My Sister's Hand in Mine (24 page)

“Please,” said Miss Goering. “Look, you've insulted him. What a shame; because neither one of you cares about this sort of thing at all! What nasty little devil got into you both?”

“I don't think he has very good manners, and he is clearly not the type of man I would expect to find you associating with.”

Miss Goering was a little peeved with Arnold's father, but instead of saying anything to him she went over to Andy and consoled him.

“Please don't mind him,” she said. “He's really a delightful old thing and quite poetic. It's just that he's been through some radical changes in his life, all in the last few days, and I guess he's feeling the strain now.”

“Poetic is he?” Andy snapped at her. “He's a pompous old monkey. That's what he is.” Andy was really very angry.

“No,” said Miss Goering, “he is not a pompous old monkey.”

Andy finished his drink and swaggered over to Arnold's father with his hands in his pockets.

“You're a pompous old monkey!” he said to him. “A pompous old good-for-nothing monkey!”

Arnold's father slid out of his seat with his eyes cast downward and walked towards the door.

Miss Goering, who had overheard Andy's remark, hurried after him, but she whispered to Andy as she passed him, that she intended to come right back.

When they were outside they leaned together against a lamp post. Miss Goering cold see that Arnold's father was trembling.

“I have never in my life encountered such rudeness,” he said. “That man is worse than a gutter puppy.”

“Well, I wouldn't worry about it,” said Miss Goering. “He was just ill-tempered.”

“Ill-tempered?” said Arnold's father. “He's the kind of cheaply dressed brute that is more and more thickly populating the world today.”

“Oh, come,” said Miss Goering, “that is neither here nor there.”

Arnold's father looked at Miss Goering. Her face was very lovely on this particular evening, and he sighed with regret. “I suppose,” he said, “that you are deeply disappointed in me in your own particular way, and that you are able to have respect in your heart for him while you are unable to find it within that very same heart for me. Human nature is mysterious and very beautiful, but remember that there are certain infallible signs that I, as an older man, have learned to recognize. I would not trust that man too far. I love you, my dear, with all my heart, you know.”

Miss Goering stood in silence.

“You are very close to me,” he said after a little while, squeezing her hand.

“Well,” she said, “would you care to step back into the saloon or do you feel that you've had enough?”

“It would be literally impossible for me to return to that saloon even should I have the slightest desire to. I think I had better go along. You won't come with me, will you, my dear?”

“I'm very sorry,” said Miss Goering, “but unfortunately this was a previous engagement. Would you like me to walk down to the basket-ball court? Perhaps Arnold will have wearied of his game by this time. If not, you can easily sit and watch the players for a little while.”

“Yes, that would be very kind of you,” said Arnold's father, in such a sad voice that he almost broke Miss Goering's heart.

Very shortly they arrived at the basket-ball court. Things had changed quite a bit. Most of the small boys had dropped out of the game and a great many young men and women had taken the place of both the small boys and the guards. The women were screaming with laughter and quite a large crowd had gathered to watch the players. After Miss Goering and Arnold's father had stood there for a minute they realized that Arnold himself was the cause of most of the merriment. He had removed his coat and his sweater and, to their surprise, they saw that he was still wearing his pajama top. He had pulled it outside of his pants in order to appear more ridiculous. They watched him run across the court with the ball in his arms roaring like a lion. When he arrived at a strategic position, however, instead of passing the ball on to another member of his team he merely dropped it on the court between his feet and proceeded to butt one of his opponents in the stomach like a goat. The crowd roared with laughter. The uniformed guards were particularly delighted because it was a pleasant and unexpected break in the night's routine. They were all standing in a row, smiling very broadly.

“I shall try and see if I can find a chair for you,” said Miss Goering. She returned shortly and led Arnold's father to a folding chair that one of the guards had obligingly set up right outside of the ticket office. Arnold's father sat down and yawned.

“Good-by,” said Miss Goering. “Good-by, darling, and wait here until Arnold has finished his game.”

“But wait a moment,” said Arnold's father. “When will you return to the island?”

“I might not return,” she said. “I might not return right away, but I will see that Miss Gamelon receives enough money to manage the house and the food.”

“But I must certainly see you. This is not a very human way to make a departure.”

“Well, come along a minute,” said Miss Goering, taking hold of his hand and pulling him with difficulty through the crowd over to the sidewalk.

Arnold's father remonstrated that he would not return to the saloon for a million dollars.

“I'm not taking you to the saloon. Don't be silly,” she said. “Now, do you see that ice-cream parlor across the street?” She pointed to a little white store almost directly opposite them. “If I don't come back, which is very probable, will you meet me there on Sunday morning? That will be in eight days, at eleven o'clock in the morning.

“I will be there in eight days,” said Arnold's father.

*   *   *

When she returned with Andy to his apartment that night, she noticed that there were three long-stemmed roses on a table next to the couch.

“Why, what lovely flowers!” she exclaimed. “This reminds me that my mother had once the loveliest garden for miles around her. She won many prizes with her roses.”

“Well,” said Andy, “no one in my family ever won a prize with a rose, but I bought these for you in case you came.”

“I'm deeply touched,” said Miss Goering.

*   *   *

Miss Goering had been living with Andy for eight days. He was still very nervous and tense, but he seemed on the whole to be much more optimistic. To Miss Goering's surprise, he had begun on the second day to talk of the business possibilities in town. He surprised her very much too by knowing the names of the leading families of the community and moreover by being familiar with certain details concerning their private lives. On Saturday night he had announced to Miss Goering his intention of having a business conference the next morning with Mr. Bellamy, Mr. Schlaegel, and Mr. Dockerty. These men controlled most of the real estate not only in the town itself but in several neighboring towns. Besides these interests they also had a good many of the farms of the surrounding country. He was terribly excited when he told her his plans, which were mainly to sell the buildings he owned in the city, for which he had already been offered a small sum, and buy a share in their business.

“They're the three smartest men in town,” he said, “but they're not gangsters at all. They come from the finest families here and I think it would be nice for you too.”

“That is not the kind of thing that interests me in the least,” said Miss Goering.

“Well, naturally, I wouldn't expect it to interest you or me,” said Andy, “but you've got to admit we're living in the world, unless we want to behave like crazy kids or escaped lunatics or something like that.”

For several days it had been quite clear to Miss Goering that Andy was no longer thinking of himself as a bum. This would have pleased her greatly had she been interested in reforming her friends, but unfortunately she was only interested in the course that she was following in order to attain her own salvation. She was fond of Andy, but during the last two nights she had felt an urge to leave him. This was also very much due to the fact that an unfamiliar person had begun to frequent the bar.

This newcomer was of almost mammoth proportions, and both times that she had seen him he had been wearing a tremendous black overcoat well cut and obviously made of very expensive material. She had seen his face only fleetingly once or twice, but what she had seen of it had so frightened her that she had been able to think of very little else for two days now.

This man, they had noticed, drove up to the saloon in a very beautiful big automobile that resembled more a hearse than a private car. Miss Goering had examined it one day when the man was drinking in the saloon. It appeared to be almost brand-new. She and Andy had looked in through the window and had been a little surprised to see a lot of dirty clothes on the floor. Miss Goering was completely preoccupied now with what course to take should the newcomer be willing to make her his mistress for a little while. She was almost sure that he would, because several times she had caught him looking at her in a certain way which she had learned to recognize. Her only hope was that he would disappear before she had the chance to approach him. If he did, she would be exempt and thus able to fritter away some more time with Andy, who now seemed so devoid of anything sinister that she was beginning to scrap with him about small things the way one does with a younger brother.

On Sunday morning Miss Goering woke up to find Andy in his shirt sleeves, dusting off some small tables in the living-room.

“What is it?” she asked him. “Why are you bustling around like a bride?”

“Don't you remember?” he asked, looking hurt. “Today is the big day—the day of the conference. They are coming here bright and early, all three of them. They live like robins, those business men. Couldn't you,” he asked her, “couldn't you do something about making this room prettier? You see, they've all got wives, and even if they probably couldn't tell you what the hell they've got in their living-rooms, their wives have all got plenty of money to spend on little ornaments and their eyes are probably used to a certain amount of fuss.”

“Well, this room is so hideous, Andy, I don't see that anything would do it any good.”

“Yes, I guess it's a pretty bad room. I never used to notice it much.” Andy put on a navy-blue suit and combed his hair very neatly, rubbing in a little brilliantine. Then he paced up and down the living-room floor with his hands in his hip pockets. The sun was pouring in through the window, and the radiator was whistling in an annoying manner while it overheated the room as it had done constantly since Miss Goering had arrived.

Mr. Bellamy, Mr. Schlaegel, and Mr. Dockerty had received Andy's note and were on their way up the stairs, having accepted the appointment more out of curiosity and from an old habit of never letting anything slip by than because they actually believed that their visit would prove fruitful. When they smelled the terrible stench of the cheap cooking in the halls, they put their hands over their mouths in order not to laugh too loudly and performed a little mock pantomime of retreating towards the staircase again. They really didn't care very much, however, because it was Sunday and they preferred being together than with their families, so they proceeded to knock on Andy's door. Andy quickly wiped his hands because they were sweaty and ran to open the door. He stood in the doorway and shook hands with each man vigorously before inviting them to come in.

“I'm Andrew McLane,” he said to them, “and I'm sorry that we have not met before.” He ushered them into the room and all three of them realized at once that it was going to be abominably hot. Mr. Dockerty, the most agressive of the three men, turned to Andy.

“Would you mind opening the window, fellow?” he said in a loud voice. “It's boiling in here.”

“Oh,” said Andy blushing, “I should have thought of it.” He went over and opened the windows.

“How do you stand it, fellow?” said Mr. Dockerty. “You trying to hatch something in here?”

The three men stood in a little group near the couch and pulled out some cigars, which they examined together and discussed for a minute.

“Two of us are going to sit on this couch, fellow,” said Mr. Dockerty, “and Mr. Schlaegel can sit here on this little armchair. Now where are you going to sit?”

Mr. Dockerty had decided almost immediately that Andy was a complete boob and was taking matters into his own hands. This so disconcerted Andy that he stood and stared at the three men without saying a word.

“Come,” said Mr. Dockerty, carrying a chair out of a corner of the room and setting it down near the couch, “come, you sit here.”

Andy sat down in silence and played with his fingers.

“Tell me,” said Mr. Bellamy, who was a little more soft-spoken and genteel than the other two. “Tell me how long you have been living here.”

“I have been living here two years,” said Andy listlessly.

The three men thought about this for a little while.

“Well,” said Mr. Bellamy, “and tell us what you have done in these three years.”

“Two years,” said Andy.

Andy had prepared quite a long story to tell them because he had suspected that they might question him a bit about his personal life in order to make certain what kind of man they were dealing with, and he had decided that it would not be wise to admit that he had done absolutely nothing in the past two years. But he had imagined that the meeting was to be conducted on a much more friendly basis. He had supposed that the men would be delighted to have found someone who was willing to put a little money into their business, and would be more than anxious to believe that he was an upright, hard-working citizen. Now, however, he felt that he was being cross-questioned and made a fool of. He could barely control his desire to bolt out of the room.