The Kill-off Part 11

I was sorry afterwards that I'd said anything like that to Ralph. Because I was perfectly willing to do what I said I would and heck of a lot more. But it might have sounded a little shocking to say so. I mean, even if I wasn't a woman, if I was Ralph, say, and I said something like that to me, why I'd-oh, well, you know what I mean.

It was best to keep things the way they'd been, except for that once. Talking about what had to be done, but not really talking about it. Not actually admitting that we were talking about it.

By doing that, you see, we'd never really know. There'd never be anything to make us uncomfortable about each other. After all, she was a pretty old woman. Her health was bad, and everyone in town hated her guts. And, well, all sorts of things could happen to her, without us having a thing to do with them.

And neither of us would need to know that we had unless . . .

The weeks raced by. They went by like days, and before we knew it the season was almost over. And we were still talking, and nothing had happened.

Then, that Monday night came.

The dance hall was closed that night. Ralph was working there-not any regular hours, but just until he got through. We weren't seeing each other afterwards, because I had a sore throat.

I don't know how I got it exactly. Maybe from sleeping in a draft. Anyway, it wasn't really bad, and if I'd been anything but a singer I wouldn't have bothered to call a doctor.

I was sitting out on the stoop when he came. He painted my throat, looking kind of nervous and haggard, and then he asked me why I hadn't been in the first time he called.

"I spend thirty minutes finding the right cottage," he said, "and then when I finally locate it-"

"I'm so sorry about that, doctor," I said. "You see, I was taking a shower, and it was some time before I heard you calling and pounding at the cottage next door. I came right out as soon as I did, but-"

"W-what?" he said. "The cottage next . . . ?"

"Uh-huh. It's unoccupied; so many of them are.. . But I thought you saw me, doctor. I ran out on the stoop and called to you, just as you were driving away, and I thought you called and motioned to me. I supposed you meant you had no more time right then, and you'd have to come back later."

He looked at me blankly for a moment. Then, his eyes flickered in a kind of funny way, and he snapped his fingers.

"Why, of course," he said. "Now, that I see you in the light, I can . . . You had a robe on, didn't you, and a-uh- did you have a bathing cap?"

"That's right," I said. "A robe and a bathing cap, because I'd just come out of the shower. I suppose I looked quite a bit different than-"

"Not a bit," he said firmly. "Not a particle. I'd have recognized you instantly, if it hadn't been so fixed in my mind that you were in the other cottage. Let's see, now-about what time was that?"

I told him I guessed it was a little after eight. Somewhere along in there. Just about the time it was getting dark.

"You're right," he said. "You're absolutely right, Miss Lee. Let me compliment you on your memory."

"Now, that's real sweet of you, doctor," I said. "But, after all, why shouldn't I remember? I mean, a girl just about couldn't forget anything connected with a distinguished looking gentleman like you."

I smiled at him, looking up from under the lids of my eyes. He beamed and harrumphed his throat, and said I was a very fine young lady.

He repeated that several times while he was repacking his medicine kit. He said he wanted me to take very good care of myself, and any time I needed him, regardless of the hour, I was to let him know.

I thought he was awfully sweet and nice. Kind of distinguished and mature, like Ralph. He asked if he might use my phone, and I said, why certainly, and he called a number.

"Hank?" he said. "Jim . . . Just wanted to tell you that it's-you know-all right . . . I remembered where-I mean, I can account positively for the time. There's a young lady who saw me, recognized my car and my voice, and.. . Who? Well, that one. The one we were discussing. She-What? Why-yes, I suppose that's true. I hadn't thought about it that way, but . . ."

I'd gone over by the door to be polite; so that it wouldn't look like I was snooping, you know. He turned around and looked at me, kind of frowning as he went on talking.

"Yes. Yes, I see. Naturally, unless I was sure that she- unless there was an observer I could hardly be observed. But . . . Yes, Hank. That's the way I feel. On the one hand . . . Absolutely. Had to be. No reason to consider it anything else . . . Exactly, Hank! And as long as that's the case . . . Fine, ha, ha, fine. See you, Hank . . ."

He hung up the receiver. He picked up his medicine kit, gave me a funny little nod, and started out the door. On the stoop he paused for a moment and turned around, facing me.

"Allow me to compliment you again," he said. "You're a very smart young woman, Miss Lee."

"Now, that is sweet," I said. "That's a real compliment . . . coming from a smart man like you."

I gave him another under-the-eyelids smile. He turned suddenly, and left.

I thought he seemed a little cranky. I wondered if he thought I hadn't really seen him that first time-because actually, I hadn't. I said I had because he'd started off being so cross, and I was afraid he might think I hadn't been at home when he called. But all I'd really seen was his car driving away. Or a car that looked like his.

Oh, well. Probably I was just imagining things. After all, he remembered seeing me perfectly, so why should he think I hadn't seen him?

I put on some make-up and went out on the beach. I sat down with my back to the ocean. After a while, I saw a light come on in Rags McGuire's cottage. I walked down to it, and knocked on the door.

He was sitting on the side of the bed, drinking out of a bottle. He's been drinking a lot lately, but on Mondays he drinks more than usual.

"Well!" he said. "If it isn't little Miss Bosoms, the girl with the tinplated tonsils! How come they let you out, baby, or ain't you been in yet?"

"I don't know what you're talking about and I don't care," I said, "and all I've got to say to you is I'm quitting, you mean hateful, dirty old-old-"

"b.a.s.t.a.r.d, son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h, wh.o.r.emonger," he said. "Now, you sit right down there, honey, and I'll think up some more for you. I'll do that, an' you tell me where you were around eight o'clock tonight."

"If it's any of your business," I said, "I was in my cottage at eight o'clock and for all the rest of the evening. I had a sore throat, and the doctor saw me about eight and again just a little while ago, if it's any possible concern of yours."

His eyes widened. He broke out laughing suddenly, slapping his knee. "Doc Ashton? Oh, brother! You two-you and Doc Ashton! Will this burn a certain little lawyer I know! Who dreamed it up, baby, you or Doc?"

"I haven't the faintest notion of what you're talking about," I said. "But since you seem to be so curious as to my whereabouts at certain times, perhaps I might inquire about yours."

His laugh went away. He put the bottle on the floor, sat staring into the neck of it as if there was something there besides the whiskey.

"I don't know," he said. "I don't know where I was. But I was all alone, Danny. I was all alone."

It seemed awful silent then. The only sound was the waves, lap-lapping, whispering against the sand.

I began to get sort of a funny feeling in my throat. I was just about to say I'd work out the rest of the season-these last two weeks-but he spoke first.

"So you're quitting, huh? Well, that's something. That's at least one break you've given me."

Then he got up and came over to me, and took my face between his hands. "You didn't mean it, Danny, and I didn't mean it. Besides, I don't want you to leave, Danny. Besides, I love you, Danny."

He stooped and kissed me on the forehead.

I said, "Rags . . . Oh, g-gosh, Rags. I-"

"I couldn't keep you any longer," he said. "I couldn't pay you, understand? But I think you're one of the finest girls I've ever known, and I think you have one of the very finest voices I've ever heard. I wished you'd go on with it; I did wish that. But now . . . now, I know you mustn't. It would never do. Because the one thing is all you can have, Danny-the music is all you can have, Danny-and if it isn't enough . . ."

He took his hands away from my face, let them slide down my arms. Then he scowled suddenly, and gave me a shake. "Posture!" he said. "G.o.ddammit, how many times do I have to tell you? You've got two feet, haven't you? You're not an obstetrical case, are you? Well, stand on them then, by G.o.d."

I said I was sorry. I stood like he'd told me to, like he'd taught me to.

"All right," he said. "Let's have it. Make it Stardust. Even you can't b.i.t.c.h that one . . . Well, what are you waiting for?"

"I-I c-can't!" I said. "Oh, R-Rags, I-"

He ran his hands through his hair. "Okay, go on! Get the h.e.l.l-no, wait a minute. Sit down over there, right there, dammit. I'll let you hear Stardust like it ought to be sung . . . almost."

I sat down by his desk. He sat down in the other chair, and put in a long-distance call to his wife.

The call went through, and he held the receiver a little away from his ear.

"Hi, Janie," he said. "How's it going? How are the boys . . . ?"

I couldn't understand what she said, because it was just kind of sounds instead of words. A sort of quack-quacking like a duck would make.

"They're asleep, eh? Well, that's fine. Don't bother to wake them up . . ."

The boys couldn't be waked up. Never, ever.

"Listen, Janie. I've got a kid here I want you to sing for. I-Janie! I said I wanted you to sing, understand? . . . Well, get with it, then. Give me Stardust, and give it loud. This kid here is pretty tone-deaf . . ."

She couldn't sing, of course. How can you sing when you don't have a nose and only part of a tongue, and no teeth . . . and hardly any place to put teeth? But there was a click and a scratch; and her voice came over the wire.

It was pretty wonderful, her singing Stardust. A platter has to be pretty wonderful to sell three million copies. But Rags had started frowning. He squirmed in his chair, and the cigarette in the corner of his mouth began a kind of nervous up-and-down moving.

He held the receiver away from him. He looked at it, frowning, and then he lowered it slowly toward the hook. And the farther down it went, the farther it was away from him, the more his frown faded. And when it was completely down, when the connection was broken, he wasn't frowning any more. He was smiling.

It was a kind of smile I'd never seen before. A dreamy, far-off smile. One of his hands moved slowly back and forth, up and down, and one of his feet tap-tapped silently against the floor.

"Do you hear it, Danny?" he said softly. "Do you hear the music?"

"Yes," I said. "Yes, I hear the music, Rags."

"The music," he said. "The music never goes away, Danny. The music never goes away . . ."

10: HENRY CLAY WILLIAMS.

I knew from the moment I sat down at the table that morning that I was in for trouble. I knew it before Lily had said a word. Probably most men wouldn't have, even if they had lived in the same house with a sister as long as I have with Lily, but I'm an unusually close observer. I notice little things. No matter how small it is, I'll see it and interpret it. And nine times out of ten my interpretation will be correct. I've trained myself to do it. A man has to, as I see it, if he wants to get ahead. Of course, if he doesn't, if he wants to remain a small-town lawyer all his life instead of becoming the chief legal officer of the sixteenth-largest county in the state, why that's his privilege.

I began to eat, knowing that Lily was going to land on me, and why, and trying to prepare myself for it. Finally, when she still held back, I gave her a little prod.

"I notice you're running low on pepper," I said. "Remind me to bring some home tonight."

"What? Pepper?" she said. "What makes you think I'm running low?"

"Why, I just supposed you were," I said. "You have plenty? There's still plenty in your kitchen shaker?"

She sighed, and pursed her lips together. She sat looking at me silently, her gla.s.ses twinkling and flashing in the morning sunlight.

"I just wondered," I said. "I noticed that you only peppered one of my eggs when you cooked them, so..

"Is there a pepper-shaker in front of you?" she said. "Well, is there or isn't there, or hadn't you noticed?"

She sounded unusually irritable for some reason. I said, why, of course, I'd noticed the shaker, and it didn't matter at all about the eggs.

"I was simply curious about them," I said. "You always pepper them, each one the same amount, so naturally I wondered why you hadn't-"

"I see," she said. "Yes, I can see how you might get pretty excited about it. It would be a pretty big thing to a big man like you."

"Now, I didn't say I was excited," I said. "I said nothing of the kind, Lily. If my memory serves me correctly-and I think you'll agree that it usually does-the words I used were 'curious' and 'wonder."

I nodded to her, and put a bite of egg in my mouth. Her lips tightened, then she spoke shaky-voiced. "So you were curious, were you? You were wondering? You were curious and wondering about why I hadn't peppered an egg! Well, I'll tell you something I'm curious and wondering about, and that's what you intend to do when you are no longer the chief legal officer of the sixteenth largest county in the state. For after the elections this fall, Mr. Henry Clay Williams, you're going to be out of a job!"

She deliberately timed that last with the moment when I was taking a swallow of coffee to wash the egg down. I coughed and choked, feeling my face turn red. The egg tried to go one way and the coffee another, and for a long moment I was certain I'd strangle.

"Now, G.o.ddammit," I said, when I was able to speak. "Why-what the h.e.l.l-"

"Henry! Henry! Don't you use that language in this house!" Lily said.

"But-it's-it's crazy! Outrageous! Why, I've always been-I mean I've been county attorney since-"

"Very well," she said. "Very well, Henry. But don't forget that I warned you."

She got up and started to clear off the table. I hadn't finished breakfast yet-although I certainly didn't feel like eating any more-but she went right ahead, regardless.

The bulge under her ap.r.o.n seemed larger today. I glanced quickly away from it, as her eyes shifted toward me. It was very annoying, that tumor. Having to live with it constantly, and yet never daring to look at it, let alone to discuss it. Perhaps it wouldn't have been for most men, but when you have trained yourself as I have-when you are used to observing and . . .

I observed that her gla.s.ses had an unusually high sparkle this morning. Obviously, then-I was immediately aware-there must be some dust on them. She couldn't keep her gla.s.ses clean, and yet she was trying to pa.s.s herself off as a prophet!

I was about to make some pointed reference to these facts. But she left for the kitchen at that moment with a load of dishes, and when she returned I decided it wasn't wise. After all, you don't cure a trouble by adding to it. That's always been my policy, at least, and it's worked out very well. If- Out of a job! Lose the election!

She was seated at the table again. She looked at me, nodded slowly, as if I had spoken out loud.

"Yes, Henry. Yes. And if you had any brains at all, you wouldn't need me to tell you so."

"Now, see here, Lily," I said. "I-"

"Any brains at all, Henry. Or if you were even capable of listening. Hearing anything besides the sound of your own voice or your own thoughts, anything that might deflate the largest ego in the sixteenth largest county in the state. You're a fool, Henry. You're a-"

"I am, am I?" I said. "Well, I guess I know how to keep my gla.s.ses clean, anyway!"

The gla.s.ses flickered and flashed. Her eyes squeezed shut behind them for a moment. Then, she opened them again, keeping them narrowed; and her nostrils twitched and flared. And I knew the explosion was coming.

"Listen to me, Henry. What I'm saying is not for myself. I don't expect you to have any consideration for me, your own sister who has practically given up her life for you, taken care of you since you were wet behind the ears. I don't expect you to care if I'm so slandered and gossiped about that I'm almost ashamed to go out in public. I'm only concerned about you, as I've always been, and that's why I'm saying you are going to lose the election unless you get up a little s.p.u.n.k, and act like a man for a change instead of a fat, blind, stupid, egotistical jellyfish!"