Stern Men (38 page)

“Babe Wishnell’s daughter.”

“That little girl?”

“I guess so. Excuse me, ma’am, but is that a duckling you’re holding?”

“This is a chick, love. Oh, it’s awful soft.” The woman grinned at Ruth, and Ruth grinned back.

“Well, then, thank you for your help,” Ruth said. She headed up the street to the house that was green and found her way back to the wedding.

As she stepped into the tent, a hot, dry hand caught her by the arm. She said, “Hey!” It was Cal Cooley.

“Mr. Ellis wants to see you,” he said, and before she could protest, Cal led her over to Mr. Ellis. Ruth had forgotten that he was coming to the wedding, but there he was, sitting in his wheelchair. He grinned up at her, and Ruth, who had been doing a lot of grinning lately, grinned back. Good God, he was thin. He couldn’t have weighed a hundred and ten pounds, and he’d once been a tall, strong man. His head was a bald, yellow globe, burnished as the head of a well-used cane. He had no eyebrows. He wore an ancient black suit with silver buttons. Ruth was astonished, as always, at how poorly he had aged compared with his sister, Miss Vera. Miss Vera liked to affect frailty, but she was perfectly hale. Miss Vera was little, but she was sturdy as firewood. Her brother was a wisp. Ruth couldn’t believe, when she’d seen him earlier in the spring, that he’d made the trip to Fort Niles this year from Concord. And now she could not believe that he had made the trip from Fort Niles to Courne Haven for the wedding. He was ninety-four years old.

“It’s nice to see you, Mr. Ellis,” she said.

“Miss Thomas,” he replied, “you look well. Your hair is very pretty away from your face.” He squinted up at her with his rheumy blue eyes. He was holding her hand. “You will have a seat?”

She took a deep breath and sat down on a wooden folding chair beside him. He let go of her. She wondered whether she smelled of whiskey. One had to sit awfully close to Mr. Ellis so that he could hear and be heard, and she didn’t want her breath to give her away.

“My granddaughter!” he said, and smiled a wide smile that threatened to crack his skin.

“Mr. Ellis.”

“I can’t hear you, Miss Thomas.”

“I said, Hello, Mr. Ellis. Hello, Mr. Ellis”

“You haven’t been to see me in some time.”

“Not since I came over with Senator Simon and Webster Pommeroy.” Ruth had some difficulty enunciating the words
Senator
and
Simon.
Mr. Ellis did not seem to notice. “But I’ve been meaning to come by. I’ve been busy. I’ll come up to Ellis House very soon and see you.”

“We shall have a meal.”

“Thank you. That’s very nice, Mr. Ellis.”

“Yes. You’ll come on Thursday. Next Thursday.”

“Thank you. I look forward to it.”
Thursday!

“You haven’t told me how you found your visit to Concord.”

“It was lovely, thank you. Thank you for encouraging me to go.”

“Wonderful. I received a letter from my sister saying as much. It might not be amiss for you to write her a note thanking her for her hospitality.”

“I will,” Ruth said, not even wondering how he knew that she hadn’t done so. Mr. Ellis always knew things like that. Of course she would write a note, now that it had been suggested. And when she did write, Mr. Ellis would undoubtedly know of it even before his sister received the note. That was his way: omniscience. Mr. Ellis dug around in a pocket of his suit and came up with a handkerchief. He unfolded it and passed it, with a palsied hand, across his nose. “What do you suppose will come of your mother when my sister passes away?” he asked. “I ask only because Mr. Cooley raised the question the other day.”

Ruth’s stomach tightened as if it had been cinched.
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
She thought for a moment and then said what she certainly would not have said had she not been drinking.

“I only hope she will be taken care of, sir.”

“Come again?”

Ruth did not reply. She was quite sure that Mr. Ellis had heard her. Indeed he had, because he finally said, “It is very expensive to take care of people.”

Ruth was as uncomfortable as ever with Lanford Ellis. She never had a sense, when meeting with him, what the outcome would be: what he would tell her to do, what he would withhold from her, what he would give her. It had been this way since she was a child of eight and Mr. Ellis had called her into his study, handed her a stack of books, and said, “Read these in the order I have placed them, from top to bottom. You are to stop swimming in the quarries with the Pommeroy boys unless you wear a bathing suit.” There had never been an implication of threat in these instructions. They were simply issued.

Ruth followed Mr. Ellis’s commands because she knew the power this man had over her mother. He had more power over her mother than Miss Vera did, because he controlled the family money. Miss Vera exercised her control over Mary Smith-Ellis Thomas in petty daily cruelties. Mr. Ellis, on the other hand, had never once treated Ruth’s mother in a cruel way. Ruth was aware of this. For some reason, this knowledge had always filled her with panic, not peace. And so, at the age of eight, Ruth read the books Mr. Ellis had given her. She did as she was told. He had not quizzed her on the books or asked her to return them. She did not acquire a bathing suit for her swims in the quarries with the Pommeroy boys; she merely stopped swimming with them. That seemed to have been an acceptable solution, because she heard no more about it.

Meetings with Mr. Ellis were also significant because they were rare. He called Ruth into his presence only twice a year or so, and began each conversation with an expression of fondness. He would then chastise her lightly for not coming to visit him on her own. He called her
granddaughter, love, dear.
She was aware, and had been from early childhood, that she was considered his pet and was therefore lucky. There were others on Fort Niles—grown men, even—who would have liked an audience with Mr. Ellis even once, but could not obtain one. Senator Simon Addams, for instance, had been trying for years to meet with him. Ruth was thought by many on Fort Niles to have some special influence with the man, though she scarcely ever saw him. For the most part, she heard of his requests and demands and displeasure or pleasure from Cal Cooley. When she did see Mr. Ellis, his instructions to her were usually simple and direct.

When Ruth was thirteen, he had summoned her to tell her that she would be attending private school in Delaware. He said nothing of how or why this was to be or whose decision it had been. Nor did he ask her opinion. He did say that her schooling was expensive but would be taken care of. He told her that Cal Cooley would drive her to school in early September and that she would be expected to spend her Christmas holiday with her mother in Concord. She would not return to Fort Niles until the following June. These were facts, not matters for discussion.

On a less momentous matter, Mr. Ellis summoned Ruth when she was sixteen to say that she was to wear her hair away from her face from now on. That was his only instruction to her for the year. And she followed it and had been doing so ever since, wearing it in a ponytail. He apparently approved.

Mr. Ellis was one of the only adults in Ruth’s life who had never called her stubborn. This was surely because, in his presence, she was not.

She wondered whether he was going to tell her not to drink anymore tonight. Was that the point of this? Would he tell her to stop dancing like a trollop? Or was this something bigger, an announcement that it was time for her to go to college? Or move to Concord with her mother? Ruth wanted to hear none of these things.

In general, she avoided Mr. Ellis strenuously because she was terrified of what he would ask of her and of the certainty that she would obey. She had not yet heard directly from Mr. Ellis what her plans for the fall were to be, but she had a strong sense that she would be asked to leave Fort Niles. Cal Cooley had indicated that Mr. Ellis wanted her to go to college, and Vera Ellis had mentioned the college for women where the dean was a friend. Ruth was sure the subject would come up soon. She had even got a message about leaving from Pastor Wishnell, of all people, and the signs pointed to a decision soon from Mr. Ellis himself. There was nothing Ruth hated more in her character than her unquestioning obedience of Mr. Ellis. And while she had made up her mind that she would disregard his wishes from now on, she didn’t feel up to asserting her independence tonight.

“How have you been spending your days lately, Ruth?” Mr. Ellis asked.

Wanting no instructions from him at all tonight, Ruth decided to divert him. This was a new tactic, a bold tactic. But she had been drinking and, as a consequence, felt bolder than usual.

“Mr. Ellis,” she said, “do you remember the elephant tusk we brought you?”

He nodded.

“Have you had a chance to look at it?”

He nodded again. “Very well,” he said. “I understand you have been spending a great deal of your time with Mrs. Pommeroy and her sisters.”

“Mr. Ellis,” Ruth said, “I wonder whether we can talk about that elephant tusk. For just a moment.”

That’s right. She would be the one to direct this conversation. How hard could that be? She certainly did it with everyone else. Mr. Ellis raised an eyebrow. That is to say, he raised the skin below where an eyebrow would be if he happened to have an eyebrow.

“It took my friend several years to find that tusk, Mr. Ellis. That young man, Webster Pommeroy, he’s the one who found it. He worked hard. And my other friend, Senator Simon?” Ruth pronounced the name this time without a hitch. She felt dead sober now. “Senator Simon Addams? You know him?”

Mr. Ellis did not respond. He found his handkerchief again and made another pass at his nose.

Ruth went on. “He has many interesting artifacts, Mr. Ellis. Simon Addams has been collecting unusual specimens for years. He would like to open a museum on Fort Niles. To display what he has collected. He’d call it the Fort Niles Museum of Natural History and believes that the Ellis Granite Company Store building would be suitable for his museum. Since it is vacant. Perhaps you’ve heard about this idea? I think he has asked your permission for years . . . I think he . . . It may not seem like an interesting project to you, but it would mean everything to him, and he is a good man. Also, he would like the elephant tusk back. For his museum. If he can have a museum, that is.”

Mr. Ellis sat in his wheelchair with his hands on his thighs. His thighs were not much wider than his wrists. Under his suit jacket, he wore a thick, black sweater. He reached into an inside pocket of his suit and pulled out a small brass key, which he held between his thumb and forefinger. It trembled like a divining rod. Handing it to Ruth, he said, “Here is the key to the Ellis Granite Company Store building.”

Ruth gingerly took the key. It was cool and sharp and could not have been a greater surprise. She said, “Oh!” She was astonished.

“Mr. Cooley will bring the elephant tusk to your house next week.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ellis. I appreciate this. You don’t have to—”

“You will join me for dinner on Thursday.”

“I will. Yes. Terrific. Should I tell Simon Addams . . . Um, what shall I tell Simon Addams about the building?”

But Mr. Ellis was finished talking to Ruth Thomas. He shut his eyes and ignored her, and she went away.

 

Ruth Thomas went to the other side of the tent, as far as she could get from Mr. Ellis. She felt sober and a little sick, so she made a quick stop at the card table that served as a bar and had Chucky Strachan mix her another glass of whiskey and ice. Between Pastor Wishnell and Mr. Ellis, this had been a day of strange conversations, and now she was wishing that she had stayed home with the Senator and Webster Pommeroy. She found a chair in the corner, behind the band, and claimed it. When she put her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands, she could hear her pulse in her head. At the sound of applause, she looked up. A man in his mid-sixties, with a blond-gray brush haircut and the face of an old soldier, was standing in the middle of the tent, a champagne glass raised in his hand. It was Babe Wishnell.

“My daughter!” he said. “Today is my daughter’s wedding, and I’d like to say some words!”

There was more applause. Somebody shouted, “Go to it, Babe!” and everyone laughed.

“My daughter isn’t marrying the best-looking man on Courne Haven, but, then, it isn’t legal to marry her father! Charlie Burden? Where’s Charlie Burden?”

The groom stood up, looking agonized.

“You got yourself a good Wishnell girl today, Charlie!” Babe Wishnell bellowed; more applause. Somebody shouted, “Go get her, Charlie!” and Babe Wishnell glared in the direction of the voice. The laughter stopped.

But then he shrugged and said, “My daughter’s a modest girl. When she was a teenager, she was so modest, she wouldn’t even walk over a potato patch. You know why? Because potatoes have eyes! They might have looked up her skirt!”

Here, he pantomimed a girl, daintily lifting her skirts. He fluttered his hand about in a feminine way. The crowd laughed. The bride, holding her daughter on her lap, blushed.

“My new son-in-law reminds me of Cape Cod. I mean, his nose reminds me of Cape Cod. Does anyone know why his nose reminds me of Cape Cod? Because it’s a prominent projection!” Babe Wishnell roared at his own joke. “Charlie, I’m just playing with you. You can sit down now, Charlie. Let’s have a hand for Charlie. He’s a pretty goddamn good sport. Now, these two are going on a honeymoon. They’re going to Boston for the week. I hope they have a good time.”

More applause, and the same voice shouted, “Go get her, Charlie!” This time Babe Wishnell ignored the voice.

“I hope they have a hell of a good time. They deserve it. Especially Dotty, because she’s had a tough year, losing her husband. So I hope you have a hell of a good time, Charlie and Dotty.” He raised his glass. The guests murmured and raised their glasses, too. “Good for them to get away for a while,” Babe Wishnell said. “Leaving the kid with Dotty’s mother and me, but what the hell. We like the kid. Hiya, kid!”