Chapter 2
HE AND PHYLLIS TALKED SERIOUSLY OTHER times, too, but he made it a point not to get too involved. He never' laid a finger on her in a desirous way, although there was no doubt in his mind that he'd meet no opposition. She was in love with him, but she was careful not to push herself at him too much, because her instinct told her that he was warding her off. So their relationship was kept at a platonic level. Eddie was sorry for her, he wished he could help her, but he was careful to make certain she didn't mistake his pity for something deeper. He was grateful that she seemed to understand his hands-off feeling and that they could converse like buddies who'd been through somewhat the same hell.
No one would ever accuse Edward of being an intellectual, an egghead. But he had a native craftiness, great powers of observation, a good supply of energy, and ambition. In his youth as later, they didn't say intelligent about Eddie, but smart.
As far back as he could remember, he'd had the vague feeling that small-town life wasn't fit for him. His life with his stand-offish old relatives and at the third-rate school just rubbed this message in the harder.
He looked around to see by what means he could get away and by what means get all the money his hunger needed.
In books, he read about fortunes made in business, but nothing locally backed this up. The store-owners around those parts were no better off than the farmers. Everybody had fairly good years, but these were offset by bad ones. And it was a rough go over the long haul. Further more, you needed money to get started. And that was something he didn't have and had no prospect of getting.
Go into something like the ministry, a respectable profession? It paid only a couple of thousand a year, and you had to take a lot of guff from so many pious parishoners. Teaching? Just about the same.
It appeared that he might end up working as a gas-station attendant, or a worker in the creamery.
But then gradually it came to his attention that there were two men in that town who weren't doing badly. They were the community's only two lawyers. He hadn't really paid any attention to them because they didn't have any direct bearing on his life. He went into the stores, and thus knew about storekeepers. He knew about the creamery operation because he often had to go there to buy butter and milk. He watched the garage-owner repair cars. He saw and heard much about the clergymen. .
But until he was a teenager, he somehow never paid much attention to the two lawyers. Yet, they were as prominent in their way as any other personages in the community. One was the mayor almost all the time Eddie was there, and he made speeches at the school and other places. The activities of both on civic boards was duly noted in the weekly newspaper put out at the county seat. He had often seen them in the drugstore or just strolling down the street. He didn't know where they were going, but it didn't concern him.
Gradually, however, he became aware that they were important men in the community. Little as the town budget was, it still was money, and the mayor had powers about who got what contracts, and he hired or appointed men to various jobs. Furthermore, Eddie heard about the money they made working at their actual jobs-law. Loads of money, according to what he heard. They settled estates, made wills, checked contracts, had something to do with deeds, and all that. It didn't sound too intriguing to Eddie, and he didn't like the sneering or laughing that went along with people's telling of these things-about money-grabbing lawyers, and such. Still, he noticed that most people were always trying to make fun of people who are, higher up on the social scale. And despite all the snide remarks, people wished to patronize these men ... or had to, which, to Eddie's way of thinking, was even better.
So it was that Edward decided on the law as his life work.
He left his foster home and that community for good when he was graduated from high school at the age of seventeen.
Though the boy was underage, his great-uncle and aunt did not try to stop him. They did not actively dislike him, but he was a burden and a responsibility that became harder to put up with as they went, into irritable old age.
Eddie had expected to go to the city with nothing but a suitcase packed with his few meager belongings. So it was with great, joyful surprise that he was told that his mother had left him a little money that he was to have gotten later, and his uncle had anted up a bit himself. It was less than $300-no great sum for a teenager going as a stranger to make his fortune in the big city-but it was a godsend to Eddie, who expected nothing.
He sat up all night on the train, arriving at the depot in the morning. Which is the way he planned it. He didn't want to get to the city at night and have to hurry around looking for a place to sleep. He had decided to select a cheap room near where he'd be going to school.
He realized that the best legal education would be obtained at the University, but it would be tough to get in there. The degree from his rural high school would be looked at askance there. Besides, he would have to go to classes during the day. Since he would be working his way through school, he thought he'd have a better chance of Jobs If he went to classes at night and worked days; so many other students wanted it the other way, and there were fewer jobs at night, what with some stores and other businesses closed in the evenings.
He had found out that there was an independent law college in the city, where night classes were routine. He knew he could pass their entrance examination, since it wasn't so difficult, because they catered not only to young students such as himself, but to older persons who wanted to study law for one purpose or another, such as business executives who wanted to know about certain marketing legislation, doctors who wanted some legal background for their types of cases, and politicians who wanted to keep up with what was happening in legislation.
Eddie was happy to discover the kind of location the law school had: it was within walking distance of both the central downtown district of this city of some half-million, and near a once-prosperous neighborhood that had become a section of shabby boarding houses. In the latter, he got himself a room for very few dollars a week. The business district would provide him with a ready source of job opportunities, he hoped.
It was far easier than he had expected to get hired as a bus boy in a fair-to-middling restaurant in an office building seven blocks away. That would be a strenous walk in winter's fierce blasts, but now in the nice autumn days, it was a breeze.
Not many of the city boys wanted such a job, he discovered, because the pay wasn't much, and the noon shift didn't bring him much in share of tips from the waitresses with whom he worked.
It was the food that drew him to the restaurant in the first place. Not the particular food they served, since he knew nothing of the place ... but just food in general. He thought of how nice it would be to work in a place like that. Food-all kinds of it, in abundance.
One meal a day was part of his pay. It was to be given to the help before the noon rush. Eddie was always there early, and he put away large quantities of food. He was sure the others laughed at his appetite, he being so skinny, yet gobbling away that way. He didn't mind. As a matter-of-fact, he laughed to himself about them: here they had a chance to eat free, but many of them just nibbled. Some were so sick of food after it being part of their jobs year after year that they just took a bite or two; they complained about how poor it was, and razzed the cooks. They smoked cigarettes and drank coffee instead, letting their plates of food grow cold and dropping ashes on them.
Not Eddie. He even took secret bites of leftovers on some plates. It was a shame the way some people wasted good food. He was careful of what he took from a used plate, but his hunger overcame his fastitidiousness. He supposed he'd get over his haunting lust for food sometime, and maybe it was good for his future that he worked there, so he'd become as blase about it as the waitresses were. But for now, he packed his gut every chance he got.
This was a great saving, because he consumed so much at work, he often didn't have to buy any other meal for the day. If he did, it was a cheap one. More often than not, he'd just buy some food that he could take back to his tiny bedroom and finish at will. Nothing hot, since he had nothing to cook it on-just cold stuff. But he got by, with the vast aid of the restaurant food, and he was delighted at how little of the $300 was going for living expenses.
Quite a hunk of it had gone for tuition at the school. And for a while, it appeared that it had been a very bad investment.
Law school was far, far tougher than he had thought it would be. His only measurement had been the school he had attended in that small town. He knew, of course, that any other school would be bound to be better and more difficult, but he had assumed that he had at least gotten a fairly good education, since he had a diploma recognized by the state. He came to see that his learning was vastly inferior to even the poorest available most other places. And while this law school wasn't supposed to be half as tough as the University, it was about six times as tough as Eddie had anticipated. He found he wasn't equipped to study-really study. He'd never learned how, back home. Furthermore, nobody at the law school cared how you did. You could flunk out, and they wouldn't be concerned one way or another; He'd sort of thought all schools were like that high school-teachers and officials always prodding you along, giving you more time, letting the laggards sort of set the pace. It was, after all, a public school, and they couldn't flunk everybody who deserved it or who wouldn't work hard; nobody would ever have been graduated if they had.
So that first-semester shock of higher education almost knocked Eddie out. But he stuck. He had been awakened to the fact that he knew very little and would have to work harder than he ever thought possible, to obtain his goals in life.
With this dash of cold water in his face, he reeled in dismay at the vastness of his undertaking.
Fortunately, into his life came Mrs. Hanover.
Mrs. Hanover was in her mid-twenties, and was as beautiful a woman as Eddie ever hoped to see. She had an exquisite face of classic loveliness, and she wore her dark hair in dramatic fashion. She always wore suits to the night classes-sometimes two-piecers, with a filmy scarf at the neck held by a brooch, sometimes a three-piecer, with a blouse that matched the lining of the jacket. Eddie knew next to nothing about clothes, but even he could see that they were expensive, very expensive. And it was rare to' see her in the same one twice-a new theatrical effect could be expected each time she appeared, with the lovely face showcased by the cut and coloring of her coordinated apparel, with each outfit having its own matching shoes.
There weren't a terrible lot of women students, but Mrs. Hanover would have stood out in any company.
So the men all tried to get chatting with her. All except Eddie. To him, just turned eighteen, she was an older woman, no matter how voluptuous. Furthermore, he was in desperate straits about his studies. So he kept his mind on his books, and when they got a coffee and cigarette break half-way through classes in the evening, he'd duck into an empty classroom to pore over his law books.
"You're having lots of trouble," she said. It was not a question, it was a statement. And a statement of fact, of course. He guessed that she was very in with all the professors, and knew exactly what was going on. He was angry that she knew he was doing poorly, and he might have made some sarcastic answer, except that she now flashed at him a smile so full of charm and yet so warmly understanding that he nearly melted on the spot. After a moment, she added, "Maybe I can be of some help."
She could indeed, as the months to follow proved.
Behind that Vogue exterior, Elizabeth Hanover was a miniature legal .library all to herself. She knew what Eddie should be emphasizing, what to ignore. She knew what instructors put stress on what points, so that he could fashion his work for the best grades.
He couldn't understand why she was taking this amount of bother with him, but he reveled in it. Just about every night, she'd bring her paper cup of coffee in and sit by the desk he'd taken, and aid and advise him.
In slow stages, she got him to tell about his back ground. But it didn't work the other way. She revealed little about herself. But then he didn't ask much. He was too shy anyway, and he didn't know the subtle means of getting others to talk.
One evening she mentioned that she had a whole slew of books about law and other subjects that she thought might be useful to him. Did he want them? Of course he did, and she said for him to drive home with her that night and he could lug them down to the car and she'd drive him to his place.
He didn't want that. He didn't want this nice and rich-woman to know what a hole he lived in. He asked her to bring the volumes a few at a time to the classes at night. She said no, she wanted to get rid of the whole lot at once-that's the way she was.
Her car impressed him-a long, low foreign job-but the apartment made him gasp. Outside of the movies, he hadn't seen such a place-eight gigantic (to him) rooms, all carpeted, all with decorator touches-oil paintings, candelabra, fragile cigarette and candy dishes, two-dollar magazines on the coffee tables, forty buck art books, fresh flowers-the works.
The housekeeper had let them in, and Mrs. Hanover perfunctorily inquired about the well-being of someone named Tommy. She later explained that this was her six-year-old son. She asked Eddie if he wanted some coffee before he undertook the task of carrying the boxes of books to the elevator, then to the car. He was embarrassed by the luxurious ness of the surroundings and wanted to duck out fast, so he said he didn't.
The boxes were packed with excellent books, he saw as he glanced at some of the titles. They were worth a couple of hundred dollars, but she was flip about it when he mentioned it. She didn't have room anyway, and these were of more help to a beginning student than to her; she'd been at the college for several years. He could tell that it really was a trifle to her ... and seeing that apartment of hers, he could see why.
He thought he'd die when she saw where he had to live, so on the way over, he sat in chilled silence. But she pretended not to notice his taciturnity, and chatted on and on to put him at ease, m front of his boarding house, she parked and waited cheerfully while he struggled up with the first two loads. Sweating under the bulk of the third, he stood by the door of her car and tried again to express fully his gratitude. But she reached over to close the door, first wrinkling her nose cutely at him, then zoomed off into the night. That facial expression was just a routine little mannerism with Elizabeth Hanover, but it had a devastating effect on young Eddie. Could it be that she was really as interested in him as he was getting to be in her? Certainly he could see no reason why she should be. Yet ... if not, why all this?
One night, during the break in classes, he was giving her a jocular account of living at the rooming house. It was his attempt, via humor, to make how poor he-was, how sparely he lived all unimportant.
He was especially comical about the troubles using the bathroom. You had to be an Olympic runner to get in before anybody else, and if you didn't hurry, somebody'd be pounding on the door in a few minutes. About the only time you could take more than a five-or ten-minute bath in the tub was about three o'clock in the morning, and even then people complained because, the pipes made so much noise.
Elizabeth laughed, and Eddie was relieved that she didn't seem at all disdainful of his living conditions. But his anecdotes led to a suggestion he hadn't expected at all. She said, "Tomorrow is the housekeeper's day off, Tommy is in school, and I'll be shopping. Come out and take a leisurely tub all afternoon, if you want."
He was taken aback, and he blushed, which made her smile appealingly. Eddie stammered, "I couldn't do anything like that!"
"Why not?"
He had no real reason why not-it just seemed such an un-likely situation. She persisted, with her cute little nose crinkle, and he said okay.
She picked him up after the noon rush at the restaurant. On the way out, he regretted giving in-he felt like a damned fool.
In the apartment, she said, "You have your choice. You could even use the housekeeper's bath, but she hasn't had a man in her tub for years." She laughed, and he thought she was thinking of a risque meaning. "Or my son's bathroom. But I guess not. He's got soap shaped like a six-gun, and there's Batman on all the wash cloths. I guess you're stuck with mine."
She led him through her bedroom, and it was so intimate in appearance and so feminine that he hardly lifted his eyes from the thick beige rug.
"Look," he said, "this is silly."
Elizabeth paid no heed. She went into the bathroom to turn on the lights. "Anything you want-bubble bath, scented soap, dusting powder." They both laughed. "That's it," she went on, "relax. Enjoy, enjoy."
She held the bathroom door and indicated with her head that he should go in. "Now," she told him, "get in and give me your underwear and socks."
"What?" he exclaimed.
"I'll put them in the washer out by the kitchen-they'll be clean and dry by the time you get out."
"No, no," he said, making foolish motions with him hands.
"Yes, yes," she mimicked. "You do it or I will."
He went in, and she partially closed the door, with her back to it. He said again, "I'd rather not."
"Well, I'd rather you did. There's nothing worse than getting all clean and nice out of a bath and having to get into clothes you've had on before. Now, will you do it, or do I have to come in and do it for you?"
"All right," he answered reluctantly.
She could hear the rustle of his clothing as he undressed. Finally he told her, "Here it is."
Elizabeth took it from the hand he had stretched around the door. "Honestly," she commented, moving away from the bathroom. "You males. So bashful. After all, I'm practically old enough to be your mother. I've got a boy of my own, you know."
She turned at the door of her bedroom and looked back to where Eddie was peeking out, waiting for her to leave. "I'll be back in about an hour. Luxuriate!"
He waited right where he was for about ten minutes. The laundry room was so far away in this big apartment that he couldn't even hear it when she started his wash. But he could hear the front door close when she left.
He felt foolish standing in that huge, feminine bathroom-bare naked. Cold, too, since he had been pressed up against the full-length mirror on the back of the door. Part of the chill was his uneasiness in this unusual situation. How stupid could he get? Why had he come here to take a bath, for crissake?
Eddie felt embarrassed at having to hand over his grayish, worn underwear, with the torn undershirt. And one sock had a hole in the toe. Handing them to a woman like that-who probably threw out clothes just because she got tired of them after a few wearings, not because they ever showed any wear.
But as long as he was here ... He shrugged and started the water in the tub. Well, he'd take a bath, but short. Then maybe he'd find the laundry room before she got back, get dressed, and get out of there before he appeared any more stupid or gauche.
While waiting for the tub to fill, he ventured out into her room. He felt daring and excited at being stark nude here in a strange place. Especially this place-her bedroom. He shivered-what if she should walk back in?
Well, he knew one thing-she certainly wasn't old enough to be his mother. And she may have had a son, but Eddie had no sonly feelings toward her. No indeed! He was a big boy, Eddie was. And she was a young, terribly attractive woman. He hoped with all his heart that she would reappear right then. What would he do? He looked down and smiled self-consciously. His manly part was telling what he should do if she came back. But would he? With her-this fine, rich woman?
He looked around her bedroom. It was more spacious than the first floors of some houses back home. There were more paintings, a gorgeous dressing table in the mirror of which-clear across the room-he saw his thin body. It embarrassed him, and he turned away. And there was the bed. King-size for that queen. There was a light-green spread. He pranced over to feel its silken quality. Did he dare? Why not? So he laid his bareness on the cool smoothness of it and shivered. He got up guiltily, smoothing the spread again.
What could he be thinking of? Why was he cavorting like this-like a stupid kid? He certainly shouldn't be thinking such sensuous thoughts, he admonished himself. Especially in this place offered to him by that gracious woman, who had just felt sorry for a poor kid and wanted to help him. And here he was thinking about himself and her in the sheets of that acre of bed. He should be ashamed.
Despite his resolution about hurrying through his bath and skedaddling out of there, he forgot it in the relaxation that came over him as he sank, himself into the warm water. He was like a little boy simplemindedly pouring in bath salt and bubble-bath and kicking up a foam. He lay back and inspected the bathroom. Never had he seen such a place. Gold handles. Faucets shaped like swans' necks with the water pouring out of the birds' open mouths. Bottles and tubes of stuff all over. The toilet concealed behind a wall which held planters and green shoots of some kind.
Eddie began daydreaming. He was owner of all this. Oh, he'd have selected different colors and decorations ... but in his imaginings, he had the money that all this represented. And Elizabeth-his mistress. Or wife. Lord, to have a woman like that! He'd have her come in and scrub his back. And then, he'd get out, and they'd go into the plush bedroom and then....