Spring Fire (12 page)

Leda said, "We get along all right."

Jan lit a cigarette and stuck the end into a long ivory holder. "I do like the other girls," she said. "I thought you'd probably get yourself all graduated before I could get down here and see your sorority house and meet everyone. Dwight is hell about traveling. I told you I went to Louisville by myself for the fabric show, and he just stayed behind. He
hates
to travel."

Leda had met Dwight during the summer. He was a fat, greasy man with a stubby cigar, wet on the end, hanging there from his mouth, and his head thinly covered with single strands of black hair that began inches back from his high forehead. On his little finger he wore a huge diamond ring, and there was a sweet, sickly smell of cologne and tobacco about him. Dwight was a big man in fabrics and Jan worked with him. She would come home and open the door and Leda would hear his voice behind Jan's, and then the shaking of the cocktail mixer and the ice cubes, the low music on the phonograph and Jan's laughter ringing through the rooms. He had looked at Leda and shown his brown teeth and he'd said, "Well, now, by God. An apple never falls far from the tree!"

"You going to marry Dwight?" Leda asked.

Jan inhaled and let the smoke come out in tiny round clouds. "I don't know. I'd never have to worry where my next thousand is coming from. He hasn't asked me yet, you know."

Glancing at her watch, Leda said, "Maybe we better go downstairs. It's almost time for dinner. Fish tonight."

"Hell!" Jan swore. "I abhor fish! Member Ted Thorpton? Member the way he used to drag me around to those damn fish houses for lobster Newburg? I think you came along a couple of times too, honey. You member? Washington? Member that place we went down a gangplank to get to and there was sawdust on the floor and that ungodly fishy odor?"

Leda nodded. She remembered.

* * *

Robin Maurer put the arm back in its cradle and left the phone booth. Lucifer was leaning against the brick wall of the dorm reading the newspaper.

"Any luck?" he said.

"No, it's too late for tonight. She says she's got some kind of a special date with a guy named Charlie. No telling what that sorority has thought up. She's probably going off to smoke opium someplace."

"Why didn't you ask her to join us? Her and that Charlie horse?"

"I did. She said she couldn't She said it was a special night. Who knows?"

"Did you tell her the party was right across the street at Delta Pi? Maybe she's lazy. Maybe she thought it was someplace she'd have to hike to."

"No," Robin said, pulling a leaf off the tree as they passed down the walk from Main Dorm. "I think she might have a good date or something and wants to be alone with him. Then too, maybe the Tri Eps forbade her to be seen with an old reprobate like me." They turned the corner and kicked the leaves while they walked. "Tell me something, Luke," she said, "honestly."

"Sure."

"How about your fraternity brothers? Don't they give you a bad time because you date me? I know how independents go over in Greek Town."

Lucifer reached over for her hand and swung it back and forth while they walked along. "Naw," he said, "not at our house. We ain't rich and we don't know anyone who is. We ditched the rule book a long time ago. That's how come I got in. You know, I'm pure Indian, with a little Russian on my mother's side, and a little Chinese on my father's. Seriously, Robbie, it ain't that way at the house. Sure, we got eager beavers with all kinds of fool notions, but none of them go into effect. I couldn't stomach it"

"I wish Mitch would get out of Tri Ep. I have a feeling she's not going to stomach it either. The whole crowd's too fast"

"How about that Leda?" Lucifer whistled. "Wooooo-owwww!"

* * *

The candles were lighted on the tables in the Tri Ep dining room. At the head table, Leda and Jan sat opposite Mother Nessy, and Marsha sat beside her. Above the other voices singing out, Mitch could hear Kitten Clark's lively soprano. Nessy tapped on her glass, giving the signal to eat Mitch sat at a side table in the back of the room Her fork stabbed at the thin pieces of white fish, and pushed them in the mashed potatoes before she raised the fork to her mouth and swallowed the tasteless concoction. She thought of calling Robin back and telling her that Charlie and she would meet them after all, but then she could not. It was all planned. She would pick him up in the car at eight-thirty. They would have to be alone, Mitch knew, or it would never work. The food felt heavy in her stomach, and she took each bite with a long sip of water. Casey sat across from her, still talking about the swimming team, encouraging Mitch to join it

"You were terrific the other day," she said. "With enough practice you could develop fast." "I'll come over again on Monday," Mitch told her.

Through the maze of faces, Mitch saw Leda look at her and then away. She heard Jan's voice, louder than any other, and the inevitable laughter following what she said. Mitch wondered if she ever said anything you were not supposed to laugh at.

"How's your backstroke? That's what we need. Someone with a neat backstroke."

"I'll have to get more time in. It used to be my best stroke."

"Say, wasn't that Robin Maurer on the phone?"

"Yes."

The others at the table looked up, interested. "I thought I recognized her voice," Casey said. "How is she?"

"Pretty good. She's living at the dorm."

"Too bad about Robin," Casey sighed. "She just wasn't sorority material."

It was during dessert, when they sang the "Sweetheart Song," that Mitch could feel Leda's eyes watching her. Heat poured through Mitch, and there was a light yearning in her breasts that seeped through the rest of her body and warmed her.

"Tri Epsilon is a sisterhood
 Of love that lasts forever,
 Where memories are golden ones
That are forgotten never!
"Tri Epsilon, Tri Epsilon,
 For her name we will strive
 So long as we are sisters,
 So long as we're alive."

Marsha led the applause, and then, rising and standing at her place at the head table, she waited for the room to quiet down. "Remember," she said, "closing hours are at one tonight because of the game tomorrow. That's an extra half hour, so don't anyone be late. And now I think we all ought to say good-by to Mrs. Taylor. She's leaving us tomorrow, and I know we've all enjoyed her visit." Marsha hummed the note. The words sounded sad and heartfelt.

"Won't you come back? We'll miss you.
 Will you remember our love?
Good-by, good luck, we'll miss you,
 We send our prayer for you above.
 Will you remember our love?"

Jane Bell jumped up and started a round of "For She's a Jolly Good Fellow." The smile was glued on Jan's face, and Mitch could hear her saying, "Lovely, simply lovely," all the while. Mitch wondered if her mother would have said that and if they would have sung to her. And what her mother would 'have thought if she were alive and knew what Mitch was planning. She pushed her chair back with the others while Mother Nessy rose regally and took Marsha's arm, to be led from the dining room.

"Why don't you stay for more coffee?" Casey said to Mitch.

Mitch explained that she had an early date. She swallowed what was there in her cup, and hurried upstairs to dress before Leda and Jan returned to the room. They were going out with Jake for the evening. Jan thought it would be "a perfect riot."

* * *

The car kicked up the gravel when it left the drive and spun around the corner. Mitch was not used to driving at night, but she knew the town well now. She turned on the radio and a lusty torch song sang out at her. The streets were not very crowded, and passing through Greek Town, Mitch saw the lights in other houses, shining and showing the figures of boys and girls moving in the large rooms. As she came near the campus, she admired the long walks, well lighted, and the great oak trees bordering the walks, and a few solitary figures strolling along them. The traffic increased as she approached the main street, and went fast down to the light. After she left it she stopped again a few blocks down in front of the drugstore. Charlie was waiting there. He had a neat black-and-gray checked sports coat and gray pants, and under his arm a paper bag. When he saw her pull up, he grinned and hurried toward the car.

"Hi," he called. "Right on time."

He opened the door and moved in next to her. As they drove out toward the Creek Road, he said, "I got the bottle. You know, it'll be fun. We've got a real moon, too. Did you remember the blankets?"

Mitch nodded and motioned toward the back seat, where the brown blankets were folded beside the bottles of ginger ale and the opener.

"I brought sandwiches too," Charlie said. "Had Doc make some up for me. Say, this was a swell idea. How'd you ever think of it?"

The husky crooner sang out on the radio and a tenor saxophone chimed in and gave the music a soothing air. Mitch put her foot down harder on the gas pedal.

* * *

It was one of those clear, brisk November nights and the ground was hard and cold when they sat down.

"I got rye," Charlie said. "Supposed to be easier on you. I'm not much of a drinker, myself."

Mitch spread one blanket on the ground while Charlie dragged the other over and the bottles of ginger ale. He took paper cups from the bag with the liquor bottle inside, and pried the tops off the bottles. Pouring two drinks, he set them on the ground beside Mitch.

"My first time out here, he said after he sipped his drink. "You ever been out here before?"

"No," Mitch said, remembering the last time. "No."

The air felt good on her face, and from the car a few feet away Mitch could hear the lush tones of a low piano. Above them hung a round moon the way it looks in November. She thought of Leda, and leaning back until her head touched the blanket, she closed her eyes and pictured it again.
You aren't going to just stand there? I couldn't love you if you were a Lesbian.

With her hand supporting her head like that, she could hear the steady tick-tick of her wrist watch. He was beside her, talking and filling the paper cups with fresh drinks, then reaching for her hand. She turned toward 'him, and they kissed. She could hear him sigh, "Susan," in the breaking away, holding her. His heart was beating very fast. They kissed again, and this time Mitch tried to imagine Leda and for a moment she could feel her lips until the roughness of his cheeks brushed against hers. She drank her third drink straight down.

"Do you want to know something?" he said. His voice sounded strange and falsely hallowed. Mitch felt an impulse to smile. She knew what he would say. "I love you, Susan. I do, no kidding."

In the near distance Mitch could hear the announcer: "United States Weather Bureau forecast for Cranston and vicinity: Ten p.m. temperature, forty-five degrees; humidity, fifty per cent Barometer, two nine point nine nine, rising. Tonight clear becoming cloudy toward morning. . ."

Charlie's hand climbed from her waist until it touched her breast and then drew back sharply. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry, Susan."

"Don't be," Mitch said, and then, "I love you too
— Charlie."

He was gentle and kind. There was a slow awkwardness to his kisses, and his hands came on her almost apologetically, fumbling, his voice mumbling, "Susan," over and over, and the stiffness to his body. When he found her, she said, "Charlie, let's move to the car."

They left the blanket and the bottles, and as he pushed the seat back for her, he pressed the tab of the radio off. Sitting on the leather seat he put his arm around her and held her there, his lips touching her neck, wet and hot on her skin. "Gee," he kept saying. "Oh, gee, Susan. Is it all right? Should we
—"

Mitch was afraid because it still was not the way it was with Leda. It was empty and aimless. He was sweet and shy and he loved her. If it was not now, then when? When ever? She reached out and touched his hair, a cheated feeling inside of her when her hand touched his ears and his neck and there was no hair there. "Do
you
want to?" she said. "Do you really want to?"

He could barely talk. His voice was a thick whisper. "Gosh," he said. "Oh, yes. I do. Listen, Susan, I've never touched a girl. Honestly, never once in my life. I
—I have something in my wallet. Look, I know what you must think because I have it with me, but I swear—I swear that I just always carry it and I never thought—"

Mitch said, "I know. It's all right."

She lay down on the leather seat, cramped, so that her feet came off the end. Charlie was kneeling on the floor of the car, and, kneeling like that, he began to kiss her again, and pull at her sweater, until he had it open and the hooks undone.

For a long time he kissed her, and the open windows let the breeze in.

"Susan," he kept muttering. "Susan, I really love you. I really love you, Susan."

"I know," she said. "I know you do."

"You're cold," he said. "I can feel you're cold when I touch you."

Mitch felt the chill through her whole body. "Hurry," she said. "Please hurry."

His hands clutched her desperately, and he began to whine in a strange way. After a moment he sat back on the floor.

"I can't," he said. "I can't"

"It's all right Charlie. I told you it was all right I'll put my sweater on. Then I won't be cold and you won't have to hurry and
—"

"No," he whispered. "No. I just
—can't."

His shoulders shook violently as he began to cry.

Mitch dressed while he sat there. She got out of the car and went over to the ground where the blankets were. When she came back with them, he was sitting up on the seat in the back, staring down at the floor.

"Charlie
—" Mitch began.

He shook his head and did not look at her. "I want to go home," he said. "Just drop me off when we get back in town."

"I'm sorry. I
— Was it me?"

"I don't want to talk about it! I don't want to ever talk about it!"

She put the blankets down beside him and got into the front seat. When they were off the dirt road and on the highway, she snapped the radio on again. Through the mirror, she could see his figure slumped over, his hands holding his chin, his eyes fixed on the side window. When they reached town, he got out of the car and did not look back.