He went down the hill to the hotel unconsciously walking with a careless easy stride, wondering at the change that had come over the heavy, strong woman. He thought of taking a walk along the river in the moonlight, the river on which old Captain Rower had drilled troops on the ice in the winter of 1837 to fight the rebels. Then he thought of having a western sandwich in the café across the road from the hotel. That big woman in her own way had been hot stuff.
In the hotel he asked to be called early so he could get the first train to the city. For a long time he lay awake in the fresh, cool bed, the figure of the woman whose ancient lineage had taken the place of a lover in her life, drifting into his thoughts and becoming important while he watched on the wall the pale moonlight that had softened the lines of her face, and wondered if it was still shining on her bed, and on her throat, and on her contented, lazily relaxed body.
1928
A REGRET FOR YOUTH
The first time Mrs. Jerry Austin’s husband went away, she cried and wrote a long letter home, but in two months’ time he came back. They had dinner and agreed never to quarrel again and he promised not to feel restless any more. The second time he left her, she didn’t bother looking for a job. She told the landlady, Mrs. Oddy, that Mr. Austin had gone traveling and was doing well. Mrs. Oddy, who had red hair, a toothy accent and a loud voice, said that whenever Mr. Oddy did any traveling she liked to keep him company, but after all, it was none of her business.
Mrs. Austin had paid a month’s rent in advance. She was friendly with Mrs. Oddy, who occasionally invited her to go motoring. Mr. and Mrs. Oddy sat in the front seat and Mrs. Austin sat in the back seat. Mr. Oddy was in the civil service, a good job, but his wife got twice as much money from her three rooming houses. Mr. Oddy always drove the car as fast as possible along Lakeshore Drive and Mrs. Oddy made a long conversation over her shoulder about a trip she had planned for Europe next year.
In the long summer evenings Mrs. Austin was sometimes lonesome. She sat on the front step till dusk talking to Mrs. Oddy, then she went upstairs to her kitchen to sit down at the window and look out through the leaves on the tree across the street to the well-kept school ground, the shadowed building and the few stars coming out over the roof of the school. Four men standing underneath a lamppost at the corner were trying to make harmony with their voices, but only one fellow had a good voice, the others were timid. She listened, leaning out of the window, hoping they would follow through with the next piece instead of laughing in the middle of it. She heard a loud laugh and the men moved farther down the street, singing softly, lazily. Disappointed, she pulled down the blind and turned on the light.
She heard the Oddys talking downstairs, Mrs. Oddy’s voice loud and sharp because her husband was a little deaf. She talked to everybody as though they were a little deaf. That was mainly the trouble with Mrs. Oddy. Mrs. Austin got out her ironing board, adjusting the electric plug in the wall. She patted the board two or three times, hesitating till she decided she didn’t feel like ironing at the moment, so she went to her bedroom and looked at herself in the large expensive mirror her mother had given her. Mrs. Austin patted her hair, the knot at the back of the neck, and the wave at the side. She had fine, fair hair. Her nose wasn’t a good nose and she was too plump for her height. She was only thirty but looked at least five years older. Her legs were short and plump but shaped nicely at the ankles. She wanted to get thin but couldn’t diet for more than five days at a time.
She combed her hair carelessly, staring in the mirror, not concentrating but simply passing time, pleasant thoughts in her head. In the next room she heard a noise and knew the young man, Mr. Jarvis, would be going out soon. She hoped he would speak to her as he passed the open door and maybe ask her to go for a walk. Before Jerry went away she had thought of Mr. Jarvis only occasionally, after a quarrel usually, and had been unhappy when she found herself thinking too often of him. Now that Jerry had left her she enjoyed having long imaginary conversations with the young man and was glad her ankles were slender. She was at least eight years older than he, and really didn’t know him very well but liked his small hands, and his slim body, and was sure he had a good education, and would probably wear spats in the winter. Once she had given him a cup of tea and another time had made his bed. She liked making his bed. Vaguely she thought of Jerry, missing him merely because she was used to him. The idea of his walking in the door didn’t excite her at all.
She knotted her hair again and returned to the ironing board. Mr. Jarvis, going along the hall, passed the open door and called, “How’s the little lady tonight?”
“Fine and dandy,” she said.
He passed quickly and she caught only a glimpse of him, but his shoes were shiny and his suit well pressed. She thought of going downstairs and suggesting to Mrs. Oddy that they ask the young man to go motoring with them some night, but realized that Mr. Oddy, who didn’t like Jarvis, would say something unpleasant. Oddy had often said the young fellow was too deep for him.
At the end of the month Mrs. Austin had a hard time paying the rent. The landlady suggested Jerry was indeed a peculiar traveling man, and the suggestion irritated Mrs. Austin, so she took twenty-one dollars out of the bank and for three dollars sold a small bookcase to a second-hand dealer who called at the house once a week for rags, bones, and bottles. At four o’clock in the afternoon, Mrs. Oddy, not quite so friendly now, came upstairs to examine critically Mrs. Austin’s furniture. She offered to buy the mirror because it was an awkward size and not much use to anybody. Mrs. Austin said her husband might object. Mrs. Oddy eagerly disagreed for she had been waiting a long time to talk plainly about Mr. Austin. She talked rapidly, waving her arms till Mrs. Austin said, “For heaven’s sake, Mrs. Oddy, you’ll have a hemorrhage if you don’t watch out.”
But afterward she cried, eager to leave the city and go home, but was ashamed to tell the folks Jerry had left her again. Besides, Jerry would be back soon. Stretched out on the bed, she dabbed her nose with a handkerchief and was glad she had at least been dignified with Mrs. Oddy, practically insisting the woman mind her own business. She got up and looked out of the window at the clean streets in the sunlight. She decided to go out for a walk; many people passing on the street would be company for her.
She took off her housedress and before putting on her blue serge suit with the coat that was a little tight, she stood in front of the mirror, patting her sides and hips critically, dissatisfied. She needed another corset, she thought. She had only a few dollars in the bank, and a little food in the house, but was worried mainly about having a good strong corset. She nodded vigorously at her image in the mirror, many angry words that she might have used to Mrs. Oddy coming into her head.
It was a hot day, there was bright sunlight and men were carrying their coats. She walked all the way downtown. In one of the department stores she bought a corset and arranged to have it sent C.O.D. It was five o’clock before she started to walk home. At her corner she saw Mr. Jarvis getting off the streetcar. He raised his hat, slowing down so that they could walk home together. She talked eagerly about Mrs. Oddy and about being a little lonesome. He had many splendid words he could use carelessly. Nearly all the words pleased her and made her feel happy. He was carrying a yellow slicker though it didn’t look like rain, carrying it neatly hooked under his arm close to his hip. She liked his clean fedora at a jaunty angle on his head and was sorry his mouth turned down a little at the corners.
Opposite the Women’s Christian Temperance Union they turned the corner. Some boys were playing catch on the road and over in the schoolyard girls were playing baseball.
“I don’t think I’ll go right up,” she said. “I think I’ll sit on the steps a while and watch the kids play.”
“Want some company?” He grinned at her.
“Oh, I nearly always like company.”
They sat on the stone alongside the steps. Mr. Jarvis went on talking, enjoying his own jokes and Mrs. Austin’s laughter. For
a while she tried watching the girls playing, her eyes following white and red blouses and light and dark skirts on the green grass across the road, and she listened to high-pitched shouting, but losing interest in the game, she wondered how she could keep him talking.
She saw Mr. Oddy turn the corner, a paper under his arm. He came along the street, a big man. He turned up the walk. He nodded curtly and went in the house.
“That guy’s an egg,” Mr. Jarvis said.
“A what?”
“Boiled a little too long.”
“I don’t like him much myself.”
Mr. Jarvis, getting up, held open the door, and followed her upstairs where he smiled good-naturedly and said good evening. She heard him going downstairs.
She took off her hat and coat and smiled at herself in the mirror. She fingered her hair. For the first time in months she looked closely at her hair and was glad it was so nice. She smiled and knew she wouldn’t feel lonesome for some time. She moved around the room, glancing in the mirror to catch glimpses of herself, pretending she was not alone. She ate some supper and found herself comparing Mr. Jarvis with Jerry. She didn’t think of Jerry as her husband, simply as a man she had known a long time before he had gone away.
Three days after the walk along the street with Mr. Jarvis she wrote home to tell her mother Jerry had gone away again. Her mother said in a long letter that Jerry was a good-for-nothing who would never amount to a hill of beans in this world, and enclosed was the railroad fare home, if she wanted to come. There was some gossip in the letter about people she had known, two or three girls she had known at school were married and had babies. Thinking of these girls with their babies made her feel bad. Rather than go home and meet these people she would try and get a job in one of the department stores. She put the money for the railroad fare in the bank.
She went downtown but it was hard to get a job because of summer holidays and the slack time in all the big stores. In the evening, wondering what she could sell to the second-hand dealer, she selected two chairs. She put the chairs in a corner, and standing a few feet away, her hands on her hips, made up her mind to pay rent by the week from now on. Mrs. Oddy rapped on the door and wanted to know how Mrs. Austin was getting on with the rent money.
“At the end of the month I’ll start paying by the week,” Mrs. Austin said.
“Oh, that’s up to you, of course.”
“Yes, it’s up to me.”
“Are you sure you can get it? Of course it’s none of my business.”
“I’ll get it all right.”
Mrs. Oddy looked around the room and saw the chairs in the corner. Not sure of herself, she said, “Maybe you’ll need to be selling something soon.”
“Just a thing or two. I don’t know what’s the matter with Jerry, he should be back any day now.” She knew she didn’t want Jerry to come back.
“Well, if you’re selling stuff, I’ll always take that mirror for a fair price.”
“Oh, no thanks.”
“How much do you want for it?”
“I really wouldn’t sell it.”
“No?”
“Really no.”
Mrs. Oddy, sucking her lips, said mildly, “The girls across the hall say you’re a bit cuckoo, you and the mirror, I mean.”
“Well, I certainly like the nerve of those hussies.”
“Oh, I don’t know, they say you’re looking for a husband in the mirror.”
“Very clever.”
“I thought so myself.”
The girls across the hall had seen her combing her hair a few times, Mrs. Oddy explained. Mrs. Austin, listening politely, became indignant. Mrs. Austin had intended to speak fiercely but said, “The mirror is company for me in a way.”
Mrs. Oddy laughed good-humoredly. “We do have some queer people around here, quaint, I mean. You and the uppish Mr. Jarvis. We’ll find out a thing or two about him yet and out he’ll go.”
Mr. Jarvis had been two days late paying his room rent, she explained.
“What’s the matter with him?” she asked.
“There’s something fishy.”
“How do you mean, Mrs. Oddy?”
“For one thing, where does he work?”
“I don’t know. Do you?”
“He doesn’t work, that’s the point, and he’s so superior.”
“I don’t think so.”
“And much above everyone else around here, a mighty suspicious character, I tell you.”
Mrs. Oddy went out. When the door was closed Mrs. Austin started to laugh at her, a suspicious woman, a ridiculous woman with a long tongue and a loud voice, but suddenly remembering the girls across the hall she felt unhappy. Two waitresses found her amusing; commonplace girls with huge hands who took off their coats as soon as they got into the house and sat around in their vests. She had never seen Mr. Jarvis without his jacket on. Then she worried Mr. Jarvis would go away and there were things she wanted to say to him. Before going to bed that evening she combed her hair, smiling at herself in the mirror, wondering if she would be able to find the right words so she could tell him how much she liked him and would be happy if she could please him. For the first time she looked carefully at the mirror, the handsome oak frame, the wide bevel. She laughed out loud, thinking of Mrs. Oddy and the girls across the hall.
A week later Mrs. Oddy told her that Mr. Jarvis was again late with his rent and that they had come to a definite conclusion about him, and Mr. Oddy was going to give him so many hours to get out. Mr. Oddy had two minds to go over to a police station and see if the young man had a record.
Mrs. Austin waited for Mr. Jarvis to come home at five-thirty that evening. She imagined herself talking to him till she had convinced him she really loved him and they would be happy together in another city after she divorced Jerry. She was excited, feeling timidly that there was an understanding between them so she could talk freely.
He came up the stairs about half past five. Mrs. Austin heard Mrs. Oddy follow him upstairs. Then Mr. Oddy came up slowly. Mrs. Austin opened her door. Mrs. Oddy was saying, “My husband has something to say to you, young man.”
“That’s unusual,” Mr. Jarvis said.
“I’ve got nothing much to say,” Mr. Oddy said. “You’d better clear out, that’s all. This ain’t a charity circus.”
“No.”
“You heard me.”
“All right. You mind telling me what’s eating you?”
“You got two hours to get out,” Oddy said. “I know all about you, I had you looked up.”
“You’re a stupid man, Mr. Oddy.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Oddy said.
“You’re a great ox, Mr. Oddy.”
Mrs. Austin, stepping out in the hall, looked coldly at Mrs. Oddy and put her hands on her hips.
“You just can’t help being ridiculous, Mrs. Oddy,” she said.
“Well, I like your nerve, Mrs. Austin,” the landlady said. “An abandoned woman like you,” she said. “We’ve too many people like you. The house’ll get a bad name.” Mrs. Austin said she would certainly leave the house the next day.
Alone in her room, Mrs. Austin sat down to write home. She was excited and felt she wouldn’t really go home at all. She lay awake in bed wondering if she would be able to talk to Mr. Jarvis before he went away.
At noontime the next day he rapped at her door. He smiled and said he heard her say she was going home and he would like to escort her to the train station. He was polite and good-humored. The train didn’t go till four, she said. He offered to come at three. When he had gone she phoned an express company and arranged to have her furniture shipped home. She worked hard for an hour packing and cleaning. She dressed slowly and carefully. She took many deep breaths. She put on the blue serge suit and wore a small green felt hat fitting her head snugly.
At three o’clock he called. She hurried around the room, fussing, and getting herself excited. He said not to hurry, they had lots of time to walk to the
station. They walked along the street, talking agreeably, a stout little woman in a green felt hat, and a short blue coat a little tight around the waist, trying not to feel much older than the neatly dressed fellow. She let herself think they were going away together. She didn’t think he would actually get on the train but it seemed as if he ought to. They talked about the Oddys. He said he would have a new job next week. When she saw the clock at the station tower she was uneasy because she couldn’t bring the conversation to a point where she could explain her feeling for him.
“I’m glad I met you at the Oddy’s, anyway,” she said.
“Well, it was a relief to meet you,” he said sincerely. He added that very few women knew how to mind their own business.
In the station she bought her ticket, fumbling in her purse for coins. She felt that something was slipping away from her. “He ought to speak to me,” she said to herself fiercely, then felt foolish for thinking it.
“It’s funny the Oddys had something against both of us,” she said. He laughed boyishly and helped her on the train.
“What did they have against you?” he said.
“They thought I was seeing things in the mirror. How about you?”
“I was holding something back, something up my sleeve, I guess.”
“Funny the way they linked us together,” she said shyly. “Yeah.”
“Don’t you think it was funny?”
“Yeah, you bet. The old dame was seeing things, not you.”
She stood on the last step, looking down at him and smiling awkwardly. She got confused when the train moved. “You’re a good sport,” he said, “I have an aunt just like you.”
He waved cheerfully. “Good luck, Mrs. Austin.”
“Good luck,” she repeated vaguely.
“Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.”
1928
A PREDICAMENT
Ancient Lineage and Other Stories Page 6