Chapter 6

"IT'S going to pour rain," said Janey, coming in from school for lunch, "it's going to rain for weeks and weeks, cats and dogs and bucketsful, then we'll get out the ole rowboat and take along our few possessions and some hardtack. It'll be pretty awful, the flood and the waves and pouring rain, we'll probably starve." Her eyes shone with the pleasures of privation. "See!" she said, delighted, as a roll of distant out-of-season thunder seemed to corroborate her. "Boing! Man the boats, mates, and get goin'."

Janey expected a reaction from Sissy, at least a response; she needed a certain amount of emotional attention and she kept at it, but Sissy didn't even say, "Janey, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, don't be selfish, you've never been hungry"; she was staring at the door.

"Willie!" she said.

Sissy's husband stood there.

Up until now Willie had donated absolutely nothing to this little history, mostly of women, possibly because he gave so little, added such a minimum to their inner lives, worth mentioning, but his appearance now like an apparition to Sissy, unexpected and unwanted, at least out of point as to time, ghosts, forces him on our attention and we feel justified in giving him a page or two. Willie, never, in Sissy's memory, ever missed a train or let a blizzard, or as in this case, a mere northeaster, interfere with his regime. Willie always made the 8:15 in the morning and returned on the 6:20 in the evening. His appearance, then, in the doorway at 11:00 a.m. looked like a trick of Sissy's imagination, as if she had conjured him up. "I wasn't even thinking about him," she said to herself, "at least I wasn't aware of it"; a very faint feeling of guilt came over her-she had meant, one day, to tell Willie about Colin, sotto voce, because that is how she felt about Colin (sotto voce) now that he was dead: maybe this was an appointment. "Willie, what's wrong!"

Willie swayed in the doorway-no, it must be that the doorway moved-Willie unsteady!

"Sissy-" but he said it, "Thithy."

"It can't be my ears," said Sissy to herself. "Willie, you've been drinking!"

"Crisis!" said Janey. Here it came-the drama, the excitement she craved, and she sat down on the sofa and took off her boots, a front seat at Cinerama; my, how Mummy's eyes shone and Daddy was drunk as a lord!

"Leave the room, Janey!"

"A cop!" said Janey, awe-stricken; what luck!

"Like you to meet a friend of mine," said Willie, grinning sheepishly. "Shake hands with the Law," he feebly joked. It was true, a solemn-faced officer stood behind Willie in the hall, his badge reflecting the light.

"Hit 'n run?" suggested Janey tentatively, in a big whisper.

"Never felt better in ma life," said Willie. "How about another lil' drink, ole man," and he clapped the Law on the shoulder.

"Steady," said the Law.

"Ma'am," said the officer, "is this your..."

"Husband," interrupted Sissy, "yes, this is my husband."

"To have and to hold 'til death do us part," went through her head.

"He's a little under the weather," said the officer, "and I accompanied him home."

"Thank you, officer."

"A cup of black coffee, ma'am, and-well, good day, ma'am." Something on Sissy's face made him add, "A very polite gentleman, some of them get mean, an ice-bag, perhaps, well, good day, ma'am."

"Willie," said Sissy, sternly, as the man left, "go to your room!"

Willie smiled and swayed. "'Mere," he said, "give us a kiss."

"I said go to your room this instant!" She glanced at Janey, but there was no help in Willie, she was alone. "Drunk as a lord," said Janey, "drunk as a lord."

"Willie! Go!"

"Look," said Willie, his temper changing, "am I a man or a mouse!" This was it, and he trembled violently.

Tact sealed Sissy's mouth, even Janey's. In the air there was a decision to be made and they left Willie, as if they had been advised by an expert, all by himself, like a tightrope walker suspended over nothing whom no one could help. Willie made the decision: sweeping out his arm like a scythe, he swung it through the air and Sissy's best yellow glazed vase received the blow.

Janey felt the reprieve first. "Daddy!" she sang out, "there goes your allowance!"

After the hangover Willie didn't take the 8:15 and Sissy felt irritated at his presence; he followed her around, mild as ever, but with a little frown puckering his forehead. "How foolish he is," Sissy thought, "the big baby."

"Willie," she said, "you don't have to apologize again."

"All right," said Willie, but he followed her into the kitchen and sat down at the table. He picked up the saltcellar and carefully salted the palm of his hand and licked it. He picked up the pepper mill....

"Look out," said Sissy, "that's pepper."

Willie ground some onto the table and pushed the little pile of it with his finger.

"Willie, if you've nothing to do, get me the butter."

Willie went to the icebox and opened the door. He looked absently into it and after a while Sissy said, "Please, Willie, shut the icebox door."

"Anything else?" said Willie, having produced nothing.

"Yes," said Sissy, she began to wonder about Willie's wits, "hand me a saucepan, you'll find it under the sink." Willie took out a can of Babo and read the directions carefully. He replaced it and sat down at the kitchen table again. He began to whistle softly to himself.

"Willie," said Sissy, "won't they miss you at the office?"

"Oh, no," he said. "They won't?"

"They won't miss me," he said, shaking his head. A peculiar little smile lifted one corner of his mouth.

"But you had better go tomorrow, Willie." Sissy suddenly thought, "He isn't going tomorrow either!"

"I'm not going tomorrow either," said Willie, retaining the crooked smile and looking out of the window, but his body had stiffened a little. He seemed to wait for Sissy to scream or something, was he teasing her. What in the world had come over Willie? Sissy, used to the suspenses that her children created to gain her attention, began to beat an egg. Willie watched her, and didn't follow the pattern, he didn't say, "Why do you suppose I'm not going back to the office tomorrow," or "Guess what, Mummy." He said, "Beatin' an egg?"

"Yes, I am," said Sissy.

"Well, I guess I'm in the way, if there's nothing else for me to do, I'll go down to the post office and mail a letter.

"Sissy," said Willie, coming back, "I'm sorry I got spiflicated."

"Really, Willie, please, it doesn't matter." Sissy felt a mild hysteria coming over her, but she put the mixture into the oven and carefully reduced the heat.

"Well..." said Willie.

"Yes?" Sissy looked up, it was time, just the right time, he would speak. But he didn't, it was as if he just didn't work, like a zany old clock that didn't keep time.

"I got to go, if I want to get that letter mailed," said Willie.

"Well, do you?" said Sissy a little sarcastically.

"What dear?"

"Want to get the letter mailed?"

"I had it somewhere," said Willie, slapping his pockets.

Sissy was in a deep and wholesome sleep, dreamless, when Willie woke her up, he had to shake her. "Sissy, are you awake?"

"I am now," said Sissy. "What is it?"

"Sissy, I'm a heel."

"Please, I'm sleepy, Willie."

"I just can't get over it. If you only knew how bad I feel, how sorry I am, getting drunk like that."

"For Christ's sake!" said Sissy, but she lowered her voice, she hadn't quite lost control. She blushed. Sissy never used what is called strong language. "Really!" she said. She snapped on the light. "Where are you, Willie, get back in bed." She had looked at Willie's bed, sure he was there, and was startled, he wasn't. It hadn't even been slept in. Willie stood in the center of the room fully dressed except for his tie and shoes.

"What's that in your hand!"

"A gun," said Willie pitifully, "just a ole gun."

"Willie dear," said Sissy, "be a good boy," and she went up to him and unclasped his trembling fingers. "Someone might get hurt," she said gently, with a smile, "let me have it." She took the gun, where had he got it? and locked it in the desk.

"Please put out the light," said Willie, his voice firm.

"Why?"

"It'll be easier."

"What will be easier?" Sissy showed no fear, really felt none. "I must call the doctor," she thought, "this is serious."

"To tell you," said Willie.

"Well maybe," thought Sissy, and she said, "It's out, Willie," as she snapped it off. Willie had made up his mind and lost no time.

"I've been fired," he said.

"Willie!"

"Fired," he sobbed.

"Willie, my darling," said Sissy, "come sit beside me, it's not the end of the world."

"Willie fired?" she thought. "Why?"

"Another firm will be glad to have you," said Sissy. "It doesn't make any difference, a change will do you good, there, Willie, darling, don't cry." Where in the world was Sissy's insight? How hard she was making it for him.

"Gimme the gun!" said Willie hysterically. "Shhh, baby."

"I'm a... I'm a..." said Willie, "that's what I am." Big tears rolled down his cheeks.

"You are not a heel and I don't care if you get drunk, in fact that's exactly what you need, I'll get you a drink," said Sissy and she got up.

Sissy's back was turned and so he managed to get it out quickly; it seemed doubly dark with Sissy's face gone. "I'm an embezzler," he said, loud and clear.

Sissy wheeled, anger welled up in her, she lost her control. "You're crazy!"

A disturbed look came over Willie's pallid tear-stained face, he looked inside his jacket on both sides as if for the tailor's date.... "I don't think so," he said after a while.

"The simpleton," thought Sissy to herself. "What am I supposed to do now?"

"Willie," she said, "let's go to bed."

Willie flared up. "Go to bed! What's the matter with you, didn't you hear me! I'm an embezzler!" He seemed almost proud of it.

"I heard you," said Sissy quietly.

How irritating she was, didn't she care! "It doesn't seem to bother you that I am going to jail," said Willie crossly.

"Oh," said Sissy, "jail?"

"Jail," said Willie pompously.

"Oh, no!" said Sissy, frightened.

He saw the fear on her face and it strengthened him still more. "That's where you go for stealing," he said.

"Stealing?" said Sissy. It seemed worse than embezzling. "Oh, no, Willie, not stealing."

"And forgery," added Willie, with some dignity. "I got pretty good at it, I have to admit."

Sissy stared at her husband. "Fancy," she said to herself, "sleeping in the same room, sometimes the same bed, with a stranger for thirty years!" She went to the dressing room and put on her bathrobe, added a Little lipstick.

"Not going to bed now after all," said Willie, triumphantly. "Don't you want to know," he said slowly, "how much?"

Sissy couldn't believe her ears. "No," she said, "I don't think I do."

"You don't think it's important? How much?" Willie was astonished and disappointed.

Sissy hung her head and wondered what had happened to her marriage, where she had been all those years, who really was, Willie? She looked at him blankly.

"Women," said Willie, "don't know anything about business!"

"How much?" said Sissy, dully, thinking somehow, in some peculiar way, that she was changing the subject. And she was: this began to be like a play, an entertainment one went to to get away, escape from one's own deep sorry thoughts. Did Willie really think how much made any difference? "How funny men are," she thought, lumping them all together, "they think so dishonestly; it's one thing to steal, but to think so dishonestly." She underlined it in her mind.

Willie felt he was losing her attention, so he doubled the actual amount.

"One-hundred-thousand-dollars," he said. But he had overdone it, Sissy couldn't imagine that much money, really. She said nothing.

"Don't you think that's a lot?" asked Willie. "I mean it is quite a bit, if I do say so myself."

"I guess," said Sissy, "I'll sleep in the other room if you don't mind, I want..." she tried to be tactful, "I want to read awhile... you're all right now, dear?"

"Oh, sure," said Willie, "g'night." As Sissy was almost out the door, Willie's bombastic mood changed. "Sissy?"

"Yes?" Her hand was on the knob. "I'm sorry I got drunk."

"Oh, that!" said Sissy, relieved; she giggled hysterically. "Think nothing of it."

Willie slept soundly, believing he had confessed, believing, too, that he was a man, a male-"one-hundred-thousand-dollars"-he cupped his hand over his private parts and confidently slept, just as he had as a little boy after a big day and his mother had said, after scolding him soundly, "It's all right now, Willie, go to bed." Both the scolding and the reprieve had reassured him, as it did now.

His second mother lay in the next room wide awake.

Sissy, used to eight hours sleep, didn't feel very good in the morning. She had spent the night like a drowning person watching her past life, its incidents and occasions, pass across her forehead. But she could not pick out the telling snapshot that would clear up the mystery of Willie. Neither playing tennis, or clipping the willows, or swinging off the 6:20 did she glimpse the evidence in his look, the symptom that she should perhaps have taken care of. Naturally she blamed herself for his delinquency and accused herself of neglect. After a pleasant courtship, a church wedding, gifts, the babies had started coming, and her attention had been given to them, but she had been brought up to believe, at least she did believe that her husband was there, dependable, in an emergency might be of some help. Well, here was the emergency and she was alone. Colin? She heard herself say, surprisingly, "That rat!" It was like a baptism: she named him and forgot him for good.

Willie, the felon, felt rather better than usual. Willie was not a seeker after the truth. If he didn't feel good, he took a pill, but he never inquired further into the causes of things. He had upped the fifty thousand to one hundred thousand to gain Sissy's attention, but he believed now that it was a hundred thousand and a pleasant sense of awe enveloped him. But he fooled, cryptic as it seems, himself as well as Sissy by a partial confession nevertheless. The thing he never intended to tell Sissy he camouflaged with numbers and an eye-catching sleight-of-hand performance that he had staged that night in the bedroom, calling himself names and begging forgiveness for his drunken spree. The orgy, the tears, the confession, Sissy's forgiveness, was the pattern, even the logic, certainly the cure, and the premise, the real thing, the real sin, the shocking truth, was lost sight of.

Sissy got used to the idea of Willie's going to jail; they had let him off with a short sentence as it was the first offense of an obviously stupid man who was not exactly a menace to society. His colleagues had pleaded for him, his lawyer had stressed twenty years of honest living, the alienist said that he was a sick man and the jury had recommended mercy. The judge, a fellow commuter and bridge partner, had blown his nose hard and quoted, "Let him who is without sin, cast the first stone."

Willie manfully arranged his affairs and whistled softly to himself about the place as if he were going to Bermuda.

Then Sissy, who thought she had put the shock behind her and was resting quietly-she was taking a pound cake out of the oven, how good it smelled, it was perfect-when unprepared, completely unprepared as she was, to cope with it, it came to her, in the form of a question, "What did he do with all that money!"

Sissy sat down at the kitchen table, and with her head on one side, tried to think. She had used her own money to go Willie's bail, that she knew. That they had not spent any more than usual she also knew, in fact, they had lived very frugally, indeed, within their income, and Sissy had pinched a little, although it was against her nature, with Paula's wedding in mind. Well, Paula would just have to have a tiny wedding and definitely could not have the navy-blue dyed mouton jacket to go away in. Sissy shook her head. "Kindly stay on the point," she said out loud. "What happened to one hundred thousand dollars!"

"Willie!"

"Coming!"

She asked him.

He spread out his hands. "It just went," he said. Willie looked her straight in the eye. "It just kind of melted away," he said sadly, "I shouldn't have got drunk."

Then it happened: Sweetie Pie, it began, It's been a long time since you held me in your arms-where have you been? Thank you, lover, for the check, you really shouldn't but it did come in handy... the cabin looks so nice so please let me know when your next "business trip" will be....

"Ahhh!" Sissy shook with anger, not at Willie, silly Sissy, but at "the little bitch."

She had picked up the note absent-mindedly, thinking nothing of it, when the words Sweetie Pie jumped at her off the page; even then she thought it was some of Janey's nonsense. But it was true, Willie was having a vulgar affair! How really indecent of him, how completely nasty. For some reason his pale parts drifted into her vision like leftovers floating down a stream. "How disgusting!" she cried out. She couldn't help it, she saw the nasty little lovers plainly: Willie's ridiculous pink buttocks and the little bitch, but she had no face because Sissy couldn't, or didn't want to, place her. It is not clear whether Sissy was jealous but it didn't seem so, it was, rather, a sickening disgust, a disillusionment, an almost horror of her foolish Willie. That she had slept with him once a week for thirty years appalled her.

But Sissy didn't say a word to Willie. She kept out of the way of his hands and when she saw that look, knowing that it meant just one tiling, and that, the thing she was determined never again to endure, she used all her ingenuity to dissipate it. "Let's go to the movies for a change, it will do you good."

Willie, no great lover, but a creature of habit, upon finding Sissy uncooperative, stayed out all night and came back smelling of liquor. "I'm a heel," he said. It became a refrain and Sissy no longer denied it.

Sissy waited for him to be taken to jail before she collapsed. "Pusillanimous sneak," she sobbed, and, "That dirty little bitch." She was aghast as the words flocked out of her mouth and hung a moment in the air before exploding in her ears. Sissy was having her first attack of self-indulgence, her first crack-up, and she was surprised how good it felt. "Why didn't I think of this before," she giggled.