Never Love a Stranger (22 page)
It was then I really got homesick. Here I was in a town I had lived in all my life and not a familiar face around to talk to. I was miserable. I walked around until I came to a hotel and then went in and sat down in the writing-room and began to write a letter.
Dear Uncle Morris, Aunt Bertha, Irene and Essie,
I just wanted to drop you a line to let you know I am well and hope you are the
same. I especially hope that Uncle Morris is getting better. I am sorry if I have caused you any worry because I ran away, but I couldn’t stay in that place any more, not after living with you. I have been in good health all the time and have been working. I hope some day soon, when I am old enough not to have to go back to the orphanage, to be able to again live with you. Until then I do not want you to worry as I have enough of everything, including money.
All my love to you and I hope you are well.
Frankie.
Looking down at the letter, I got a bright idea. I took the letter and went up to the bank and got a cheque for the whole balance in my account. I put it in the letter and mailed it to them. Then I turned and went back to my ship feeling better. There was nothing more I wanted from New York.
But all that had happened almost two years before. Now I was out, and I was going to Arizona to join them. I left the bus in downtown San Diego, went directly to the hotel, and registered. Then, even before I went up to my room, I went over to the telegraph desk.
The girl came over with a blank telegraph form and a pencil. I leaned over the counter and began to write, smiling to myself. Things certainly were going to be O.K. from now on. I was going home and I had two hundred bucks in my pocket.
Mr. Morris Cain, 221 Lincoln Drive, Tuscon, Arizona. Dear Uncle Morris—
Received my discharge from the Navy today. Would like to join you immediately. Expect to leave here at end of week. Will let you know what day to expect me. Am eager to see all of you.
Love,
Frank.
I went upstairs with the boy who showed me my room. Quickly I emptied my duffel bag into the dresser and went downstairs. I went over to the desk clerk and asked him a good place to buy some clothes. He sent me to a chain-store clothier over on Grand Avenue. I picked up three good suits at nineteen dollars each. He promised to have them for me in a few days. I told him to rush them through, and he said he would have them for me Saturday, the day after New Year’s. Then I went next door to a haberdasher and bought about six shirts at a dollar and a quarter apiece. Some underwear, socks, and ties rounded out my wardrobe. I bought a small valise for six bucks and went back to the hotel. Now, I thought to myself, I was ready to go as soon as the clothes would get here.
The few days dragged by. I spent New Year’s Eve and almost the whole day in my room. The hotel had several parties going on the whole of the night, and I could hear them through the closed doors of the room. Oddly enough, I didn’t feel out of things. I had too many things to think about. I could imagine how happy they all were when they received my telegram, how eagerly they awaited my coming. I bet I wouldn’t know the kids any more. They must be young ladies by now.
The next day I went down and picked up my suits. I took off my uniform and donned
It was a telegram from Tucson. I didn’t open it there; I was too excited. They had answered me, I thought. I was so nervous that I hurried up to my room to read it. As soon as I was inside the door I opened it.
A copy of my wire had been enclosed; attached to it was a note. It read: “Your telegram of December 30th, 1931, attached has not been delivered for the following reason.” Then there was a list of reasons. Next to one, a pencil check had been inserted. “Moved from this address, forwarding address not known.”
For a moment I didn’t understand it. I sank into a chair, my hopes gone up in smoke. For a minute or two I just sat there, too upset to feel anything. I didn’t know what to do next. I never thought they would have left without notifying me. But I realized they couldn’t. They never knew where I was. Again that feeling of being alone came over me— a feeling of being lost, abandoned without hope. The street noises came in through the closed window. I heard a woman’s laugh in the hall. The room seemed to close in on me. I lit cigarette after cigarette. The air became filled with smoke. I don’t know how long I sat there in the armchair, but when I looked up it was dark outside. Slowly I got up and looked out the window. The lights were on all over the city. I walked around the room aimlessly. I couldn’t seem to fix my mind on anything.
I went downstairs into the dining-room. I ordered something to eat—and didn’t eat it. I left the dining-room after paying my check, and went out into the lounge. I sat there for a while just looking at the people, not seeing them. I wasn’t thinking, just in a sort of stupid vacuum. I saw the telegraph desk. I got up and walked over to it. The girl sitting there looked up.
I took the telegram out of my pocket. “Do you know anything about this?” I asked her. She looked at it. “No, Mr. Kane. As soon as I received it I sent it over to the desk.”
“Do you think they could be wrong?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “They check these things very carefully.” “Thanks,” I said, walking away, leaving the girl looking after me thoughtfully.
Next to the Western Union desk was a flight of steps leading up to the telephone lounge. It was less crowded there than in the lobby, so I went up there. I didn’t want to be entirely alone, yet I didn’t want to be down there in the midst of all those people. I couldn’t explain it. I sat down on the chair next to one of the phone booths. I had been sitting there about a half an hour when the girl from the telegraph desk came up. I watched her go into the booth next to me. The door closed. I didn’t hear a coin drop into the machine, or hear any conversation. A few minutes later she came out. She stopped in the doorway and acted surprised to see me sitting there. She smiled at me. I nodded back politely; I didn’t feel much like smiling.
She took a cigarette from her purse. “How about a light, Mr. Kane?” she said, smiling. Pretty obvious! I didn’t care. I took a match from my pocket, lit it, and held it towards
her. She sat down next to me. I moved over to make room for her on the seat. “Thanks,” she said.
“It’s O.K.,” I told her.
“New clothes?” she asked me.
“What?” I asked. For a moment I didn’t know what she meant. Then I nodded. “Just got them today.”
“How do you like being out of the Navy?” she asked. “It’s all right, I guess,” I answered.
“Kind of at loose ends, I suppose.” She looked interested. “That’s right,” I said. “I’ll have to get used to it.”
“Too bad, about the telegram, I mean,” she said sympathetically.
“I should have expected it,” I said. I was beginning to feel better. She was the first person in this damn place to seem interested in me. I looked at her. She was a nice- looking girl: black hair, blue eyes, a trim, neat figure. I smiled at her. “I don’t want to burden you with my woes,” I said. “It’s nice enough of you to be interested as it is.”
“Oh, I don’t mind really,” she said. “I’ve got a close relative in the Navy, and I often wonder how he would feel if he were out.”
“I guess it’s not too bad,” I said, “if you could only make up your mind as to what you want to do.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
I lit a cigarette over that one. What was I going to do? I didn’t know—I hadn’t thought about it. “I don’t know, honestly,” I said. “Get a job, I guess.”
“Anything special?”
“No, just anything that comes along,” I replied.
“Jobs are pretty hard to get right now,” she told me.
“I don’t know,” I said confidently. “I’ve never had much trouble getting one.”
For a while we sat there not talking. Then she got to her feet. “I guess I’ve got to go,” she said. “It’s getting kind of late and I might as well get home for supper.”
I looked up at her. “Why don’t you call home and tell them you’re going out for the evening? I mean why not go out with me? I don’t mean to be fresh, but maybe we could go out and you could show me the town. I don’t know the place too well.”
She smiled down at me. “That’s nice of you to ask me, Mr. Kane. But I really have to go home.”
The hell she did! She had to, like I had to. I played along with her. “Please come,” I asked her. “I’d appreciate it very much. You don’t know how lonely you can get to feel in a strange town.”
She pretended to deliberate a moment. “All right,” she said, “I’ll go with you, Mr. Kane.
But first I have to call home, Mr. Kane.” I took the hint. “Frank, to you.”
“All right then, Frank.” She smiled. “My name’s Helen.”
Helen went into the phone booth. I sat there waiting. Again she didn’t make any phone call. I laughed to myself.
We went down to some night club where they had a pretty good show. We ate and
had a few drinks. I never drank very much, but this time I didn’t care. I was getting pretty high. We danced and drank and danced and drank, and pretty soon it was nearly two o’clock in the morning. We left the cabaret and I hailed a taxi.
“I’ll take you home,” I said.
“I can’t go home like this,” she said, giggling. “My father would be sore as hell.” “Where are you going to stay?” I asked her.
“At the hotel,” she said. “I often do when I work late.”
We got into the cab. “The Berkeley,” I told the driver. The cab started off. I was a little bit dizzy, but the fresh air from the windows of the car cleared my head. I sank back on the seat and looked at her. She was sitting in a corner of the cab. She gigged.
“What’s the matter?” I asked her. She giggled again. “I feel so silly.”
“Do you?” I asked, putting my arm around her and moving her over close to me. She pressed against me, not resisting me. I kissed her.
“Still feel silly?” I asked, and kissed her again. This time she kissed back. Her lips were burning flames.
“Not any more,” she said, pulling away. “You sure can kiss.”
“That isn’t all I can do,” I told her giddily. “I’ve got talent.” I kissed her again. Then I kissed her throat. She held me tightly. Suddenly she pushed me away.
“The hotel!” she whispered huskily. The cab was stopping in front of the hotel. I let her go. She straightened her clothes. We got out and I paid the cabby.
“Let’s go in,” I said, taking her by the arm.
She held back. “I can’t go in there with you. I’d get fired; we’re not supposed to mingle with the guests. I’d better say good night out here.”
I looked at her. Good night out here! Was she crazy? I didn’t go out like this and spend my good dough to say good night on the sidewalk. I looked again. She seemed O.K. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she was just going along to be nice to me. I shrugged my shoulders. “You sure you can get a room?” I asked her.
She nodded.
“O.K. then,” I said, “good night.” I turned and walked into the lobby. I was a little sore. The little teaser. But I started to laugh by the time I reached my room. At least she took my mind off my troubles.
I went into my room and took off my jacket and tie. I took out my wallet and counted my money. I had about a hundred and ten dollars left. I decided to pay up at the hotel tomorrow and go out and look for a cheap room. Then Monday I would go out and look for a job. I took off my shirt and went to the basin and washed up, then went back and sat on the edge of the bed smoking a cigarette. There was a knock at the door—a soft knock. I barely heard it. Quickly I stepped over to the table where I had left my money and put it in the dresser. Then I stepped over to the door and opened it.
Helen stood there. I looked at her. I didn’t show how surprised I felt. “Well,” she said, “aren’t you going to ask me in?”
“Oh, sure,” I mumbled, stepping back. “Come in.”
She came into the room. I shut the door. “I didn’t thank you for the good time we
had.”
“I should’ve thanked you,” I said politely. Hell, she didn’t come up here just to thank me! I reached up and clicked out the light on the wall. Only the bed lamp was lit now.
We stood there facing each other in the semi-darkness. I took a sudden step towards her. Instinctively she stepped back. I caught her hand and held her. “What’s the matter, baby?” I asked, pulling her close and kissing her.
“I’m afraid,” she said. “I never did this before.”
I
WOKE
up suddenly in the night. Something had stirred in the room. I put out my hand. Helen was gone. I sat up and jumped out of bed. I went over to the dresser and opened the drawer in which I had put my money. It was empty. I swore silently to myself as I dressed. All I had was the ten bucks that was in my pants pocket. I took a quick look at my watch as I hurried down the hall. It was nearly five o’clock. I took the elevator down.
I went over to the desk. “The telegraph operator around?” I asked. “No,” the night clerk answered. “Which one do you mean?”
“The day operator,” I said, “the one named Helen.”
“Oh, her,” he said. “She was only a relief operator. Here for day. The regular operator’s out sick. Is something wrong?”
Is something wrong? Plenty! I was cleaned. I still owed the hotel about twenty bucks and he asked me if something was wrong! “No,” I said. “I just thought of a wire I had to send. It’ll keep, though.”
I turned and went back to my room. At least it didn’t take me long to get cleaned. I had heard of sailors coming back and signing up a few days after their discharge because they were broke and had been taken for their dough—dough they had spent a whole hitch in getting—and I never could understand it. But it happened to me. I lit a cigarette while I thought over what I had to do next.