I tried to cover up my embarrassment by offering the jocular comment: “And be henpecked like you? Not on your life!”
Turnbull winced. “Oh, a man can be happy", he insisted, “even though he has got a wife. That is, provided he knows the formula for marital bliss.” He paused, waiting for me to express the desire to hear this formula but I am afraid my mind was wandering again. “Up to forty, double bed; forty to fifty, single beds; fifty to sixty, separate rooms; above sixty, separate homes.”
I laughed at this and asked him how old he was. “Me? Oh, that's for those who can afford it. You can't get rich shoving pills down people's throats... unless you've got a tricky moustache.”
Hurriedly, I changed the subject. I did not want him to start discussing Carpenter. It might lead to mention of Anita. It had somehow leaked out that they were already engaged and rumor had it that they contemplated an undelayed marriage.
In a small town a drugstore is invariably the center of gossip—;barber-shops running a close second—;and I am sure that I was the most informed person in town. I was always the first to know things and very often people would ask me questions about what so-and-so intended to do. Not wishing to be involved in the spreading of malicious gossip, it was my policy to look innocent and even surprised that they expected me to know.
To the remarks I overheard concerning Anita and Dr. Carpenter I took little heed. It would never do for anyone to suspect my own interest in the girl. Folks might laugh or guy me about her. Besides it might get back to Anita. So I contained myself as best I could and tried to dismiss the remarks casually. In this, I pride myself on being successful. Up until the day I married Anita before the Justice of the Peace no one uncovered my true feelings.
One Saturday afternoon Leo and Anita were in the store and fell to quarreling. I can't remember how the argument started exactly but it became more vigorous as the minutes passed until I felt embarrassed witnessing it. I retired to the drug room, hoping that a customer would come in so that they either would have to cease their quarrel or continue it some place else. From what I overheard I gathered that Anita wanted to attend some party or other and Leo did not. This seemed to me to be a trivial cause for a scrap but, at length, Anita stamped out of the store, slamming the screen door viciously behind her. Leo remained where he was.
As I came from the back, carrying some packages of supplies to explain my disappearance from the scene of the dispute, Leo made the remark: “Well, if that's the way she feels, to hell with her!” Then he turned to me. “Aren't women the limit, Pete? Treat them nice, and the first thing you know they think they own you!”
From that time on, I am afraid I entertained the notion that Leo was not in love with her; and that if she was capable of ranting at him the way she had, the affair would not last long. I did not know then that passion plays strange tricks on people. I did not know that the ones who hate hard, love hard.
The following day I learned that Anita had gone to the party unescorted and, although the weather was too cold to be suitable, had taken a swim. To my disappointment, I also learned that they had made up later on and had driven off in his car for the remainder of the evening.
Indeed, the graph of my hope was erratic; first up and then down as weeks rolled by. Whenever she would come into the store to purchase some item she would smile pleasantly and direct at me only those impersonalities which had to do with the temperature or the weather. Only once did she say, “And how are you today?” Fearful that in a moment of weakness I might let slip something which would give me away, I retreated behind my best storekeeper's manner.
The opinion might be formed by this time that I am something of a stoic and, except for one instance which I set down at this point, I think I did rather well in concealing my love. But I could scarcely keep myself from vaulting the counter and striking Doctor Carpenter the day he walked into my store and requested that I sell him a certain article which, I had no doubt, he intended to employ in wooing the woman for whom I yearned. Naturally, I did no such thing. Instead, I controlled my temper and curtly informed him that I was completely sold out of what he wanted. I think he looked at me in a puzzled way. My tone, I suppose, was quite the reverse of the usual deferential manner I adopted when speaking to customers.
In that the doctor weighed fully twenty-five pounds more than I did, and was well respected as an amateur boxer, you may draw the conclusion if you like that I controlled myself because I was afraid of reprisals. Carpenter was not the type of man to permit himself to be struck without retaliating. But the truth of the matter is that at the moment I was too enraged to think of what bodily harm any such action on my part would involve. I held myself in check only because I knew it would give me away.
Through the plate-glass window, I watched the doctor cross the street and enter Ray Cavender's place, proceed to the back of the store and emerge a few minutes later putting something into his vest pocket. I felt sick to my stomach and a little dizzy. I locked up the drug room and, when my errand-boy returned from a delivery, I ordered him to take charge of the place for the rest of the day.
The following events which immediately preceded my marriage seem now to have happened with incredible swiftness but I imagine the days must have appeared intolerably long at the time. My prescription record informs me that on June 28, 1917, I began to make myself sleeping powders out of mild opiates. Since I am usually a sound sleeper, this suggests that I tossed and turned on my mattress as my mind tortured me by conjuring up visions of Anita in the arms of my rival.
It was Mrs. Michaelson, Anita's landlady, who first brought me the news that Anita and Carpenter had set the Fourth of July as their wedding day. My heart sank when I heard this. In despair I tried to persuade myself that it was merely a rumor without the slightest foundation of fact. To more or less substantiate my theory, Henry Liscombe, the County Clerk, who frequently patronized my store, had made no mention of issuing a license to the couple and Henry was the town's most garrulous individual. That night, however, I learned to my dismay that Anita had quit her job at the Knit Shoppe, telling her employer that she was going to be married.
As I was locking up on the evening of July 2nd I again encountered Mrs. Michaelson. Being something of a pet of her's from the days when I helped her carry bundles from the fruit stand (where I used to work during summers) to her buggy, she was accustomed to confide in me many interesting tidbits concerning her lodgers. So it was not without precedent that she related to me, almost verbatim, the terrible scrap that had taken place between Anita and the doctor in her back parlor.
“When he showed her the telegram, Peter, I thought the roof would come off! She was that mad! I was in the dining-room, mind you, setting the places for supper. I couldn't help overhearing the whole thing!”
That the Michaelson dining-room was immediately adjacent to the back parlor, I was well aware; and she could very easily have retired to the kitchen had she so desired. But, of course, I did not suggest this to her. I was only too grateful for any news which had to do with Anita's plans.
“Never in all my born days did I see a body so unreasonable,” went on the old lady. “Here's that poor boy Leo with a telegram saying that he'd better hike himself out to Phoenix right away if he wants to see his father alive; and here's that Hunt baggage insisting that they both go... after the wedding, of course! Well, Leo minced no words, I can tell you! He said: 'That would be nice, wouldn't it? Having a honeymoon while my dad's dying. I'm sorry, Anita. We'll have to postpone getting married until I come back.' At that she flies completely off the handle! But c-o-m-p-l-e-t-e-l-y! 'If you run off now without taking me, after I quit my job and told everyone I was getting married on the Fourth, you can stay away forever for all I care!' Well, Peter, to make a long story short, as I've got to get back to the house and see to it that that hired girl's cleaned up the kitchen before sneaking home, Leo turns on his heel and leaves her standing there. They were supposed to go out somewhere, too. I don't know if he'll go through
with his trip or not but there's a train out to New York tonight at nine and if he isn't aboard it, I'll be mighty surprised!”
Mrs. Michaelson hurried off down State Street, little dreaming that she had caused a great jubilance to well up within me. My mental scoreboard chalked up another point for my team.
That same evening after I had cooked and eaten my solitary meal, I decided to take a little stroll. It had been very warm all day but, with the going down of the sun, a welcome cool descended, bringing me renewed energy. This was rather a phenomenon because I usually felt totally spent after ten hours on my feet, and walking, whether in the evening cool or not, was an activity it was my habit to avoid. Nevertheless, on that night I found myself irresistibly drawn to the railroad station.
Arriving there, I lingered in the shadows of the closed freight warehouse, my attention riveted on the lighted interior of the waiting-room. I looked at my watch. It was ten minutes to nine. I was badly in need of a smoke but I did not want to risk revealing myself to anyone who might happen by. From where I stood I could not of course see the lights of Ithaca's famous crescent but the Trumansburg road rose in a steep, broken line of lights, reminding me, for no apparent reason, of Jacob's ladder. A west-bound freight, probably going to Buffalo and Chicago, thundered past. The headlight of the locomotive rested upon me for a brief moment and then flashed away.
Soon I was rewarded for my patience. Doctor Carpenter stepped out of the waiting-room and onto the platform, carrying two satchels. Far up the track the whistle of a train came faintly mournful to my ears. I looked around for some sign of Anita. I could see none. If she was there, she must be still inside the waiting-room. The two pieces of luggage, though, were a bad omen. Moreover, the doctor kept turning his head this way and that as if he expected someone.
Soon the train ground and hissed to a stop. A porter descended and lifted the two bags into the Pullman and as the conductor cried, “All 'board!” and waved a signal to the engineer, the doctor reluctantly climbed up as the train gathered speed.
Well! No words of mine can express how elated I was! I could have sung and, strangely enough, that is exactly what I did do. My voice, at best, has never been much more than a nasal groan which, as it increases in volume, gets worse. As the train disappeared in the distance, its red tail-lantern shrinking smaller and smaller until it could no longer be seen, I let loose my joy with such fervor that every person within a mile of the station must have been seriously alarmed. I remember the station-agent came out onto the platform and recognizing me asked: “What's the trouble, Pete? Ya sick?”
Of course I recalled that Carpenter and Anita had scrapped before and had made up within a few hours. But this, I hoped, would be a permanent rift which they would never allow their prides to bridge. While my own suit was in no way furthered, at least I knew my most formidable rival was temporarily out of the picture, leaving the field clear. It was now up to me.
But how? I had never had any great experience with women and, except for one or two occasions at medical school when, in the company of some classmates, I visited a house of ill repute, absolutely no intimate relations with them at all.
This problem occupied my mind that night as I returned to my house and took up my usual position near the lake. That I could never be happy without Anita had long ago impressed me; and I knew that unless I worked fast the doctor might return and make up with her. Yes, or she might become infatuated with someone else. There were so many nice young men in town, business people and wealthy students from up on the hill. I wondered at my conceit in hoping to succeed.
Fortunately, the problem solved itself without my having to devise any schemes by which she would fall in love with me and consent to a marriage. And the very night that marked Doctor Carpenter's departure from the scene marked the fulfillment of all my dreams.
I must have dropped off to sleep in my deck-chair for several hours on that night of July 2nd; for when I opened my eyes the absence of any lights across the lake made it obvious that midnight was a thing of the past. I felt refreshed after my nap and, as my mind awakened and became conscious of what had transpired earlier, I felt even buoyant. Despite the fact that I would have to be at the store earlier than usual the next morning to receive a shipment of fireworks, I decided not to turn in. I was not the least bit sleepy and anyway I wanted to think.
But on my back porch I had left a light burning and it annoyed me. Although my back was to it, the yellow glow coming over my shoulder seemed to intrude upon the welcome comfort of the darkness. The night was unusually dark for that season of the year. The sky was a vast expanse of mourning veils, uncontaminated by a moon or even by stars. And the air was almost cold.
Over Cayuga the wind seemed to moan the syllables of the lake's name and the rustling leaves of the trees sounded like the applause of some vast audience. Even with these noises, I got the strange feeling that it was quiet.
Always having been an ardent admirer of Nature and never having failed to be impressed by each and every one of her miracles, I am also sadly ignorant of her—;like most people. I have never been able to remember the names of stars or trees or to distinguish types of birds; but I have always appreciated their beauty and often thought how strange the world would be if there were no such things. At the moment, however, even Nature could not force her way into my thoughts, occupied as they were with Anita and the baffling problem of winning her.
As I was about to extinguish the porch light, I was startled by the sound of splashing in the lake. I left the light burning and made my way to the shore. Something was emerging from the water. I could not make out who it was or even if it was a human. At first I fancied it might be some dog belonging to a neighbor.
“Who's there?” I called, feeling very silly.
I was rewarded by a groan of relief. “So you've awaken at last, have you? I've been paddling around for over an hour! Didn't you hear me call?”
The voice shook me and I fumbled in my pockets for a match. I might have spared myself the effort because I recognized her voice instantly. The match flared and before it flickered out, burning the tips of my fingers, I saw that she was in a bathing suit and shivering with the cold.
“Miss Hunt!” I gasped.
“That's right,” she replied, her teeth chattering. “And whoever you are I'm sorry to have got you out of bed. I'm afraid I lost my bearings in the dark. Am I anywhere near town? Lucky I saw your light.”
I struck another match so that she would recognize me. Needless to say, this unexpected visit seemed most portentous and left me temporarily tongue-tied. Of all the persons who might have been swimming in the lake, it had to be Anita! And of all the places she might have come ashore, it had to be at my own landing! I almost began to believe in God.
Now when I look back on it I can only regret that she came that night. If I had not left that light burning, in all probability she would have drowned or landed at some other point. In any case I am certain we would never have been married and the marriage, I reiterate, was the direct cause of my undoing.
“I'm Peter Thatcher,” I managed to say.
“Yes, of course. I know. The druggist man.”
I became suddenly aware that her mouth was blue with the cold and that her arms were goose-flesh. “Will... will you come inside, Miss Hunt? You've got to warm yourself or you'll catch your death of cold. I... I live alone here,” I stammered apologetically as an afterthought.
As I uttered this, I was sure she would refuse. Ladies did not visit bachelor's homes unchaperoned in the dead of night.
“I was waiting for you to invite me in.” And she accepted my invitation with a celerity that was not surprising when you saw how chilled she was.
“I was only thinking of the proprieties.” I removed my Norfolk jacket and placed it about her wet shoulders—;not without misgivings because the shirt I was wearing was rather shabby and none too clean. She murmured her thanks.
“Proprieties? I'm only interested in something warm
.”
“Watch out for those sharp stones,” I warned her. “You'll cut your feet. I've been promising myself to clear this beach for years but somehow I never got around to it.”
Guiding her with a hand on her bare elbow, we soon reached the house. I led her around into the living-room. “If you'll wait here, Miss Hunt, I'll run upstairs and find you some towels and maybe something to warm you up inside. I'm afraid that there are no logs for this fireplace but... but it might be warmer in the kitchen if I light the stove.” I remember that I felt ashamed to suggest that. In those very formal days one did not entertain their guests in the kitchen. Now, I understand that parties are given in attics, cellars, kitchens and even in hotel bedrooms. Such affairs twenty years ago were almost unheard of.
But Anita smiled reassuringly. “O, let's do go into the kitchen. I'll be lighting the stove while you fetch the towels.”
I must confess that I am not much of a housekeeper, and during the years I lived alone, my place was generally very untidy. It was my custom to hire a scrub-woman on the first of each month to do a thorough job of hoeing out. Frequently, by the end of the month I would find myself without a clean dish to eat from and all of my towels black with shoe polish. Therefore I was infinitely grateful that this was the second of the month. With everything in good order the little house was very presentable and I know that Anita was delighted with it.
I changed my shirt while I was upstairs before I did anything else and then I combed my hair. Besides three fresh towels, my best bathrobe and a pair of slippers, I also unearthed a bottle of rare brandy which I had set aside for some state occasion. I have never been an habitual drinker of hard liquor, being partial to beer and light wines; but I thought a glass or two of brandy might do her good after her cold swim. Then too I was hoping that the spirit might loosen her tongue and put us on more intimate terms... make us friends.
Double Jeopardy Page 2