Laura entered the penthouse and walked slowly back to the bedroom. It was hard to imagine Marcie’s mood. Marcie looked up from her bed, her hair in pincurls. She was a relief to Laura’s eyes after the stormy, ranting handsomeness of Beebo. Marcie looked beautiful, even with tin clips in her hair. But she looked cool, too; ready for a fight.
Laura slipped her jacket off without a word, thinking of the loud quarrels she and Beth used to have. And how they resolved them with love. A little curl of excitement twisted around her innards.
“Well?” Marcie said sharply. “Did he throw you down in the street?”
Laura was startled, offended. Marcie had no right to say such a thing. “What do you mean?” she said.
“Your dress,” Marcie said, nodding at it.
Laura looked down at it. Beebo had dragged it over the bathroom floor and the dirt, together with a hasty pressing job, made her look like she’d been through a scuffle. “Marcie,” she said, trying to control her voice, and not sure when she started talking what she was going to say, “Marcie, I didn’t sleep with Jack.”
Marcie turned her eyes down to the book she was holding, and her expression said, Tell me another one. “With who, then?” she said.
Laura pressed her lips together and sat down on Marcie’s bed. I won’t yell at her, she told herself. I can’t take the chance. I’d say the truth, I’d blurt it out by mistake. “Marcie, I just ended up down in the Village.”
“Did you wander around all night?”
“No. No.” She looked down at the floor. “Well, I—”
“You what?” Marcie looked at her.
“Marcie, I didn’t spend the night with Jack.” Her voice begged for understanding.
“Jack has friends.”
Even in her mounting irritation Laura sensed jealousy and it thrilled her. “Yes, Jack has friends. And they aren’t all men.”
“Don’t tell me you spent the night with a girl. Ha! That’s even better. You just hang around with anybody who’s handy, don’t you.”
“You aren’t very choosy yourself, Marcie.”
“Only with Burr!” Marcie flashed angrily. “I only sleep with Burr. And I was married to him. Besides, I haven’t let him touch me for weeks. You’ve never been married, not to Jack or anybody else.”
“And I’ve never slept with Jack or anybody else.”
“I don’t believe you!”
Laura stood up and looked down at her. “You don’t have to, Marcie,” she said. “What the hell do you care who I sleep with? Or why? Are you guardian of my morals? Yours aren’t perfect, you know. I haven’t slept with Jack, for your information. Not once. But if I had, what would it matter? You thought it was all a good joke at first.”
Marcie’s face began to color. She put her book down and looked diffidently at Laura, who was standing by her dresser taking off her clothes. Marcie ran her fingers over her lips, as if warning herself to shut up and Laura thought to herself, Just like me. Just like me when Beth used to taunt me. I wanted her so. And I was so afraid.
“I didn’t know it would get so serious, at first. With Jack,” Marcie said, her attitude softening. “I feel like it’s my fault, what you’re doing, and I—I feel real bad about it. I’m scared. Maybe you’ll get into trouble, maybe you’ll blame me then. You get so odd sometimes. I guess I’m just being selfish, Laur. But—” She gave an audible sigh that made Laura turn to glance at her. “Laur, will you tell me—will you please tell me—why you keep running out of here at all hours of the night? What am I doing wrong? If you don’t tell me, I’m going to move out of here tomorrow, I swear. I can’t stand it!”
Laura had to tell her something. She had to lie and she couldn’t lie and as she walked toward Marcie’s bed, she felt something like panic at the thought of losing her. But when she sat down beside her something popped into her head and saved her. She didn’t have to stammer and blush, and she didn’t have to confess her homosexuality. She told Marcie about her father.
She was almost ashamed to recount what had happened. It was humiliating, and it looked like a bald bid for sympathy. And yet she wanted terribly to touch Marcie’s heart, to win her compassion. “He told the clerk he had no daughter.” She finished. Her shame made her drop her gaze and cover her face with her hands. But Marcie, suddenly moved, put her arms around Laura and cried.
“Forgive me, Laura,” she whispered. “I’ve been a stupid idiot about this. I don’t know what got into me. Honey, forgive me, I should never have tortured you about it. Whatever your father did to you, he must be a beast. He doesn’t deserve to live.”
But that was going too far, even for Laura. There had been violent moments of shame and rejection, when she wanted to kill him. But there were others when she wanted only to be allowed to love him. “Don’t say that, Marcie.”
Marcie looked up at her, her face so close that she gave Laura a start. “Don’t tell me you still feel anything for him?” she said. “After what he did to you?”
“I don’t know what I feel. I hate him sometimes, Marcie, I hate him so much sometimes that I’m terrified of myself. I think ‘If he were with me right now—if he suddenly appeared—I’d kill him. I’d kill him!’” And she said it with such force that Marcie shuddered. “And then, other times, all I want to do is cry. Just cry till there aren’t any tears left. Get down on my knees and beg him to love me.”
“It seems so crazy, Laur. My Dad is so nice and ordinary. I couldn’t take it if he ever hurt me like yours. God, you must feel so alone. Laura, let me be close to you. Let me be friends with you. You haven’t up to now, you know.”
Laura began to feel dizzy. This is too much, this is too easy, she thought, and pangs of conscience came up in her. All I have to do is pull her close, caress her, kiss her, all I have to do—oh, my God! But I can’t! It’d be like corrupting her, like leading her astray. Damn! Why have I got a conscience? Beth didn’t have one. Neither does Beebo. Why me? Why can’t I just take her? But she was too afraid.
“Laura, talk to me. You’re off in another world again.”
Laura looked down at her, balanced between desire and fear, between desire and conscience, between desire and ... desire, desire....
“Marcie,” she whispered. “Remember the night you wanted to touch tongues?”
Marcie laughed a little, embarrassed. “Yes,” she said. “I told Burr about it. He says I’m cracked.”
Laura was shocked. “You told Burr?” she said, hurt by the betrayal.
“Well, don’t look so horrified.” Marcie giggled. “Don’t tell me you didn’t tell Jack?”
And Laura, by her sudden confusion, admitted that she had. With the admission, and the shock, came a clear head. She stood up. Marcie watched her. “I’m going to bed,” Laura said. “I’m too beat to talk. I’m just worn out.”
Marcie let her go without a word. Her eyes followed Laura around the room. Laura ignored her studiously. She was asleep within minutes after she lay down, too tired even to worry.
Laura knew she would have to lie to Sarah in the morning about where she spent the day before. She made up her mind to do it fast and simply. She organized a little story about a sick headache and she delivered it quickly, even before Sarah had a chance to ask. Sarah took it at face value.
At the end of the day, she called Marcie and told her she’d be late. “I’ve got to stay here and catch up,” she explained. “I’ve done nothing but get behind the whole time Jean’s been away. I just can’t seem to get the work done. I’m not going to lose this job.”
“You’re wearing yourself out, Laur. I think you’re crazy. You can get a much softer job and earn a lot more money. In fact I talked to Mr. Marquardt about you.”
“You what?”
“Yes.” She laughed. “Today. I thought it would be fun if we could be in the same office. Besides, I never saw anybody work like you do. It’s insane, when all you have to do is sit around.”
“Marcie, I don’t want to sit around! I don’t need help! I can do this myself. I know you did it out of friendship but damn it, I want to work. I don’t want to sit around on my behind all day, counting the minutes till the next coffee break.”
Marcie was taken aback by the forcefulness of it. “Laura, I didn’t mean—” she began, and her voice was hurt.
“I know, I know. I’m grateful, Marcie, forgive me. But I have something to prove, staying here. It’s only hard at first, when you’re learning. It’ll get easier. And in another two weeks there’ll be three of us at the office.”
She knew she had hurt Marcie’s feelings and when she hung up she wondered if it was worth it. Why don’t I quit? Why don’t I take a soft job, like Marcie? But she knew what scorn her father would pour on a job like that. It was only the tough ones, the ones that took it out of you, that demanded your best, that he had any respect for.
Laura stayed on until nearly eight by herself. The building was crypt-quiet and she was deep in the last round of reports she intended to do, when the door opened and a voice said, “Laura!”
Laura gave a gasp of shock, throwing her hands over her face. She was so startled that she found herself trembling all over. For a moment she was unable to move.
“Laura?” he said again.
Laura turned slowly around in her swivel chair, taking her hands away from her face. She looked up, her face cold and white and resentful. It was Burr. She didn’t say a word. She only stared at him in surprise. She felt overflowing with hatred for him, as if Merrill Landon were standing there.
Burr was somewhat taken aback. “Marcie said you were down here,” he said, a little awkwardly. “I wanted to talk to you.” He shrugged, and pulled Sarah’s chair out from her desk, sitting down about five feet from Laura. She said nothing.
“Laura,” he said, embarrassed. “We started out to be pretty good friends, you and I.” He turned his hat around and around in his hands, studying it while he talked. “Then—I don’t know why—we seemed to—well, we just didn’t have anything to say to each other. I guess maybe because we always talked about books. And Marcie. You don’t seem to be reading any books any more. And Marcie—well....” He seemed at a loss for words here. He twirled his hat assiduously, as if that might give him some answers. But it was no help. “Of course, I haven’t been around much lately, either,” he said.
Laura was suddenly a little scared. But she was determined not to be any more helpful than his hat. She only glared at him. She still hadn’t said a word to him. After all, she thought, I haven’t done anything. He still hasn’t said what he wants.
“Well, frankly Laura, Marcie’s changed. I don’t know what the hell’s come over her. I thought maybe you could help me out.” He eyed her closely. “I guess it sounds pretty silly. But I love her, and all of a sudden I can’t even see her any more. I can’t get near her. She’s just not interested.” When Laura still said nothing he went on, “I mean, I know it’s not your problem, but I thought, being her roommate, you know, you might help me out.” He looked up at her, smiling a little, but his smile faded when he saw the look on her face.
Laura was thinking, Why the hell should I help you? But she said, “Why don’t you stop fighting with her, Burr? Maybe that would help.” Her voice was faintly sarcastic.
“When we fought,” he said, “at least we could always make up. That was fun. We both enjoyed it. Then all of a sudden, a couple of weeks ago, Marcie wouldn’t fight any more. I don’t know what the hell got into her. She just got quiet and thoughtful. She wouldn’t fight and she wouldn’t make love. I’m beginning to think she needed to fight before she could make love. Maybe that’s the only thing that excited her.” He looked quizzically at Laura.
“How would I know? Maybe you needed it,” Laura said, and shrugged.
By her reticence she had made Burr uncomfortable. “Well, I know it isn’t exactly the sort of thing to bother you with,” he said, making a visible effort to control his temper. “But damn it, Laura, I love her. She’s my wife. I still think of her that way, I can’t help it. I was a fool ever to let her have that divorce.”
“Do you think getting married again would change any of that?” Laura said. “Don’t you think it would just be the same old fights all over again?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Maybe. But I’d rather live with Marcie and fight than live without her and be this miserable.”
“Does fighting make you happy?”
“I don’t mind it. Not enough to make me give her up again.”
“You talk like a kid, Burr,” she said, wondering what authority gave her the right to pronounce judgments. And then she reasoned that Burr himself gave her the right. He asked for it. Okay, he’d get it. “If you want to win Marcie back, find out what’s the trouble and change it. If you want my opinion—and I guess that’s why you’re here—I don’t think you should go back together. I think Jack’s right; you were never meant for each other. It’s purely physical.”
These were hard words, but even so Laura wasn’t prepared for the effect they produced. Burr went pale and his mouth dropped open. Suddenly he stood up. “Jack said that?” he said incredulously. “Jack?”
And Laura went a little sick. She had violated a confidence, without even meaning to. The one person she couldn’t bear to hurt, to alienate right now, was Jack. “Maybe I’m mistaken,” she said quickly. But who else could it be? “It was me, Burr, I don’t know why I said that. It wasn’t Jack.”
“Oh, it was you!” He had been surprised into a fury. He had been nursing his grievance, trying to talk calmly to Laura. Now his feelings got out of control. “Well, I’ll tell you something, Laura. I don’t believe you. It was Jack or you wouldn’t have said so. You’re a lousy liar. Now suppose you explain something to me.” He leaned with his fists on her desk.
Laura leaned away from him, frightened now. “Calm down, Burr,” she said, but he ignored her.
“You and Jack can both go to hell!” he said. “You’ve been psychoanalyzing the situation over a couple of beers in your spare time. A couple of cocktail-hour psychologists. Oh, don’t think I can’t see it. Well, I don’t give a damn for what you think. I love Marcie!” He was shouting. “I love her! And I’d like to know why the hell she doesn’t love me any more. Why, Laura? You tell me. Why would she rather stay home with you at night than go out with me? Why does she talk about Laura, Laura, Laura all the time? Laura reads this, Laura does that, Laura says! God, I’m sick of it!” His ugly suspicions exploded in her face.
“She doesn’t, Burr, you’re mistaken.”
“Mistaken!” he roared, his face turning scarlet. “Mistaken! Oh, you’re a bitch, Laura! Mistaken! And she won’t make love to me any more. She won’t see me. You’re the only one she gives a damn about. She can’t get enough of you at home, she’s got to get you a job in her own office. Yes, she told me about it,” he interrupted himself, when Laura gave a little gasp.
“Burr, you fool, you’re making things up,” Laura said. She looked cold and controlled, but there was a terror inside her that he couldn’t see. She rose in her seat and faced him, their faces not a foot apart. “Now get out of here.” It had worked before with other men. It had to work now with Burr. She would give him no satisfaction.
“Don’t tell me you’re not up to some God-damn funny business,” he growled.
“I’m not up to any God-damn funny business,” she replied quietly.
“Then what’s all this crap about touching tongues? In the dark? In bed? Why does Marcie follow you around like you were Svengali?”
“She doesn’t.”
“Don’t tell me she doesn’t!” he shouted in a fury, bringing his fist down with a huge thump on her desk. “I know she does. I know!”
“Burr, you’re insane with jealousy.”
“What’s going on between you two?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’m a bad liar, you said it yourself. If I had ever touched Marcie I couldn’t lie about it.” She glared at him, her face a mask, almost white; her eyes brilliant and her body tense.
“You want her. Admit it.” He was quiet now, but it was the quiet of hatred.
“I won’t admit anything. Who the hell are you? I don’t owe you any explanations.”
“She’s my wife.”
“So she’s your wife. She’s my roommate. She prefers to live with me.” Laura was dangerously near throwing her advantage in his face.
“You are queer! By God, I knew it!”
“How dare you!” And the hot blood came to Laura’s face. “Get out of here! You bastard!”
“All right, deny it, then!”
“I’m not accountable to you, Burr. I won’t admit or deny anything. I don’t have to. I’ll call the police if you don’t get out of here. I’ll sue you for libel if you make that accusation in public. I never laid a hand on Marcie.”
“That’s not what Marcie said.”
For a shocked second Laura was unable to move or respond. Then she gasped and staggered a little. There was a terrible silence, heavy with the awful meaning of his words.
Laura sat down shaking. She began to cry.
Burr watched her in silent fury for a moment. Then he said, “I thought that’d get you, you bitch.” His voice was low and dry. “I came here to talk to you like a human being, to give you a chance. But you act like a God-damn queen. You act like I was in the wrong, not you! Like I was an animal. Well, you’re no better. You’re a pervert, Laura. And I’m going to get Marcie away from you if I have to call out the cops to do it. You’re not going to touch her again.” He turned sharply and started out.
“Burr! Burr! My God, wait! What did she say? What did she tell you?”
“Can’t you guess?”
“She made it up, Burr, believe me. Please believe me.” She was begging him now. “You know how she is.”
“Yeah, I know how she is. She didn’t make this up.”
“She did! She’s lying.”
“She’s telling the truth. You’re perverting her. It’s obvious, even I can see it. Perverting her! My Marcie!” He almost wept when he said it, and Laura instinctively put a hand to her throat as if to protect herself.
“Burr,” she said and her voice was deeply intense and quiet, “I swear to you by God and Heaven and everything I hold sacred, I never—”
“You hold nothing sacred! You’re a walking profanity! You’re a mockery of womanhood. You’re queer. Queer! And you’re infecting Marcie. I’m going to get her away from you. Now. Tonight!” And he turned on his heel and walked out.
Laura called after him until he walked into the last operating elevator and disappeared. She sobbed wildly for a minute, collapsed in her chair. Then, as if electrified, she picked up the phone and dialed the penthouse, as fast as her trembling fingers would let her. She almost died of impatience before Marcie answered. “Hello?” Marcie said.
“Marcie! Marcie, what have you done to me? Answer me!”
“Laur?” Marcie’s voice sounded small and frightened. “What’s the matter, honey?”
“Burr just left me. I thought he was going to kill me. Marcie, what did you tell him?”
“Oh, Laura.” Marcie’s voice was only the faintest whisper. “I had no idea he’d—I didn’t think he’d bother you. I didn’t think he’d even mention it.”
“What did you tell him, Marcie?” Laura’s voice sounded almost hysterical.
“I—we quarreled.” Marcie was crying quietly while she talked. “We quarreled, for the first time in weeks. It was terrible. As if to make up for all those weeks when we didn’t fight at all. He accused me of—forgive me, Laura, I’m ashamed to say these words—of falling in love with you.”
Laura groaned despairingly.
“Laur, I’m so sorry. I guess I talked about you all the time. I get interested in somebody, or something and I just don’t talk about anything else for a while. I talked about you because I admire you so much. I—well, you know. He got the wrong idea, that’s all. But I didn’t realize it, I swear I didn’t, Laur. I would have stopped him if I had. And then we had this quarrel tonight and I said some things I shouldn’t have.”
“What things? What things, Marcie?”
Marcie sobbed. “He accused me of trying to tempt you, of egging you on. Oh, Laura, this is too horrible, I can’t go on.”
“Tell me!”
“And I got so furious. It was so unfair. You know we haven’t done anything! He was just determined to believe it. He can’t believe I just don’t want to see him any more, that’s too hard on his damned pride. So he was just waiting for somebody to blame, and there you were. And I was so damn mad at him. It was hopeless, there was no talking to him. He was losing me because somebody else was winning me, that’s the only way he could see it. So I finally just shouted at him, ‘All right, have it your way, you big fool. Believe what you want to believe, I can’t stop you!’” She was interrupted by her own sobs.
“Marcie,” Laura said, making a huge effort to control herself, “Did you tell him that I ...” She could hardly get the words out. “... made love to you?”
“No! No, Laura!” Marcie cried.
“Did you tell him anything specific?”
“Absolutely not, I swear!”
Laura gave a sigh of relief. She began to cry again herself. After a moment she said softly, “Marcie, he’s on his way to the penthouse. He says he’s not going to let you spend another night in the same apartment with me. I’m infecting you.”
“Oh, Laura, honey. God!”
“So you’d better lock the door.”
“We don’t have a key!”
“Get one from the janitor.”
“I’m afraid of him. He’s down in the basement. It’s so dark down there and he always tries to make a pass at me.”
“I shouldn’t think that would bother you.” Laura couldn’t help the dig; it made her feel better.
“Laura, he’s nuts. He’s a meatball.”
“Well, damn it, do something!” Laura cried, exasperated. Then she forced herself to speak quietly. “All right, call the police,” she said. “Say your former husband is threatening you. Say you’re afraid of him, you think he wants to kill you. Say anything! Tell them he’s on his way over right now and you want protection.”
“Laura, I’ve never done such a thing in my life! Poor Burr! I’ve known him since I was a kid, I worshipped him.”
“You stopped worshipping him in a hurry when you had to live with him. Listen to me, there’s not much time. If you don’t want him to do something violent you’d better get some protection. I can’t fight him off for you. Unless you want to go with him tonight.”
“Go with him! That bastard! After what he did tonight? He can go to hell. Without me.”
“That’s where he’d like to see me,” Laura said. “I’d better not show up. I’ll stay down here for another hour or so. I’ll call you before I come home, to be sure the coast is clear.”
“Laura? I hate to call the police, Laur. It makes me sick.” She sounded miserable.
“Marcie for God’s sake, you’re a taxpayer. You’re entitled to protection. Burr was in a fit when he left here.”
Marcie began to weep again. “Laura, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said softly over the phone.
Laura’s heart softened too. “Oh Marcie,” she moaned. “I guess it really isn’t anybody’s fault. Burr’s still in love with you. None of us realized how much. He had to be jealous of somebody, and he knew you weren’t dating anybody else. We’ve all been pretty stupid about the whole thing. I just hope to God it blows over.” All of a sudden she felt powerfully tired.
“It’s all my fault,” Marcie said. “Everything’s my fault. I’ll make it up to you, Laura, I promise.”
“Never mind, honey. Just keep out of trouble tonight. I’ll be home about ten. I’ll call you first.”
“Okay.” Marcie was still crying when she hung up.
For a long time Laura sat at her desk, staring into space. The windows were black, gold-spangled with the city night, and everything was still.
She got up, feeling weak and tired, and yet not desperate or frightened any more. Burr had no proof of anything. Marcie would deny everything. And if things went as it seemed they must, Burr would act like a crazy man and convince the police he was bent on violence. Marcie would be genuinely frightened and it would show. There ought not to be any difficulty about it. She got her things together and turned out the office light.
The hall to the elevator was bare and echoing as she walked down it. The elevator boy was silent, as if he too had been touched by the vast quiet of the night.
Laura walked out on the street. People hustled by, lights shone, cars honked. But it all seemed far away, not very real. Her senses registered only half of what they perceived.
Where shall I go? I’d better not try to go home for a while. Not till Burr leaves. Another hour, at least.
She looked at her watch: eight-thirty. She walked slowly, gazing ahead of her like a sleepwalker. I’ll go somewhere where I can sit down and read, she thought. She bought a magazine from a corner stand and sauntered on another couple of blocks until she saw the McAlton on the next corner.
She almost exclaimed aloud, as if the hotel had been sneaking up on her while she marked time on the sidewalk. She stopped in her tracks to stare at it and then looked self-consciously into a shop window. After a few minutes she moved on to the hotel.
If I just sit in a corner, as if I’m waiting for somebody, they can’t do anything. I’ll just read this thing till nine-thirty or so.
A tiny unworded excitement knotted itself around her heart and stuck there, prepared to stay for as long as Laura stayed in the lobby. She didn’t go over to the desk. She just sat down in an alcove on a leather covered sofa next to a fat middle-aged woman. She read until nine-thirty.
Then she got up and walked halfway across the lobby to the phone booths, entered one, and dialed the penthouse. Marcie answered.
“Is everything all right, Marcie? It’s Laura.”
“Yes.” She sounded tired, reticent.
“What happened?”
“Nothing. The policeman got here right after Burr did. Burr was yelling like a crazy man. The policeman took him out and told him to stop bothering me or they’d take him down and book him. He was furious. He cried. But he went. Damn it, he deserved it, after what he did to you.”
“Are you alone now?”
“Yes.”
Laura suddenly felt enormously relieved. “Thank God,” she said.
“Will you be right home?”
“Yes. Right away.” She hung up and left the booth, putting some change in her purse. She felt much better. Burr was mad as hell, that was certain. But for the moment he would have to watch himself; he would have to be careful. Marcie was disgusted with him. Obviously force was the wrong way to get her back. And suddenly Laura saw her father.
Merrill Landon was about twenty feet from her, his face turned profile to her, talking to some men.
Laura gave a low cry, almost inaudible, and her heart stopped. The knot around it gave a tremendous squeeze, like a big angry fist, and stopped it altogether for a moment. It started again with a tremendous thump. She darted toward the little alcove, her face averted, but found all the seats taken. She stood facing away from him for a minute, her heart kicking wildly, wondering frantically what to do.
I’ve got to be calm, I’ve got to be calm, she said under her breath, but each time she said it it seemed more hysterical. She gulped convulsively and barely heard someone say in her ear, “Excuse me, dear. Are you all right?”
“Yes. Yes, thanks,” she said, her voice staccato, afraid to identify her questioner.
She shut her eyes tight for a minute. If I just walk out quickly, he’ll never see me. The lobby is full, there are dozens of people in here. He’s not looking for me, he’s talking to some men, he won’t see me. I’ll just walk out.
She took a very careful glance behind her. He was facing her now, but not seeing her, gesturing, talking, engrossed in his words. He would never see her. For a second she permitted herself the luxury of looking hard at him; his big maleness, his strong face that could never be called handsome and yet compelled interest. That face that almost never smiled at Laura since she was five years old. That face she was condemned to love.
Laura turned away then and began to walk toward the door, keeping her face averted, hurrying, her heart pounding as if she were running up a steep hill. Near the door she slowed down a little. I’ll never see him again, she told herself fiercely. Just one more glance. It will have to last me my life. She turned around slowly, carefully, just five feet from the door and safety.
He was looking at her. Looking straight at her, as if he had been following her through the crowd with his eyes, not quite sure but wondering. For a split second Laura didn’t believe it; thought he didn’t really see her and was just looking that way. But then he cried, “Laura!” in his big rough voice, and her eyes went huge with fear and she gasped and turned and ran as if the devil were after her. She ran headlong, panicky, her heart huge and desperate, struggling to get out of her throat. She ran with all her strength and with an unreasoning terror whipping her heels, all the way to the subway. She never once looked back. People turned to stare, they jumped out of the way and she collided with a dozen of them. She almost fell down the subway steps and ran and dodged and shoved her way into the ladies’ rest room.
There, she fell on the floor, whimpering, crying despairingly, unable to lift herself off the filth of the black floor and completely unaware of anything but the hysterical fear that gripped her. After a while she felt hands on her shoulders and she gave a wild scream and sat up. A terrified Negress was bending over her, saying, “There now, there now.” Her eyes were all whites.
Laura panted, speechless, gasping for breath. She leaned exhausted against the door of a booth until her wind came back to her and then she tried to get up. The Negro woman helped her, handling her like heirloom china, watching her every second for fear she would take off on another fit.
Laura half staggered to the wash basin and turned the water on. She looked at her haggard face in the mirror and an attack of real crying, soothing relief with real tears, overwhelmed her. “Father, Father, Father,” she cried softly, her face in her hands.
“Can I help you, Miss?” the colored woman asked. She was scared by Laura’s behavior, but fascinated.
Laura shook her head.
After a moment’s pause the woman said, “You came in here like a bat out of hell. You was out of your mind, honey, that’s for sure. Was some sonofabitch chasin’ you?”
Laura put her hands down to look at the woman in the cracked mirror over the basin. She nodded.
“Well, I never seen a girl so scared in my life. Never.” She shook her head positively. “You better get yourself some help, honey. Is he still out there?”
At this Laura went so white that she frightened the woman again, who said, “There now, there now. Didn’t mean to start nothin’. Don’t go off like that again.”
Laura turned around to look at her. And in her awful unhappiness she went to her and put her arms around her, to the bottomless astonishment of the woman, and wept on her shoulder. “I never had a mother,” Laura sobbed. “I never had a mother.” And her heart was broken.
The woman held her like a child and said, “There now, there now. Everybody’s got a mother, even you.”
“Nobody knows me. I don’t even know myself. I don’t know what I’m doing here,” she said brokenly. “I’m a stranger in this world.”
“Well, now,” said the woman, “Everybody’s a stranger when you look at it that way. But everybody got a chance to find a little love. That’s the most important thing. When you got a little love, the rest don’t seem so strange or sad no more. There now, honey, there now.”
Laura suddenly shied away from her. “Don’t call me honey!” she said, her face twisted with misery.
The Negro woman let her go, shaking her head. “You pretty sick, girl,” she said. “You need a doctor, and that’s the truth.”
Laura turned and walked out of the rest room on shaking legs. Outside she looked warily up and down the waiting platform. Only a handful of people were there. A train had gone through just after she entered the rest room and had taken most of the crowd with it. She waited in silence for the next train.
The woman came out of the rest room after Laura. She stood some distance from her, staring at her with a mixture of distrust and pity, until the train arrived and the crowd separated them.
Laura came home too exhausted to talk about it, to be embarrassed with Marcie about the fight with Burr. She was so full of her experience, so absorbed in her father, that nobody else seemed real. She almost fell into her bed, with hardly a word to Marcie, and lay there wrapped up in herself, crying quietly for a long time.
Things were no better in the morning. Somehow the enormity of Burr’s accusation hung between them like a curtain. They could look at each other only furtively; they couldn’t speak. They were embarrassed, a little afraid of each other, and it made them overly polite. All they said was, “Excuse me,” “pass the cream, please,” “I’m sorry.” Laura had the additional burden of her terrible flight from her father to keep her both silent and preoccupied.
She was unable to figure it out. She knew she didn’t want to talk to him, to show him any forgiveness at all, to satisfy his curiosity about her—if he had any. She only wanted a glimpse of him; she wanted to reassure herself that he was still in New York, even though she knew he was. And she knew he might see her if she hung around his hotel. And she was ashamed that he should see her and know how important he was to her, even after his cruel denial of her. All these things were plain to Laura and yet when she looked back on the night before it seemed incredible. Especially her own terror.
They parted for work without more than a perfunctory goodby. Laura knew it was going to be a rough day. She had had almost no sleep. And for the first time since she took the job she didn’t even give a damn what happened. She was too engrossed in herself and the urgent unnameable feelings that plagued her. Not even the head start she had given herself the night before encouraged her. It only reminded her of Burr and the ugly quarrel they had had. The thought of her father, which usually spurred her on, even on the darkest days, now filled her with a shaky apprehension and so engaged her mind that it was hard for her to think about anything else.
Bombshells fell around her all day. Marcie called in tears at ten to say she couldn’t stand it any longer and wouldn’t Laura forgive her. And Laura was forced to take time out, while Dr. Hagstrom was in the room, to reassure her. Marcie wouldn’t be put off; there was no help for it.
Sarah reminded her that they were all going out for dinner that night. They had arranged to meet Jack and Carl Jensen at a small bar a couple of blocks away for cocktails and to go on from there. It wasn’t until Sarah mentioned it that Laura even remembered it, and then she was dismayed.
Just before lunch, Jack called.
“Laura,” he said firmly, “what the hell are you trying to do to me?”
“Nothing. What’s the matter, Jack, can’t you make it tonight?”
“Tonight be damned. I’m liable to get skinned alive. Right now.”
“Did something go wrong with Terry?” Laura was startled into attention.
He paused a minute before answering, taken aback to hear his lover mentioned right out on the phone. “No,” he said. “I spoil him rotten, but that’s nothing new. Guess again.”
“Well, Jack, I don’t have time for guessing games, we’re—”
“I know, you’re behind. Burr told me you stayed late last night to catch up.”
“Burr told you? Oh!” Suddenly she remembered. “What’s the matter with me?”
“You tell me. I’d like to know. Burr was real sweet. He told me I was a lousy bastard and no friend of his, and I could take my psychoanalysis and cram it. Oh, he told me some very interesting things. He told me you’re queer and you’re perverting Marcie, and you two are lovers, and Marcie sicked the cops on him last night, and God knows what else. Would you care to explain to me what the hell is going on? Just so I won’t put my foot in my mouth? You know how it is.” There was the forgiveness in his bitter humor and it made her miserable.
“Jack, I’m so terribly sorry,” she said. “I blurted out something about the way you felt about Burr and Marcie. I was trying to calm him down. I should have known better. He was out of his mind.”
“Since when are you and Marcie lovers?”
“We’re not! I would have told you, you know that.” She glanced surreptitiously across the office at Sarah, but Sarah had her eyes on her work. “Burr got it into his head we were because Marcie talked about me so much. Because she stayed home and wouldn’t go out with him. When he accused her, it made her so mad she just told him, ‘Okay, believe it.’ And he did. I thought he was going to kill me last night.”
At this Sarah did look up, but Laura didn’t notice.
“Well, that’s a hell of a story,” Jack said.
“It’s the truth, Jack! I swear.”
“Never mind the truth. You’ve got me in a lovely mess. Burr thinks I promoted the whole affair.”
“My God! Jack, what’ll we do?”
“What can we do? Have you done anything with Marcie you wouldn’t want to write home about?”
“Nothing! I wish to God now I had. As long as he’s going to believe it anyway.”
“Oh, no! Christ! Whatever you do, Laura, don’t touch Marcie. Not till Burr straightens out. Never, if you have any sense.”
Laura wouldn’t answer him. She felt closer to winning Marcie, in spite of their awkwardness with each other this morning, than she ever had. She wouldn’t make any promises to Jack.
“You hear me, Mother?”
“Yes.”
He apparently took that for a promise. “And one more thing.”
“I can’t take any more right now.”
“This won’t hurt. What have you done to Beebo?”
“Done to her? Nothing. Ask her what she’s done to me,” she said, and her voice was hard. Sarah watched her with considerable interest now.
“Keep your voice down, Mother,” Jack said. “Beebo’s goofy for you. And when she gets a girl on her mind, that girl had better watch out. She’s a stubborn bitch.”
“So am I,” Laura snapped.
“She’s in love with you, Laura. Don’t cross her.”
“I’d walk all over her if I could. She treats me like a slave.”
“Christ, keep your voice down,” Jack said, and Laura was surprised at her own lack of caution. Usually she was meticulously careful. Today, nothing seemed to matter. “She’s in love with you,” Jack said. “That explains a lot of things.”
“It doesn’t excuse them. Besides, she isn’t. How do you know she is?”
“She said so.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
Laura couldn’t help being flattered. The pleasure in her was warm and sudden and overwhelmed her bad conscience briefly. “I’m not going to see her again,” she told Jack. This time she almost whispered, which intrigued Sarah still more.
Jack laughed. “Have it your way,” he said. “Only don’t drag me into your messes any more, Mother. I’ve got enough of my own.”
“Is everything all right between—I mean—” She looked over at Sarah for the first time and surprised Sarah staring at her. Sarah went quickly back to work and Laura felt suddenly nervous. “Jack, I’d better hang up. We’ll talk tonight.”
“Okay. See you at five-thirty.”
Laura spent the rest of the day reassuring herself, I’ll never go back to that hotel. He’ll be gone tomorrow. Or Sunday at the latest. The thought gave her considerable relief.
