The Cider House Rules (30 page)

'Doctor Larch?' Homer said. I'm sorry.' When there was no response, Homer thought crossly to himself that Dr. Larch was under an unusually ill-timed ether sedation.

I'm sorry, and I love you,' Homer added a little louder. He held his breath, listening for Larch's breathing, which he couldn't hear; alarmed, he stepped around the cabinets and saw the lifeless stationm aster stretched out on Larch's bed. It did not occur to Homer that this had been the first time someone had said 'I love you' to the stationmaster.

There'd been no better place to put him. Nurse Edna and Nurse Angela had moved him out of the operating room. It would have been cruel to expect one of the abortion patients to tolerate his presence, or to put him alongside the expectant mother, and certainly it would have been upsetting to the orphans if the stationmaster had been stretched out on one of the dormitory beds.

'Goddamn it,' Homer said.

'What's that?' Larch asked. He was carrying; Curly Day and calling to Homer from the dispensary door.

'Nothing,' Homer Wells said. 'Nevermind.' {244}

'Curly's been having a very bad day,' Dr. Larch explained.

That's too bad, Curly,' Homer said.

'Someone's come here to adopt someone,' Curly said. 'They're sort of
shopping.'

'I don't think so, Curly,' Dr. Larch said.

Tell them I'm the best one, okay, Homer?' Curly asked.

'Right,' said Homer Wells. 'You're the best.'

'Wilbur!' Nurse Edna was calling. She and Nurse Angela were chattering at the hospital entrance door.

They traipsed out to see what was going on: the doctor, his unwilling apprentice, and the next-to-oldest orphan in the boys' division.

There was a small but busy crowd around the Cadillac. The trunk was open and the handsome young man was dispensing presents to the orphans.

'Sorry it's not the season for apples, kids,' Wally was saying. 'Or cider. You could all use a little cider!' he said cheerfully, handing out the jars of honey, the crab-apple and apple-cider jelly. The eager, dirty hands were grabbing. Mary Agnes Cork, the next-to-oldest orphan in the girls' division, was getting more than her share. (Melony had taught her how to dominate the front of a line.) Mary Agnes was a popular name with Mrs. Grogan, and Cork was the county in Ireland where Mrs. Grogan had been born. There'd been a number of little Corks in the girls' division.

There's plenty to go around!' Wally said optimistically, as Mary Agnes put two honeys and one crabapple down her blouse—then reached for more. A boy named Smoky Fields had opened his jar of apple-cider jelly and was eating it out of the jar with his hand. 'It's really good on toast, in the morning,' Wally said cautiously, but Smoky Fields stared at Wally as if toast was not a regular item on his diet or reliably available in the morning. Smoky Fields intended to finish the jar of jelly on the spot. Mary Agnes spied a horn-rim barrette on the {245} convertible's back seat—it was one that Candy had put aside. Mary Agnes turned to face Candy, then dropped a second jar of the crab-apple jelly at Candy's feet

'Oops,' Candy said, bending to pick up the jelly for her while Mary Agnes stole the barrette—little John Walsh observing her deft moves, admiringly. A trace of blood, or maybe rust, on Mary Agnes's bare shin caught Candy's eye and made her feel queasy; she needed to restrain herself from wetting her finger and trying to rub the streak away. When she stood up and handed the girl her jar of jelly, Candy felt a little dizzy. Some grown-ups were coming out of the hospital entrance, and their presence helped Candy compose herself: I've not come here to play with children, she thought.

'I'm Doctor Larch,' the old man was saying to Wally, who seemed transfixed by the determination with which Smoky Fields was devouring the jarful of apple-cider jelly.

'Wally Worthington,' Wally said, pumping Dr. Larch's hand, handing him a jar of Ira Titcomb's honey. 'Fresh from Ocean View Orchards. That's in Heart's Rock, but we're very near the coast—we're in Heart's Haven, almost.'

'Heart's Haven?' said Wilbur Larch, examining the honey. A sea breeze seemed to spring off the boy—as distinctive, Larch thought, as fresh, crisp hundred-dollar bills. Whose face was on a hundred-dollar bill? Larch tried to imagine.

'Tell her,' Curly Day said to Homer Wells, pointing to Candy, but there was no need to point. Homer Wells had seen her, and only her, from the moment he emerged from the hospital entrance. Young Copperfield clung to her leg, but this didn't seem to impede her gracefulness —and nothing could interfere with her radiance. 'Tell her I'm the best one,' Curly said to Homer.

'Hello,' Candy said to Homer because he was the tallest person present; he was as tall as Wally. I'm Candy Kendall,' she said to him. I hope we're not interrupting {246} anything.' You are interrupting two abortions, one birth, one death, two autopsies, and an argument, thought Homer Wells, but all he said was, 'He's the best one.' Too mechanically! thought Curly Day. He lacks conviction!

'Me,' Curly said, stepping between them. 'He means me. I'm the best.'

Candy bent over Curly and ruffled his sticky hair. 'Of course you are!' she said brightly. And straightening up, she said to Homer, 'And do you work here? Or are you one of…' Was it polite to say
them?
she wondered.

'Not exactly,' Homer mumbled, thinking: I work here, inexactly, and I am inexactly one of them.

'His name's Homer Wells,' Curly told Candy, since Homer had failed to introduce himself. 'He's too old to adopt.'

'I can see that!' Candy said, feelingshy. I should be talking to the doctor, she thought awkwardly; she was irritated with Wally for creating such a crowd.

'I'm in the apple business,' Wally was saying to Dr. Larch. 'It's my father's business. Actually,' he added, 'my mother's business.'

What does this fool want? thought Wilbur Larch.

'Oh, I love apples!' Nurse Edna said.

'I would have brought lots of apples,' Wally said, 'but it's the wrong time of year. You should have your own apples.' He indicated the barren hillside stretching behind them. 'Look at that hill,' he said. 'It's washing away. You ought to plant it. I could even get you the trees. In six or seven years, you'd have your own apples; you'd have apples for more than a hundred years.'

What do I want with a hundred years of apples? thought Wilbur Larch.

'Wouldn't that be pretty, Wilbur?' Nurse Edna asked.

'And you could get your own cider press,' Wally suggested. 'Give the kids fresh apples and fresh cider—they'd have lots to do.'

They don't need things to
do,
thought Dr. Larch. They need pi aces to
go!
{247}

They're from some charity, thought Nurse Angela cautiously. She put her lips close to Dr. Larch's ear and whispered, 'A sizable donation,' just so Dr. Larch wouldn't be rude to them.

They're too young to give their money away, thought Wilbur Larch.

'Bees!' Wally was saying. 'You should keep bees, too. Fascinating for the kids, and a lot safer than most people think. Have your own honey, and give the kids an education—bees are a model society, a lesson in teamwork!'

Oh shut up, Wally, Candy was thinking, although she understood why he couldn't stop babbling. He was unused to an environment he couldn't instantly brighten; he was unused to a place so despairing that it ins isted on silence. He was unused to absorbing a shock, to simply taking it in. Wally's talk-a-mile-a-minute style was a good-hearted effort; he believed in improving the world—lie had to fix everything, to make everything better.

Dr. Larch looked around at the children stuffing themselves with honey and jelly. Have they come here to play with the orphans for a day and to make everyone sick? he wondered. He should have looked at Candy; then he would have known why they were there. He was not good at looking in women's eyes, Wilbur Larch; he had seen too much of them under the harsh lights. Nurse Angela at times wondered if Dr. Larch even knew how he tended to overlook women; she wondered if this was an occupational hazard among obstetricians, or if men with a tendency to overlook women were drawn to the obstetrical field.

Homer Wells did not overlook women; he looked right into their eyes, which might have been why. Nurse Angela thought, he seemed to find their position in the stirrups so troubling. Funny, she thought, how he has seen everything that Dr. Larch does, yet he will not watch me or Nurse Edna shave anyone. He was so ada-{248} mant in arguing with Dr. Larch about shaving the women for abortions. It wasn't necessary, Homer always said, and the women surely didn't
like
to be shaved.

'Like
it?' Dr. Larch would say. 'Am I in the
entertainment
business?'

Candy felt helpless; no one seemed to understand why she was standing there. Children were colliding with her at hip level, and this awkward, darkly handsome young man, who was surely her own age but seemed somehow older…was she supposed to tell
him
why she'd come to St. Cloud's? Couldn't anyone tell just by looking at her? Then Homer Wells looked at her in that way; their eyes met. Candy thought that he had seen her many times before, that he'd watched her grow up, had seen her naked, had even observed the act responsible for the particular trouble she was now presenting for cure. It was shattering to Homer to recognize in the expression of the beautiful stranger he had fallen in love with something as familiar and pitiable as another unwanted pregnancy.

'I think you'd be more comfortable inside,' he murmured to her.

'Yes, thank you,' Candy said, not able to look in his eyes now.

Larch, seeing the girl walk toward the hospital entrance—recognizing that deliberate way of walking that predictably happens to someone who's watching her own feet—thought suddenly, Oh, it's just another abortion, that's all this is about. He turned to follow the girl and Homer, just as Smoky Fields finished the jar of jelly and began to eat a jar of honey. Smoky ate with no apparent satisfaction; but he ate so methodically that even when he was jostled by a nearby orphan, he never took his eyes from his little paw as it scooped its way into the jar. When he was severely jostled, a kind of growl— or gurgle—caught in his throat, and he hunched his shoulders forward as if to protect the jar from other predators.

Homer led the way to Nurse Angela's office; at the {249} threshold he saw the dead baby's hands reaching above the edge of the white enamel examining tray, which still rested on Nurse Angela's typewriter. The baby's hands were still waiting for the ball, but Homer's reflexes were quick enough; he turned full circle in the doorway, pushing Candy back into the hall. This is Doctor Larch,' Homer said to Candy, introducing them while he herded them down the hall to the dispensary. Wilbur Larch did not remember that there was a dead baby on top of the typewriter in Nurse Angela's office.

He said crossly to Homer, 'Shouldn't we let Miss Kendall sit down?' He didn't remember that the dead stationmaster was in the dispensary, either, and when he saw the moron's muddy shoes, he pulled Homer aside and whispered harshly to him. 'Have you no feeling for this poor girl?' Homer whispered back that he thought the partial view of a dead man was preferable to the whole view of a dead baby.

'Oh,'Wilbur Larch said.

'I'll deliver the woman from Damariscotta,' Homer added to Dr. Larch, still whispering.

'Well, don't be in too big a hurry,' Larch whispered.

'I mean I won't have anything to do with
this
one,' Homer whispered back, looking at Candy. 'I won't even look at her, do you understand?'

Dr. Larch regarded the young woman. He thought he understood, a little. She was a very pretty young woman, even Dr. Larch could see that, and he'd not seen Homer so agitated in anyone's presence before. Homer fancies he's in love! thought Dr. Larch. Or he fancies that he'd like to be. Have I been utterly insensitive? Larch wondered. Is the boy still enough of a boy to need to romanticize women? Or is he enough of a man to desire to
romance
women, too?

Wally was introducing himself to Homer Wells. Wilbur Larch thought, Here's the one with apples for brains; why is
he
whispering? It didn't occur to Dr. Larch that Wally thought, by his partial view of the {250} stationmaster, that the stationmaster was asleep.

'If I could have just a moment's peace with Miss Kendall,' said Wilbur Larch, 'we can all meet each other another time. Edna will assist me with Miss Kendall, please, and Angela—would you help Homer with the Damariscotta woman?
Homer,'
Dr. Larch explained to Wally and to Candy, 'is a very accomplished
midwife.'

'You
are?'
Wally said to Homer enthusiasically. 'Wow.'

Homer Wells maintained silence. Nurse Angela, bristling at the word 'midwife'—at the condescension she quite correctly heard in Dr. Larch's tone—touched Homer's arm very gently and said to him, 'I'll give you a count of the contractions.' Nurse Edna, whose uncritical love for Dr. Larch beamed forth ever brightly, cheerfully pointed out that various people had to be moved both from and to various beds if a room was to be made ready for Candy.

'Please do it, then,' Dr. Larch said. 'If I could just have a moment alone with Miss Kendall,' he repeated, but he saw that Homer seemed riveted; Homer was unaware that he was staring at Candy. The boy has gone gaga on me, thought Wilbur Larch, and he saw no indication that Apple Brains intended to leave the dispensary. 'If I could just explain a little of the process to Miss Kendall,' Wilbur Larch said to Wally (it appeared hopeless to address Homer). I'd like her to know about the bleeding, later—for example,' Larch added, intending that the word 'bleedinG' would have some effect on Wally's apple-bright complexion. It did—perhaps in combination with the overpowering atmosphere of ether in the dispensary.

'Is someone going to
cut
her?' he asked Homer pathetically; Homer caught Wally's arm and pulled him abruptly away. He pulled him so quickly along the hall and got him outdoors so fast that Wally almost escaped being sick at all. As it was, completely owing to Homer's good reflexes, Wally didn't throw up until the two of {251} them were behind the boys' division—on the pa.rticular hillside Wally had suggested planting with apple trees, the very hillside where Homer Wells's shadow had only recently outdistanced Dr. Larch's.