The Optimist's Daughter Part 2

The door stood wide open, and inside the room's darkness a watery constellation hung, throbbing and near. She was looking straight out at the whole Mississippi River Bridge in lights. She found her way, the night light was burning. Her father's right arm was free of the cover and lay out on the bed. It was bare to the shoulder, its skin soft and gathered, like a woman's sleeve. It showed her that he was no longer concentrating. At the sting in her eyes, she remembered for him that there must be no tears in his, and she reached to put her hand into his open hand and press it gently.

He made what seemed to her a response at last, yet a mysterious response. His whole, pillowless head went dusky, as if he laid it under the surface of dark, pouring water and held it there.

Every light in the room blazed on. Dr. Courtland, a dark shape, shoved past her to the bed. He set his fingertips to her father's wrist. Then his hand pa.s.sed over the operated eye; with its same delicacy it opened the good eye. He bent over and stared in, without speaking. He knocked back the sheet and laid the side of his head against her father's gowned chest; for a moment his own eyes closed.

It was her father who appeared to Laurel as the one listening. His upper lip had lifted, short and soft as a child's, showing ghostly-pale teeth which no one ever saw when he spoke or laughed. It gave him the smile of a child who is hiding in the dark while the others hunt him, waiting to be found.

Now the doctor's hand swung and drove for the signal b.u.t.ton. "Get out in a hurry. And collar his wife and hold her. Both of you go in the waiting room, stay there till I come."

The nurse pushed into the room, with another nurse at her shoulder.

"Now what did he he pull?" Mrs. Martello cried. pull?" Mrs. Martello cried.

The other nurse whipped the curtains along the rod between the two beds, shutting out Mr. Dalzell's neat, vacated bed and the rocking chair with the felt hat hanging on it. With her toe, she kicked out of her way the fallen window blind lying there on the floor.

Dr. Courtland, using both hands, drew Laurel outside the room. "Laurel, no time to lose." He closed the door on her.

But in the hall, she heard him give an answer to the nurse. "The renegade! I believe he's just plain sneaked out on us."

In the waiting room, Fay stood being patted by an old woman who was wearing bedroom slippers and holding a half-eaten banana in her free hand.

"Night after night, sitting up there with him, putting the food in his mouth, giving him his straw, letting him use up my cigarettes, keeping him from thinking!" Fay was crying on the woman's bosom. "Then to get hauled out by an uppity nurse who doesn't know my business from hers!"

Laurel went up to her. "Fay, it can't be much more serious. The doctor's closed in with Father now."

"Never speak to me again!" shrieked Fay without turning around. "That nurse dragged me and pushed me, and you're the one let her do it!"

"Dr. Courtland wants us to stay here till he calls us."

"You bet I'm staying! Just wait till he hears what I've got to say to him!" cried Fay.

"You pore little woman," said the old woman easily. "Don't they give us all a hard time."

"I believe he's dying," said Laurel.

Fay spun around, darted out her head, and spat at her.

The old woman said, "Now whoa. Why don't you-all take a seat and save your strength? Just wait and let them come tell you about it. They will." There was an empty chair in the circle pulled up around a table, and Fay sat down among five or six grown men and women who all had the old woman's likeness. Their coats were on the table in a heap together, and open s...o...b..xes and paper sacks stood about on the floor; they were a family in the middle of their supper.

Laurel began walking, past this group and the others who were sprawled or sleeping in chairs and on couches, past the television screen where a pale-blue group of Westerners silently shot it out with one another, and as far as the door into the hall, where she stood for a minute looking at the clock in the wall above the elevators, then walked her circle again.

The family Fay had sat down with never let the conversation die.

"Go on in there, Archie Lee, it's still your turn," the old woman said.

"I ain't ready to go." A great hulking man in a short coat like a red blanket, who was too gray-headed to be her child, spoke like her child and took a drink from a pint bottle of whiskey.

"They still ain't letting us in but one at a time. It's your turn," the old woman said. She went on to Fay. "You from Mississippi? We're from Mississippi. Most of us claims Fox Hill."

"I'm not not from Mississippi. I'm from Texas." She let out a long cry. from Mississippi. I'm from Texas." She let out a long cry.

"Yours been operated on? Ours been operated on," said one of the daughters to Fay. "He's been in intensive care ever since they got through with him. His chances are a hundred to one against."

"Go on in yonder, scare-cat," ordered the mother.

"They went in my husband's eye without consulting my feelings and next they try to run me out of this hospital!" cried Fay.

"Mama, it's Archie Lee's turn, and I come after you. Go yourself," said the daughter.

"I reckon you'll have to excuse me a minute," the old woman said to Fay. She began brushing at her bosom where Fay had cried, shaking herself to get the crumbs off her skirt. "I declare, I'm getting to where I ain't got much left to say to Dad myself."

"You know what his face looks like to me? A piece of paper," said a wizened-looking daughter.

"I ain't going to tell him that," said the old woman.

"Tell him you ain't got too much longer to stay," suggested one of the sons.

"Ask him if he knows who you are," said the wizened-looking daughter.

"Or you can just try keeping your mouth shut," said Archie Lee.

"He's your dad, the same as mine," warned the old woman. "I'm going in because you skipped your turn. Now wait for me! Don't run off and leave me."

"He don't know I'm living," said Archie Lee, as the woman trudged through the doorway in Indian moccasins. He tilted up the bottle: Mr. Dalzell's son, long lost.

Fay sobbed the louder after the old woman went.

"How you like Mississippi?" Mr. Dalzell's family asked, almost in a chorus. "Don't you think it's friendly?" asked the wizened daughter.

"I guess I'm used to Texas."

"Mississippi is the best state in the Union," said Archie Lee and he put his feet up and stretched out full length on the couch.

"I didn't say I didn't have kin here. I had a grandpa living close to Bigbee, Mississippi," Fay said.

"Now you're talking!" the youngest girl said. "We know right where Bigbee is, could find it for you right now. Fox Hill is harder to find than Bigbee. But we we don't think it's lonesome, because by the time you get all of us together, there's nine of us, not counting the tadpoles. Ten, if Granddad gets over this. He's got cancer." don't think it's lonesome, because by the time you get all of us together, there's nine of us, not counting the tadpoles. Ten, if Granddad gets over this. He's got cancer."

"Cancer's what my dad had. And Grandpa! Grandpa loved me better than all the rest. That sweet old man, he died in my arms," Fay said, glaring at Laurel across the room. "They died, but not before they did every bit they could to help themselves, and tried all their might to get better, for our sakes. They said they knew, if they just tried hard enough-"

"I always tell mine to have faith," said the wizened daughter.

And as if their vying and trouble-swapping were the order of the day, or the order of the night, in the waiting room, they were all as unaware of the pa.s.sing of the minutes as the man on the couch, whose dangling hand now let the bottle drop and slide like an empty slipper across the floor into Laurel's path. She walked on, giving them the wide berth of her desolation.

"Wish they'd give Dad something to drink. Wash his mouth out," said the old mother coming back-Laurel nearly met her in the door.

"Remember Mamie's boy?" Another family had come in, grouping themselves around the c.o.ke machine. The man who was working it called out, "He shot hisself or somebody shot him, one. He begged for water. The hospital wouldn't give him none. Honey, he died wanting water."

"I remember Joe Boy Bush from Bruintown," a man retorted, turning around from the television screen. "He was laying there going without water and he he reached himself over and bit that tube in two and drunk that glucose. And drunk ever' drop that was in it. And that fool, in two weeks he was up out of that bed and they send him home." reached himself over and bit that tube in two and drunk that glucose. And drunk ever' drop that was in it. And that fool, in two weeks he was up out of that bed and they send him home."

"Two weeks! Guess how long they've held us here!" cried Fay.

"If they don't give your dad no water by next time round, tell you what, we'll go in there all together and pour it down him," promised the old mother. "If he's going to die, I don't want him to die wanting water."

"That's talking, Mama."

"Ain't that true, Archie Lee?"

But Archie Lee lay on the couch with his mouth open.

"There's a fair sight. I'm glad his dad can't walk in on us and see him," said the old woman. "No, if Dad's going to die I ain't going to let him die wanting water!" she insisted, and the others began raggedly laughing.

"We'll pour it down him!" cried the mother. "He ain't going to stand a chance against us!" The family laughed louder, as if there could be no helping it. Some of the other families joined in. It seemed to Laurel that in another moment the whole waiting room would dissolve itself in waiting-room laughter.

Dr. Courtland stood in the doorway, the weight of his watch in his hand.

When Laurel and Fay reached him, he drew them into the elevator hall. The door to Judge McKelva's room stood closed.

"I couldn't save him." He laid a hand on the sleeve of each woman, standing between them. He bent his head, but that did not hide the aggrievement, indignation, that was in his voice. "He's gone, and his eye was healing."

"Are you trying to tell me you let my husband die?" Fay cried.

"He collapsed." Fatigue had pouched the doctor's face, his cheeks hung gray. He kept his touch on their arms.

"You picked my birthday to do it on!" Fay screamed out, just as Mrs. Martello came out of the room. She closed the door behind her. She was carrying a hamper. She pretended not to see them as she drummed past on her heels.

Laurel felt the Doctor's hand shift to grip her arm; she had been about to go straight to the unattended. He began walking the two women toward the elevators. Laurel became aware that he was in evening clothes.

At the elevator he got in with them, still standing between them. "Maybe we asked too much of him," he said grudgingly. "And yet he didn't have to hold out much longer." He looked protestingly at the lighted floors flashing by. "I'd been waiting to know how well that eye would see!" see!"

Fay said, "I knew better than let you go in that eye to start with. That eye was just as bright and c.o.c.ky as yours is right now. He just took a scratch from an old rose briar! He would have got over that, it would all be forgotten now! Nature would have tended to it. But you thought you knew better!" Without taking her eyes from him, she began crying.

Dr. Courtland looked at her briefly, as if he had seen many like Fay. As they were leaving the elevator among all the other pa.s.sengers, he looked with the ghost of a smile into Laurel's face. In a moment he said, "He helped me through medical school, kept me going when Daddy died. A sacrifice in those days. The Depression hit and he helped me get my start."

"Some things don't bear going into," Laurel said, "No," he said. "No." He took off his gla.s.ses and put them away, as if he and she had just signed their names to these words. He said then, "Laurel, there's n.o.body from home home with you. Would you care to put up with us for the rest of the night? Betty would be so glad. Trouble is, there's goings-on, and of course more to follow. Dell-our oldest girl's eighteen-" with you. Would you care to put up with us for the rest of the night? Betty would be so glad. Trouble is, there's goings-on, and of course more to follow. Dell-our oldest girl's eighteen-"

Laurel shook her head.

"I've got my driver waiting outside, though," Dr. Courtland went on. "As soon as you-all finish at the office, I'll send you where you're going, with something for you both to make you sleep."

"All I hope is you you lay awake tonight and remember how little you were good for!" cried Fay. lay awake tonight and remember how little you were good for!" cried Fay.

He took them on, through the necessary office gates, and when they came outside the hospital into the air and the sounds of city streets and of tonight, he helped them into his car.

"I'll phone Adele," he said to Laurel. That was his sister in Mount Salus. "You can take him home tomorrow." Still he did not turn to go back into the building, but stood there by the car, his hand on the door he had closed. He gave the drawn-out moment up to uselessness. She felt it might have been the hardest thing he had done all day, or all his life.

"I wish I could have saved him," he said.

Laurel touched her hand to the window gla.s.s. He waved then, and quickly turned.

"Thank you for nothing!" Fay screamed above the whirr of their riding away.

Laurel was still gearing herself to the time things took. It was slow going through the streets. There were many waits. Now and then the driver had to shout from the wheel before they could proceed.

Fay grabbed Laurel's arm as she would have grabbed any stranger's. "I saw a man-I saw a man and he was dressed up like a skeleton and his date was in a long white dress, with snakes for hair, holding up a bunch of lilies! Coming down the steps of that house like they're just starting out!" Then she cried out again, the longing, or the anger, of her whole life all in her voice at one time, "Is it the Carnival?"

Laurel heard a band playing and another band moving in on top of it. She heard the crowd noise, the unmistakable sound of hundreds, of thousands, of people blundering blundering.

"I saw a man in Spanish moss, a whole suit of Spanish moss, all by himself on the sidewalk. He was vomiting right in public," said Fay. "Why did I have to be shown that?"

"Where you come from?" the driver said scornfully. "This here is Mardi Gras night." night."

When they reached there, they found that the Carnival was overflowing the Hibiscus too. Masqueraders were coming and going. The cat was off its chain and let inside; it turned its seamed face to look at them and pranced up the staircase and waited for them on the landing, dressed in a monkey coat sewn with sequins.

"All on my birthday. n.o.body told me this this was what was going to happen to me!" Fay cried before she slammed her door. was what was going to happen to me!" Fay cried before she slammed her door.

Her sobbing, the same two close-together, accusing notes running over and over, went on for a time against the thin sounding-board between the two beds. Laurel lay in the dark waiting for it to reach its end. The house took longer than Fay did to go to sleep; the city longer than the house. Eventually she heard the ludicrous sound of chirping frogs emerge from the now completed excavation next door. Toward morning there was the final, parting shot of a pistol fired far off. Nothing came after that; no echo.

They got away in the afternoon. Judge McKelva's body was on board the smooth New Orleans-Chicago train he had always so enjoyed travelling on; he had taken full pleasure in the starched white damask tablecloths, the real rosebud in the silver vase, the celery crisp on ice, the strawberries fresh from Hammond in their season; and the service. The days of the train itself were numbered now.

In the last car, the two women lay back in chairs in their compartment part.i.tioned off from the observation section behind. Fay had kicked off her shoes. She lay with her head turned away, not speaking.

Set deep in the swamp, where the black trees were welling with buds like red drops, was one low beech that had kept its last year's leaves, and it appeared to Laurel to travel along with their train, gliding at a magic speed through the cypresses they left behind. It was her own reflection in the windowpane-the beech tree was her head. Now it was gone. As the train left the black swamp and pulled out into the s.p.a.ce of Pontchartrain, the window filled with a featureless sky over pale smooth water, where a seagull was hanging with wings fixed, like a stopped clock on a wall. She must have slept, for nothing seemed to have changed before her eyes until the seagull became the hands on the clock in the Courthouse dome lit up in the night above Mount Salus trees.

Fay slept still. When Laurel had to touch her shoulder to wake her, Fay struggled and said, "Oh no, no, not any more!"

Two.

1

THE ANCIENT PORTER was already rolling his iron-wheeled wagon to meet the baggage car, before the train halted. All six of Laurel's bridesmaids, as they still called themselves, were waiting on the station platform. Miss Adele Courtland stood out in front of them. She was Dr. Courtland's sister, looking greatly aged. As Laurel went first down the steps, Miss Adele softly placed her hands together, then spread her arms. was already rolling his iron-wheeled wagon to meet the baggage car, before the train halted. All six of Laurel's bridesmaids, as they still called themselves, were waiting on the station platform. Miss Adele Courtland stood out in front of them. She was Dr. Courtland's sister, looking greatly aged. As Laurel went first down the steps, Miss Adele softly placed her hands together, then spread her arms.

"Polly," she said.

"What are you here for?" asked Fay, as Laurel moved from one embrace into another.

"We came to meet you," Tish Bullock said. "And to take you home."

Laurel was aware of the row of lighted windows already sliding away behind her. The train gathered speed as swiftly as it had brought itself to a halt. It went out of sight while the wagon, loaded with the long box now, and attended by a stranger in a business suit, was wheeled slowly back along the platform and steered to where a hea.r.s.e, backed in among the cars, stood with its door wide.

"Daddy wanted to come, Laurel, but we've been trying to spare him," said Tish, with protective eyes following what was happening to the coffin. Her arm was linked in Laurel's.