The Carpetbaggers

5

It was quiet here in the nave of the church. Ellen Denton, on her knees before the holy statuary, her head bowed and her beads threaded through her clasped fingers, was at peace. There was no prayer on her lips, no disturbing thoughts in her mind – only a calm, delicious emptiness. It permeated her whole being and closed off the world, beyond the comforting walls.

The sins of omission, which plagued her hours while she was outside these walls, were but faint distant echoes. Little Tommy lay quiet in his grave, no reproach on his tiny rosebud lips, for her neglect during his illness. No memories rose to torture her of her white, naked body, writhing in passion and pleasure, while her son lay dying in the same room.

It had seemed just a tiny cold, a cold such as children have so often and awaken free from in the morning. How was she to know that while she lay there, whispering her delight into her husband's ear, a minute piece of phlegm had lodged in her son's throat, shutting off the air from his lungs? So that, when she got up to adjust his covers, as she usually did before she closed her eyes for the night, she found him strangely cold and already blue. How was she to know that this was to be her punishment for her own sins?

Father Hadley had tried to comfort her in her grief. "Do not blame yourself, my child. The Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away. His will be done."

But she'd known better. The memory of her joy in her sin was still too strong within her, though she sought to free her soul of its burden by a thousand visits to the confessional. But all the soothing words of the priests brought no solace to her soul. Her guilt was her own and only she, herself, could expunge it. But here, in the quiet peace of the nave, beneath the silent, sorrowing Virgin, there was calmness and emptiness and oblivion.

Johnny Burke was bored. He took a last drag on the butt and spun it out into the gutter. The pimply-faced boy next to him said, "Let's go over and see if Tessie is busy."

"Tessie is always busy. Besides, I hear she give a feller a dose. I ain't takin' any chances." Johnny took out another cigarette and lit it, his eyes nervously looking up the street. "Just for once, I'd like to get me a dame that nobody else has banged."

"How yuh goin' do that, Johnny?"

"There are ways, Andy," Johnny said mysteriously. "There are ways."

Andy looked at him interestedly. "You talk like yuh know."

Johnny nodded. He tapped his pocket. "I got a little somethin' in here that'll make any girl put out."

"Yeah, Johnny?" Andy asked quickly. "What?"

Johnny lowered his voice carefully. "Mosca cantharides."

"What's that?"

"Spanish fly, yuh dope," Johnny said. "I stole some when Doc asked me to watch the store while he went upstairs."

"Gee," Andy said, impressed. "Will it work on any girl?"

Johnny nodded. "Sure. If yuh can slip it into her drink. Just a little an' she's as hot as a biscuit right out of the oven."

The druggist stuck his head out of the doorway. "Johnny, watch the store for me, will you? I want to run upstairs a minute."

"O.K., Doc."

They watched him turn into the entrance next door, then went into the drugstore. Johnny walked behind the counter and leaned carelessly against the cash register.

"How about a Coke, Johnny?"

"Uh-uh," Johnny said. "No handouts while I'm watchin' the store for Doc." Idly Johnny opened and closed some drawers under the counter. "Hey, Andy," he called. "Want to see where Doc keeps all the rubbers?"

"Sure," Andy said. He walked around behind the counter.

"May I have a Coke, please?"

The girl's voice came from the soda fountain. Both boys looked up guiltily. Quickly Johnny snapped the drawer shut. "Sure, Jennie."

"Where's Doc?"

"He went upstairs for a minute."

"She saw us," Andy whispered. "She knows what we were lookin' at."

Johnny looked at Jennie as he walked over to the soda fountain. Maybe she did. There was a peculiar smile on her face. He pressed the plunger on the Coke-sirup pump and watched the dark fluid squirt into the glass. "Yuh hear from the Champ yet, Jennie?"

She shook her head. "We were supposed to go to the movies tonight but he didn't get back from Berkeley. I hope nothing went wrong with his scholarship."

Johnny smiled. "What could go wrong with it?" he said. "He already took the state finals."

Andy came up behind him. "Will it work on her?" he whispered. Johnny knew what he meant. He looked up suddenly. All at once it seemed to him that he'd never really seen Jennie. She was one of the cherries and usually he paid no attention to them. She had left her Coke and was over looking at the magazines. He liked the way the thin summer dress clung to her. He never knew she had such big ones. No wonder Mike Halloran kept her on the leash. Suddenly, he put his hand in his pocket and took out the little piece of paper and emptied the pinch of powder into her glass.

Jennie took a magazine from the rack and went back to the fountain. Johnny looked down at her glass. Some traces of powder were still floating on top. He took it and put in another squirt of sirup, then held the glass under the soda spigot while he stirred vigorously. He put the drink down in front of her and looked up at the clock. "Kind of late for you to be out, isn't it?"

"It's Saturday night," Jennie answered. "It was so hot in the apartment, I thought I'd come down for some air." She put a nickel on the counter and took a straw from the glass container.

Johnny anxiously watched her sip the drink. "Is it all right?"

"A little sweet, maybe."

"I’ll put a little more soda in it," Johnny said quickly. "How's that?"

She sipped at it. "Fine now. Thanks."

He picked up the nickel, went back to the cash register and rang it up. "I saw what you did," Andy whispered.

"Shut up."

Jennie was turning the pages of the magazine slowly as she sipped her drink. Her glass was half empty when the druggist came back into the store. "Everything O.K., Johnny?"

"O.K., Doc."

"Thanks, Johnny. Want a Coke?"

"No, thanks, Doc. See you tomorrow."

"What did you go an' do that for?" Andy asked, when they came out onto the street. "Now we won't never know if it worked."

"We'll know," Johnny said, turning to look through the window.

Jennie had finished her drink and was climbing down from the stool. She put the magazine back on the rack and started for the door. Johnny moved over to intercept her.

"Going home, Jennie?"

She stopped and smiled at him. "I thought I'd go down to the park. Maybe there's a cool breeze coming in from the bay."

"Mind if we come along?" Johnny asked. "We're not doin' anything."

She wondered what made Johnny ask to walk with her all of a sudden. He'd never seemed interested in her before.

It was almost ten o'clock when Tom Denton came out of the saloon across from the car barn. He was drunk. Sad, weeping, unhappy drunk. He stared across the street at the car barn. Old Two-twelve was in there. His old car. But she wasn't his car any more. She'd never be his car any more. She was somebody else's car now.

The tears began to roll down his cheeks. He was a failure. No car, no job, not even a wife to come home to. Right now she was probably sitting in a corner of the church, praying.

Didn't she understand a man had to have more than a prayer when he got into bed? If he had a couple of dollars in his pocket, he knew where he'd go. The girls at Maggie's knew how to treat a man. He fished in his pocket for some coins. Carefully he counted them. Thirty-five cents. He thought about going back into the saloon. He had enough for one more drink. But then he'd have to ask Ellen for pocket money on Monday.

He felt the effects of the liquor beginning to wear off. Angrily he put the change back in his pocket. Drinking wasn't any fun when you had to worry about every nickel you spent. Almost sober now, he began to walk home slowly.

He was sitting at the kitchen table in the dark when Ellen came home half an hour later. He looked up wearily as she turned on the light. "I didn't expect ye home so early," she said. "What happened? Did they run out of whisky?"

He didn't answer.

She walked out of the kitchen into the narrow hallway. He heard her open Jennie's door, then close it. A moment later, she came back into the kitchen. "Where's Jennie?"

"I don't know. She's probably out with Mike."

"Mike is still in Berkeley. Jennie was here when I left for church. She said she was going to bed early."

"It's warm," he said. "She probably went out for a breath of air."

"I don't like her being out alone like that."

"Now, don't start on her, Ellen," he said. "She's a big girl now."

She took a kettle down from the shelf and filled it with water. She placed it on the stove and lit the gas under it. "Would ye like a cup of tea?"

He looked up in surprise. It had been a long time since Ellen asked him to share an evening cup of tea. He nodded gratefully.

She took the cups from the cupboard and placed them on the table. Then she sat down opposite him to wait for the water to boil. There was a worried expression on her face.

"Don't worry," he said, suddenly feeling sorry for her. "Jennie'll be home any minute now."

She looked up, and in a rare moment of insight, saw what she was doing to him and to herself. She felt the tears coming into her eyes and placed her hand over his. "I'm sorry, Tom. I don't know what's the matter with me. Half the time, I imagine things that never happen."

"I know, Ellen," he said gently. "I know."

It was then that the policeman came to the door and told them that Jennie had been found in the park, raped and beaten. And from the look on Ellen's face, Tom knew that they were lost forever.