Chapter 13
WHEN JOE RETURNED THAT AFTERNOON it came as a bit of a shock to find Helen in bed.
"It's nothing, darling-nothing at all," she assured him.
Rut he knew that she was ill when he came close to her and looked down at the small wan face, the eyes circled with gray-tinged skin, and the lips trembling perceptibly even as they tried to form a smile.
"I was walking in the sun, and-well-I suppose I should have had some protection for my head." She told him that she had fainted, but insisted she was feeling much better now.
"The sun wasn't that hot this afternoon," he said. "You're run down, Helen. You haven't been yourself lately." He realized, as he uttered them that his words were true.
He stayed with her till six, sitting beside the bed, holding her hand, chatting with her, thinking.
"It's because of us," he told Fran later. "We did it to her."
She laughed and retorted, "So that's what's got you down-worrying about Aunty's having had herself a swoon!"
"You're not satisfied, are you? You won't rest till she's dead. That's why you want to take the money-to make sure she'll kill herself."
"'You're convinced of it that she'll kill herself if we run off with her money, aren't you?"
He admitted it.
"She won't. I'm sure she won't. Hut just let's suppose that she would. I'm not saying she would, mind you-I'm only just supposing. Can you prevent it? Can you stop her from doing it? It's not the money. You yourself say she wouldn't do it for that, but only because you left her. So there's only one way to prevent it, and that's by staying on with her forever."
"So?"
"So are you willing to do that? Sacrifice yourself, stay on with her till she dies of old age? And if you do stay, will you make it legitimate, will you marry her eventually? You'll have to do that eventually, you know, if you stay on with her long enough. And you're too young to be married to her. You can see that, can't you? It would be unnatural, just plain unnatural, that's what!"
"You're talking foolish now. You know I won't marry her. And-" he hesitated as he said it-"I won't stay on with her forever, either."
She caught at his words. "You won't stay on? When will you leave her, then? Whenever it is, that's when she kills herself-if you're so certain that she actually will go through with it. Don't you see, she's a neurotic-a hopeless neurotic. If she threatens it now, she'll threaten it in the future. She's got you tied down forever, she'll never let you go."
He rubbed his forehead, said nothing. She sensed an advantage and pressed it excitedly. "The short sweet life-remember Joe? Short and sweet and the young, that's what you said. And how are you going to live it, with a dead beat like her tied to you? A thirty-one year old woman-too old for you, holding on, never letting go, strangling you!"
"Lay off!" he muttered. "Will you lay off!" He grabbed his head as if it had begun to pain him.
A moment later he got to his feet and began to pace the room. He paused at the window and stood there for a while, looking out. When he turned back to her his lips were curled in an ugly smile.
"The money-we would have to take that, I suppose"
She shrugged and said, "We'd need it, wouldn't we? You said yourself that-"
"Never mind what I said! What do you say?"
She thought it over before she answered, but then spoke with confidence. "I'd say, yes."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because-" she looked at him queerly-" Well, aren't you the one who-didn't you say that she would kill herself not because of the money, but because you'd-"
"You want to be sure she does it, don't you? No slip-ups, eh? You hate her, you want to kill her!"
She crimsoned. And suddenly there were tears in her eyes, her face was strangely contorted. "I won't ever forgive her," she whispered hoarsely "-ever!"
Of course, he decided, Fran was right. It was natural he should, since she had voiced no new thoughts, nothing that he himself had not gone over in his mind previously. She hated Helen and would have them take the five thousand to be certain that she carried out her threat. He did not hate Helen. Fact was, there were times when he felt ... She was good-kind and decent and fine. The best woman he had ever known, with the possible exception of his mother. With all his heart he would rather she did not carry out her threat. He would have her return to her home, her career, the ones who loved and needed her. And yet-there was no hope for it, he must have that five thousand.
Now the money was in a local bank, his next problem was how to get his hands, on it. He put long dreary hours into thinking up and rejecting plans. He began to spend more time alone, less with Helen and Fran. He took up walking again, but as he walked now he did not observe, admire and dream, as he used to. He walked absently, with no particular destination, at times hardly knowing where he was and caring less. The human beings about him no longer interested him, nor did the palm trees, the pink hotels, the stream-lined automobiles. He had his own worries, his own problems. He must think these out, decide and act. And he must do it quickly, for there was conflict and uncertainty in him now, and these things were wearing away at him, hurting him mentally and physically.
At last he decided upon a plan. Like the previous one, by means of which he had Helen transfer the money here, this was not very good. Like the previous one, the success of it was predicated not on its logic, but on his power to sway the mind of the submissive creature who loved him. "No use," ' he thought, "No other way out!" What else could he do? Could he-as Fran put it-stay tied to her forever? And if not, then what other choice did he have?
He put the plan into effect that very day, buying the afternoon paper and bringing it home with him.
After supper he opened it to the Classified Ads section. When he had glanced through the Houses for Sale columns for several moments, lie called Helen and patted the couch beside him. "Sit here next to me, will you sweet?"
She took the seat and he asked, "How much rent are we paying for this dump?"
"Not much. Why do you ask?"
"Two hundred a month, isn't it?"
She caught his hand and pressed it. "Don't trouble yourself, dear. It's-well, it's such a small price to pay for the-"
"Hut suppose you didn't have to pay that much?" he cut in. "Suppose we could live here for less?" He moved the paper over and pointed out the column he had been reading. "Houses, all shapes and sizes-the paper's full of them. So much down and pay the rest like rent. And it's cheaper than rent-much cheaper. Here, see for yourself."
She looked to where he pointed, shook her head and said, "I don't want a house, darling. I've got one back in Brooklyn."
"There you go again!" he muttered impatiently. "Back in Brooklyn! We're in Miami Beach, and we're going to stay here permanently, aren't we? And if we are, what good is your having a house there doing us? Well, answer me. Don't just gape at me with those sad eyes of yours!"
The following afternoon they got into the red convertible and went shopping for houses, and for the next two weeks they went out every day, except when the weather did not allow it. They looked at all sorts of houses, discussed down payments, interest rates, mortgages, and sewage systems. They debated and bargained with salesmen, afterwards talked it over between themselves, and laughed. It was not altogether unpleasant, for either of diem. It gave them something to do, kept their minds occupied. After a while it became almost a habit to get into the red convertible each day at noon and set off on, as they called it, "the real estate merry-go-round." Some of the houses they saw were quite beautiful. They fairly took her breath aw ay; even he was moved.
He liked being with Helen. She was easy-going. good-natured, kind, gentle as a lamb. She did not upset him, shout or scold at him, even make him think too deeply. And it was so small a task to please her: almost everything he did, every word he uttered, pleased her. There were times shopping for a house when he' actually believed, if only for a moment that it was in earnest, that he really wished to buy one and live in it with her for the rest of his life. At those moments Helen seemed to sense what was going on in him, her instinctive feeling for the workings of his mind was well nigh infallible. Her joy at those moments became rapture. She would laugh as he had never seen her laugh before, hug him till it hurt.
"I'll be good to you, dear-I'll be good to you," she would vow.
As d it were possible for her to be anything other than good! One thing she didn't seem to understand: her very compliance bored him.
For the most part, though, he knew that the shopping was just a farce-part of the plan to get his hands on the money. At those times she also seemed to see right through him, to know what was going on in his mind. Not his precise thoughts-how could she possibly guess these? But she sensed with that unfailing instinct of hers, that he was up to no good. Then she would go along quietly, submissively, without a word of protest, or a hint that she was wise to him. Her unhappiness seemed to shrink her at those moments, make her tiny and frail and helpless. He held her small cool hand in his and led her. He felt as if he were leading a child, who trusted him, to its doom.