hate him! I hate him!”
“Alice! I want you to stop this at once. You’re hysterical. I’ll not listen to another—”
“Ha! Hysterical! I’ll show you how hysterical I am. If that boy isn’t back here in half an hour I’ll call the police!”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort. I’ll not listen to another word of this.”
“Yes you will listen. I’ve kept quiet long enough. Your husband’s a beast, do you hear me? He’s a beast. Oh, I know you only married him because he was all you could get, but you’re a fool! He’s a beast!”
That had the sound of a good exit line, so she went quickly into her room and slammed the door. But Eva followed right behind her, wrenched open the door, and stood facing her, quivering with anger.
“You’ll regret this, Alice,” she said. “I’ll never forgive you for this.”
And the quarrel went on and on. It drove them back into the living room, then into the kitchen, and back into the living room again.
“… and to think,” Eva said, “to think what we’ve done for you. To think what Owen and I have sacrificed to give you a home!”
“I hate your home! I promise you I’ll leave your home tomorrow! I won’t spend another day in this wretched place!”
In the end they collapsed crying in their separate rooms, and the house settled into silence as they both lay listening for the car in the driveway.
It was almost midnight before they heard it. The sound of it made Alice sit up, leave her bed, and stand close to her closed door, listening still more intently. With a sense of revulsion she heard Owen’s heavy tread pass the door, and then she heard Bobby. She opened the door a crack and called to him in a whisper.
“What’s the matter?” he said.
“Nothing. Just come in here a minute, please.” When he was inside the room she drew him close in a tight hug. Then she released him and said, “Where did he take you?”
“No place special. First we went to a bar down the road where there were some men he knows, and he talked to them for a while. Then we went to another bar and played the pinball machine.”
“Is he drunk?”
“Not especially. I mean – you know – no more than usual.”
“Well, at least you’re back. Listen, dear: I want you to sleep in here tonight.”
“In here? Why?”
“Can you bring your cot in?”
“It’s too big. Why do you want me to—”
“All right, never mind. You take my bed and I’ll sleep on the floor.”
&
nbsp; “But why? What’s the matter?”
“Just do as I say. I don’t want you sleeping out there tonight, that’s all. I want you close to me.”
She finally persuaded him to use her bed, and when he was in it she stretched out on the carpet with a blanket. The hardness of the floor suited her bitter mood; but some time before dawn she woke up, chilled and cramped, and got into bed with Bobby. He was so warm, and the bed so soft, that she started to cry again as she pressed against him. He woke up and stiffened in her arms.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, dear. I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.”
She awoke again with the hot sun of morning in her face, and Bobby was now up and dressed and sitting in a chair, looking at her.
“What time is it, dear?”
“I don’t know; a little after eight. What’s the matter, anyway?”
She sat up, feeling gritty from having slept in her clothes. “Eva and I had a dreadful quarrel last night,” she said. “I don’t want to see her. Let’s just wait here till she goes to work.”
“Well, but she’s not going to work. It’s Saturday.”
“Oh dear; that’s right. Let’s stay here anyway, though. You don’t mind, do you?”
“What about breakfast?”
“I’m not hungry. I’ll go out and get you something to eat, though, when I’m sure they’re out of the kitchen.”
“You mean you want to just stay in here? What’s the point of that?”
“Dear, please don’t torment me with questions. Just please do as I say.”
“Okay.” He sat looking uncomfortable, and after a moment he said, “What was the quarrel about, anyway?”
“I don’t know; everything.” She went to the dresser mirror and began trying to do something about her hair. “Are they in the kitchen now?” she asked. “Can you tell?”
“I don’t think so. I think they’re out in the living room. I’m not sure.”
“Let’s wait till we’re sure. You can go to the bathroom if you want.”
“I already did.”
One of the doors in her room opened onto the bathroom, which in turn led to the hall near the kitchen. She tiptoed through, spent a long time listening at the hall door, and finally risked it outside. There was nobody in the hall and nobody in the kitchen. On the stove she found a pot of coffee that was still warm, and she poured herself a cup with trembling hands; then she found a box of dry cereal, a bowl, and some milk, which she carried back through the bathroom for Bobby. He ate hungrily, and when he was finished he said, “Are we going to hide in here all day, or what?”
“We’re not ‘hiding,’ dear; we’re simply keeping to ourselves. We’re minding our own business.”
Some time later they heard Eva’s footsteps approaching outside the door, which caused Alice to stiffen. The door couldn’t be locked: Eva could walk right in if she wanted to. But she stopped outside and knocked. Then they heard her voice, sounding stern but shy, as if she had forgotten nothing of last night but was tentatively willing to make amends. “Alice? Are you all right?”
Alice said nothing and placed a forefinger over her lips so that Bobby would keep quiet too.
“Is Bobby in there with you?”
Neither of them answered, and the footsteps went away; but soon they were back.
“Alice,” Eva called. “Owen is driving into town to do some shopping. Is there anything you’d like him to bring you?”
They remained silent, though Bobby smiled in embarrassment, showing he thought it was silly. Then from the window they saw Owen go out to the car and drive away. Alice felt relieved to have him out of the house; she almost felt she could deal with Eva as long as he was gone.
But she was wholly unprepared for what happened next. The door swung open and Eva came walking in, carrying a tray that held three tall glasses of milk with ice cubes in them. “This has gone on long enough,” she said. “Why don’t we all have something cool to drink.” She set the tray down on a table and confronted Alice with her hands on her hips, looking wounded and patient and ready to accept apologies.
Alice had never seen anyone put ice cubes in milk – she knew Eva must really have been rattled to do a thing like that – and she was infuriated by the look on Eva’s face. “Please leave us alone,” she said. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“Oh, Alice. Don’t you think you’re being childish?”
“No.”
“Well, you are. You said a great many cruel things last night. It’s not easy to forget those things. It’s not easy to forgive you, and I—”
“I’m not asking your forgiveness. I meant everything I said and I’ll say it again. Your husband is a dirty, filthy—”
“Alice! As long as you’re a guest in my house I—”
“Ha! A guest in your house! I’m a prisoner in your house!”
“You’re nothing of the sort. You’re perfectly free to leave at any time.”
“Then I’ll leave today. I’ll leave right now.” And she swept dramatically around to face Bobby. “Go and pack your things,” she said. “Quickly.”
“Alice, try to control yourself. You know you don’t mean that.”
“I most certainly do mean it.” She pulled one of her suitcases from under the bed, opened it, and began stuffing clothes into it with spastic haste. “Go on, Bobby,” she said, and he went.
“Alice, this is ridiculous. Where will you go?”
“I don’t know. Please get out of my way.” She swept an armload of dresses from the closet, pressed them into the suitcase, and snapped it shut. Then she started packing her other two bags, and not until all three were packed did she begin to realize the weight of what she was doing: now they would have to leave. Where in the world would they go? But her passion carried her along on its own momentum. She took two of the suitcases into the living room and Bobby followed her with the other two, wearing a bashful smile. He apparently didn’t believe what was happening, and neither did Eva.
“Come back here at once, Alice,” she said. “You’re making a complete fool of yourself.”
“I’ll never come back.” Alice took a new grip on the suitcase handles and pushed out through the screen door. On the porch she turned back, aware that this was the moment for some crushing last word, but she couldn’t think of anything to say. She licked her dry lips. “And I hope I’ll never see you again,” she said. Then she crossed the porch, went down the front steps, and out into the hot sunshine. She looked back only once to make sure Bobby was coming; he hurried to catch up with her and they walked side by side down the driveway.
“Where’re we going, anyway?” he asked.
“Never mind. Just come along.”
“You mean you don’t even know where we’re going?”
“We’re going into town. It’s only five miles. We’ll go to a hotel.” How they would ever get out of the hotel was a problem she would deal with later.
They had gone only a few steps up the highway when she had to stop and rest. Her hands were sore from the suitcase handles and she was soaked with sweat. “Let’s rest a minute, Bobby,” she said.
Not far ahead of them now was the beginning of the place where the highway was under repair. The noise of the jackhammers was loud and persistent, and the cloud of white dust looked impenetrable. They would have to walk through it.
“Why don’t you give me the big bags,” Bobby said, “and you take the little ones.”
“No, that’s all right. I’ll manage.”
“Come on, give them to me,” he insisted. “I’m stronger than you.”
And she let him take them, surprised and pleased by what he’d said. He was stronger than she, and as they lifted the suitcases and trudged on into the heat she felt comforted and protected. She was no longer a woman alone with a little boy. He was someone she could depend on, someone who would take command in a crisis like this.
Her main difficulty now was that she was wearing high heels: they wobbled and
threatened to turn her ankles with every step. And her only other pair of shoes, riding in one of the suitcases, had heels that were just as high.
“I’m sorry I have to go so slowly, dear,” she said. “It’s these shoes, you see. I can’t—”
“That’s okay,” he said with his new authority. “You’re doing fine.”
When they reached the excavation they were enveloped at once in the white dust. “I’m going to have to stop again, dear,” she said, but he couldn’t hear her over the noise of the jackhammers. “Bobby, wait,” she called, almost in tears, and he turned back, stopped, and put his own suitcases down.
“We’d get there a lot sooner if we didn’t stop so often,” he said.
“I know, dear, but I can’t keep up with you. I’ve got to rest a minute.”
“Okay.”
“Isn’t this dust dreadful?”
“What?”
“This dust I can hardly breathe.”
“It’s caliche.”
“What?”
“The dust. It’s called caliche; sort of like chalk. It’s all through this area, just under the topsoil. Uncle Owen told me.”
“Oh.”
“Let’s pretend it isn’t happening,” he said.
“What?”
“I said let’s pretend it isn’t happening. Let’s pretend it’s real cold and we have to walk as fast as we can to keep warm.”
“I’m not very good at pretending, I’m afraid.”
“Come on. And we’ll pretend the dust is a big snowstorm, a blizzard, and we have to get through.”
She was about to say, “Oh, Bobby, please,” in irritation, but when she looked into his earnest, sweating face she was won over. What a cheerful, heartening companion he was, and what a good sport! If he could pretend it wasn’t happening, so could she. “All right, dear,” she said.
“Br-r-r!” He shuddered, hugging himself. “We better not stay here any longer or we’ll freeze to death. Let’s get going.”
A Special Providence Page 20