79 Park Avenue (30 page)

She wondered if he had a girl friend he was going to see. Something inside her ached at that thought. He probably never thought about her any more. Slowly she groimd out the cigarette in an ash tray. She was sorry she had ever given in to the impulse to ask Frank to locate Mike for her.

Chapter 6

SHE parked the car across the street from the gate to the hospital and waited. The big A.W.V.S. bus was at the comer, waiting to take the soldiers into the city. She looked at her watch. It was seven thirty. She shivered slightly and lit a cigarette. It had been a long time since she had been up so early in the morning.

After a while she began to feel a little silly. It was stupid to get up in the middle of the night and drive all the way out here just to look at him. Not to talk to him, not to touch him. Just to see him walk a few feet and get into a bus. He would never even know she was here.

She was on her third cigarette when the gate opened and the first group of soldiers came out. A sudden fear came into her. They all looked so much alike in their uniforms. She wondered whether she would recognize him. He might have changed.

A smaU Red Cross Mobile Canteen was set up in front of the gate, and women were busy handing out doughnuts

and cups of hot coffee to the boys. Two more buses came up and pulled in behind the first one.

Eagerly she scanned the soldiers' faces. The first bus was full now, and its motors caught with a roar. It pulled off, and the second bus moved up to take its place. The raucous sounds of the men's laughter came to her.

The second bus drove off and the last bus moved up. She looked at her watch nervously. It was a quarter past eight. Millersen had been wrong. Mike wasn't coming out. There were fewer soldiers now. The rush was over.

She scanned each face quickly. Maybe she had missed him in the crowd which had got on the earlier buses. Now there were only a few soldiers coming down the path. The Mobile Canteen was shutting its flaps. She heard the woman who seemed to be in charge telling the other that it was time to go. The Canteen drove off.

She ground out her cigarette in the dashboard tray and turned on the ignition. Either she had missed him in the crowd or he wasn't coming out. She pressed the starter, and the motor caught. The last bus started out into the road before her.

She put the car into gear and started to move. A last impulse made her look across the road. He was just turning through the gate. Her foot hit the brake automatically and she stared.

He was thin, terribly thin; his cheekbones stuck out, and his eyes were blue hollows above them. He walked with a slight limp, as if favoring his right leg. As he sew the bus disappearing around the comer, he stopped and she saw him snap his fingers in a famihar gesture of disappointment. She could almost hear the "Damn!" his lips framed.

Slowly he shifted his small canvas bag from his right hand to his left hand. He struck a match and Ut a cigarette,

then flipped the match into the gutter, and began to walk down the street.

She sat as if paralyzed, looking after him. He seemed strange in a uniform, and yet it was as if he had always worn it. Everything about him was wholly familiar. As she stepped from the car, she felt almost as if a magnet were drawing her. She found herself running after him.

Her hand reached out and covered his own on the handle of the bag. There was such a pounding in her ears that she could hardly hear her own voice. "Carry your bag, soldier?"

He turned slowly. Her vision blurred and she couldn't see his face clearly. Was he annoyed? Frightened, she spoke again. "Carry your bag, soldier?"

The cigarette hanging from his Ups began to fall. It tumbled crazily across his lapel and dropped to the sidewalk between them. She stood trembling, waiting for him to speak.

His lips moved, but no sound came out. His face began to whiten and he seemed to sway. She put out a hand to steady him. Then it was as if there were a fire between them, for she was in his arms and kissing his mouth and the salt of someone's tears was on their lips.

She turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door, looking up at him in the shadows of the hallway. "We're home, Mike," she said.

He walked into the room and turned to face her. Her explanations had already been made. She had told him about the friend who had found him for her.

She closed the door behind her, and a sudden shyness came over her. "Sit down and rest," she said. "I'll fix you a drink." She walked over to the sideboard. "What'U it be?"

"Gin over rocks," he said, his eyes following her.

Quickly she poured the drink and handed it to him. She took the cap from his head and studied his face. "You've changed, Mike."

He smiled slowly. "I'm a man now, Marja. I couldn't stay a boy forever. You told me that, remember?"

Her eyes were on his. She nodded.

He raised his drink to her. "To the children we were," he said.

"Mike!" There was the echo of pain in her voice. "Let's not remember. Let's pretend we are just meeting, with aU our yesterdays forgotten and nothing but bright tomorrows before us."

The comers of his mouth twisted. "It's pretty hard to pretend, Marja. Too many things are happening all around us."

"For just these few days, then, Mike. Please!"

He put his drink down and held out his arms toward her. She came into them quickly and he placed her head against his chest. She could hear his voice rumbling deep inside him. "I don't have to pretend anything, Marja. Being with you is all I ever wanted."

The telephone began to ring, and he released her.

She shook her head. "I don't want to answer it."

"It may be important," he said.

"The only thing important this week-end is us," she answered.

When the phone stopped ringing, she dialed a number. "This is Miss Flood. Tm going away for the week-end. Will you take all the messages, please, and tell everyone who asks for immediate service."

He watched her put down the telephone. "You must have a pretty good job to be able to afford this place."

She smiled. *l've been lucky.'*

A kind of pride came into his eyes. "Smart, too. Yuh don't get all these things without being smart."

Suddenly cautious, she studied his face for hidden meanings. Then she drew a deep breath. "I don't want to talk shop," she said. '1 get enough of that all week. This weekend is for me."

It was near midnight when they came in from dinner, still laughing at something he had said in the cab. But his face, she realized, was drawn and tired. She was im-medi ately contrite.

"I been havin' such a baU," she said, "I forgot you were just out of the hospital."

"I'm fine," he said.

"No, you're not," she insisted, crossing the bedroom. "I'll make the bed and draw your bath. You're goin' right to sleep."

"Marja," he protested. "You make me feel like a baby."

"For this week-end," she said, smiling at him, "that's just what you are. My baby."

Quickly she turned down the covers of the bed and went into the bathroom and turned on the hot water. When she came out into the bedroom, he was standing in the doorway looking at her.

"You don't have to give up your bed for me," he said. "I can sleep on the couch."

She could feel a flame creeping up in her face. She crossed the room and put her amis around his neck. "Mike," she whispered, "you're such a fool." She kissed him.

He stood very still for a moment, then his arms tightened around her until she could hardly breathe. There

were lights spinning before her eyes and the room was turning over and over. She could feel his muscles tighten strongly against her. She closed her eyes. It had never been like this. Never. This was for her. This was her feeling, her emotion, her hfe force. It was her begimiing and her ending. The world and the stars were exploding inside her. "Mike!" she cried. "I love you, Mike!"

Chapter 7

SHE lay quietly in the bed watching him sleep. The gray light of the morning filtered through the drawn blinds. A stray shaft of sunlight fell across his mouth. He seemed to be smiUng. She rested her head on the pillow, scarcely daring to breathe for fear it would disturb him. The weekend had so quickly become yesterday. She closed her eyes to better remember.

"We could be married before I check in." His voice was low.

Startled, she opened her eyes. *T thought you were sleeping," she said.

"We have time. I don't have to report until noon." He was looking right into her eyes.

She didn't answer.

His hand sought her fingers. "What's wrong, Marja?**

She shook her head. "Nothing."

"Something is," he said. "I feel it. Ever since I first asked you yesterday. Don't you want to marry me?"

She tximed her face to him. "You know better than that.**

"Then what is it?" he asked. "From here I go to ofl&cer-candidate school. Lieutenants get pretty good pay. We can manage on that. At least we could be together until I go overseas again."

"Mike," she whispered, "please stop. Don't ask me any more."

"But I love you, baby," he said. "I want you with me always. Is it your job? The money you get?"

She shook her head.

"When I get out of service, I'm goin' to law school," he said. "Lawyers make out pretty good."

"No, Mike, no."

He pulled her to him and kissed her. "If there's something you're afraid of, baby, tell me. I don't care what it is. Nothing you can do or have done can keep us apart. I love you too much."

She looked up into his eyes. "Yuh mean that, don't ' you?" she whispered. ,

He nodded.

"Someone else said that to me once, but he didn't mean it."

"He didn't love you like I do," he said. "Nobody ever has or will."

She took a deep breath. "I v^sh I could believe it. Maybe someday—"

"Marry me and see," he said, smiling.

The doorbell rang sharply. He looked at her. "Expecting someone?"

She shook her head as the beU rang again. "It's probably the milkman. He'll go away."

But the bell didn't stop ringing. "Maybe you better go see who it is," he said.

**Oh, all right," she said, reaching for her robe. She slipped into it and went into the other room, closing the bedroom door behind her.

She opened the hall door. "Yes?" she asked.

"I knew you were home," Ross said, "even though you didn't answer the phone all week-end."

She placed her foot behind the door. "You can't come in," she whispered. "I told you never to come unless we spoke first."

He stared at her balefuUy. "How's anybody goin' to talk to you when you don't answer the phone?"

"Come back this afternoon," she said, starting to close the door on him.

He pushed it back and she fell back with it. He came into the apartment. She could smell hquor on his breath. "I'm not comin' back this afternoon," he said. "I'm goin' to the coast to stay, an' you're comin' with me!"

"Ross, you're nuts!" she said angrily. "I'm not goin' anywhere with you!"

He grabbed her arm. "You're comin'!" he shouted.

The bedroom door opened and Mike stood there. He didn't recognize Ross at first. "Need any help, Marja?" he asked.

Ross knew him at once. "Mike!" he yelled. Then he began to laugh.

Mike was bewildered. "What's the matter with him?"

"He's drunk," she said.

Ross staggered over to Mike. "My ol' buddy," he said. "Will you tell this crazy broad that she's better off comin' to California with me than stayin' on the turf here?"

Mike's voice was cold. "Cut it, Ross. That's no way to talk in front of Marja."

Ross stopped. He looked furst at one, then the other. A

look of shrewd understanding crept over his face. He seemed to sober suddenly. 'That's why you didn't answer the phone all week-end," he said to her.

She didn't answer.

"You were shacked up with him."

Still she said nothing.

He turned to Mike. "I hope she gave you a better rate than I got. A hundred bucks a night is a lot of dough for a soldier..Even if she does throw in bacon and eggs for breakfast."

Mike stared at her. Her face was white.

Ross saw the question in Mike's eyes. "You mean to say she didn't tell you?" he said sarcastically. He turned to her. "That's not fair, baby. Waitin' till the last minute to hand him the tab. He might not have that much dough." He took a roll from his pocket and peeled several bills from it. "Here, Marja. This one's on me."

She didn't move, but stared at Ross as one might gaze in fascination on the face of death.

Ross turned back to Mike. "Here, soldier, take the dough. I just bought you a week-end with the best whore in New York. I always wanted to do something for the Army, anyway."

Mike was staring at her. "It's not true," he said in a husky voice. "Tell me it's not true."

Marja didn't speak, but Ross's voice cut in. "Don't be a schmuck, Mike. I don't have to he."

"You said you loved me," Mike said.

Still she was silent.

Ross's voice was heavy and sarcastic. "And when she held you, did she tell you how handsome you were? And when you kissed her, did she ask you to feed on her? And when you were flying, did she put—"

A low animal growl sounded in Mike's throat as he sprang at Ross. Too late he saw something flashing in Ross's hand. There was a sharp pain across his head, and he tumbled to the floor. He tried to push himself to his feet, but another pain exploded behind his ear and he sank into a welcome darkness.

Ross stood over him, panting heavily. His eyes were glazed with hatred, the small billy still swinging in his hand. He slashed Mike viciously across the face. "I've owed you that for a long time," he said. Then a fever took hold of him and he began to swing wildly.

"Stop, Ross, stop!" she screamed, clawing at him. "You'll kill him!"

"That's just what I want to do," he said crazily. "For a long time now!" He raised his arm again.

"I'll go with you if you stop!" she cried.

His hand was suspended in mid-air. He shook his head as if to clear it. "What'd you say?"

"I'll go with you if you stop." Her voice was clearer now.