Oh, said Ottilie, envying her friends. Well, she wanted to know, what did people say of her, was she remembered?
Ottilie, you have no idea, said Baby; men nobody ever laid eyes on before have come into the place asking where is Ottilie, because they’ve heard about you way off in Havana and Miami. As for Mr. Jamison, he doesn’t even look at us other girls, just comes and sits on the porch drinking by himself.
Yes, said Ottilie wistfully. He was always sweet to me, Mr. Jamison.
Presently the sun was slanting, and the bottle of rum stood three-quarters empty. A thunderburst of rain had for a moment drenched the hills that now, seen through the windows, shimmered like dragonfly wings, and a breeze, rich with the scent of rained-on flowers, roamed the room rustling the green and pink papers on the walls. Many stories had been told, some of them funny, a few that were sad; it was like any night’s talk at the Champs Elysées, and Ottilie was happy to be a part of it again.
But it’s getting late, said Baby. And we promised to be back before midnight. Ottilie, can we help you pack?
Although she had not realized that her friends expected her to leave with them, the rum stirring in her made it seem a likely assumption, and with a smile she thought: I told him I would go away. Only, she said aloud, it’s not like I would have even a week to enjoy myself: Royal will come right down and get me.
Both her friends laughed at this. You’re so silly, said Baby. I’d like to see that Royal when some of our men got through with him.
I wouldn’t stand for anybody hurting Royal, said Ottilie. Besides, he’d be even madder when we got home.
Baby said: But, Ottilie, you wouldn’t be coming back here with him.
Ottilie giggled, and looked about the room as though she saw something invisible to the others. Why, sure I would, she said.
Rolling her eyes, Baby produced a fan and jerked it in front of her face. That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard, she said between hard lips. Isn’t that the craziest thing you’ve ever heard, Rosita?
It’s that Ottilie’s been through so much, said Rosita. Dear, why don’t you lie down on the bed while we pack your things?
Ottilie watched as they commenced piling her possessions. They scooped her combs and pins, they wound up her silk stockings. She took off her pretty clothes, as if she were going to put on something finer still; instead, she slipped back into her old dress; then, working quietly, and as though she were helping her friends, she put everything back where it belonged. Baby stamped her foot when she saw what was happening.
Listen, said Ottilie. If you and Rosita are my friends, please do what I tell you: tie me in the yard just like I was when you came. That way no bee is ever going to sting me.
Stinking drunk, said Baby; but Rosita told her to shut up. I think, said Rosita with a sigh, I think Ottilie is in love. If Royal wanted her back, she would go with him, and this being the way things were they might as well go home and say that Madame was right, that Ottilie was dead.
Yes, said Ottilie, for the drama of it appealed to her. Tell them that I am dead.
So they went into the yard; there, with heaving bosoms and eyes as round as the daytime moon scudding above, Baby said she would have no part in tying Ottilie to the tree, which left Rosita to do it alone. On parting, it was Ottilie who cried the most, though she was glad to see them go, for she knew that as soon as they were gone she would not think of them again. Teetering on their high heels down the dips of the path, they turned to wave, but Ottilie could not wave back, and so she forgot them before they were out of sight.
Chewing eucalyptus leaves to sweeten her breath, she felt the chill of twilight twitch the air. Yellow deepened the daytime moon, and roosting birds sailed into the darkness of the tree. Suddenly, hearing Royal on the path, she threw her legs akimbo, let her neck go limp, lolled her eyes far back into their sockets. Seen from a distance, it would look as though she had come to some violent, pitiful end; and, listening to Royal’s footsteps quicken to a run, she happily thought: This will give him a good scare.
The End
