Heaven Ran Last

Chapter II

I spent the next two days in my room. I used up a couple bottles of rye and I must have passed out completely two or three times. None of it helped.

I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I knew things between us weren’t over and never would be.

The night of the second day, I quit drinking. I felt sick and dirty and weak. My room had a stale hot smell and there was the coppery taste of whisky in my mouth. I pushed up on one elbow, switched on the bed lamp and looked around. There were two empty bottles on the floor, my clothes were in a pile and there was sweat on my bare chest.

It was a hot night and the wind coming in the window was suffocating. I was a million miles from anybody, shut away in a dirty hotel room and ready to come apart because of one woman who was gone from me forever.

That was the way I was feeling. I snapped off the light and stretched out again on my back. The darkness and heat came in on me, crowding close until I felt I wouldn’t be able to breathe again.

Thoughts came crowding in on me, too. I tried to push them away, but I was remembering the night I’d met her and it all came back like it happened yesterday instead of three years ago...

I was feeling good that night. I had a little book then, on Sheridan Road, out North, and things were breaking pretty good. I was sitting in a bar out that way when I saw her come in. This was ten o’clock, the middle of the week, and there wasn’t much of a crowd.

The bar was one of those places with red leather booths, a lot of fancy chromium trimmings and the waiters in tuxedos. A place that tried to be a supper club and missed by a country mile.

She came in and sat down on one of the bar stools and ordered a drink. Then she went through a little business of checking her watch with the one over the bar, like she was waiting for somebody.

I liked what I could see of her. She was tall and had good legs. Her hair was long and dark and it went well with her white skin and soft, full lips.

I watched her while I sipped my drink. She glanced at her watch again after a few minutes, and then she looked down the bar to where I was sitting but it didn’t mean anything. She just flicked me with a glance and went back to her drink.

I waited for her to look my way again but she didn’t, so I got up and walked over to where she was sitting. I stopped about a stool away and told the bartender I wanted cigarettes. When he tossed them on the bar I opened them up and started fumbling for a match. I fumbled around in my pockets until she looked at me.

I grinned at her and said, “Just fresh out, I guess. Can you help me out?”

There was a pack of matches on the bar in front of her and she shoved them down toward me without saying anything. I lit one and when it flared up I could see her eyes, big and deep and the kind of blue that looks almost black.

“Thanks,” I said. I held the cigarettes out to her. “Have one?”

“No, thanks. I just put one out.”

“Well, I’ve got to do something for you.” I waved to the bartender. “Eddie, give the lady a drink and build one for me while you’re at it.”

“I really don’t want a drink,” she said. It sounded like she was beginning to get mad. “I can buy my own when I do.”

“Sure you can,” I said. “But I was just being friendly. No law against that, is there?”

She didn’t say anything to that and pretty soon Eddie came over with the drinks. She looked at hers for a minute like she didn’t know what to do, and then she shrugged.

“All right. Thanks.”

“That’s the spirit. Mind if I sit here for a while?”

“No law against that, either,” she said, and smiled a little.

I figured this would be a cinch. I sat down and pulled the stool a little closer, but when I tried to take her hand she pulled it away quick.

“Take it easy,” she said. “I think you’ve made a mistake about me. The drink is all right and you sit here all night if you want to, but that’s all there is to it. Do you understand what I mean?”

I decided I was going too fast, but that’s the way I am and it’s the way I like to do everything. But she was getting under my skin and I made up my mind she was worth slowing down for.

She had on a white dress and not much under it. Her legs were bare and she had them crossed so I could see the long smooth muscles in her calves. I liked the clean shiny look of her hair and I liked the way her lips stuck out a little, soft and thick and smooth. Her features weren’t regular, they weren’t like a doll’s, but the way they were put together made her face look interesting. It was funny. She looked nice, like she might have a job as a secretary or something, but there was something else underneath that to make you think of things that were tough and mean and wild. And I wanted to know that part of her.

“I’m sorry,” I said. I tried to look like I meant it, but it’s hard for me to look like anything but what I am. “You must think I’m just hanging around here waiting for a pick-up. Well, that’s not it. I was just lonely and I wanted somebody to talk to. That’s all.”

She eyed me steadily, and she didn’t seem angry any more, but she looked plenty cool and sure of herself.

“All right. Let’s leave it right here, then.”

We talked for a while about things that didn’t mean anything at all but she wasn’t paying much attention to me or what we were talking about. She just stared at her drink and said yes or no every now and then. There was something on her mind. She began to look angry again, like something was building up inside her.

Finally she looked straight at me and said, “You thought I came in looking for something, didn’t you?”

I shrugged. “Maybe I did. There’s no reason to get sore about it. You’re a swell looking dish and you came in alone. A girl who comes in alone to a place like this and sits at the bar is generally looking for somebody or anybody. You can’t blame me for figuring you wrong.”

“There are a lot of girls alone these days,” she said. “I’m one of them. My husband left for overseas last week, and I haven’t seen him for the last year, except for a few furloughs. I can either sit home in my apartment and read a magazine every night of the week, or go out alone and have a drink. That’s why I’m alone, not because I’m looking for anything.”

“You don’t have to be alone. There’s still a few guys left around.”

“You’re making the most of it, too, aren’t you?” She smiled a little, but there wasn’t any humor in the smile. “You look healthy enough; why aren’t you in the army?”

“They don’t want me,” I said. I was mad enough myself, now, to hit her across those smooth full lips of hers, but I tried a gag to cover up how much she was bothering me. “They said to come back if there’s an invasion. The doc who looked me over said if they started taking guys like me he’d sell his war bonds.”

She didn’t smile. “And you think every girl who’s alone is just waiting for you to come around and keep her company, don’t you? What makes you think a girl would want you if the army doesn’t?”

That was just talk. I didn’t mind the army cracks. I was out and I wanted to stay out and to hell with playing soldier, but she was so tough and mean under that polite skin of hers that it made me boil. I wanted to know all about that toughness and meanness.

I said, “I’m sorry if I offended you.” I sounded like I meant it. I went into an act then, but I didn’t ham it up. I just looked serious and talked kind of quiet. “I don’t blame you for feeling the way you do. It must burn you up to see a young guy like me walking around, while your husband’s gone and everything, but they don’t want me and that’s all there is to it. Do you think it’s fun being looked at by mothers with kids over there, or being called 4-F by every girl you meet. Well, you can have it.”

We were quiet for a minute or two, looking at our drinks, and I kept the serious look on my face, until finally she looked over at me and said, “Well, don’t let it get you down. Maybe I was pretty hard on you. I’m sorry, but you made me angry.”

“Well, can’t I square it some way?”

“It doesn’t matter, but thanks. I’ve got to be getting home anyway.”

“Maybe I could give you a lift?”

She looked down at her glass and then she shrugged her shoulders a little and smiled. She looked back at me and said, “There isn’t any law against that either, I guess.”

“Fine,” I said. “Do you feel like another drink?”

“No, I’ve really got to be going.”

I picked up my change and the cigarettes and we went outside. It was warm and the air had a soft feel to it. It was a pretty night, with a clear sky and lots of stars.

We walked along the sidewalk without saying anything until we came to my car. I didn’t have the Packard then, but it was a pretty nice car, an Oldsmobile, a forty-two.

We got in and I put the windows down and turned on the radio. Freddy Martin came in, nice and soft, playing As Time Goes By.

“That’s one of my favorites,” she said. She pushed her hair back and began to hum the tune under her breath.

“Mine too,” I said. “How about a drive to cool off before I take you home?”

She hummed a little more and then she looked over at me with a twisted smile. “All right, but not too long.” I went north, on Sheridan, all the way to Glencoe. She hummed the songs that came in on the radio, and her voice was nice, kind of husky and low but the pitch was good.

There was a breeze coming in from the lake and it had that cool clean sea smell. We went out to where there were trees beside the road and it was nice driving along through the dark, listening to her sing and feeling the breeze on my face. She seemed quiet and relaxed now, and it made her look prettier, almost like a kid, but I liked her the other way better.

Finally she said, “I think we’d better go back. I have to be up early in the morning.”

I didn’t argue with her. I just said, “Okay,” and turned the car around and started back. I drove slow and it was about twelve when I pulled up in front of her apartment on Winthrop avenue. I cut the motor and switched the lights off and the darkness and quiet came crowding into the car.

We didn’t say anything for a while and then I looked over at her. She was looking straight ahead and sitting perfectly still.

“Cigarette?” I said.

She nodded and I gave her one. I lit a match and held it for her and then I lit my own. We just sat there, smoking, and something started building between us in the warm darkness.

“I’ve got to be up early in the morning,” she said, and her voice was too natural. “Seven-thirty.”

“That is early. What time do you have to be down town?”

“By nine.”

“Who do you work for?”

“Tone and Smith. That’s an insurance agency. The main office is in New York.”

“Must be a pretty big outfit.”

“Yes, it is.”

Just words. They didn’t mean anything. We weren’t thinking about anything except the thing we were feeling. My mouth was dry and the cigarette tasted like something to be thrown away. I tossed it out the window.

“Do you live alone here?”

“Yes. It’s just a two-room apartment. I like being alone. I could get a girl to share expenses with me, but I wouldn’t like having someone around in the morning. There’s enough for me to do taking care of myself, without having some girl borrowing my stockings and getting in my way. In the morning I make the orange juice and put the coffee on before I take my shower. Then I have breakfast and dress in time to catch the eight-fifteen bus.” She laughed a little. “It’s like living on a time-table.”

“Do you mind being alone at night?” I said.

She didn’t answer that and we sat there while the silence and tension kept building.

“I’d better go up,” she said finally, but she made no move to get out.

“How about a night cap? Anything to drink upstairs?”

“It’s pretty late. There’s nothing but gin anyway.”

“Gin’s fine.”

“I’ve really got to go.”

“Okay.” I looked at her. “Good night.”

“Good night,” she said. She didn’t move. Then she looked over at me and her eyes were wide and shiny. “You might give me a ring sometime.”

“We’d better leave it at good night,” I said.

We sat there a little while longer and she was waiting for me to say something else, but I kept looking straight ahead.

Finally she said in a low voice, “Are you sure you don’t mind gin?”

That was how it started.

I stayed with her that night and from then on there wasn’t anything else for me—

I sat up on the edge of the bed and snapped the light on again. I was crying then and I was sick and cold and I guess I must have been half crazy, because I picked up the phone and called her number. I had to talk to her, that was all I knew.

I heard the phone buzz a few times and then I heard his voice.

“Hello,” he said.

“Is Alice there?”

“Yeah, she’s here. Who’s this?”

I came to then. I put the receiver back fast and sat there shaking, wondering if he’d recognized my voice. I knew I’d done a crazy thing. What would he think of me calling his wife in the middle of the night? He might go in to her and start yelling about it and she might get hot and start talking.

I laid down and tried to get myself under control. I had to get straightened out before I did something crazy again that would tip him off about what had been going on between Alice and me while he was away.

She told me one night about his temper and how strong he was. If he ever suspected anything he’d go out of his head, I knew.

I’d known him a little bit before I met her. We used to talk about what a funny coincidence that was. We were staying at a little cabin up in northern Wisconsin one night, lying in bed under about six comforters when something she said clicked in my mind.

“Frank Olsen? A guy by that name used to come into my place. Was this husband of yours a big red-head?”

“That’s him. It’s odd that you should know him, isn’t it? He used to play the horses occasionally.”

“Yeah, a two-dollar bettor. How’d you come to marry him?”

“I don’t know. I was twenty then. He had a good job and he was very much in love with me. I was curious, I guess. I was willing to go to a hotel with him, but that shocked him. He wanted it done legally, so we got married.”

“Do you love him now?”

“I never loved him. Oh, Johnny,” she said, and her voice was ragged. She twisted around in my arm and I kissed her, and we forgot all about him, and we never talked about him very much after that night.

My phone buzzed then and I pick it up, feeling suddenly scared.

It was the switchboard operator. “Did you get that number all right, Mr. Ford?”

“I got it,” I said. I knew she’d been listening and she must have thought it funny that I hung up without talking.

“I just wanted to make sure,” she said.

I hung up and went into the bathroom and switched on the light over the mirror. I looked like hell. I knew I ought to shave and take a shower and then go down and get the late race results and see how much money I’d need the next day to cover the bets I’d taken, but I didn’t feel like doing anything.

I turned off the light and went back and flopped on the bed.

The phone rang again a little later. I picked it up and put it to my ear.

“Johnny?”

I rose up on one elbow and my hands were shaking.

“Alice, is that you? Where are you, baby?”

“Yes, it’s me. Johnny, did you call the apartment a little while ago?”

“I had to talk to you, baby. Where are you?”

“I’m at the drug store. I told Frank I was going to get some ice cream. God, Johnny, don’t ever do that again.”

“I’ve got to see you.” My voice was shaking like my hands and I was almost crying. “Do you hear, baby? I got to see you.”

“Oh, Johnny, I want to see you. I can’t stand this much longer. I can’t bear him. I want you. What are we going to do, Johnny?”

“Can you come down now?”

“He’s waiting for me; I can’t. Tomorrow night I’ll tell him I’m staying down to work. I can see you then, but not for long.”

“What time?”

“Right after work. About six.”

“Alice, I love you, baby. When I think of you with him I go crazy. I can’t work, or eat or anything.”

“I love you, Johnny,” she said, but the words were muffled and I could hear her crying.

“Taking it easy, baby. Better get home with the ice cream now, before he gets suspicious. I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow night.”

“I don’t want to go home. I want to be with you, Johnny.”

“Tomorrow night,” I said.

“All right, Johnny.”

She hung up and I went back into the bathroom and snapped on the light, I didn’t look any better than before, but I felt able to do something about it now. I shaved, took a long shower and brushed my teeth a few times. After that I put on clean underwear, a new glen plaid suit and a starched shirt with the kind of long pointed collar I liked. With black-and-white sport shoes and blue, polka-dot tie I looked pretty good. I combed my hair and splashed some after-shave-lotion on my face.

I looked at myself in the mirror and I was pretty sharp. I felt a lot better, too, and I wondered for a minute if that was because I knew she was having a tough time of it, too.

I was hungry and I knew I could eat, so I snapped out the lights and went downstairs to get a steak and pick up the race results.