«But Mona,» I said gently, «I’ve got some money for you. Yes, I have. Look!»
I extracted the two fifty dollar bills and placed them in her hand.
To my amazement she began to laugh, a weird, three-pronged laugh which became more and more uncontrollable. I put my arms around her. «Easy, Mona, easy… you’re terribly upset.»
The tears came to her eyes. «I can’t help it, Val,» she said weakly, «it reminds me so much of my father. He used to do the same thing. Just when everything was blackest he would turn up with flowers or some crazy gift. You’re just like him. You’re dreamers, both of you. That’s why I love you.» She flung her arms around me passionately and began to sob. «Don’t tell me where you got it,» she muttered. «I don’t care. I don’t care if you stole it. I’d steal for you, you know that, don’t you?
Val, they don’t deserve the money. I want you to buy something for yourself—. Or», she added impulsively, «get something for the little one. Get something beautiful, something wonderful— that she’ll always remember.»
«Val,» she said, trying to collect herself, «you trust me, don’t you? You won’t ever ask me things I can’t answer, will you? Promise me!»
We were seated in the big arm chair. I held her in my lap, smoothing down her hair by way of answer.
«You see, Val, if you hadn’t come along, I don’t know what would have happened to me. Until I met you I felt—well, almost as if my life didn’t belong to me. I didn’t care what I did, if only they would leave me in peace. I can’t bear to have them ask for things. I feel humiliated. They’re all helpless, every one of them. Except my sister. She could do things—she’s a very practical, level-headed sort. But she wants to play the lady. ‘It’s enough to have one wild one in the family,’ she says, meaning me. I’ve disgraced them, that’s what she thinks. And she wants to punish me, by making me submit to more and more indignities. She takes a fiendish delight in seeing me bring the money that no one lifts a finger to raise. She makes all sorts of foul insinuations. I could kill her. And my father doesn’t seem to realize the situation at all. He thinks she’s sweet—angelic. He wouldn’t let her make the least sacrifice—she’s too delicate to be exposed to the brutal contamination of the world. Besides, she’s a wife and a mother. But I….» Her eyes became filled with tears again. «I don’t know what they think I’m made of. I’m strong, that’s all they think. I can stand anything. I’m the wild one. God, sometimes I think they’re insane, the whole pack of them. Where do they think I get the money? They don’t care… they don’t dare to ask.»
«Will your father ever get well?» I asked after a long silence.
«I don’t know, Val.»
«If he were dead,» she added, «I’d never go near the others again. They could starve to death, I wouldn’t move a muscle.»
«You know,» she said, «you don’t resemble him at all, physically, and yet you’re so much alike. You’re weak and tender, like him. But you weren’t spoiled, as he was. You know how to take care of yourself, when you want to—but he never learned. He was always helpless. My mother sucked the blood out of him. She treated him like she treats me. Anything to have her own way…. I wish you could meet him—before he dies. I’ve often dreamed of it.» «We probably will meet some day,» said I, though I didn’t think it at all likely.
«You’d adore him, Val. He has such a wonderful sense of humor. He’s a great story teller, too. I think he would have been a writer, if he hadn’t married my mother.»
She got up and began to make her toilette, still talking in a fond way about her father and the life he had known in Vienna and other places. It was getting time to leave for the dance hall.
Suddenly she turned abruptly away from the mirror and said: «Val, why don’t you write in your spare time? You always wanted to write—why don’t you do it? You don’t need to call for me so often. You know, I’d much rather come home and find you working at the typewriter. You aren’t to stay at that job all your life, are you?»
She came over to me and put her arms around me. «Let me sit in your lap,» she said. Listen, dear Val… you mustn’t sacrifice yourself for me. It’s bad enough that one of us does it. I want you to free yourself. I know you’re a writer—and I don’t care how long it takes until you become known. I want to help you… Val, you’re not listening.» She nudged me gently. «What are you thinking of?»
«Oh, nothing,» I said. «I was just dreaming.»
«Val, do something, please! Don’t let’s go on this way. Look at this place! How did we ever get here? What are we doing here? We’re a little mad too, you and I. Val, do start in—to-night, yes? I like you when you’re moody. I like to think that you have thoughts about other things. I like it when you say crazy things. I wish I could think that way. I’d give anything to be a writer. To have a mind, to dream, to get lost in other people’s problems, to think of something else beside work and money…. You remember that story you wrote for me once—about Tony and Joey? Why don’t you write something for me again? Just for me. Val, we must try to do something… we must find a way out. Do you hear?»
I had heard only too well. Her words were running in my head like a refrain.
I jumped up, as if to brush the cobwebs away. I caught her by the waist and held her at arm’s length. «Mona, things are going to be different soon. Very soon. I feel it…. Let me walk you to the station—I need a breath of air.»
I could see that she was slightly disappointed; she had hoped for something more positive.
«Mona,» I said, as we walked rapidly down the street, «one doesn’t change all at once, like that! I do want to write, yes, I’m sure of it. But I’ve got to collect myself. I don’t ask to have it easy, but I need a little tranquillity. I can’t switch from one thing to another so easily. I hate my job just as much as you hate yours. And I don’t want another job: I want a complete break. I want to be with myself for a while, see how it feels. I hardly know myself, living the way I do. I’m engulfed. I know all about others—and nothing about myself. I know only that I feel. I feel too much. I’m drained dry. I wish I could have days, weeks, months, just to think. Now I think from moment to moment. It’s a luxury, to think.»
She squeezed my hand, as if to tell me she understood.
«When I get back to the house I’m going to sit down and try to think. Maybe I’ll fall asleep. It seems as though I were geared up only for action. I’ve become a machine.»
«Do you know what I think sometimes?» I went on. «I think that if I had two or three quiet days of just sheer thinking I’d upset everything. Fundamentally everything is cock-eyed. It’s that way because we don’t dare to let ourselves think. I ought to go the office one day and blow out Spivak’s brains. That’s the first step….»
We had come to the elevated station.
«Don’t think about such things just now,» she said. «Sit down and dream. Dream something wonderful for me. Don’t think about those ugly little people. Think of me!»
She ran up the steps lightly, waving goodbye.
I was strolling leisurely back to the house, dreaming of another, richer life, when suddenly I remembered, or thought I remembered, her leaving the two fifty dollar bills on the mantelpiece under the vase filled with artificial flowers. I could see them sticking out half-way, just as she had placed them. I broke into a trot. I knew that if Kronski saw them he would filch them. He would do it not because he was dishonest but to torture me.
As I drew near the house I thought of Crazy Sheldon. I even began to imitate his way of speaking, though I was out of breath from running. I was laughing to myself as I opened the door.
The room was empty and the money was gone. I knew it would be thus. I sat down and laughed again. Why hadn’t I said anything to Mona about Monahan? Why hadn’t I mentioned anything to her about the theatre? Usually I spilled things out immediately, but this time something had held me back, some instinctive distrust of Monahan’s intentions.
I was on the point of calling up the dance hall to see if by chance Mona had taken the money without my noticing it. I got up to go to the telephone but on the way I changed my mind. The impulse seized me to explore the house a bit. I wandered to the rear of the house and descended the stairs. After a few steps I came upon a large room with blinding lights in which the laundry was drying. There was a
