My Sister's Hand in Mine (11 page)

“Let's go and say hello to Mrs. Quill.”

“All right, but she has been in a terrible humor all the day, crying a lot and not eating anything.”

“What on earth is the matter?”

“She had some fight, I think, with her boy friend. He don't like her. I tell her this but she won't listen.”

“But the first thing she told me was that sex didn't interest her.”

“To go to bed she don't care so much, but she is terribly sentimental, like she was sixteen years old. I feel sorry to see an old woman making such a fool.”

Pacifica was still wearing her bedroom slippers. They went past the bar, which was filled with men smoking cigars and drinking.

“My God! how in one minute they make a place stink,” said Pacifica. “I wish I could go and have a nice little house with a garden somewhere.”

“I'm going to live here, Pacifica, and we'll all have lots of fun.”

“The time for fun is over,” said Pacifica gloomily.

“You'll feel better after we've all had a drink,” said Mrs. Copperfield.

They knocked on Mrs. Quill's door.

They heard her moving about in her room and rattling some papers. Then she came to the door and opened it. Mrs. Copperfield noticed that she looked weaker than usual.

“Do come in,” she said to them, “although I have nothing to offer you. You can sit down for a while.”

Pacifica nudged Mrs. Copperfield. Mrs. Quill went back to her chair and took up a handful of bills which had been lying on the table near her.

“I must look over these. You will excuse me, but they're terribly important.”

Pacifica turned to Mrs. Copperfield and talked softly.

“She can't even see them, because she does not have her glasses on. She is behaving like a child. Now she will be mad at us because her boy friend, like she calls him, has left her alone. I will not be treated like a dog very long.”

Mrs. Quill overheard what Pacifica was saying, and reddened. She turned to Mrs. Copperfield.

“Do you still intend to come and live in this hotel?” she asked her.

“Yes,” said Mrs. Copperfield buoyantly, “I wouldn't live anywhere else for the world. Even if you do growl at me.”

“You probably will not find it comfortable enough.”

“Don't growl at Copperfield,” put in Pacifica. “First, she's been away for two days, and second, she doesn't know, like I do, what you are like.”

“I'll thank you to keep your common little mouth shut,” retorted Mrs. Quill, shuffling the bills rapidly.

“I am sorry to have disturbed you, Mrs. Quill,” said Pacifica, rising to her feet and going towards the door.

“I wasn't yelling at Copperfield, I just said that I didn't think she would be comfortable here.” Mrs. Quill laid down the bills. “Do you think she would be comfortable here, Pacifica?”

“A common little thing does not know anything about these questions,” answered Pacifica and she left the room, leaving Mrs. Copperfield behind with Mrs. Quill.

Mrs. Quill took some keys from the top of her dresser and motioned to Mrs. Copperfield to follow her. They walked through some halls and up a flight of stairs and Mrs. Quill opened the door of one of the rooms.

“Is it near Pacifica's?” asked Mrs. Copperfield.

Mrs. Quill without answering led her back through the halls and stopped near Pacifica's room.

“This is dearer,” said Mrs. Quill, “but it's near Miss Pacifica's room if that's your pleasure and you can stand the noise.”

“What noise?”

“She'll start yammering away and heaving things around the minute she wakes up in the morning. It don't affect her any. She's tough. She hasn't got a nerve in her body.”

“Mrs. Quill—”

“Yes.”

“Could you have someone bring me a bottle of gin to my room?”

“I think I can do that.… Well, I hope you are comfortable.” Mrs. Quill walked away. “I'll have your bag sent up,” she said, looking over her shoulder.

Mrs. Copperfield was appalled at the turn of events.

“I thought,” she said to herself, “that they would go on the way they were forever. Now I must be patient and wait until everything is all right again. The longer I live, the less I can foresee anything.” She lay down on the bed, put her knees up, and held onto her ankles with her hands.

“Be gay … be gay … be gay,” she sang, rocking back and forth on the bed. There was a knock on the door and a man in a striped sweater entered the room without waiting for an answer to his knock.

“You ask for a bottle of gin?” he said.

“I certainly did—hooray!”

“And here's a suitcase. I'm putting it down here.”

Mrs. Copperfield paid him and he left.

“Now,” she said, jumping off the bed, “now for a little spot of gin to chase my troubles away. There just isn't any other way that's as good. At a certain point gin takes everything off your hands and you flop around like a little baby. Tonight I want to be a little baby.” She took a hookerful, and shortly after that another. The third one she drank more slowly.

The brown shutters of her window were wide open and a small wind was bringing the smell of frying fat into the room. She went over to the window and looked down into the alleyway which separated the Hotel de las Palmas from a group of shacks.

There was an old lady seated in a chair in the alleyway eating her dinner.

“Eat every bit of it!” Mrs. Copperfield said. The old lady looked up dreamily, but she did not answer.

Mrs. Copperfield put her hand over her heart.
“Le bonheur,”
she whispered, “
le bonheur
 … what an angel a happy moment is—and how nice not to have to struggle too much for inner peace! I know that I shall enjoy certain moments of gaiety, willy-nilly. No one among my friends speaks any longer of character—and what interests us most, certainly, is finding out what we are like.”

“Copperfield!” Pacifica burst into the room. Her hair was messy and she seemed to be out of breath. “Come on downstairs and have some fun. Maybe they are not the kind of men you like to be with, but if you don't like them you just walk away. Put some rouge on your face. Can I have some of your gin, please?”

“But a moment ago you said the time for fun was over!”

“What the hell!”

“By all means what the hell,” said Mrs. Copperfield. “That's music to anyone's ears.… If you could only stop me from thinking, always, Pacifica.”

“You don't want to stop thinking. The more you can think, the more you are better than the other fellow. Thank your God that you can think.”

Downstairs in the bar Mrs. Copperfield was introduced to three or four men.

“This man is Lou,” said Pacifica, pulling out a stool from under the bar and making her sit next to him.

Lou was small and over forty. He wore a light-weight gray suit that was too tight for him, a blue shirt, and a straw hat.

“She wants to stop thinking,” said Pacifica to Lou.

“Who wants to stop thinking?” asked Lou.

“Copperfield. The little girl who is sitting on a stool, you big boob.”

“Boob yourself. You're gettin' just like one of them New York girls,” said Lou.

“Take me to Nueva York, take me to Nueva York,” said Pacifica, bouncing up and down on her stool.

Mrs. Copperfield was shocked to see Pacifica behaving in this kittenish manner.

“Remember the belly buttons,” said Lou to Pacifica.

“The belly buttons! The belly buttons!” Pacifica threw up her arms and screeched with delight.

“What about the belly buttons?” asked Mrs. Copperfield.

“Don't you think those two are the funniest words in the whole world? Belly and button—belly and button—in Spanish it is only
ombligo.
”

“I don't think anything's
that
funny. But you like to laugh, so go ahead and laugh,” said Lou, who made no attempt to talk to Mrs. Copperfield at all.

Mrs. Copperfield pulled at his sleeve. “Where do you come from?” she asked him.

“Pittsburgh.”

“I don't know anything about Pittsburgh,” said Mrs. Copperfield. But Lou was already turning his eyes in Pacifica's direction.

“Belly button,” he said suddenly without changing his expression. This time Pacifica did not laugh. She did not seem to have heard him. She was standing up on the rail of the bar waving her arms in an agitated and officious manner.

“Well, well,” she said, “I see that nobody has yet bought for Copperfield a drink. Am I with grown men or little boys? No, no … Pacifica will find other friends.” She started to climb down from the bar, commanding Mrs. Copperfield to follow her. In the meantime she knocked off the hat of the man who was seated next to her with her elbow.

“Toby,” she said to him, “you ought to be ashamed.” Toby had a sleepy fat face and a broken nose. He was dressed in a dark brown heavy-weight suit.

“What? Did you want a drink?”

“Of course I wanted a drink.” Pacifica's eyes were flashing.

Everyone was served and she settled back on her stool. “Come on now,” she said, “what are we going to sing?”

“I'm a monotone,” said Lou.

“Singing ain't in my line,” said Toby.

They were all surprised to see Mrs. Copperfield throw her head back as though filled with a sudden feeling of exaltation and start to sing.

“Who cares if the sky cares to fall into the sea

Who cares what banks fail in Yonkers

As long as you've got the kiss that conquers

Why should I care?

Life is one long jubilee

As long as I care for you

And you care for me.”

“Good, fine … now another one,” said Pacifica in a snappy voice.

“Did you ever sing in a club?” Lou asked Mrs. Copperfield. Her cheeks were very red.

“Actually, I didn't. But when I was in the mood, I used to sing very loudly at a table in a restaurant and attract a good bit of attention.”

“You wasn't such good friends with Pacifica the last time I was in Colon.”

“My dear man, I wasn't here. I was in Paris, I suppose.”

“She didn't tell me you were in Paris. Are you a screwball or were you really in Paris?”

“I was in Paris.… After all, stranger things have happened.”

“Then you're fancy?”

“What do you mean, fancy?”

“Fancy is what fancy does.”

“Well, if you care to be mysterious it's your right, but the word ‘fancy' doesn't mean a thing to me.”

“Hey,” said Lou to Pacifica, “is she tryin' to be highhat with me?”

“No, she's very intelligent. She's not like you.”

For the first time Mrs. Copperfield sensed that Pacifica was proud of her. She realized that all this time Pacifica had been waiting to show her to her friends and she was not so sure that she was pleased. Lou turned to Mrs. Copperfield again.

“I'm sorry, Duchess. Pacifica says you got something on the ball and that I shouldn't address myself to you.”

Mrs. Copperfield was bored with Lou, so she jumped down and went and stood between Toby and Pacifica. Toby was talking in a thick low voice with Pacifica.

“I'm tellin' you if she gets a singer in here and paints the place up a little she could make a lot of money on the joint. Everybody knows it's a good place to hit the hay in, but there ain't no music. You're here, you got a lot of friends, you got a way with you.…”

“Toby, I don't want to start with music and a lot of friends. I'm quiet.…”

“Yeah, you're quiet. This week you're quiet and maybe next week you won't want to be so quiet.”

“I don't change my mind like that, Toby. I have a boy friend. I don't want to live in here much longer, you know.”

“But you're livin' here now.”

“Yes.”

“Well, you want to make a little money. I'm tellin' you, with a little money we could fix up the joint.”

“But why must I be here?”

“Because you got contacts.”

“I never saw such a man. Talking all the time about business.”

“You're not such a bad one for business yourself. I saw you hustlin' up a drink for that pal of yours. You get your cut, don't you?”

Pacifica kicked Toby with her heel.

“Listen, Pacifica, I like to have fun. But I can't see somethin' that could be coinin' the money takin' in petty cash.”

“Stop being so busy.” Pacifica pushed his hat off his head. He realized there was nothing to be done and sighed.

“How's Emma?” he asked her listlessly.

“Emma? I have not seen her since that night on the boat. She looked so gorgeous dressed up like a sailor.”

“Women look fantastic dressed up in men's clothes,” put in Mrs. Copperfield with enthusiasm.

“That's what you think,” said Toby. “They look better to me in ruffles.”

“She was only talking for a
minute
they look nice,” said Pacifica.

“Not for me,” said Toby.

“All right, Toby, maybe not for you, but for her they look nice that way.”

“I still think I'm right. It ain't only a matter of opinion.”

“Well, you can't prove it mathematically,” said Mrs. Copperfield. Toby looked at her with no interest in his face.

“What about Emma?” said Pacifica. “You are really not interested finally in somebody?”

“You asked me to talk about somethin' besides business, so I asked you about Emma, just to show how sociable I am. We both know her. We were on a party together. Ain't that the right thing to do? How's Emma, how's your momma and poppa. That's the kind of talk you like. Next I tell you how my family is gettin' along and maybe I bring in another friend who we both forgot we knew, and then we say prices are goin' up and comes the revolution and we all eat strawberries. Prices are goin' up fast and that's why I wanted you to cash in on this joint.”