Guilt by Association

by Gilbert, Morris

  “Better than me.” He shrugged. “He hasn’t even started with me yet!” He asked, “You hungry?”

  “Why, I guess I am.” She tried her feet, ignored the prickling sensation, and said, “Let’s fix a midnight supper. What would you like?”

  “I’d like a spicy Mexican dinner, but I’d settle for just about anything.”

  They went to the kitchen and made something that came close to eggs Benedict. Ben fixed coffee and fried bacon, and they sat down and ate with gusto.

  As they washed the dishes, Ben said, “Think I’ll look at some of the stuff the commander has put together.”

  “I’ll show you what we’ve got.” After collecting mugs of coffee and the papers, they sat on the couch and began to go over the lists. It grew cold, and Dani shivered, so she said, “Let’s cover up with that blanket.” She tucked it around herself, and he gave her an odd look, then shrugged and did the same.

  Soon Dani began to talk about her dream, which led her to speak of how worried she’d been about her family. He listened to her fears for Rob and Allison, then as she spoke about her parents, especially about her father. “He’s too sick to do much,” she said, “but he won’t rest—not him! He’ll be at the office, killing himself!” Her hands pulled nervously at the rough blanket.

  After a moment, Ben said, “I hope it turns out right for them.”

  She lifted her head, hearing sadness in his tone. “What about your people, Ben? Won’t they be worried?”

  “No.” He shrugged. “My father died before I was born. My mother’s in a mental institution in West Virginia. She hasn’t known me for the last five years. I have one brother in prison, but I haven’t seen him in a long time. And I’ve got a sister named Ruth somewhere. The Savage family is about played out, I guess.”

  He turned to face her. Dani saw that his lips were tense, and when he spoke his voice held a terse quality. “I don’t care what the others think, but I want to tell you about Florrie.”

  “Oh, Ben—!”

  He shook his head, interrupting her almost brusquely. “It doesn’t matter much, I guess. It all happened a long time ago, and it can’t have anything to do with Maxwell Stone—but I’d like you to know.”

  Dani nodded. “If that’s what you want, Ben.”

  Staring across the room, he began, “After my mother was put in the institution, I didn’t have a place. They put my brother, Sean, and me in a foster home, but it wasn’t good. I stood it as long as I could, but I ran away after a couple of months, not long after my twelfth birthday. Sean was three years younger, so he couldn’t go. I bummed around, and three months later I’d just about had it. I knew sooner or later I’d get picked up and sent to a home, but one night I went to a circus.”

  His face was turned, but Dani saw that the memory made him smile. “I sneaked in, but got caught. They’d have chucked me out, but a family there, Tony and Anna Rudolpho, took me in.”

  “Were they performers, Ben?” she asked as he paused for a long moment.

  “Performers? They were the Flying Rudolphos! The kings and queens of the big top! It was a new life to me. I’d been pretty much pushed around up until then, and they were—kind people. They’d never had any children of their own, so they sort of adopted me.

  “I loved the circus and I made up my mind to be a performer—a flyer. They all laughed at me at first. When I told him my plan, Tony said ‘A flyer? My boy, you start training for that when you are two years old—you’re too old!’ He put me on a trampoline and said, ‘Turn a back flip—we’ve got four-year-old girls here who can do that, Ben!’ Of course he did it just to scare me off, but I’d done some diving, so I gave it a try. I bounced around to get the feel of it. When it felt right, I did a front somersault—and it was so easy that when I hit again, I did a back one. Anna and Tony stared at me. I told them I’d never even been on a trampoline, and they didn’t believe me. ‘Try a double,’ Tony said. Anna argued, but I tried it and made it—not much of one. Meanwhile Tony stared at me and said, ‘Never on a trampoline—and he does a double!’

  “Well, that was the beginning. I lived for nothing but getting up on the trapeze, and it took two years. I had a lot of natural ability, the best trainers in the world, and nothing but time. So eventually it was Hugo, my catcher, and me doing the flying—and Florrie.”

  He paused slightly, then went on quickly, as if he wanted to get it all out: “She was a little thing, all steel wire and nerves, a niece of the Rudolphos. We grew up together, along with Hugo. There were other girls, but none of them meant anything to me. It was Florrie from the beginning. She always wore white, with sequins forming a rose. Because she was only nine when I came, I never thought of her as a woman—until one day I caught her as she came out of Hugo’s hands. She looked at me without a word. But I loved her from that moment.

  “I must have been blind not to see it, but Hugo loved her, too. He was older, and for a long time, I dreamed along, thinking about how it would be when Florrie and I married. All I cared about was her and the flying. Then one day Tony took me aside and told me, ‘Everybody knows it but you, Ben. Hugo and Florrie are in love.’”

  The silence in the room was almost palpable. Dani sensed the agony that Ben covered up with his tight voice. He said, “It kept eating at me, and I tried to leave, but I didn’t. I hated Florrie—and Hugo, too—but I never showed it. Somehow I tried to think it would change, that she’d see how I loved her, and she’d leave Hugo—but that never happened.”

  He moved slightly, and Dani could see that his features were no longer steady. Slowly, controlling his voice with effort, he continued, “Everything went on. One day Hugo said, ‘Florrie and I are getting married next month, Ben. I hope you’ll come to the wedding.’ I said, ‘Sure, I’ll come.’ But something happened to me. I turned to ice inside. And that night—”

  Suddenly he broke off, and his hands were trembling as he put his face in them. His shoulders began to heave, and when Dani heard the choking sobs that gathered in his throat, she put her arms around him, saying, “Ben, what happened?”

  “We—were ready to do the last pass. Hugo would be holding Florrie; I’d do a double; and Florrie would pass under me as I came out of it. It looked dangerous, but it really wasn’t. That night, as I was at the top of my back-swing, I saw Hugo! And—and I hated him! Something happened to me—something went wrong with the timing. I came at the two of them—her in his hands, before they were ready, and—” He could not finish. Dani drew him close, as she would have drawn a hurt child, pulling his head down to her shoulder. “I hit them like a cannonball!” He cried out, “We all three fell, and Horrie and I hit the net, but Hugo—Hugo caught just the edge of it! He—he tried to stop himself, but he couldn’t. He hit the floor, and—” Ben shook his head, and his eyes were wide with shock. “He broke his back! And he died a week later!”

  Dani felt his body convulse with the force of his sobs. His tears felt warm on her own face as she held him tightly. She crooned meaningless words of comfort, and slowly his body relaxed. Finally he pulled back. His arms had been clinging to her, and now their faces were only inches apart.

  “It was an accident!” she whispered, and her eyes were enormous in the dim light. She was soft and there was something gentle in her lips as she said, “It wasn’t your fault, Ben. You can’t punish yourself forever.”

  He seemed hypnotized by her, and now that the terrible sobs had ceased, he was robbed of his natural defenses. The wall had fallen down, and now she held him in her arms, and without purposing such a thing, he slowly leaned forward and kissed her.

  Dani could not seem to move. She had never seen a strong man broken as Ben had been; and he had become more of a child than a man. She had put her arms around him to comfort him, simply drawn by the desire to help assuage the agony of grief that tore him apart.

  But Ben was not a child, and his lips had fallen on hers and lingered long enough for her to feel a stirring that caused her to pull him closer. As his arms
tightened, she sudden became aware of her own weakness. She pulled away sharply, drawing back, and at once he released her. She threw back the blanket and rose. He did the same.

  “I—I’m glad you told me about it, Ben,” she said, hesitantly.

  He was looking at her strangely, but said only, “I never told anyone else about Florrie and Hugo. I guess maybe I should have. I feel—like something’s been taken off me.”

  “I’m glad, Ben! I’m very glad.”

  “You’re pretty good with people, boss. I don’t think anyone else would have been able to get me to tell about that part of my life. But about that kiss—” He saw her drop her eyes, and then asked, “Was that part of the treatment? Or did you really mean it?”

  Dani closed her eyes. Her nerves still tingled, but she shook her head. “It was just a kiss, Ben. I—I felt so bad for you!” Then she lifted her eyes, and he saw that they were filled with some sort of apprehension—almost a fear—that he didn’t understand. “Don’t make anything of it,” she whispered.

  He nodded but still didn’t move. Finally he said, “I think it did mean something—” He gave a small nod, and turned to leave.

  But he paused long enough to say, “I think it meant something that you don’t want to talk about, but I guess you’ve got your own private ghosts, Miss Ross, just like the rest of us!”

  13

  Candi

  * * *

  Snow began to fall on Thursday morning, drifting out of an iron-gray sky—heavy, damp flakes almost as large as dimes. Gusts of cold wind drove small clusters of them through the vents. They danced wildly around each other, settling heavily to the floor.

  One fell on Dani’s cheek, and she slapped at the burning sensation with a startled motion, then glanced up to see flakes whirling like motes as they hustled through the narrow apertures. She smiled, turning to Bix and Betty, who were standing together at the serving table. “Looks as if we’ll have a white Christmas.”

  Both looked at her, then glanced upward.

  Betty worried, “I hope they get that thing up soon—it’s hard enough to cook in this place without sloshing around in snow!”

  Bix shook his head dubiously. He had been working with Sid and Ben all morning, trying to get the guy ropes in place for the canopy. “Not as easy as in the other room,” he said. “There’s no center wall to support the canopy. Have to have more anchors, or the thing will sag so much the canvas won’t stay in place—and if it’s got to hold some snow, that’ll be even harder.”

  Dani looked over to where Ben balanced precariously on the pyramid of tables, joining the ropes that crisscrossed the space. “It’s a lot like making a spiderweb,” she mused. “Except Ben’s no spider.” All morning he had moved from spot to spot, tying the ropes, and since there was no other way to get that high—and no one else would volunteer to mount the shaky affair—it was a slow process. She shook her head. “I’ll be glad when Ben doesn’t have to risk his neck on that thing.”

  Shortly before twelve, Ben came down, saying, “That’s all the network—we can put the canvas on after lunch.”

  “Karen, I promised Vince he could come out and eat with us if we got the canopy in,” Dani reminded the doctor.

  “It’s not on yet,” Karen said. “He doesn’t need to get too cold.”

  “Oh, but he’s so tired of that cot!” Candi cried. “We can move one of the big chairs over and wrap him up!”

  “Yeah, give him a break,” Sid urged, and when Karen nodded, he gave a rare smile and dashed off, calling back, “Somebody get the chair ready, and I’ll give him a hand.”

  By the time Vince came out, wrapped in a heavy coat and leaning heavily on Sid, everything was ready. A cheer went up, along with a burst of applause as Sid steered him to the chair and he collapsed into it. Vince’s face was pale, and he had lost weight; but he looked around, and some of his old cockiness appeared as he waved a hand, saying, “Aw, come on, you guys—let’s chow down!”

  Dani helped serve the food, stopping to ask Rachel, “How are you feeling? Any better?”

  Rachel nodded and attempted a small smile. “Yes—a little. I’m just so weak!” She shook her head, adding in despair, “It’s that medicine Karen keeps giving me. It just knocks me out!”

  “That’s the way it hits some people, Rachel,” Karen said. “But you need lots of sleep, so you stay on it for at least another day.”

  Betty had fixed two lunches, a light soup for Vince and Rachel and fried chicken and mashed potatoes for the rest of them. Lonnie took a huge bite out of a leg, chewed it thoughtfully, then said, “Hey, Betty, I thought you was a good ol’ southern girl?”

  Betty gave him a startled look, then snapped, “I am!”

  Lonnie shook his head, “Aw, come on now! I may be dumb, but one thing I do know is fried chicken. I et all kinds, and you can always tell where you are in this country by the way they do chicken.” He took another bite and shook his head. “I ain’t sayin’ it’s bad—it just ain’t southern.”

  Betty muttered, “You eat so fast you never taste anything, Lonnie Gibbs. I guess I ought to know where I come from!” She turned abruptly to Ben, demanding, “Well, are you going to get that cover over us today or not?”

  “Won’t take more than two or three hours, Betty,” he said. Ben sat there, eating slowly and listening to Bix argue with Karl about music. Once he caught Dani’s glance and she seemed embarrassed, dropping her eyes. When Karen left their table, he said, “You ought to be arrested, boss”

  She looked up, a startled expression in her eyes. “Arrested?”

  “For practicing without a license.” Idly he pushed his potatoes around with a spoon, and when he looked at her suddenly, there was a touch of wonder in his eyes. “I never had much use for psychiatry, but I guess they must have something going. All that stuff about lying on a couch and telling everything—I thought it was nutty.” He shook his head slowly. “I’ve been pretty locked up inside for a long time. Maybe that’s why, ever since I left the circus, I tried every dangerous thing I could find—like the Rangers. Maybe the shrinks would say I was trying to off myself—and they might not be far wrong. But last night, after I did what I’ve never done—squalled like a hurt puppy!—something changed.”

  Dani stared at him. “What do you think it is, Ben?”

  “Don’t know,” he said, folding his square hands into fists. “All I know is, I slept last night like a baby. No dreams at all. And when I woke up this morning, I—I could think about Florrie and Hugo for the first time since the accident without wanting to jump off a bridge.” His face was intensely sober as he added, “I owe you one for that, boss.”

  His steady gaze flustered Dani. She felt her face glowing and said quickly, “I don’t think it was anything I did, Ben. You managed to speak about Florrie and Hugo. Psychiatrists are right in line with the Bible in one way: They all agree that confession has to come before a man or a woman can be set free. Why, there’s even a verse in the Bible that says, ‘Confess your faults one to another.’”

  “Yeah, but I’ve got the idea that if you hadn’t been in the right place, at the right time, I’d never have been able to say it to anyone.” He gave her a peculiar glance and added, “You know, I’ve been waiting for something ever since I met you.”

  “Why, waiting for what?”

  “Why, waiting for you to start preaching at me.”

  A faint color touched Dani’s cheek; she tried to smile. “I—I’ve wanted to, Ben. You’d be surprised if you knew how many nights I’ve been kept awake thinking about you.”

  He grinned suddenly, his lips broad and touched with a rare humor. “That right, boss?”

  The color in her cheeks deepened, and she lifted her head, giving him a steady look. “Not like that. I want to see you find Jesus Christ. But I know you’ve got this big wall built up. So—I’ll have to wait until something knocks that wall down, Ben.”

  He started to speak, but at that moment Karen returned, saying, “Come alo
ng Rachel—you, too, Vince. Time for your medicine.”

  Rachel groaned, “I hate that stuff, don’t you, Vince?”

  The big man shrugged as he got up and moved slowly toward the sleeping area. “It makes me sleep—and that’s better than staring at the ceiling.” Then he stopped and gave a sheepish grin. “Hey, it’s great to be back in the world again!”

  They all called out a cheery word. Ben broke in, “Come on, you guys, let’s get this thing done before we all freeze!”

  Betty said shortly, “The kitchen is filthy! I want every inch of it scrubbed!”

  The two crews went to work at once. Ben, Karl, and Bix scurried around busily, moving the makeshift scaffold from one place to another. Constant scraping sounds and Ben’s loud commands as the other two maneuvered the material up to him echoed through the room. Sid left to go work on the Jericho Project, and the chunk of the chisel came faintly to the kitchen crew, composed of Betty, Dani, Karen, and Candi.

  Finally Betty pronounced the room clean, but she added firmly, “I’ve got to organize the meals for next week—and somebody has to peel potatoes and wash all the dishes.”

  Candi pleaded, “Oh, Betty, I’m so grimy!” She had done a great deal of the rough cleaning and was covered with old grease.

  “You go take a shower,” Dani said quickly. “Karen and I will take care of the rest of it.”

  After a quick look at Betty, who nodded, Candi gave Dani a hug. “You saved my life, Dani!” she cried and dashed out of the kitchen, calling out to the men as she ran, “Have that thing done by the time I’ve showered, you hear me?”

  “She’s a new person,” Karen murmured as the three of them went to work. “Not at all what she was like when she first came.” She and Dani worked on the potatoes and the dishes, while Betty sat in a chair and pored over her recipes.

  Finally Betty looked up, “Oh, for crying out loud! I left some of my recipes under my bed.” Soon she came back with the recipes in her hand. “Karen, Rachel’s having some kind of spell—tossing and having a nightmare, I reckon,” she worried.