The Rebellion of Yale Marratt (88 page)

 

 

"Can't you stop it, Yale? Does it have to be printed?" Harry looked
helplessly at Peoples. "Pat Marratt would be subject to libel, wouldn't
he?"

 

 

Cynthia said: "Anne and I think he can stop it. But he won't." She looked
at Yale with tears in her eyes, and begged him again. "For God's sake,
Yale, don't you see what this will do to Harry?"

 

 

Harry said nothing while Anne and Cynthia continued to argue with Yale.
Yale insisted that if he refused to publish the advertisement Pat could
easily find some other way. The only hope was that Pat would withdraw
it voluntarily.

 

 

"That's not going to happen because I won't ask him, and I'm sure that
Harry won't," Yale had said. He told Harry that he was sorry.

 

 

Harry shrugged and said that sorrow would do him no good. When the
Marratt employees read Pat's advertisement he would be washed up in
Midhaven. Officials at his union's headquarters would be terribly
angry. Their only hope would be to denounce him and move fast to save
the strike. A new business representative would be sent to Midhaven.

 

 

Sarah listened impassively to Harry. She sighed. "All this trouble
because sometimes, in our own back yard, and in our own house, we didn't
wear clothes. We bother no one. This Jack Leonard, we haven't seen him
for years." Her face brightened as she remembered. "You were there,
Yale, and Mat Chilling. You remember. Ruthie and the boys were there,
too. Ruthie has four of her own now." Sarah smiled happily. "That was
the very last time we ever saw Jack Leonard. That was the day he told
us that he was a Communist."

 

 

"Listen, Sarah, you have been playing with fire," Yale told her.
"You and Harry have been doing unconsciously what I am doing consciously.
If I get burned, it will come as no surprise. But remember that I am
playing with new rules, and backed by the one thing the average man
respects in this country, money. I remember Mat Chilling telling you
that afternoon that you could have ideas different from the masses, and
maybe you could lead them, but on certain fundamentals such as sex and
nakedness you were either very circumspect or you were in trouble. For
most people in this country, educated as they are, nakedness and sex are
equivalently a dirty business. Pat has found your Achilles heel. Without
the power of money behind Challenge it could very well be mine.

 

 

"I'm sorry that at the moment Harry's neck is in the noose, but
the
Midhaven Herald
isn't the only way for Pat. If I stopped the
advertisement, Pat could have it run as a handbill, and probably do just
as good a job. Right now he is mad enough to try and pull the paper down
around my ears. Challenge is going to need the
Midhaven Herald
. I
bought it to get Peoples off the hook, but I can't let it drain the
foundation." Yale sighed. "I feel badly, Harry, that I can't figure out
any way to extricate you. At least by accepting the advertisement we can
attempt to counteract it. I have already discussed it with Peoples. We
will run a headline editorial on the front page. We'll try to show the
readers how they are being played upon emotionally. We'll honestly show
them how the half-true statements that Pat has made . . . the whole
emotional approach . . . has been done to inflame the public and create
prejudice and hatred. We'll tie the whole thing in with Challenge. Appeal
to their reason . . . and at the same time show the essential validity
of what we are trying to do." Yale patted Harry on the shoulder. "Cheer
up, Harry, I want you working for me, anyhow. You can do more for people
with the Challenge concepts than you ever could with unionism."

 

 

Harry's smile was sad. "It'll help you sell a lot more books, but it
won't do me any good, personally. I'm sorry for you, Yale. I like you,
but I don't believe in Challenge. I don't believe that man is God. I've
been raised a Jew. God is outside man. Some men may get close to God,
but man is not God. A feeling like this I cannot change."

 

 

Anne remembered that they had talked for a long time. Yale had been
obviously upset to find that Harry couldn't accept the Challenge
Commandments. Harry had underscored his feelings with a bright red line
when he told Yale that Yale was more interested in abstract principles
than the men who would be necessary to make the principles work.

 

 

"I have a feeling, Yale," Harry had said, in almost a whisper, "that if
it came to a choice between saving a friend and proving the validity of
your Commandments, you would sacrifice the friend."

 

 

Yale had demanded that he be more explicit.

 

 

Harry shrugged: "So far there's Paul Downing, young Jim Latham, Alfred
Latham. I understand that your father has had a heart attack. Have you
been to see him? He is your father."

 

 

Yale scowled at Harry and shook his head. "And now I have, as you put it,
'sacrificed' you, too."

 

 

Harry realized that Yale was deeply hurt. "Yale, my friend, I am afraid
that you are so dedicated to your mission in life that you have a blind
side. Anyone with a name like Cohen would be a hindrance to you. You are
going to have enough disapprobation without having a landslide of subtle
anti-semitism. No Jew so far as I know, since Christ, has dared to be
connected with a new religion."

 

 

When he was leaving he begged Yale to be careful. Harry patted Cynthia's
cheek fondly. "This little girl loves you too much . . . see that she
doesn't get hurt again." Anne knew that he was reminding Yale of the night
that Mat Chilling had brought Cynthia to his house. She wondered what
Cynthia thought about Harry's remarks that a Jew would be a hindrance
to Yale. Knowing Cynthia, and able to guess the silent, tortuous course
of her thinking, Anne suspected that Cynthia was troubled. Anne had put
her arm around her. She told Harry not to worry. No matter what their
crazy husband did, she and Cynthia would stick together.

 

 

Harry smiled at Anne and shook his head. "Two such lovely
beryeh
.
A lucky man, this Yale Marratt. Why should he wish to go around doing
mitzvahs for the world?"

 

 

It was the last time they saw Harry Cohen. The advertisement had been
published two weeks ago in the
Midhaven Herald
. Peoples had written
an excellent editorial. He explained that he had interviewed Harry Cohen
very thoroughly and while Harry admitted that Jack Leonard had been a
friend, Harry Cohen had had no idea of Leonard's political leanings.
Never had Harry Cohen in any way been associated with the Communist
Party. Peoples went to great length to explain the strong democratic
leanings of a man who had devoted his life to his friends and the
underpaid workers of Midhaven. Peoples did not attempt to deny that
Harry and his wife enjoyed the pleasure of their home and their back
yard, occasionally in the nude. He suggested that probably many Midhaven
families did the same. Certainly, there was nothing of sexual significance
in this. Peoples enjoined his readers to weigh Pat's charges carefully
in their own minds. He pointed out to the striking Marratt employees
that the absurd charges obviously did not affect Harry Cohen's acumen
as business representative of their union.

 

 

But reason seldom triumphed against emotion, Anne thought. The large black
type of Pat's advertisement shrieked its message of fear and hatred,
and in its simple virulence denied the quietly reasoned editorial that
Peopies had written.

 

 

Fuel was added to the fire by headline stories that appeared in the
out-of-town newspapers which circulated widely in Midhaven stating
that influential legislators were going to demand an investigation of
the Latham Shipyards coup as well as initiate a probe of the Challenge
Foundation. Knowing Yale Marratt had suddenly become a worse stigma for
Harry Cohen than his association with Jack Leonard.

 

 

They had no trouble finding Harry's house that night. The black sky
over Helltown was pink with the reflection of the holocaust. Anne
remembered the horror of forcing their way through the jeering crowd,
asking stony-faced people who recognized them if they knew where Harry
and Sarah Cohen were; all the time praying that they hadn't been trapped
in that inferno of flames.

 

 

Someone recognized Yale. In a few minutes it was generally known that
they were there. In the fire-lighted faces there was anger and distrust.
Thinking of it later Anne knew that they should have been forewarned
of worse to come. A groundswell of anger against Yale Marratt and his
wives was gathering momentum. She and Cynthia had finally received the
full impact of it the next day.

 

 

As they edged toward the fireline that had been drawn in front of the
house they heard nasty comments: "That's young Marratt. He's the one
that's screwin' up the works at Latham."

 

 

A heavy-built man grabbed Yale by the arm. "If that rat Cohen is getting
his ass fried, you and your two whores caused it. Why don't you get the
hell out of Midhaven? Go back to those heathen countries where you can
have a whole goddamned harem."

 

 

Yale wriggled out of his grasp, but the big man had followers equally as
verbose. One of them kept up an exceptionally filthy barrage on their
marital life, following them and taunting them. "You're a dirty rotten
man," he concluded incongruously. "You and your fuckin' Challenge stinks."

 

 

Yale located the chief of the Midhaven Fire Department, who told Yale
that when the fire engines had arrived the place was beyond saving. All
they were trying to do now was keep it from spreading. "If Cohen and
his wife didn't get out, they won't be nothing . . . not even a mess
of bones. Whoever started that little blaze must have gotten his arson
training in the U.S. Army. A very thorough job."

 

 

Yale continued to search but he couldn't find any trace of the Cohens.
When they got back home Peoples telephoned, and told him that he could
stop worrying. Harry and Sarah had packed up and gone to New York that
morning. Peoples told Yale that Pat Marratt, ostensibly recovered from
his heart attack, had been the last one to talk with Harry.

 

 

"Bert Walsh called me this morning," Peoples said. "Bert sounded quite
elated. Harry had admitted defeat. Bert said that they were as surprised
as hell to see Harry walk into the administration offices this morning
looking for Pat. Harry found Pat walking around the empty plant. Bert saw
them talking together for a few minutes, and then Harry left. When Bert
demanded to know what Harry was up to, he said that Pat had a strange
look on his face. He told Bert that the strike was over, and then he
said to Bert, 'Under other circumstances that son-of-a-gun and I might
have been good friends. I admire him, Bert Walsh. He has dignity, and
do you know something? He thinks my son is hell-on-wheels.'"

 

 

What Pat meant by hell-on-wheels remained a mystery. Liz had not come
back to the house, but Barbara had seen her occasionally and mentioned
that the subject of Yale Marratt was not for discussion. "He's made his
bed. Let him rot in it," was Liz's report of Pat's attitude.

 

 

But it was apparent that the vandals who had set fire to Harry Cohen's
home hoped that the Cohens were inside. Harry had left Midhaven without
saying goodbye to Yale. Nor had they heard from him since. Although he
claimed that it was inevitable, and what had happened to Harry was no
fault of his, Anne and Cynthia knew that Yale was deeply disturbed.

 

 

Anne noticed that Cynthia had turned half on her back, and was looking
across the bed in her direction with a troubled expression on her face.
She reached her hand across Yale's chest without waking him, and squeezed
Cynthia's hand. "Stop thinking about it, Cindar," she whispered. "It was
just a bad dream that you had. Nothing can touch our love for each other."

 

 

Cynthia smiled at her gratefully and returned the pressure of her grasp.
Yale stirred restlessly and continued to sleep. I love you, Anne, Cynthia
thought. I love the strength and lightheartedness that you manage to show
even when I know you are as frightened and terrified as I am. I accept
your tenderness and concern because I know that if the need arises for
you, you will turn to me. We are the equal halves of the arch that holds
the structure up. Cynthia grinned. Yale would like that idea.

 

 

But society wouldn't accept it. Cynthia wished that she could stop
worrying. She wondered how Yale could take so calmly that the day after
tomorrow he would be in a courtroom fighting for his right to live
with both of them. It was hopeless, she thought. The law couldn't be
denied. "A marriage contracted while either party thereto has a former
wife or husband living shall be void." It meant in reality that she wasn't
legally married to Yale, because she was the second wife. But did it
really matter? She remembered telling Yale once that she didn't care if
they were ever married, just so long as they could live together. What
was marriage anyway? A convenience for the state to assure the future
of its progeny. Looked at that way, wasn't this marriage a responsible
marriage? But would the three of them have the courage to insist on
their moral right as a higher right than the law of the land?

 

 

"As long as you want me," Yale said, "I will see that the three of us
stay together. I promise you that, Cindar. I'm not afraid or embarrassed
that we love each other. You've simply got to look upon this trial
as unavoidable. It's only the beginning. The world needs its thinking
shaken up a bit. Our morals, our ethics, and our religions have grown
musty and need a breath of fresh air."