Native Son Part 17

For a long time after she had gone he did not move from his tracks. Then, slowly, he looked round the bas.e.m.e.nt, turning his head like an animal with eyes and ears alert, searching to see if anything was amiss. The room was exactly as he had left it last night. He walked about, looking closer. All at once he stopped, his eyes widening. Directly in front of him he saw a small piece of blood-stained newspaper lying in the livid reflection cast by the cracks in the door of the furnace. Had Peggy seen that? He ran to the light and turned it out and ran back and looked at the piece of paper. He could barely see it. That meant that Peggy had not seen it. How about Mary? Had she burned? He turned the light back on and picked up the piece of paper. He glanced to the left and right to see if anyone was watching, then opened the furnace door and peered in, his eyes filled with the vision of Mary and her b.l.o.o.d.y throat. The inside of the furnace breathed and quivered in the grip of fiery coals. But there was no sign of the body, even though the body's image hovered before his eyes, between his eyes and the bed of coals burning hotly. Like the oblong mound of fresh clay of a newly made grave, the red coals revealed the bent outline of Mary's body He had the feeling that if he simply touched that red oblong mound with his finger it would cave in and Mary's body would come into full view, unburnt. The coals had the appearance of having burnt the body beneath, leaving the glowing embers formed into a sh.e.l.l of red hotness with a hollowed s.p.a.ce in the center, keeping still in the embrace of the quivering coals the huddled shape of Mary's body. He blinked his eyes and became aware that he still held the piece of paper in his hand. He lifted it to the level of the door and the draft sucked it from his fingers; he watched it fly into the red trembling heat, smoke, turn black, blaze, then vanish.

He shut the door and pulled the lever for more coal. The rattling of the tiny lumps against the tin sides of the chute came loudly to his ears as the oblong mound of red fire turned gradually black and blazed from the fanwise spreading of coal whirling into the furnace. He shut off the lever and stood up; things were all right so far. As long as no one poked round in that fire, things would be all right. He himself did not want to poke in it, for fear that some part of Mary was still there. If things could go on like this until afternoon, Mary would be burned enough to make him safe. He turned and looked at the trunk again. Oh! He must not forget! He had to put those Communist pamphlets in his room right away. He ran back of the furnace, up the steps to his room and placed the pamphlets smoothly and neatly in a corner of his dresser drawer. Yes, they would have to be stacked neatly. No one must think that he had read them.

He went back to the bas.e.m.e.nt, dragged the trunk to the door, lifted it to his back, carried it to the car and fastened it to the running board. He looked at his watch; it was eight-twenty. Now, he would have to wait for Mary to come out. He took his seat at the steering wheel and waited for five minutes. He would ring the bell for her. He looked at the steps leading up to the side door of the house, remembering how Mary had stumbled last night and how he had held her up. Then, involuntarily, he started in fright as a full blast of intense sunshine fell from the sky, making the snow leap and glitter and sparkle about him in a world of magic whiteness without sound. It's getting late! He would have to go in and ask for Miss Dalton. If he stayed here too long it would seem that he was not expecting her to come down. He got out of the car and walked up the steps to the side door. He looked through the gla.s.s; no one was in sight. He tried to open the door and found it locked. He pushed the bell, hearing the gong sound softly within. He waited a moment, then saw Peggy hurrying down the hall. She opened the door.

"Hasn't she come out yet?"

"No'm. And it's getting late."

"Wait. I'll call her."

Peggy, still dressed in the kimono, ran up the stairs, the same stairs up which he had half-dragged Mary and the same stairs down which he had stumbled with the trunk last night. Then he saw Peggy coming back down the stairs, much slower than she had gone up. She came to the door.

"She ain't here. Maybe she's gone. What did she tell you?"

"She said to drive her to the station and to take her trunk, mam."

"Well, she ain't in her room and she ain't in Mrs. Dalton's room. And Mr. Dalton's asleep. Did she tell you she was going this morning?"

"That's what she told me last night, mam."

"She told you to bring the trunk down last night?"

"Yessum."

Peggy thought a moment, looking past him at the snow-covered car.

"Well, you better take the trunk on. Maybe she didn't stay here last night."

"Yessum."

He turned and started down the steps.

"Bigger!"

"Yessum."

"You say she told you to leave the car out, all night night?"

"Yessum."

"Did she say she was going to use it again?"

"No'm. You see," Bigger said, feeling his way, "he was in it...."

"Who?"

"The gentleman."

"Oh; yes. Take the trunk on. I suppose Mary was up to some of her pranks."

He got into the car and pulled it down the driveway to the street, then headed northward over the snow. He wanted to look back and see if Peggy was watching him, but dared not. That would make her think that he thought that something was wrong, and he did not want to give that impression now. Well, at least he had one person thinking it as he wanted it thought.

He reached the La Salle Street Station, pulled the car to a platform, backed into a narrow s.p.a.ce between other cars, hoisted the trunk up, and waited for a man to give him a ticket for the trunk. He wondered what would happen if no one called for it. Maybe they would notify Mr. Dalton. Well, he would wait and see. He had done his part. Miss Dalton had asked him to take the trunk to the station and he had done it.

He drove as hurriedly back to the Daltons' as the snow-covered streets would allow him. He wanted to be back on the spot to see what would happen, to be there with his fingers on the pulse of time. He reached the driveway and nosed the car into the garage, locked it, and then stood wondering if he ought to go to his room or to the kitchen. It would be better to go straight to the kitchen as though nothing had happened. He had not as yet eaten his breakfast as far as Peggy was concerned, and his coming into the kitchen would be thought natural. He went through the bas.e.m.e.nt, pausing to look at the roaring furnace, and then went to the kitchen door and stepped in softly. Peggy stood at the gas stove with her back to him. She turned and gave him a brief glance.

"You make it all right?"

"Yessum."

"You see her down there?"

"No'm."

"Hungry?"

"A little, mam."

"A little?" Peggy laughed. "You'll get used to how this house is run on Sundays. n.o.body gets up early and when they do they're almost famished."

"I'm all right, mam."

"That was the only kick Green had while he was working here," Peggy said. "He swore we starved him on Sundays."

Bigger forced a smile and looked down at the black and white linoleum on the floor. What would she think if she knew? He felt very kindly toward Peggy just then; he felt he had something of value which she could never take from him even if she despised him. He heard a phone ring in the hallway. Peggy straightened and looked at him as she wiped her hands on her ap.r.o.n.

"Who on earth's calling here this early on a Sunday morning?" she mumbled.

She went out and he sat, waiting. Maybe that was Jan asking about Mary. He remembered that Mary had promised to call him. He wondered how long it took to go to Detroit. Five or six hours? It was not far. Mary's train had already gone. About four o'clock she would be due in Detroit. Maybe someone had planned to meet her? If she was not on the train, would they call or wire about it? Peggy came back, went to the stove and continued cooking.

"Things'll be ready in a minute," she said.

"Yessum."

Then she turned to him.

"Who was the gentleman with Miss Dalton last night?"

"I don't know, mam. I think she called him Jan, or something like that."

"Jan? He just called," Peggy said. She tossed her head and her lips tightened. "He's a no-good one, if there ever was one. One of them anarchists who's agin the government."

Bigger listened and said nothing.

"What on earth a good girl like Mary wants to hang around with that crazy bunch for, G.o.d only knows. Nothing good'll come of it, just you mark my word. If it wasn't for that Mary and her wild ways, this household would run like a clock. It's such a pity, too. Her mother's the very soul of goodness. And there never was a finer man than Mr. Dalton.... But later on Mary'll settle down. They all do. They think they're missing something unless they kick up their heels when they're young and foolish...."

She brought a bowl of hot oatmeal and milk to him and he began to eat. He had difficulty in swallowing, for he had no appet.i.te. But he forced the food down. Peggy talked on and he wondered what he should say to her; he found that he could say nothing. Maybe she was not expecting him to say anything. Maybe she was talking to him because she had no one else to talk to, like his mother did sometimes. Yes; he would see about the fire again when he got to the bas.e.m.e.nt. He would fill that furnace as full of coal as it would get and make sure that Mary burned in a hurry. The hot cereal was making him sleepy and he suppressed a yawn.

"What all I got to do today, mam?"

"Just wait on call. Sunday's a dull day. Maybe Mr. or Mrs. Dalton'll go out."

"Yessum."

He finished the oatmeal.

"You want me to do anything now?"

"No. But you're not through eating. You want some ham and eggs?"

"No'm. I got a plenty."

"Well, it's right here for you. Don't be afraid to ask for it."

"I reckon I'll see about the fire now."

"All right, Bigger. Just you listen for the bell about two o'clock. Till then I don't think there'll be anything."

He went to the bas.e.m.e.nt. The fire was blazing. The embers glowed red and the draft droned upward. It did not need any coal. Again he looked round the bas.e.m.e.nt, into every nook and corner, to see if he had left any trace of what had happened last night. There was none.

He went to his room and lay on the bed. Well; here he was now. What would happen? The room was quiet. No! He heard something! He c.o.c.ked his head, listening. He caught faint sounds of pots and pans rattling in the kitchen below. He got up and walked to the far end of the room; the sounds came louder. He heard the soft but firm tread of Peggy as she walked across the kitchen floor. She's right under me, he thought. He stood still, listening. He heard Mrs. Dalton's voice, then Peggy's. He stooped and put his ear to the floor. Were they talking about Mary? He could not make out what they were saying. He stood up and looked round. A foot from him was the door of the clothes closet. He opened it; the voices came clearly. He went into the closet and the planks squeaked; he stopped. Had they heard him? Would they think he was snooping? Oh! He had an idea! He got his suitcase and opened it and took out an armful of clothes. If anyone came into the room it would seem that he was putting his clothes away He went into the closet and listened.

"...you mean the car stayed out all night night in the driveway?" in the driveway?"

"Yes; he said she told him to leave it there."

"What time was that?"

"I don't know, Mrs. Dalton. I didn't ask him."

"I don't understand this at all."

"Oh, she's all right. I don't think you need worry."

"But she didn't even leave a note, Peggy. That's not like Mary. Even when she ran away to New York that time she at least left a note."

"Maybe she hasn't gone. Maybe something came up and she stayed out all night, Mrs. Dalton."

"But why would she leave the car out?"

"I don't know."

"And he said a man was with her?"

"It was that Jan, I think, Mrs. Dalton."

"Jan?"

"Yes; the one who was with her in Florida."

"She just won't won't leave those awful people alone." leave those awful people alone."

"He called here this morning, asking for her."

"Called here here?"

"Yes."

"And what did he say?"

"He seemed sort of peeved when I told him she was gone."

"What can that poor child be up to? She told me she was not seeing him any more."

"Maybe she she had him to call, Mrs. Dalton...." had him to call, Mrs. Dalton...."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, mam, I was kind of thinking that maybe she's with him again, like that time she was in Florida. And maybe she had him to call to see if we knew she was gone...."

"Oh, Peggy!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, mam.... Maybe she stayed with some friends of hers?"

"But she was in her room room at two o'clock this morning, Peggy. Whose house would she go to at that hour?" at two o'clock this morning, Peggy. Whose house would she go to at that hour?"

"Mrs. Dalton, I noticed something when I went to her room this morning."

"What?"

"Well, mam, it looks like her bed wasn't slept in at all. The cover wasn't even pulled back. Looks like somebody had just stretched out awhile and then got up...."

"Oh!"

Bigger listened intently, but there was silence. They knew that something was wrong now. He heard Mrs. Dalton's voice again, quavering with doubt and fear.

"Then she didn't didn't sleep here last night?" sleep here last night?"

"Looks like she didn't."

"Did that boy say Jan was in the car?"

"Yes. I thought something was strange about the car being left out in the snow all night, and so I asked him. He said she told him to leave the car there and he said Jan was in it."

"Listen, Peggy...."

"Yes, Mrs. Dalton."