Calico Palace (58 page)

Marny finished her sherry and began her dinner. The food tasted better than it looked, but not much better. However, she felt in good spirits. The Calico Palace was on the way up. Dwight Carson was an agreeable fellow. She was going to move out of here tomorrow, she was almost sure of it now, and move into the Gresham Hotel. When she had finished the beef and potatoes, and washed the plate so it would have no attraction for rats, she took out the pack of cards Bruno had brought her yesterday and laid them out on her sewing table to tell her fortune. The cards promised a rosy future concerning a large building and a man with light hair.

She slept well and woke in a cheerful mood. The morning was white with fog, and the water in her pitcher was so cold that she wished she had never formed the habit of washing. Fortunately she could get warm in the stockroom. The boys made a fire in the stove as soon as they came to work, and they always put on a pot of coffee. Carrying a tin box holding dried Oregon pears, which she had bought from Foxy yesterday, she went down.

There was nobody in the stockroom except two clerks whose names she did not know, noisily knocking open some boxes of goods. The pot was steaming on the stove. When she had breakfasted on coffee and dried pears, Marny brought her sewing and took her place by the window, to be out of the way when Mr. Chase arrived. She laughed to herself as she thought how happy Mr. Chase would be when he found she was about to remove her naughty presence from his domain.

The door from the salesroom opened and Marny looked up to see Foxy. He ambled over to where she sat.

“Morning, Marny,” he said.

She smiled a greeting. “Good morning. How was the circus?”

“Circus?” echoed Foxy. “Oh fair, pretty fair.” He lingered beside her, an earnest expression on his long toothy face. “Say, Marny.”

“Why yes, Foxy, what is it?”

Foxy stood first on one big foot and then on the other. “Marny, I’ve got something to tell you.”

Marny sighed tolerantly. From the look of him, his news was bad news. She had observed that people who liked to bring news liked it even better when the news was distressing. She remembered Foxy’s relish when he had told her about the death of Delbert, which had not distressed her in the least. “What is it, Foxy?” she asked.

“It’s about your friend—our friend,” said Foxy. “The fellow that works here. Loren Shields.”

With a start, Marny put down her sewing “Yes, Foxy? What about Loren?”

Fox spoke with gloomy importance. “He’s not doing well.”

“Why, Foxy!” she protested. “Ralph Watson said he was doing fine.”

“That’s what they thought,” said Foxy. He was sorry about Loren, but also he was enjoying his moment of eminence in being the first to tell her. “But not any more,” he went on. “Loren’s in a bad way, Marny.”

She wished she knew how much she could rely on his accuracy. Yesterday she had intended asking Dwight to walk up the hill with her so she could drop in to see Kendra and ask how Loren was. But they had stood so long on Kearny Street, talking about the Calico Palace, that before she knew it the dark was coming down and she had put off her visit.

“What do you mean by a ‘bad way,’ Foxy?” she asked. “Tell me.” Foxy told her. Early this morning, as they were about to get the day started, Ralph had come in to tell the boys he would not be at work today. He had to help Mrs. Shields.

Ralph said that about four o’clock this morning Loren had been wakened by a tearing pain in his side. Kendra, who slept on a cot at the foot of the bed, had rushed down to wake Ralph and send him for Dr. Rollins. She had been badly frightened, Ralph said. So had he been himself when he came back with the doctor and saw how Loren looked. Loren was haggard with the pain, and drops of cold sweat were running down his face. He was trying not to cry out but he could not help it. Ralph had gone to tell Mr. Chase, and Mr. and Mrs. Chase had come right over to see if they could give any help. Mr. Chase had not come to the store yet. “Loren’s in a bad way,” Foxy said again.

At this moment Mr. Fenway came in, and seeing Marny he walked over to her.

“An ugly business, this, about Loren,” he said sadly. Marny said it certainly was.

“Best man we ever had around here,” said Mr. Fenway. “Honest and dependable and a lot of good common sense.” For once, his sadness fitted the occasion. “Ugly business, this. Well, Foxy, I guess you and I had better get to work.”

Now that he had succeeded in being the first to tell the news, Foxy was willing to resume his normal occupations. He followed Mr. Fenway. Marny sat with her sewing in her lap, thinking about Loren. And Kendra.

Loren must be very sick if Ralph would not leave him to come to work. Ralph was serious about his duties. He would not have stayed away for a trivial reason. And Mr. Chase was not here either. It sounded as if Loren’s state was alarming.

That nail must have bitten deeper than they guessed. Maybe it was a dirty nail.

Was Loren sick enough to die?

Oh, of course not! He was a healthy young man, he would get well.

But suppose he did not get well?

Marny had never had any talent for believing what she knew wasn’t so. She knew that if Loren should die, it would not be a tragedy for Kendra. Kendra had married him in a time of shock and fear and loneliness, when Loren’s sturdy goodness had been a refuge. It was not an unhappy marriage. If they both lived to old age, Kendra would have had as happy a marriage as most people, maybe happier than most people. But while Loren was deeply in love with Kendra, Kendra was not deeply in love with Loren. She was fond of him. If Loren should die, she would miss him. That sturdy goodness of his was not something to be lightly lost. But she would get over it.

Marny took up her sewing again, to soothe her impatience by keeping her hands busy while she waited for Dwight. Shortly before noon he came in, hearty and happy, his cheeks bright red from the fog. Pulling off his gloves he grabbed her hands in his.

“Shall we go?” he asked her. “You’ll be surprised to see how much they’ve done already this morning.”

Marny said she would go with him as soon as she had wrapped up. But, she asked, would it be all right if they went to see Kendra first, so she could ask about Loren? She would stay only a few minutes, then they could go down to the plaza and take their time about watching the carpenters.

Of course, of course, said Dwight, anything she wanted. He was sorry about Loren. Dwight had heard of Loren’s injury but not of this turn for the worse. He hoped they would find that Foxy’s report had been exaggerated.

Marny and Dwight walked up the hill, Marny receiving her usual tribute of bows and greetings from the men she passed, Dwight haughtily seeing to it that none of them came too close. They went by the
Alta California
building, smoke-smudged but intact; and the library, where Pocket was probably on duty right now. A few steps farther, they came to the little white house where Kendra lived.

Looking up at the house, Marny stopped. She caught Dwight’s wrist in a frightened grasp. The fog around her was cold, but here she felt as if she had stepped into an even colder shadow.

The house looked closed, dark, withdrawn. The front shades were down. It looked like a place of sorrow.

Marny thought of the house as it had been the last time she had stood there. On the door the cluster of fir sprigs tied with red ribbon. More beribboned evergreens at every window. The glow of firelight and candles from within. She thought of their Christmas dinner, of Kendra at the piano, Hiram joyously singing—

“And God bless you and send you

A happy New Year.”

Only a week ago. Suddenly, she did not want Dwight going in with her. She said,

“Dwight, the fewer people around a sick man, the less noise to disturb him. Can’t you wait for me somewhere? You might drop into the library and look at the papers that came in by the steamer yesterday.”

Dwight was in a mood to please her. Besides, he was not a close friend of Loren’s. He had come here only because she wanted him to.

“Oh sure, sure,” he answered. “I’d like a look at the papers. And I’ll come back for you—how soon?”

“Half an hour?”

“All right.” Dwight glanced at the men going up and down the street and casting wishful looks at Marny. “I’ll stand here till you’re safe indoors, then I’ll walk down to the library.”

“Thanks.” Marny gave him a smile, went up the steps and knocked. She waited a moment, and knocked again. The voice of Mrs. Chase called from within.

“Who is it, please?”

“It’s Marny, Mrs. Chase.” She repeated, “Marny.”

“Oh yes,” said Mrs. Chase, and she opened the door. Tipping his hat, Dwight turned toward the library. “Come in,” Mrs. Chase said to Marny. She added, “Kendra’s in no state to see most people, but I think she’ll want to see you.”

Marny stepped inside and closed the door behind her. They stood together in the dim little hallway. Before them the stairs went up toward the landing and the room where Loren lay ill. The doors leading into the hall were closed, except the door to the parlor, and the only light in the hall was what little came in around the edges of the lowered shades at the parlor windows. But even in the dimness Marny could see that Mrs. Chase’s kindly face was drawn with grief and pity. In a low voice Marny said,

“I came to ask about Loren, Mrs. Chase.”

Mrs. Chase somberly shook her head. “The doctor’s doing all he can,” she replied. Her voice too was very low. “But it looks like that nail tore something inside of him. I don’t know enough to say what it might be.”

Marny did not know enough either. She said, “Then it’s true, what I was told—Loren is very ill indeed?”

Mrs. Chase nodded. Her lips were pressed together like lips trying to hold back a sob. Marny was surprised at such deep emotion. She had known that Mr. and Mrs. Chase thought highly of Loren, but she had not known Mrs. Chase cared for him as much as this. She asked,

“And how is Kendra?”

“Brave,” Mrs. Chase answered almost under her breath. “Brave. Braver than anybody I ever knew. But”—she made a quick gesture across her eyes—“it’s too much for her, Marny, too much. She’s already worn out. One thing on top of another.”

Marny gave a start. “What do you mean by ‘another,’ Mrs. Chase? Is something else wrong, besides Loren?”

Mrs. Chase gave her a long look. Her chin quivered as if she were trying to speak and could not. Again she nodded, dumbly.

Marny’s hand closed on Mrs. Chase’s plump elbow. “What
is
it, Mrs. Chase? Why do you look at me like that? Mrs. Chase, what has
happened
?”

Tremors of fright ran through her as she waited for an answer. Mrs. Chase wet her lips. Tears came into her eyes. At length she managed to speak.

“Marny—I guess it’s all right to tell you.”

She caught Marny’s hands and held them as she began to talk. Now that she was talking, the words poured out of her in a feverish torrent. She repeated,

“I guess it’s all right to tell you. We didn’t know. Nobody knew. We didn’t know till we came over here this morning. Kendra had told Ralph and Serena not to say anything to anybody. She was afraid somebody might tell Loren and she didn’t want him to know. She didn’t know then how sick he was, nobody knew, but he was sick and in pain and she said why trouble him and make it harder? She told Ralph not to talk about it at the store because those boys blab so, the word might get back to Loren. She wouldn’t even tell my husband. He stopped in two or three times to speak to Loren, and Loren seemed like he was doing pretty well—weak, of course, but pretty well—but he didn’t know and my husband didn’t know. But today, of course, we know. My husband has gone on down to the store because there wasn’t anything he could, do here, but before he left he promised Kendra he wouldn’t say a word to anybody there. But now you’ve come to see her, and she’s so fond of you, she’d tell you if I didn’t, she knows you wouldn’t let it out to Loren—”

Marny was trembling with impatience. “Mrs. Chase, what are you
talking
about?” she pled. “Say it, won’t you?”

“I’ve been trying to say it but it’s so hard to say,” murmured Mrs. Chase. Tears came into her eyes again. She blinked them back, and looked up. Speaking with an effort, she said, “Marny, it’s the baby.”

Marny’s breath caught in her throat. She gasped, “The baby!”

“Sh! Don’t say it out loud, Loren might hear. Though I don’t think he can, they keep his door closed all the time—”

“For the love of God,” Marny begged, “tell me! What about the baby?”

Mrs. Chase steadied herself. “He caught cold that night,” she answered. “It didn’t show up till after daylight, after they had brought Loren home. It seemed like just a little cold. But it got worse. Now he can’t breathe right. He’s burning up with fever. The doctor has tried and tried but he can’t do anything.”

“And Loren,” Marny said in a half whisper, “doesn’t even know the baby is sick?”

Mrs. Chase shook her head. “They had moved the crib downstairs, so Loren and the baby wouldn’t disturb each other. When they found the baby had a cold, Kendra didn’t tell Loren. She thought Junior would be all right in a day or two, and Loren was hurt already, so she said why worry him? When Loren asked how Junior was, Kendra said he was fine. Loren said he’d like to see him and Kendra said she couldn’t bring him up to the bedroom. She said the weather was so cold and damp, the doctor had told her not to take the baby out of his warm crib and carry him up these drafty stairs. Loren said this was right, keep him warm. Every day after that the baby has been getting worse, and every day she’s kept smiling and telling Loren he was fine. But he’s not. I saw him this morning.”

Mrs. Chase’s voice broke. The tears crept down her rosy cheeks as she said,

“Marny, that baby is
sick.
And Kendra knows it. Only a month old, and they’re so weak and helpless when they’re that little. Marny—I don’t know about Loren but I think the baby is going to die.”

T
REMBLING WITH SHOCK AND
pity, Marny held to the balustrade of the staircase. She remembered Loren’s joy when he came into the Calico Palace to tell her his son was born. She thought of her first visit to Kendra after that. And of Kendra saying, “I’m so happy about him! I didn’t know, I never dreamed, how much a baby makes up for.”