Bliss, Remembered (34 page)

Well, the episode made Jimmy Branch an absolute celebrity, B’lyn division. Not only did Mr. S immediately give him a $l0 reward, but when he reported the incident to the home office, they doubled it. The irony was, too, that there really wasn’t that much $ in the bag, because, as I’ve explained, very few people were so naïve as to send cash thru the U.S. mail. Still, had the stupid robber gotten away, it would’ve been a real nuisance going back to all the folks who had sent in checks & $ orders. So the reward was richly deserved.

The Bank also gave Jimmy a dollar-a-week raise & a letter of commendation & the manager took him out to a very fancy lunch & told him he had a bright future at the bank. Not only that, but the B’lyn Eagle took Jimmy’s photo & put it in the paper, making him “Good Citizen Of The Week.”

Neither was I forgotten. I not only enjoyed a great deal of sympathy for suffering the broken wrist & the other cuts and bruises, etc., but I was also recognized for being such a brave girl & not just swooning when I was attacked. On my lst day back to work, brandishing my cast and bandages, etc., Mr. S presented me w/ a lovely bouquet, then led the entire staff in a round of applause for me. “You wanna know something?” he asked the assembled. “If Sydney hadn’t fought so courageously when the yegg attacked her, he would’ve gotten away before the courageous young man could give chase & save the day.”

I tried to be a good sport & not let on how disappointed I was that I couldn’t compete in the national championships, but, of course, I was absolutely crushed. I wanted a good race. I was never one of those athletes who thrived on practice. If there hadn’t been a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow (that’s the Tokyo Olympics in my case), I wouldn’t have swam and swam and swam all those damn laps. So I have to admit that, alone in my room, I brought out my new WSA bathing suit & held it up before me w/ my good hand. And I cried.

Another offshoot of the incident was that now all the single gals in the office, having discovered Jimmy, #l, fell for him themselves, &/or #2, could not believe how I could be resisting his advances. “What is your story, morning glory?” Iris asked me, uncomprehending of how I could be so cool to such a honey of a guy. Jimmy’s picture from the Eagle was posted on the office bulletin board, there for all to see & rave about (particularly) in my presence.

And, of course, it was impossible for me not to accept Jimmy’s invitation to go out on a dinner date w/ him, especially since he told me that besides getting a new suit, that was how he wanted to spend the $20 reward. On me. Under the circumstances, I knew this could in no way be construed as cheating on Horst. Mr. S—for he and Mrs. S were also both firmly now on the Jimmy Branch bandwagon—even suggested a restaurant that he felt sure would advance Jimmy’s cause in his pursuit of my heart.

It was a place on Montague Street called Mammy’s Pantry, which doesn’t sound like much, but for some reason, there in the bosom of B’lyn, of all things, it specialized in seafood from my own Chesapeake Bay. Jimmy had never even heard of crab cakes before, but he adored them. He walked me back to the Schooleys, & I told him that I’d had a lovely time, which was true.

“So when can I take you out again?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Jimmy.”

“Don’t you like me?”

“Of course I do. Can’t you tell that, dopey? I think you’re aces. But I’m in love w/ another boy, & I’m going to marry him. Come on, you KNOW all that.”

“But, Sydney, he’s in Germany.”

I’d had to tell him that much about Horst by now. But I just replied: “Jimmy, it doesn’t matter whether he’s in Timbuctoo. So please, do yourself a favor & forget about me. Why, there’s at least a doz. girls in my office who’re crazy about you. And I mean some of the prettiest gals at Metropolitan.”

Jimmy just shook his head. “I don’t care, Sydney. I’ve just fallen for you like a ton of bricks, &—” I could tell that bashful as he was he’d really gotten his nerve up & was going to try to kiss me. I wanted to escape the embarrassment of rejecting him, so very quickly, I just stuck out my good hand, even if it was the left one. He sighed & took it in both of his & held me there. “Just tell me ONE thing, Sydney.”

“Okay.”

“Suppose—just suppose—you’d met me lst.”

“lst what?”

“You know, before the German fellow. Could you have fallen in love w/ me, then?”

“You can’t change things, Jimmy. You can’t change time.”

“Just suppose.”

Well, I had to put an end to this. “No, Jimmy, I can’t suppose. You’re the nicest person, but I love Horst.”

So very quickly, I reached up & pecked him on the cheek, & then I dashed inside. In B’lyn Heights at that time, as in most of the U.S., nobody felt it necessary to lock their doors, so I could make my escape w/o prolonging the agony.

IV.

I didn’t even go to Jones Beach, to the nationals. I simply couldn’t bear to be there, sidelined, watching the other girls swim. But when my cast was removed, dutifully I started practicing again. At work, Mr. S had initially been reluctant to let me start carrying the checks & $ back over to the bank, but I assured him that “lightning doesn’t strike twice,” & that I retained no fears of being assaulted again. I did, however, continue to make a point not to go to Jimmy’s window, even tho I could see him eyeing me. And so, soon, I was back to my routine, & I even swam in a small meet in Sept., winning my race easily.

L. deB. said, “If you hadn’t lost all that time w/ your wrist, Sydney, you would’ve set the record today. There’s no question in my mind that right now you’re the best backstroker in the world.”

There was, however, one little black cloud that now unexpectedly appeared on the horizon. Horst’s monthly letter didn’t arrive, as it always did, like clockwork. I knew he’d begun his training as a naval cadet, so I decided it was a difficult time for him. But another week went by, then another. I began to worry, so I wrote him again, saying that I understood how arduous military life must be, but if he could just drop me a line, I’d feel so much better.

And, sure enough, a couple wks later, my heart skipped a beat when I came back from practice & there was a letter from Horst. Clutching it to my heart, I moved to my bed & tore it open. I could see right away that it wasn’t very long. In fact, it was very short—& it certainly was to the point. Read it and weep:

I held the letter in my lap, studying it. I think you could say I was in shock. Then, of course, that passed & I began to cry—lst only ordinary, run-of-the-mill tears, then great gulping sobs. It made no sense to me at all. “I’ll never forget you”!!! Well, then, why couldn’t we at least talk about it, Horst? It was terrible. Finally, I ran a bath & sat there till the water turned lukewarm, then even cool. I got out & took the letter & tore it up & got into bed &, yes, literally cried myself to sleep.

I think it’s fair to say: my heart was broken.

The next morning, when I came up for breakfast, Mr. S had already left. Mrs. S was walking on eggshells, I could tell. My eyes were red because I’d already cried some more, & I had a pretty good idea that Mrs. S had put 2 + 2 together, because she’d seen the envelope & knew how happy I was when Horst’s letters came. Yet, instead, here I was, a complete mess.

“I’m sorry if you got bad news, Sydney,” Mrs. S said, which was just enough to trigger another deluge of tears from me. I fell into Mrs. S’s arms & sobbed some more. When I was relatively composed, she said, “I didn’t mean to pry, but I heard you crying last nite.”

“Yes,” I said.

“So Mr. S said he didn’t want you to come to work today.”

“No, really, I—”

“No, Sydney, that’s the dr.’s orders. Go out & try to do something to keep your mind off things—even tho I know that’s probably impossible.”

Well, it was, but I did try. The whole time I’d been in N.Y., I’d never been on the Staten I. ferry or up the new Empire State Bldg, so I did both of those. But I saw nothing, enjoyed nothing. (Didn’t I tell you you saw everything when you were in love? Well, this was the reverse. In spades.) All I could see was Horst, & all I could think of was him & his letter.

This may sound goofy, tho, but after a while, I convinced myself that I wanted to believe his letter. You see, altho I was altogether new at this, I decided that there was a saving grace having the man you love tell you that he’s ditching you, but you’re still wondering exactly why.

It would be far worse to have him write & say, well, Sydney, the reason I don’t want anything to do with you anymore is because I am sleeping w/ Miss Germany, l937, who I am desperately in love w/—& she’s better than you in every which way.

But if it really was only that there was a stupid ocean between us, well, that’s just a hurdle & it only made me mad that Horst could be so easily defeated by something as simple as distance. I thought, well, I can be a linear Rapunzel & let my locks grow, then spread them out across the sea so he could catch ahold & pull himself across to me. I mean, if it’s just a case of so-&-so many miles: come on, Horst!

So that’s why I decided that I wanted to believe the letter, because then he would obviously come to his senses & we would only look back upon this as “a bump in the road.”

It was in that frame of mind that I showed up at practice. I walked all the way down from the Empire State Bldg & all the way over to the London Terrace & by the time I got there, I was loaded for bear. I mean, I swam w/ a vengeance. I was an absolute naiad, & a dorsal to boot. I could’ve beaten the best men backstrokers in the world. L. deB. couldn’t believe his eyes. “Whatever you got today, Sydney,” he said, “bottle it & pass it round to all the other gals.” I just gritted my teeth.

But then, as soon as I got outside, by myself, I started crying again. So I tried to dry them, to at least look halfway presentable, &—

I couldn’t believe it. I refused to believe it. But there he was. Jimmy, of course.

Mr. S had obviously spilled the beans to him. Jimmy was waiting for me outside the subway. It was early in Nov. by now, a chilly nite, & he had his overcoat all buttoned up. He had his fedora on, too, because in those days if you worked in any office you were absolutely expected to wear a hat. He was just standing there, waiting, smoking a cigarette. It made me very mad that he would try to move right in on me in my lovelorn grief.

So I walked right by him as if he wasn’t there.

“Sydney,” he said softly. “Sydney, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” I said.

“Yeah, I am. I don’t like to see you hurt.”

“Well, I am, so leave me alone.”

I was striding away, leaving him in my dust. He called after me: “I just thought maybe you’d like to go to a movie.” I had to stop. I mean, I knew I was being rude. I still didn’t turn around, tho. But I heard him say, “We could go to the Roxy. I’ve never been to the Roxy, have you?”

That was the biggest movie theater in N.Y., up in Broadway. “‘Thin Ice’ is playing, w/ Tyrone Power and Sonja Henie, & it’s supposed to be real good. They have a stage show, too.” I didn’t say anything. “It might take your mind off things.”

I still didn’t speak. Except I probably made a face. He said, “Sydney, I’m not so stupid as to try to get your mind on me now. I just thought if you went to the movies, you’d get your mind off . . . you know, things.”

Well, I did turn back then. “I don’t want to talk,” I said.

“Fine. You’re not supposed to talk in a movie.”

Well . . . “OK,” I said—which I think, in fact, was the last thing I did say to him. We got on the subway, went to the Roxy & watched “Thin Ice.” Then we took the train back to B’lyn—but I just didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t want to talk to anybody. Well, I did say, “No, thank you,” when he asked me if I wanted anything to eat. Actually, I was starving. But I couldn’t face looking at Jimmy Branch or anybody else across a table.

When we got to B’lyn, he walked me home. Well, I wouldn’t actually say, he “walked me home.” He just walked along w/ me. I didn’t want him to, so I just sort of suffered him walking next to me.

At the Schooleys’, I started down to my room. I did say, “Thank you for the movie.”

I guess that standard bit of civility on my part gave Jimmy an opening. “Sydney . . .” I paused, sighing deeply, making it obvious that I was still only indulging him. “Sydney, I know how you must feel.”

“No, you don’t. Nobody you loved ever did this to you.”

“Well, I never really had anybody love me much, but I can imagine.” That sort of gave me pause. He was, after all, being very sweet, & I knew he was telling the truth about never having had anyone really love him. So I let him go on: “Listen, you have to talk to someone.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. And you know, Sydney, all we’ve ever done is talk, but I think we’ve done that real good together, so, if ever you do want to talk, I’d be happy to. OK?”

I just nodded, so he began walking away. I started to go in, but then I stopped, & I turned around, & softly I called after him. “Jimmy?”

He turned back, & when he did, I walked up to him & tilted my face up. When he didn’t get it, tho (which was perfectly understandable, given the circumstances), I got up on my toes, stuck my lips out & kissed him. It surprised him so much that at lst he didn’t even think to put his arms around me, but finally he remembered that you should hold a girl close when you kiss her.

I think Jimmy knew it was mostly a kiss of revenge, that I was kissing him just because I was so mad at Horst. I think he knew it wasn’t even a very good kiss on my part. But also, I think Jimmy realized: OK, you’ve got to start somewhere, & this is a pretty darn good place to start.