American Dreams (26 page)

'Let's walk.' She left the car, blinked in the sunshine. He felt the warmth of the earth around them. She threw her duster on her seat, took her hat off but left the red silk around her neck like a long, bright banner.

Hand in hand they walked up the track toward a willow grove. Without looking at him she began to jtalk.

'It happened last night. After supper. Father asked to speak to me in his study. I thought it was something unimportant, but he shut the doors and I knew it wasn't. He said Wayne had been pressing him about marrying me.' The hackles on Carl's neck rose.

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'Father said he thought Wayne would be an ideal catch and I should say yes. I told him I couldn't possibly. He said my feelings didn't matter;

in this I'd have to bow to his wishes. We argued for ten or fifteen minutes.'

The strain in her voice, the little stumbles and dead spaces between words, told him she'd found Lorenzo Clymer a determined opponent whose will wouldn't be denied, not even by a modern, free minded woman.

'I said I didn't love Wayne. He said it didn't matter. It was what he wanted, for my own good, and I'd recognize and appreciate that in a few years. That's when--' Amid the tall grass bending over the track, Tess held his hand tightly. The morning breeze from the north blew her white blouse against her breasts.

'That was when my strength gave out. I was hysterical. I told Father no, I wouldn't ever marry Wayne. I told him I'd marry you and no one else.'

A spasm twisted Carl's belly.

'Father leaned back in his big chair and just stared at me. You would think I'd said I wanted to marry a leper. He said he couldn't believe that I was so willful and stupid. I said I wouldn't talk about it anymore, he had my answer.' She dabbed her eyes with her free hand.

'I'm afraid I was pretty much of a wild creature by then. He was like stone. I knew he and Wayne must have conspired together. He said we'd talk about it when I came to my senses. He ordered me out, just like some clerk. That was about nine o'clock. I couldn't sleep. Once I called you I felt better. I dozed off and woke up around seven. Father had already left the house. That's the whole pathetic tale,' she said with a smile that lacked heart. A noisy crow flew over the sunlit track, sailing up into the sky dotted with small white clouds.

'What do we do, Carl?'

'Honestly, I don't know.' He'd never been so deeply involved with a 158

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woman before, or loved one the way he loved her. Jesse's words about a lifetime of responsibility haunted him.

Tess found his hand again. 'Come on, let's sit in the shade and rest. I'm worn out.'

'God, I can imagine.'

Among the budding willows they came on a slow-moving brook. Carl sat down facing it with his back to a tree trunk. Tess cuddled against him, wrapped in his protecting arm like a child. The rounded place under his
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right thumb rested against her warm cheek. Her outstretched legs lay touching his. The bow of her blouse had come undone; the ends lay between her round breasts. He held her and hoped he was comforting her with his presence; he wasn't a sophisticated person, didn't know the right words. The creek flowed over rocks, making a faint sound like paper rustling.

'Carl, do you love me?'

'More than anything.'

'Make love to me.'

'Tess--'

She struggled to her knees, her skirt riding up her legs; he could see her black stockings. She put her palms against his face and brought her mouth near his.

'There's no one to see, no one for miles. Please.' She kissed him, her lips open, her tongue finding his. He grew stiff tasting her mouth, smelling the sweet warmth of her hair, her skin.

He slid his hand under her arm, touched her breast. Through her blouse and whatever undergarments she wore he felt her nipple. She leaned back, pulled the blouse buttons with her right hand. He took her wrist.

'I ran out of the house fast, like it was burning down. I didn't bring any safes.'

'I don't care. 1 love you. We might never get another chance. Please..'

They looked into each other's eyes. Feeling like a diver stepping off a cliff above a deep, dark ocean, he reached under her skirt and fumbled with her stockings.

They made love twice more before noon. Then Tess looked at her small gold wristwatch. She said perhaps they'd better return to the city. Carl said she could drop him near the factory if she didn't mind; he'd tell A Desperate Call

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them he felt better, work a half day. He didn't know what this latest turn in their relationship signified. Didn't know what she'd want because of it.

A part of him had no regret about what had happened in the willow
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grove. The lovemaking had been consuming, shattering -- wonderful. At the moment he'd readied himself to thrust in the first time, he asked the essential question. No, she said, she'd had one lover before him, when she was eighteen. The affair had lasted an entire summer. He needn't fear causing her pain.

She let him out in front of a small cigar store a block from the Ford plant. She seemed herself again, seated at the wheel, her hair more or less arranged, her clothing too. The sun in her dark blue eyes made them sparkle.

'Carl, believe me, I didn't set out to seduce you.'

'Let's have none of that. My God, I've wanted it ever since I met you.

I just don't know what we're going to do. I have to think.'

'Plenty of time for that.' She caressed his face. 'I won't marry Wayne, but I'd never force marriage on you.'

With a smile that reminded him of their first meeting, she drew the red silk motoring scarf from her neck, reached above him, and draped it over his shoulders.

'My shining knight on a gasoline charger. There's a token so you don't forget me.'

'Forget you? I love you, Tess.'

'Shall we plan on Sunday?'

'What about a picnic on Bois Blanc island? I'll telephone.'

'No, all the servants recognize your voice now. They might tell Father and I'd rather avoid another scene. I'll meet you at the Wayne Hotel, outside the roller-skating pavilion. I'll bring the lunch basket. Eleven o'clock?' % 'Perfect,' he said. 'I love you.'

She kissed her fingertips and touched his cheek. She worked the clutch and drove away, passing an oncoming truck laden with barrels that bore a familiar crown emblem. Carl stared at the delivery truck as it crossed the intersection within six feet of him. It was like the hand of God, or the hand of Joe Crown, reaching down at that fated moment to remind him of things like duty, decency, the honor of womanhood. He didn't know what to do, except talk to Jesse. Ask his advice. Right away.

A black boy sweeping out the cigar store watched Carl curiously. The boy saw a stocky white man with a troubled air and a red scarf blowing in the spring air as he trudged away toward Piquette Avenue.

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£T f you're this shining knight like she told you, don't you suppose you got J_to rescue her?' Sitting on a keg, an oily rag in his hand, Jesse watched Carl. A coal oil lantern lit the shed. Cigarette in hand, Carl paced back and forth, back and forth, laying heel prints one over another.

Carl hadn't found Jesse until this evening, Wednesday. The night before he'd waited two hours on Jesse's front porch, but Jesse never came home.

Turned out he was meeting with other men from the foundry, pondering how to force an answer to the petition for a vote on a closed shop.

Carl dragged on the hand-made cigarette. 'Yes, it's up to me,' he agreed. He'd told his friend about Clymer's ultimatum to Tess and her reaction. He said they'd discussed it on a drive in the country, but he said nothing else.

'You got any ideas about that?'

'Barney Oldfield said he might have an opening on his team later this summer. If he'd hire me, and Tess would marry me, we could leave Detroit.'

Jesse puckered his mouth. 'To travel with that race crowd? You told me they're a pretty low bunch, drinking and whoring all the time. Think she'd be happy? Might last - what? Six months? Maybe a year if she loves you as much as you say.'

'She said she'd walk through fire for me, Jess. Her exact words.'

'People in love say lots of things. Then years go by, and the chore of living comes down hard day after day and they wonder how those words ever came to pass their lips. I'd think real hard before dragging a high class young lady away from all she's used to, into a lot of barrooms and low-down hotels.'

Carl dropped the cigarette and stepped on it. Jesse was right; to be convinced of that he only had to remember the road house where he'd cornered Barney. He wondered whether this concern for Tess wasn't also a handy way to hide something he feared. The duty that went with marriage.

He

started to speak, but a noise outside forestalled it. He heard footsteps in the backyard. Reflections of the lamp wick glittered in Jesse's eyes as he turned his head. He'd heard it too.

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'Somebody out there, Jess.'

'Isn't your fight,' Jesse said hoarsely. 'Get into the alley.' He bobbed his head toward a second door behind him.

'What fight? With who?' A man in the yard gave a gruff order, and the footsteps quickened. Jesse grabbed a hammer from the tool bench.

'The damn EA. The petition. Bosses must have sent somebody to--'

The door facing the yard flew open, the peg latch splintering. Carl found himself staring at a hobnailed boot.

Then the man was inside the shed, followed by another. Both had coarse faces, shabby clothes. The first man carried a fish gaff, the second an iron pipe. Just as Carl stepped in front of them, the door behind Jess burst open. A man wearing a dirty driving coat and pea cap came in swinging a ball bat.

Carl shouted at the first two, 'What the hell are you doing here? Turn around and get--' A blow to his skull set lights dancing behind his eyes.

The man with the ball bat had struck from behind.

Carl fell forward, crashed head first into the shed wall. His flailing hands pulled down parts cabinets, spilled hundreds of sheet metal screws of all sizes.

The man with the gaff dodged in beneath Jesse's swinging hammer.

The gaff hook whirled and sank three inches into Jesse's left thigh. Pain glazed Jesse's face; the hammer flew out of his fingers. The man tore the hook out with a vicious motion of his wrist. Clenching his teeth, Jesse sank to one knee. The second man raised the iron pipe to brain him, but the man in the driving coat screamed, 'Elroy, you fucking idiot, it isn't the spade, it's the other one.'

Carl was clawing the shanty wall, pulling himself up when he heard that. Lorenzo Clymer had told someone about Tess's refusal, and Carl kn^w who it was.

The ball bat smashed his legs. He fell on his face. As the man with the gaff made to step on his head, Carl rolled over, kicked the shins of the man with the bat. The man danced back, snickering. He took a firm two handed grip, lifted the bat over his head. Helplessly, Carl rolled to the right. But the bat never came down. Just then Jesse broke the lamp over the man's head.

Coal oil soaked the man's neck and collar. The wick touched it off. The man's hair and cap burst into flames. He screamed, dropped the bat.

More coal oil splattered a work table and ignited. Fire ran up the flimsy wooden wall. In their haste to escape into the alley, the man with the gaff
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and the man with the iron pipe bumped each other like circus clowns.

Screaming, the other man pulled his long coat over his head. Somehow he snuffed out the flames. Dragging to his feet, Carl had a last look at him as he ran after the others and disappeared, leaving a stench of burned hair.

The wooden walls burned fast, popping like oily fatwood. 'Jesse, get up.' Jesse couldn't get up, or hear; he'd passed out. His trouser leg was blood-soaked from thigh to shoe top.

Carl dragged him outside, laid him in the yard a safe distance from the fire. As a white man from next door rushed through a gate in the board fence, Carl yelled, 'Call the fire station, for God's sake.'

'Already sent my boy Tolliver. What happened to Mr. Shiner?'

'Man sunk a gaff hook in his leg.'

'Oh, Lord. Looks awful.'

The neat backyard with its carefully tended flower beds tilted under Carl. He stumbled to the fence, swallowing sour vomit. He hung on the fence till the spell passed.

A dozen terrified neighbors gathered. Several threw buckets of water on the fire, to little avail. The clanging bell of a fire wagon reached them. A woman said, 'Merciful God, hurry up before all the houses burn.'

Carl reeled back to his fallen friend. 'Someone help me lift him. He needs a hospital.'

The neighbor ran to hitch up his horse and buggy. Carl ripped a piece off his pants for an improvised tourniquet. He tied it above the mangled mess of flesh and muscle in Jesse's leg. Thank God Jesse was out.

They left in the buggy seconds before the fire horses charged down the alley from the other end of the block. The fire brigade unreeled hoses to soak the glowing ruins of the shed. Only a few sparks floated in the windless air.

Ten minutes later, Carl and the white man carried Jesse through the emergency door of Samaritan Hospital on Jefferson Avenue. A doctor examined him.

'We'll get him to the operating theater right away. Stitch him up.

There's muscle damage, I don't know how much.'

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Attendants covered Jesse with a sheet and rolled him away on a gurney.

The hospital was dark, silent, full of the smell of chemicals and disinfectants.

Carl sank down on a bench, filthy with sweat and grime. He was still shaking.

The neighbor said, 'Why did those men attack him? Mr. Shiner's a gentle soul.'

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'It was a mistake. They were after me.'

'Do you know where they came from?'

'I do. I know exactly where they came from.'

Sykes & Looby, Advertising Agents, occupied rooms on two floors of the Penobscot Building on Fort Street West. The hushed reception lobby with its gold and forest green color scheme, its dim wall lamps with tiny shades, had a studied quaintness. Several times Joe Crown had taken young Carl with him to the Chicago agency that prepared and placed the brewery's ads. Crown's advertising agents were plainspoken men, working from offices that were, like them, unpretentious. Here, by contrast, there was a rotten air of sham. Busts of Shakespeare and Tennyson gazed from marble pedestals, as though to suggest that the commercial work ground out in these rooms had something in common with the creativity of genius.