Chapter 15

Dean Fedorhall was a sandy -haired, unsmiling man who, according to reports, should have been hatched in electronic robot fashion instead of born as a person. He hunched forward at his desk that morning and read the document privately.

Then he stared over the top of the paper at Maurie. "You understand, of course, that you'll have to be terminated at once. Lascivious activity and involvement in a crime."

"A kid kills himself on his bike and you say I was the cause of it."

"Not the cause, Mr. Hayko. Our board has studied the case with a fine tooth comb. Your affair with Miss Reneson would be scandal enough-and I do say I'm quite surprised at you."

Maurie dug his elbows at right angles into the meat of his thighs, sitting tensely on the chair. He wrung his hands in defeat. "Pity is one thing I don't need."

"We're all expected to control ourselves where the female specie is concerned, particularly. A man your age. With over ten years service on the faculty here-"

"I've denied both charges. But then, you would take the word of Barbara and Oscar and Smithers over mine."

"Two witnesses are sufficient by any penal code standards."

It was a gray, overcast day which fitted the somber nature of his last hours at Milltown. He stared at the window, then back at Fedorhall and his poker face. "Their characters are beyond reproach. Barbara has lied and cheated in the past, to get some sugar daddy she wanted. Genevieve's a junky who'll end up on the street. As for Smithers-"

"The argument you propose may be valid. John, however, left a diary which implicates you and Miss Reneson."

"How do you know he wrote it?"

"You're hunting for straws, dear man. The verdict was reached and you should be lucky the police have not stepped in."

"you mean the sacred name of the university is lucky. Each faculty member represents a yard of cloth to you. A stepping stone to more power."

"Please leave the campus. Mr. Hodson will escort you out, and your check will be forwarded later."

Maurice snorted in anger but saw that he was utterly vanquished in a web of intrigue. Outside in the hall he paused to check the shadowy form of Hodson, lab janitor. Then Maurice started forward gladly to endure his drumming-out as a man. He heard kids laughing and joking as they stood around with books under their arms, and he sadly wondered how it would be-without them.

He had rarely been unemployed except for the summer hiatus. Would other colleges hire him or wait until a decent period of time elapsed, or had this thing black-balled him? He doubted it. A good teacher was worth his salt, and many a dean or corporation president had gotten to his eminent position by gambling on the unfortunate but talented.

At least I've developed a new confidence from this mess, he thought. Ellen never helped me to believe in myself.

Barbara Judd was standing outside her office. He walked up to her and resisted the urge to slap the living hell out of her. "I hope you're real happy," he snarled. "You've done your best to ruin three lives."

"Blame it all on a bystander, Maurie. I started the trouble by seducing you, didn't I?"

"How catty can you be? I had a fling because I wanted to prove I was virile, or young, and then you got rejected. That hurt. So you assaulted Ida with blackmail and lies-"

"And you're the one who marches ingloriously into the sunset from MU."

"Dry my tears. I know you're screwing for Fedorhall on the side."

"Good-bye, sir."

"You couldn't have me, so you decided to fix it so neither Ida nor anyone else could. But you goofed, Babs. I'll launch a fresh life and you'll rot in these ivy walls with nightmares for company."

Hodson came up the hall and waved. "Let's go, Mr. Hayko."

The door of Barbara's office slammed shut and he felt a weight slide away from his shoulders. He had seen her for the last time. She'd live and die as a scheming old maid, and he'd enjoy the final belly laugh.

When he got home he saw that Ellen had already packed up for her trip. A note on the coffee table informed him that she would be at the railroad station for the 8:25 train, if he cared to see her off. He crumpled the note in his fist. The tragedy wasn't her refusal to discuss his shameful scandal, but his prior decision to choose Ida over his wife.

Her leaving would make it look as if he had been forced to marry Ida. When he thought about the matter more deeply, though, Maurie saw he didn't give a tinker's dam what people said or believed. The girl's future happiness and his were all that counted.

The night stretched a pall of grim darkness over the houses and factories and business stores which lay packed close together in the center of town. He reached the redstone railroad depot, a castle of dusty architecture at least fifty years old. He walked from the metered parking lot up a graded ramp. It seemed pathetic and ironic that he should be coming to her, even at their hour of separation, obediently as always.

But one of them had to give in and be larger than life. He couldn't just let her go away without some kind of human contact, repulsive as it might prove. Posters on the concrete walls along the ramp advertised stage presentations soon to be held at theaters in the area. Broadway shows had their place, too, among the colorful ads which ridged his long and weary march up the hill. He saw a near-naked girl smiling out from a musical play in its second year at the Great White Way.

Inside the train station he was depressed by the gray, brooding atmosphere. After checking his watch several times he finally saw Ellen moving toward him from the door.

"You had to let it end abruptly, didn't you, Maurie? A sensational and exciting finish. I always told you to take up law, so there'd be an audience for your natural talent."

"It seems like you spent most of our eleven years telling me what to do."

"Feel sorry for yourself. Make me the villain who practiced adultery."

He noted that she carried only a purse instead of suitcases and valises for the vast wardrobe which had been removed from her closet at home. "You didn't waste any time in leaving. I suppose the baggage was sent ahead by freight."

"Yes. Via express to New Haven and the people who treat me like a human being. I had to talk father out of coming down here with a pistol to see you. Somehow he abhors a scandal-maker."

Maurie let her anger run its course, resigned as he was to receiving the whole guilty verdict. Then he stared meaningfully at his lost wife.

"You know we were drifting away from one another for the past few months, Ellen. Even before Ida came."

"It's easy when the criminal looks back with reasons."

"I love her. And she returns the love. When all the shouting about your family name and dishonor has died out, it boils down to essentials. Doesn't it? I tried to share a common ground with you but the guts had slowly drained away."

A porter hurried by, shoving his cart-load of luggage ahead of him. The voice from the loudspeaker announced her train as "on time" and people had filtered into the waiting room. Ellen surveyed her husband haughtily. "You expected miracles from me in the boudoir. It got to be a fetish-your devotion to sex and pleasure."

"Not exactly. I'd call my desires merely a symptom of deeper conflict."

"Words from one of Ida's Freudian text-books."

"Really, Ellen. I do feel sorry for you because it took us so long to find the truth. You didn't love me. You married status and if any love existed, it was the worship of dominance over a man."

"Still justifying your sins. Well, listen to me. That girl might last for a while, but the infatuation will wear out."

"Ida's not a fair weather person."

"Maybe you and she are both idiots. After she realizes how you raked her reputation over the coals-"

"We stand here arguing over minor things and still barely scratch the surface. The affair was hushed up. You and your dad are the type who would blow it out of proportion."

"Such glib, casual ideas ... now I suppose you're hoping she can present you with a son."

"Why else do average men get married?"

"The demands you pushed upon me were outlandish!" Ellen spat out. "You're the sterile one! This entire mess happened because I failed to produce the heir, an offspring for your ego."

She obviously had let rage and indignation cloud her reasoning abilities. He gritted his teeth, then gulped down his blistering reply. "It's rather late for a discussion on the first causes."

"I could change life to miserable hell for you. Barbara did a fair job of starting the landslide, but your philandering kept her alive." She folded her arms and gripped the straw handbag tighter. "You'll pay your fair share."

"Make sure the lawyer has my address right. I look forward to receiving the letter."

"You even sound like a teenage punk."

"Sort of a John DiCauslow returning from the grave?"

"Very funny. There never would have been a DiCauslow on my hands if you had walked the straight and narrow. At least I admit sleeping with him. Who did you notch on your gun, besides Yvette and that other girl who left school rather than take suspension?"

"I'll fight the suit, Ellen. Your case will be strong but not overwhelming."

"Alimony is a very sweet tonic."

There appeared no further profit in rehashing the soreness and wounds of their rupture. He could allow her this luxury-small people talked big and got a weird satisfaction from revenge. She would probably hunt out some wealthy man. A widower or tycoon or perhaps another teacher whom she'd rule with an iron hand.

Ellen held her shoulders high as she stepped toward her waiting train. He peered into the smoke which coughed up from the engine and wheels on the track. Express to Boston ... New Haven, Saybrook....

She would search and yet there could be no treasure of human love for her-not like the one Maurie had found. He pitied her. Good-bye, Ellen. I'll say it for both of us and wish you a safe journey. The moments ticked away on the enormous clock of eternity which pulsed increasingly amid whirring, cracking atoms in the universe.

He blinked at the soft tears on his eyelids. He kicked a candy wrapper along the cement floor and headed toward the down ramp, as a drizzle began to dampen the sidewalk near the taxi stand.

His electric typewriter still ran with enough zing, even though it had lain withering in the closet for so long. He struck the keys confidently as the resume took shape before him. Finding another college to teach at might be rather hard. Maurie decided it would be best to ignore reason for leaving the last position and talk around it later, with an interested dean.

What alternate task might he be qualified for? He blew into his cupped hands and remembered his long-ago stab at writing novels part-time; the money had been fair, but you were lost unless you could grind them out steadily. He just had not practiced enough to gain that amount of fluency.

Ida sidled across the den and put her palm gently on the rear of his neck. "Gosh, it's been an hour since you said boo," she remarked teasingly.

"I'm the strong, silent type."

"Listen to the rain pattering on the windows. Each drop sings a quiet tune, and it's our sere- nade, Maurie. You and I and your great big house."

He kissed her bare forearm as the tension zigzagged out of his extended nerves. Then he leaned back against her soft breasts. "There's poetry in the way you phrase your ideas. But we also need money for the mortgage payment."

"With your experience, a job should crop up any day now."

"I hope so."

He admired Ida for her sensitive, understanding habit of letting him forget that she was loaded financially. The trust fund donated by her parents had been the only kindness they ever showed. But Ida knew him. Come what may, he wore the pants in their relationship and would earn the bread, starting at once. Legally they would not be married until the divorce exhausted its red tape formalities.

She said, "I've already been accepted at Southern Teachers. Why don't you try them?"

"Good idea. These resumes will be sent out like confetti until I hit gold. You have to look at it as calls made by a salesman."

"Thank heaven I'm the final call you made for a lover."

He winked as he stood up and touched his glass of gin upon hers. The tinkling sound delighted him. "To your health, Ida." He swallowed the rest of the drink and eased toward the vanity dresser where his cigarets lay.

"Before you light up," she said as she followed him, "I have a secret to tell you. Something no one could ever have thought possible."

"Stop playing games."

"And you stop being such a grouch. Kiss me ten times and then I'll reveal the secret."

"By then I'll have forgotten about it and so will you."

He knew she was right; unfurling his worried brow, he relaxed his muscles and threw an embrace around her. Wake up, he thought. Enjoy life and realize that what happened to you is a triumph instead of a tragedy!

The girl's robe rustled as he peeled it away from the dynamic, throbbing loveliness of her body. His clothes were jet propelled and within seconds he sat upon the bed with just the jockey shorts on. Ida tasted scrumptious to his seeking lips. He traced a path along her ribs, up to the sheathed breasts, down again past thighs which glistened as white as fresh milk in the lamp glow.

He was tired, but he knew that for a youth like her the evening had barely started. They'd have to adjust to differences like these.

Her kisses swarmed like sizzling bits of coal over him and set his blood racing wild. They were clay statues in a furnace and he felt her skin melt inch by inch into his until they were a single entity. She gasped with joy, stroked him with affectionate adoration. The culmination drew nearer with each starving breath from his mouth as he made love to her breasts.

The sweaty bra came off easily in his fingers.

He shucked her stockings and panties to the rug swiftly and prepared for the glorious, agonizing shock that would conquer her.

"Maurie!" she cried. "You didn't ask me what the good news is!"

"Suck a tricky little Jezebel."

"Ah!! Lift me up again. You're so strong and yet gentle when you swerve us around. Don't ever stop loving me!"

"With a crazy fever like you in a man's veins, what else could he do? I'll make you light up with a tilt sign."

"First you'll have to catch me."

She tried to hop off the mattress but he had anticipated her game, and he swept her back onto her quivering spine. She giggled during the mischievous battle against his advances.

He stormed the bastile of her wondrous palace where untold riches awaited. She arced upward and sobbed. The finale shattered him like a row-boat being dashed into a rocky shore by the winter wind.

Then the heat was off and he could rest somewhat. She lit the cigaret for him, slid it between his lips, and drummed impatiently on the quilt.

"Maurie."

"Yes?"

"The world has been pretty rough on both of us. I think we'll survive, though. Especially when you look at the rosy days of the future and the clothes you'll have to buy for junior."

"That's the way the ball-" He jerked himself up quickly as his mind fastened on her meaning. "Ida, are you giving out with the secret?"

"Of course, I'm pregnant. Nothing else would surprise a sophisticated prof like you. I think we'll name him-"

Happiness frothed and bubbled within him as he kissed her several times on the neck. "You're sure it's male?"?

"Girl babies feel light as a feather when you carry them inside. So there, too. I warned you about the large families in our Reneson ancestry."

"You wonderful teenage brat." He tickled her under the breasts, aware that she was all he had expected and much more. An adult companion-the dream he'd always love-part of the slate which destiny had forged and hurled at him, daring his efforts to change it.