The Listening Walls

8.

On Sunday, the twenty-eighth of September, three days after Gill’s visit to Dodd, the Kellogg’s maid, Gerda Lundquist returned from her month’s vacation in Yellowstone National Park.

She called Rupert from the bus depot in the hope that, since it was Sunday and he wouldn’t be working, he might offer to come and pick her up. No one answered the telephone so she grudgingly took a taxi. The vacation had been hard on her pocketbook, and on her nerves too, especially toward the end when the snows began and people swarmed out of the park, leaving it to the bears and the chipmunks and the antelopes for the winter. Gerda was looking forward to a nice pay check and some warm, cozy evenings in front of the television set the Kelloggs had given her the previous Christmas. Television was so restful she often went to sleep watching it, and Mrs. Kellogg would come to her door and rap softly and ask, “Gerda? Did you forget to turn off the television, Gerda?” Mrs. Kellogg never commanded, never gave a direct order. She asked politely, “Would you mind...” or “What do you think of...” as if she respected Gerda’s superior age and wider experience in life.

She let herself into the house with her latchkey and went immediately out to the kitchen where she filled the teakettle with water to heat for some postum and a boiled egg. The kitchen was very clean, the dishes washed, the sink shining, signs that Mrs. Kellogg must be home from Mexico. Mr. Kellogg was more willing than able around the kitchen.

As the kettle began to hum, so did Gerda, an old song from her childhood in Minnesota, the words of which had long since been forgotten. She did not hear Rupert come in, she was only aware of a sudden change in the room, and she turned and saw him standing in the doorway to the hall. His hair was disheveled, and his face and ears were pink with wind as if he’d been running in the park with Mack.

He stared at her in silence for a few seconds. He seemed to be trying to figure out who she was and what she was doing in his house. Then he said, “Good evening, Gerda,” in a flat voice with no welcome in it.

“Good evening, Mr. Kellogg.”

“How was the vacation?”

“Oh, it was grand. But I don’t mind telling you it’s good to be back home.”

“I’m glad to have you back.”

But he didn’t sound glad or look glad, and Gerda wondered what she had done to displease him. How could I have done anything? I was in Yellowstone. Ach, it’s just one of his moods. Not many people know about his moods. “How’s Mrs. Kellogg?” she said carefully. “And Mack?”

“Mrs. Kellogg is away on another holiday. She took Mack with her.”

“But...” The kettle began to whistle as if in warning. Gerda compressed her lips and busied herself at the stove, trying not to look at the wooden peg beside the back door where Mack’s red and black plaid leash was hanging. She could feel Mr. Kellogg’s eyes pointing at her back like a double-barreled gun.

“But what, Gerda? Go on.”

“I wasn’t about to say anything. Would you care for an egg, Mr. Kellogg?”

“No thanks. I’ve had supper.”

“Eating in restaurants for so long like I did makes you hungry for something real homey like a soft-boiled egg.”

The egg cracked in the boiling water. Gerda added a pinch of salt to the water so the egg white wouldn’t all drool out of the shell. Her hand was shaking and some of the salt spilled on the stove, turning the blue flame of gas momentarily to orange. That’s Mack’s leash hanging by the door. He’s a well-behaved dog, the best, but no one would ever take him out without his leash because of the traffic. Especially not Mrs. Kellogg. She’s nervous about cars. She’s never even learned to drive. She said aloud, “Have you been eating in restaurants or at home while Mrs. Kellogg is away?”

“Half and half.”

“I must say you’ve kept the kitchen real nice and neat.”

“Miss Burton dropped by this morning on her way home from church and helped clean up.”

“Oh,” Gerda said. Miss Burton, that creature with the dyed hair. On her way home from church, was she, and what were the churches coming to these days, pray tell?

She took the egg out of the saucepan and put it in an egg cup. Then she buttered a piece of bread and sat down at the table to eat. Mr. Kellogg was still standing in the doorway watching her with that funny expression in his eyes. It made her so nervous she could hardly swallow.

“By the way,” Rupert said, “you’ll be interested to know that Mack left in high style. My wife brought him a new leash from Mexico, one of those fancy, hand-tooled leather jobs.”

“Well, isn’t that nice.”

“Mack thought so.”

“I bet he looked too cute for words.”

“Yes.” Rupert stepped back with a grimace as if he’d had a sudden twinge of pain. “When you’ve finished eating, I’d like to have a talk with you, Gerda. I’ll be in the den.”

The talk turned out to be quite simple. She was fired. No reflection cast on her abilities, of course. A matter of simple economics. Mrs. Kellogg would be away in the East indefinitely, and it just wasn’t feasible to keep Gerda on. He made a lot of nice remarks about her efficiency and cooperation and so on, but it all amounted to one thing: she was fired. A month’s wages in lieu of notice and the best of references, which Miss Burton would type up and have waiting for her at the office. Good-bye and good luck.

Gerda said, “You mean you want me to leave right away?”

“Yes.”

“Right now tonight?”

“It might be simpler that way,” Rupert said, “since you haven’t unpacked yet. I’ll drive you wherever you want to go.”

“I got no place to go.”

“There are hotels. And the Y.W.C.A.”

Gerda thought of the warm, cozy evenings in front of her television set, now suddenly to be replaced by cold, deadly ones in the lobby of the Y.W.C.A. with a lot of other women as dull as herself. Resentment stabbed her eyes until they bled tears.

“Now, Gerda,” Rupert said uneasily. “You mustn’t cry. This isn’t actually a personal matter.”

“It’s personal to me!”

“I’m sorry. I wish — well, we all wish things could be different.”

“This is a terrible home-coming.”

“There have been worse,” Rupert said, remembering his own.

“What about the TV set?”

“That belongs to you. I’ll have a man come to disconnect it and deliver it to you when you get settled.”

“If I get settled.”

“I’m sure you’ll have no difficulty finding another job, one you’ll enjoy more. Things would be pretty dull for you around here without Mrs. Kellogg and Mack. I suggest you try an employment agency.”

Gerda sniffed. She didn’t like employment agencies and the snippy way they asked questions and pretended that jobs were scarce just to make themselves look good when they got you one. “I think I’ll call the Brandons.”

“Who?”

“The Brandons, Mrs. Kellogg’s brother and his wife. They got that big place to keep up in Atherton and many’s the time I’ve heard her complain how she couldn’t get decent help.”

He didn’t say anything. He just kept staring at her as if he thought she’d lost her mind.

Flushing, Gerda said, “Maybe you think I wouldn’t fit into such a fancy place, me and my country ways, is that what you’re thinking? Well, let me tell you I heard Mrs. Brandon with my own ears call me a jewel. That was no more than three months ago, and if I was a jewel three months ago I guess I’m a jewel right here and now.”

“Of course. Of course you are,” Rupert said, and he kept his voice very quiet because he felt like screaming. “I happen to know, however, that Mrs. Brandon has a complete staff at the moment.”

“That’s not saying she will have tomorrow or next week, things being like they are in this world.”

“You might not like living on the Peninsula.”

“The climate’s nice. All this fog in the city is hard on my bronchial tubes. That’s my weakest spot.”

“The Brandons have three children. They’re very noisy.”

“A little noise won’t hurt me none.” She turned to leave. “Well, I better go find some cartons so I can pack the rest of my stuff.”

“Gerda. Wait.”

She looked back, surprised at the urgency in his voice. “Yes sir?”

“I’ll call Mrs. Brandon, if you like, and ask her if she has an opening and what salary she’s prepared to pay and so on.”

“I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all.”

“Well, that’s real kind of you, Mr. Kellogg. I’m much obliged, I’m sure,”

“I might as well call now, while you’re still here, and get the matter settled.” He gave her a dry little smile. “You may even enjoy working at the Brandons. Everyone to his taste.”

While she was in her room packing the rest of her things she could hear him talking on the main phone in the kitchen. His voice was very loud and distinct, and she wondered if Helene Brandon was possibly getting a little deaf.

“Helene? This is Rupert... Fine. And you?... Glad to hear it... Oh, she’s having a great time, seeing every play in New York. Helene, the reason I called is Gerda. She returned from her vacation tonight, and I had to tell her that I couldn’t afford to keep her on. She’s first-rate at her job, as you know... A jewel. Yes, she remembered that you called her that when you were talking to Amy some time ago... I can’t help it if Amy will be mad. It’s a matter of simple economics... I can eat most of my meals in restaurants and hire a cleaning woman once a week. To get back to the subject of Gerda...”

Gerda, the jewel, fought a brief brisk battle with Gerda, the woman. The woman emerged victorious and tiptoed down the hall to the extension telephone in the master bedroom. She had no need to lift the receiver to hear Rupert; his voice veritably boomed from the kitchen. Mrs. Brandon must certainly be getting deaf. Or perhaps she always had been and covered it up by lip reading.

Gerda’s hand, slowed by guilt, reached for the telephone. I really shouldn’t. I’m a jewel...

“I thought it would be nice if we kept Gerda in the family, as it were... I realize you don’t need anyone right now, Helene... Frankly, I think you’d be missing an excellent opportunity if you didn’t snap her up. Her qualifications are most unusual, you know that for yourself. I think she’d be good with the children, too... Of course, if you haven’t a place for her, you haven’t...”

Meticulous as a surgeon, Gerda lifted the receiver. The dial tone buzzed in her ear. For a second she thought that Mrs. Brandon had, in sudden pique or boredom, hung up. Then she heard Rupert’s voice again from the kitchen: “Naturally she’ll be disappointed. So am I. But we can’t ask you to do the impossible, Helene... Yes, I’ll tell her to try you again in a few months. Goodbye, Helene.”