King Cole (22 page)

“I’m so happy,” she said.

“That’s fine. Goodbye, Fred. You and Jean come for dinner tomorrow. Don’t forget.”

When they had gone, and Eileen had had the nurse and the chauffeur wait outside, Read came over and sat beside Eileen and took her hand.

“You’re looking fine, honey,” he said.

“Quick recovery, wasn’t it? Sometimes I think I’m just one of those neurotics. I can feel so awful one day and so well the next. Read, it was you. You did it. I was ready to die till I found out you were coming.” She laughed and, leaning forward, kissed Read lightly. “You should have seen the nurse’s face when I ate my dinner and asked for more. She held a consultation with Dr. Cross. I suppose she thought I was delirious.”

“What do you think of those kids getting married?”

“It seems so old-fashioned to elope, doesn’t it? Fred’s a nice boy. He ought to make Jean a good husband. By the way, Jean hates me, doesn’t she? She’s jealous of her papa. I know.”

“Jean says you make her feel mousy.”

“Oh, that’s just talk. She’s really a charming little girl. Does she look like her mother?”

“Yes.”

“I often wonder about Jean’s mother. She was lucky to meet you when she was young, Read. Were you happy?”

“Very.”'

“You know I was thinking last night. We’re a couple of lonely birds, you and I. We’ve both been through the mill. You were unlucky. I was a fool. We’re secondhand goods. We’re far from fresh. Sometimes you have a very disillusioned look, Read. And I know you’re much more intelligent than you pretend. The Major says you’re much too intelligent for politics. Anyway, we’re not looking for the land of rock candy mines and lemonade springs. We ought to get along.”

Read laughed.

“It sounds like we’re at least sixty. If I’m not mistaken you’re barely thirty and I’ve got two years to go before I'm forty-five. After all, we’re not Darby and Joan. But I see what you mean.”

Eileen smiled and patted Read’s face.

“I’m happy. Too happy. It’s too good to last. Some morning I’ll wake up and find myself in California with Vince. Don’t frown so. I’m not just being tactless. We’ll forget all about Vince and my silly actions quicker if we don’t make a dark secret of the whole business.”

“You’re right. Do you love me a lot, Eileen?”

“Too much, I think. You mean too much to me, Read. I’ve got to the place where it appalls me to think of living without you.”

Read laughed.

“I feel the same. We’re beginning to sound like Fred and Jean.”

“So much the better. But I would like a drink.”

Read got up and went to the wall cabinet. He felt happy and alert and young. Things were going to turn out right; he felt it. Gregg would recover and come to work in the Governor’s office, bringing a much-needed note of criticism and independent thought. Old Eagle Beak would be beaten and would retire to his dusty law office, never to be heard of again. After the election, the State would return to normal; things would settle down. Then he and Eileen could be quietly married. Read began to hum an old tune, and Eileen turned to look at him.

“Read Cole!” she cried. “You have rather a nice voice. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard you even try to sing. Can you whistle?”

“Of course!” Read whistled “first call” with a few original flourishes, grinning.

“Very nice. But why a bugle call?”

“At one time my ambition was to be a bugler. I know all the calls by heart. Want some more?”

“No, thanks. Did you ever become a bugler?”

“No. I was never good enough. It gave me an inferiority complex and almost ruined my life. Whiskey and soda, or what?”

“Whiskey and soda will do. Wasn’t it nice of me to drop in on you like this?”

“It certainly was. I appreciate it. Lord, Eileen, but you’re a good-looking woman. When will you marry me?”

“Tomorrow.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not. Or maybe I am. But if you use a strong hand, I might be persuaded.”

“I’ve got very strong hands.”

Read sat down beside Eileen and they sipped their drinks. There was not a sound in the room. Outside, beyond the State House yard, the election crowd swirled past, laughing, shouting, quarreling. Horns, sirens and rattles were still going. Glancing up, Read saw heavy snowflakes falling down past the huge windows of the Governor’s office.

It was very late. The election crowd had thinned out and now there were only a few drunken stragglers wandering through the almost deserted streets. It had stopped snowing. A wind had sprung up from the south shortly after midnight and there was now a sickly, false-spring quality about the air.

Read stood at an open window, staring down into the empty and quiet State House yard. From time to time he heard the hollow ring of footsteps on the north porch. The National Guardsmen were still on duty at all the entrances. Some of them had built a fire at the foot of the Victory Group and the tall carved winged Victory with her arms outstretched seemed alive in the flickering red firelight.

Read was very tired. He had unfastened his collar and unbuttoned his vest. His hair was mussed and standing up in a series of short curls. Gregg used to say that he had hair like a shorthorn bull. Read wondered about Gregg. At last report, he had been sleeping and seemed all right. All the same, he had got a nasty wound and was none too strong. Read brushed the thought away and, sighing, closed the window and went back to his desk.

The phone rang. Miss Wilson spoke wearily.

“It’s Charley, Governor.”

“Hello, Charley.”

“Hello, Read. My God, my God; they’re getting ready to concede. Eagle Beak’s manager has been hanging on till the last gasp, but he’s getting ready to give up. Oh, Read; I’m as bad as poor old Ed. I’m drunk as a monkey. But I couldn’t stand the strain any other way. How do you do it? Your voice sounds as calm as ever.”

“I’m numb.”

“Well, it looks like you’re elected. You put up a great fight. You’ve got something between your ears besides skull. All the boys are going nuts. Whoopee! Whoop it up. Wahoo! Wahoo! Yippee!”

“For God’s sake, Charley.”

“Hold the wire. Hold the wire. Whoopee! The extras are out, Read. Jimmy just came running. Poor Jimmy; he fell up the stairs and I think he broke his nose. But he just doesn’t give a damn. Yow! Two more years of Read Cole and then the White House! Let me talk to Myra, Read.”

“Go ahead.”

Read hung up and sank into his chair beside the desk. It was all over. After months of strain and worry, it was over. And he felt nothing at all; absolutely nothing.

“I’m numb,” Read muttered. “I wasn’t kidding Charley. I’m just numb.”

He got slowly to his feet and poured himself a drink. The office was very quiet. Outside, raucous shouts began to echo through the empty streets. The extras!

Miss Wilson came in, looking pale and haggard.

“You’ve won, Governor. I’m so happy I don’t know what to do. May I go now? Charley wants me to come to Headquarters and see the fun.”

“Yes. Go ahead. You should have gone long ago. It just never occurred to me to tell you to go.”

“I don’t mind. Goodnight, Governor. Oh, I’m so glad, and Charley is simply hysterical. I never knew he could get so excited. I believe he’s had a drink or two.”

“At least two,” said Read, smiling.

The shouts drew near. Outside in the yard some of the National Guardsmen began to yell; then a rifle was fired. Read heard men running in the rotunda.

“I’ll bet somebody gets it,” said Miss Wilson. “Captain Boyce is so strict.” She hesitated. “Governor, I can’t tell you how happy I am. You’ve been so good to me. It’s a privilege to work for such a fine gentleman. Charley says…” Suddenly she turned and went out, crying.

Read shifted about uncomfortably, then sat down. Poor Miss Wilson; very emotional behind that calm, even frigid exterior. Like himself. Like most people, perhaps.

The door burst open. Read could hear phones ringing all over the State House; men were shouting and laughing in the rotunda. Harold rushed in, grinning from ear to ear. Beads of sweat were standing out all over his amiable, yellow face.

“We win! We win!” he cried, putting two papers on the Governor’s desk. “Ain’t I a happy man, though, Governor! I was afraid. I didn’t want to admit it. But I was afraid. There is so many fool people in this world.”

“Well,” said Read, glancing at the papers, “I guess I can go home now. Order my car, Harold. You ride along with me. I’ll take you home.”

“Yes, sir,” cried Harold, beaming. “This is a mighty happy night for me, and won’t the old lady be in a good humor! She’s been mighty low the last few days ’cause I ain’t been home much. Yes, sir!”

Harold ran out, leaving the door open. Read tied his tie and began to button his vest. He heard a commotion in the rotunda: angry voices, then something that sounded like blows. He stood listening intently. Then he heard running feet, and Captain Boyce appeared in the doorway.

‘‘What’s the matter, Captain? The boys getting out of hand? I don’t want them shooting off guns, but don’t be hard on them.”

“No, Governor; it’s not that. It’s your son… he…”

“My son!” cried Read, then he leaped across the room and ran out into the rotunda, followed by Captain Boyce.

Read slowed up suddenly, seeing Johnny at the north entrance arguing with a militiaman, whose hat was off. The militiaman looked very much ruffled. Read started. In the shadows by the porch there was a girl. She was arguing, too, and glancing up in wonderment at Johnny. It was Kitten.

“What’s the trouble here?” cried Read.

“It’s this big bum,” said Johnny, venomously. “He was shoving this girl around. I punched him one in the nose and I’ll do it again if he doesn’t keep his mouth shut.”

“What about this, Johnson?” cried Captain Boyce.

“Aw, this gal’s been bothering me all evening. She’s been bothering everybody. Said she had to see the Governor. She’s tried to sneak in here fifty times. This time I caught her just as she was going in the outer office. How she got past the boys I don’t know.”

“That’s all right,” said Johnny, “but you don’t need to shove her around. It don’t go with me, see?”

“Shut up, Johnny,” said Read. “I don’t know what you’re doing here besides making a nuisance of yourself, but save it.”

“Anyway, I didn’t know he was the Governor’s son,” said Johnson, sullenly. “I kept telling this gal to come back tomorrow when the election was over, but she just…”

“All right, Johnson,” said Boyce. “What about this girl, Governor?”

Read hesitated. Kitten was looking at him pleadingly. Her clothes were all mussed as if she had slept in them; she looked done up.

“Come into my office, Miss Reese,” he said. “You, too, Johnny. It’s all right, Johnson. You were doing your duty. I want to apologize for my son.”

“That’s all right, Governor. I’m sorry if I caused anybody any trouble.”

“It was the way you did it,” said Johnny, still boiling.

“If you’d been pestered by cranks all day like I have…”

“Never mind, Johnson,” said Boyce.

Read went into his office, followed by Kitten and Johnny. Kitten smiled up at Johnny, saying “thank you” with her eyes, and Johnny was all politeness, taking Kitten by the arm and helping her along solicitously as if she were at least seventy.

Read turned.

“Sit down, you two.”

They sat down, smiled at each other, then looked at Read.

“First, Johnny,” said Read, “I want to explain about Miss Reese. She’s a very deserving girl and has had a hard time. I told her that after the election I’d see that she got a State job, part time so that she could go to business school. I was seen talking to her. Some of my friends misunderstood, and she was kidnapped…”

Johnny looked at his father skeptically, then turned to Kitten.

“Were you really kidnapped?”

“Yes,” cried Kitten. “Gee, I was so scared. Two men and a woman got me into a car and before I knew it… Anyway, they got tight and I ran away from them today. They had me at a farm near Sunnyvale. I didn’t hardly know where I was. I had to hitchhike in. And then them soldiers out there…”

“Big bums!” said Johnny.

Kitten smiled at Johnny, making her eyes big.

Read cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“Miss Reese,” he said, “I’ll send you home. I’ll arrange to see you next Monday morning. I suppose you’ve lost your job.”

“Oh, yes. They’re very strict at the Massey.”

“Have you any money?”

“Yes. I’ve got quite a lot. One of the men gave me twenty dollars. He said somebody told him to give it to me.”

“That will hold you over till Monday, won’t it?”

“Oh, sure.”

Johnny sat staring at Kitten. Read felt like kicking him.

“Look,” said Johnny. “I’ll take you home. I’ve got a U-Drive-It heap parked over on East Broad.”

“Oh, no,” said Read. “I want to talk to you, young man.”

“Well, Lord,” said Johnny, “she oughtn’t to be riding around in taxis at this time of night alone. You better let me take her, Dad.”

“That’s enough out of you.” Read rang for the outer office and took up the receiver. “Get me a taxi right away, Harold. Has Barney come yet? All right. Tell him to wait.”

Kitten smiled at Johnny.

“I don’t mind riding around alone. I’m used to it. I can take care of myself. Don’t you worry.”

Read sat looking at them. He’d brought it all on himself by his inexcusable silliness. Johnny and Kitten seemed just the right age for each other. Read flushed heavily and turned away to hide his embarrassment. “I’m glad I had a little sense, anyway,” he told himself.

“This town is just full of rowdies tonight,” said Johnny.

Kitten laughed.

“Oh, Governor, I wish you could have seen that soldier’s face when Johnny hit him.”

Johnny smiled slightly and said:

“I should’ve pasted him another one. I wish I had.” Then he leaned toward Kitten. “Say, what’s your name? I can’t go around calling you ‘Miss.’ ”

“Everybody calls me Kitten. My name’s Mary, though. I don’t like it. It’s too simple. I used to call myself, Ramona, but I don’t know, I kind of got tired of that.”

Read grimaced, very much annoyed. Word for word! And there was Johnny, drinking it all in, as if some oracle were speaking.