Complete Stories (52 page)
Authors: Dorothy Parker,Colleen Bresse,Regina Barreca
“I think that’s awful,” she said. “I think that’s just filthy.”
“I know,” he said. “But there’s nothing to do about it. This is the army, Mrs. Jones.”
“Couldn’t you have said something?” she said. “Couldn’t you have told them you’ve had only one leave in six months? Couldn’t you have said all the chance your wife had to see you again was just this poor little twenty-four hours? Couldn’t you have explained what it meant to her? Couldn’t you?”
“Come on, now, Mimi,” he said. “There’s a war on.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was sorry as soon as I’d said it. I was sorry while I was saying it. But—oh, it’s so hard!”
“It’s not easy for anybody,” he said. “You don’t know how the boys were looking forward to their leaves.”
“Oh, I don’t give a damn about the boys!” she said.
“That’s the spirit that’ll win for our side,” he said. He sat down in the biggest chair, stretched his legs and crossed his ankles.
“You don’t care about anything but those pilots,” she said.
“Look, Mimi,” he said. “We haven’t got time to do this. We haven’t got time to get into a fight and say a lot of things we don’t mean. Everything’s all—all speeded up, now. There’s no time left for this.”
“Oh, I know,” she said. “Oh, Steve, don’t I know!”
She went over and sat on the arm of his chair and buried her face in his shoulder.
“This is more like it,” he said. “I’ve kept thinking about this.” She nodded against his blouse.
“If you knew what it was to sit in a decent chair again,” he said.
She sat up. “Oh,” she said. “It’s the chair. I’m so glad you like it.”
“They’ve got the worst chairs you ever saw, in the pilots’ room,” he said. “A lot of busted-down old rockers—honestly, rockers—that big-hearted patriots contributed, to get them out of the attic. If they haven’t better furniture at the new field, I’m going to do something about it, even if I have to buy the stuff myself.”
“I certainly would, if I were you,” she said. “I’d go without food and clothing and laundry, so the boys would be happy sitting down. I wouldn’t even save out enough for air mail stamps, to write to my wife once in a while.”
She rose and moved about the room.
“Mimi, what’s the matter with you?” he said. “Are you—are you jealous of the pilots?”
She counted as far as eight, to herself. Then she turned and smiled at him.
“Why—I guess I am—” she said. “I guess that’s just what I must be. Not only of the pilots. Of the whole air corps. Of the whole Army of the United States.”
“You’re wonderful,” he said.
“You see,” she said with care, “you have a whole new life—I have half an old one. Your life is so far away from mine, I don’t see how they’re ever going to come back together.”
“That’s nonsense,” he said.
“No, please wait,” she said. “I get strained and—and frightened, I guess, and I say things I could cut my throat for saying. But you know what I really feel about you. I’m so proud of you I can’t find words for it. I know you’re doing the most important thing in the world, maybe the only important thing in the world. Only—oh, Steve, I wish to heaven you didn’t love doing it so much!”
“Listen,” he said.
“No,” she said. “You mustn’t interrupt a lady. It’s unbecoming an officer, like carrying packages in the street. I’m just trying to tell you a little about how I feel. I can’t get used to being so completely left out. You don’t wonder what I do, you don’t want to find out what’s in my head—why, you never even ask me how I am!”
“I do so!” he said. “I asked you how you were the minute I came in.”
“That was white of you,” she said.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” he said. “I didn’t have to ask you. I could see how you look. You look wonderful. I told you that.”
She smiled at him. “Yes, you did, didn’t you?” she said. “And you sounded as if you meant it. Do you really like my dress?”
“Oh, yes,” he said. “I always liked that dress on you.”
It was as if she turned to wood. “This dress,” she said, enunciating with insulting distinctness, “is brand-new. I have never had it on before in my life. In case you are interested, I bought it especially for this occasion.”
“I’m sorry, honey,” he said. “Oh, sure, now I see it’s not the other one at all. I think it’s great. I like you in black.”
“At moments like this,” she said, “I almost wish I were in it for another reason.”
“Stop it,” he said. “Sit down and tell me about yourself. What have you been doing?”
“Oh, nothing,” she said.
“How’s the office?” he said.
“Dull,” she said. “Dull as mud.”
“Who have you seen?” he said.
“Oh, nobody,” she said.
“Well, what do you
do
?” he said.
do
?” he said.
“In the evenings?” she said. “Oh, I sit here and knit and read detective stories that it turns out I’ve read before.”
“I think that’s all wrong of you,” he said. “I think it’s asinine to sit here alone, moping. That doesn’t do any good to anybody. Why don’t you go out more?”
“I hate to go out with just women,” she said.
“Well, why do you have to?” he said. “Ralph’s in town, isn’t he? And John and Bill and Gerald. Why don’t you go out with them? You’re silly not to.”
“It hadn’t occurred to me,” she said, “that it was silly to keep faithful to one’s husband.”
“Isn’t that taking rather a jump?” he said. “It’s possible to go to dinner with a man and stay this side adultery. And don’t use words like ‘one’s.’ You’re awful when you’re elegant.”
“I know,” she said. “I never have any luck when I try. No. You’re the one that’s awful, Steve. You really are. I’m trying to show you a glimpse of my heart, to tell you how it feels when you’re gone, how I don’t want to be with anyone if I can’t be with you. And all you say is, I’m not doing any good to anybody. That’ll be nice to think of when you go. You don’t know what it’s like for me here alone. You just don’t know.”
“Yes, I do,” he said. “I know, Mimi.” He reached for a cigarette on the little table beside him, and the bright magazine by the cigarette-box caught his eye. “Hey, is this this week’s? I haven’t seen it yet.” He glanced through the early pages.
“Go ahead and read if you want to,” she said. “Don’t let me disturb you.”
“I’m not reading,” he said. He put down the magazine. “You see, I don’t know what to say, when you start talking about showing me glimpses of your heart, and all that. I know. I know you must be having a rotten time. But aren’t you feeling fairly sorry for yourself?”
“If
I’m
not,” she said, “who would be?”
I’m
not,” she said, “who would be?”
“What do you want anyone to be sorry for you for?” he said. “You’d be all right if you’d stop sitting around alone. I’d like to think of you having a good time while I’m away.”
She went over to him and kissed him on the forehead.
“Lieutenant,” she said, “you are a far nobler character than I am. Either that,” she said, “or there is something else back of this.”
“Oh, shut up,” he said. He pulled her down to him and held her there. She seemed to melt against him, and stayed there, still.
Then she felt him take his left arm from around her and felt his head raised from its place against hers. She looked up at him. He was craning over her shoulder, endeavoring to see his wrist watch.
“Oh, now, really!” she said. She put her hands against his chest and pushed herself vigorously away from him.
“It goes so quickly,” he said softly, with his eyes on his watch. “We’ve—we’ve only a little while, darling.”
She melted again. “Oh, Steve,” she whispered. “Oh, dearest.”
“I do want to take a bath,” he said. “Get up, will you, baby?”
She got right up. “You’re going to take a bath?” she said.
“Yes,” he said. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Oh, not in the least,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. It’s one of the pleasantest ways of killing time, I always think.”
“You know how you feel after a long ride on a train,” he said.
“Oh, surely,” she said.
He rose and went into the bedroom. “I’ll hurry up,” he called back to her.
“Why?” she said.
Then she had a moment to consider herself. She went into the bedroom after him, sweet with renewed resolve. He had hung his blouse and necktie neatly over a chair and he was unbuttoning his shirt. As she came in, he took it off. She looked at the beautiful brown triangle of his back. She would do anything for him, anything in the world.
“I—I’ll go run your bath water,” she said. She went into the bathroom, turned on the faucets of the tub, and set the towels and mat ready. When she came back into the bedroom he was just entering it from the living-room, naked. In his hand he carried the bright magazine he had glanced at before. She stopped short.
“Oh,” she said. “You’re planning to read in the tub?”
“If you knew how I’d been looking forward to this!” he said. “Boy, a hot bath in a tub! We haven’t got anything but showers, and when you take a shower, there’s a hundred boys waiting, yelling at you to hurry up and get out.”
“I suppose they can’t bear being parted from you,” she said.
He smiled at her. “See you in a couple of minutes,” he said, and went on into the bathroom and closed the door. She heard the slow slip and slide of water as he laid himself in the tub.
She stood just as she was. The room was lively with the perfume she had sprayed, too present, too insistent. Her eyes went to the bureau drawer where lay, wrapped in soft fragrance, the nightgown with the little bouquets and the Romney neck. She went over to the bathroom door, drew back her right foot, and kicked the base of the door so savagely that the whole frame shook.
“What, dear?” he called. “Want something?”
“Oh, nothing,” she said. “Nothing whatever. I’ve got everything any woman could possibly want, haven’t I?”
“What?” he called. “I can’t hear you, honey.”
“Nothing,” she screamed.
She went into the living-room. She stood, breathing heavily, her finger nails scarring her palms, as she looked at the fuchsia blossoms, with their dirty parchment-colored cups, their vulgar magenta bells.
Her breath was quiet and her hands relaxed when he came into the living-room again. He had on his trousers and shirt, and his necktie was admirably knotted. He carried his belt. She turned to him. There were things she had meant to say, but she could do nothing but smile at him, when she saw him. Her heart turned liquid in her breast.
His brow was puckered. “Look, darling,” he said. “Have you got any brass polish?”
“Why, no,” she said. “We haven’t even got any brass.”
“Well, have you any nail polish—the colorless kind? A lot of the boys use that.”
“I’m sure it must look adorable on them,” she said. “No, I haven’t anything but rose-colored polish. Would that be of any use to you, heaven forbid?”
“No,” he said, and he seemed worried. “Red wouldn’t be any good at all. Hell, I don’t suppose you’ve got a Blitz Cloth, have you? Or a Shine-O?”
“If I had the faintest idea what you were talking about,” she said, “I might be better company for you.”
He held the belt out toward her. “I want to shine my buckle,” he said.
“Oh . . . my . . . dear . . . sweet . . . gentle . . . Lord,” she said. “We’ve got about ten minutes left, and you want to shine your belt buckle.”
“I don’t like to report to a new C.O. with a dull belt buckle,” he said.
“It was bright enough for you to report to your wife in, wasn’t it?” she said.
“Oh, stop that,” he said. “You just won’t understand, that’s all.”
“It isn’t that I won’t understand,” she said. “It’s that I can’t remember. I haven’t been with a Boy Scout for so long.”
He looked at her. “You’re being great, aren’t you?” he said. He looked around the room. “There must be a cloth around somewhere—oh, this will do.” He caught up a pretty little cocktail napkin from the table of untouched bottles and glasses, sat down with his belt laid over his knees, and rubbed at the buckle.
She watched him for a moment, then rushed over to him and grasped his arm.
“Please,” she said. “Please, I didn’t mean it, Steve.”
“Please let me do this, will you?” he said. He wrenched his arm from her hand and went on with his polishing.
“You tell me I won’t understand!” she cried. “You won’t understand anything about anybody else. Except those crazy pilots.”
“They’re all right!” he said. “They’re fine kids. They’re going to make great fighters.” He went on rubbing at his buckle.
“Oh, I know it!” she said. “You know I know it. I don’t mean it when I say things against them. How would I dare to mean it? They’re risking their lives and their sight and their sanity, they’re giving everything for——”
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