Garden of Eden (4 page)

The
young man borrowed a pencil from the waiter and commenced to multiply $2.50 by
one thousand. That was easy. Ten percent of that was two hundred and fifty
dollars. Five times that was twelve hundred and fifty dollars. Deduct seven
hundred and fifty dollars for the advance. That left five hundred dollars
earned by the first printing.

Now
there was the second printing. Say that was two thousand. That was twelve and a
half percent of five thousand dollars. If that was how the contract was. That
would be six hundred and twenty-five dollars. But maybe it did not go up to
twelve and a half percent until ten thousand. Well it was still five hundred
dollars. That would still leave a thousand.

He
started to read the reviews and found that he had drunk the vermouth without
ever noticing it. He ordered another and returned the pencil to the waiter. He
was still reading the reviews when the girl came in bringing her heavy envelope
of letters. "I didn't know they'd come," she said. "Let me see
them. Please let me see them." The waiter brought her a vermouth and
putting it down saw the picture as the girl unfolded a clipping. "C'est
Monsieur?" he asked. "Yes it is," the girl said and held it up
for him to see. "But differently dressed," the waiter said. "Do
they write about the marriage? May I see a picture of Madame?" "Not
about the marriage. Criticisms of a book by Monsieur."
"Magnificent," said the waiter who was deeply moved. "Is Madame
also a writer?" "No," the girl said not looking up from the
clippings. "Madame is a housewife." The waiter laughed proudly.
"Madame is probably in the cinema." They both read clippings and then
the girl put the one she was reading down and said, "I'm frightened by
them and all the things they say. How can we be us and have the things we have
and do what we do and you be this that's in the clippings?" "I've had
them before," the young man said. "They're bad for you but it doesn't
last." "They're terrible," she said. "They could destroy
you if you thought about them or believed them. You don't think I married you
because you are what they say you are in these clippings do you?"
"No. I want to read them and then we'll seal them up in the envelope."
"I know you have to read them. I don't want to be stupid about them. But
even in an envelope it's awful to have them with us. It's like bringing along
somebody's ashes in a jar."

"Plenty
of people would be happy if their damned husbands had good reviews."

"I'm
not plenty of people and you're not my damned husband. Please let's not
fight."

"We
won't. You read them and if there's anything good you tell me and if they say
anything about the book that's intelligent that we don't know you tell me. The
book's made some money already," he told her.

"That's
wonderful. I'm so glad. But we know it's good. If the reviews had said it was
worthless and it never made a cent I would have been just as proud and just as
happy."

I
wouldn't, the young man thought. But he did not say it. He went on reading the
reviews, unfolding them and folding them up again and putting them back in the
envelope. The girl sat opening envelopes and reading her letters without
interest. Then she looked out of the cafe at the sea. Her face was a dark gold
brown and she had brushed her hair straight back from her forehead the way the
sea had pulled it when she had come out of the water and where it was cropped
close and on her cheeks the sun had burned it to white gold against the brown
of her skin. She looked out at the sea and her eyes were very sad. Then she
went back to opening letters. There was one long typewritten one that she read
with concentration. Then she went on opening and reading the other letters. The
young man looked at her and thought she looked a little as though she were
shelling peas.

"What
was in the letters?" the young man asked.

"There
were checks in some."

"Big
ones?"

"Two."

"That's
fine," he said.

"Don't
go away like that. You always said it never made any difference."

"Have
I said anything?"

"No.
You just went away.

"I'm
sorry," he said. "How big are they?"

"Not
much really. But good for us. They've been deposited. It's because I'm married.
I told you it was the best thing for us to be married. I know it doesn't mean
anything as capital but this is spendable. We can spend it and it doesn't hurt
anybody and it's for that. It doesn't have anything to do with regular income
nor what I get if I live to be twenty-five or if I ever live to be thirty. This
is ours for anything we want to do. Neither of us will have to worry about
balances for a while. It's that simple."

"The
book has paid back the advance and made about a thousand dollars," he
said.

"Isn't
that awfully good when it's only just come out?"

"It's
all right. Should we have another one of these?" he asked.

"Let's
drink something else."

"How
much vermouth did you drink?"

"Only
the one. I must say it was dull."

"I
drank two and didn't even taste them."

"What
is there that's real?" she said.

"Did
you ever drink Armagnac and soda? That's real enough."

"Good.
Let's try that."

The
waiter brought the Armagnac and the young man told him to bring a cold bottle
of Perrier water instead of the syphon. The waiter poured two large Armagnacs
and the young man put ice in the big glasses and poured in the Perrier.

"This
will fix us," he said. "It's a hell of a thing to drink before lunch
though."

The
girl took a long sip. "It's good," she said. "It has a fresh
clean healthy ugly taste." She took another long sip. "I can really
feel it. Can you?"

"Yes,"
he said and took a deep breath. "I can feel it."

She
drank from the glass again and smiled and the laugh wrinkles came at the corner
of her eyes. The cold Perrier had made the heavy brandy alive.

"For
heroes," he said.

"I
don't mind being a hero," she said. "We're not like other people. We
don't have to call each other darling or my dear or my love nor any of that to
make a point. Darling and my dearest and my very dearest and all that are
obscene to me and we call each other by our Christian names. You know what I'm
trying to say. Why do we have to do other things like everyone does?"

"You're
a very intelligent girl."

"All
right Davie," she said. "Why do we have to be stuffy? Why don't we
keep on and travel now when it can never be more fun? We'll do everything you
want. If you'd been a European with a lawyer my money would have been yours any
way. It is yours."

"The
hell with it."

"All
right. The hell with it. But we'll spend it and I think it's wonderful. You can
write afterwards. That way we can have the fun before I have a baby for one
thing. How do I know when I'll have a baby even? Now it's all getting dull and
dusty talking about it. Can't we just do it and not talk about it?"

"What
if I want to write? The minute you're not going to do something it will
probably make you want to do it."

"Then
write, stupid. You didn't say you wouldn't write. Nobody said anything about
worrying if you wrote. Did they?"

But
somewhere something had been said and now he could not remember it because he
had been thinking ahead.

"If
you want to write go ahead and I'll amuse myself. I don't have to leave you
when you write do I?"

"But
where would you like us to go now when people begin to come here?"

"Anywhere
you want to go. Will you do it, David?"

"For
how long?"

"For
as long as we want. Six months. Nine months. A year."

"All
right," he said.

"Really?"
"Sure. "You're awfully good. If I didn't love you for anything else
I'd love you for decisions." "They're easy to make when you haven't
seen how too many of them can turn out." He drank the hero drink but it
did not taste so good and he ordered a fresh bottle of cold Perrier and made a
short drink without ice. "Make me one please. Short like yours. And then
let's let it start and have lunch."

THAT
NIGHT IN BED when they were still awake she said in the dark, "We don't
always have to do the devil things either. Please know that."

"I
know."

"I
love it the way we were before and I'm always your girl. Don't ever be lonely.
You know that. I'm how you want but I'm how I want too and it isn't as though
it wasn't for us both. You don't have to talk. I'm only telling a story to put
you to sleep because you're my good lovely husband and my brother too. I love
you and when we go to Africa I'll be your African girl too."

"Are
we going to Africa?"

"Aren't
we? Don't you remember? That was what it was about today. So we could go there
or anywhere. Isn't that where we're going?"

"Why
didn't you say it?"

"I
didn't want to interfere. I said wherever you wanted. I'd go anywhere. But I
thought that was where you wanted."

"It's
too early to go to Africa now. It's the big rains and after wards the grass is
too high and it's very cold." "We could go to bed and keep warm and
hear the rain on a tin roof." "No, it's too early. The roads turn to
mud and you can't get around and everything is like a swamp and the grass gets
so tall you cans t see. "Then where should we go?" "We can go to
Spain but Sevilla is over and so is San Isidro in Madrid and it's early for
there too. It's too early for the Basque coast. It's still cold and rainy. It
rains everywhere there now." "Isn't there a hot part where we could
swim the way we do here?" 'You can't swim in Spain the way we do here.
You'd get arrested." "What a bore. Let's wait to go there then
because I want us to get darker." "Why do you want to be so
dark?" "I don't know. Why do you want anything? Right now it's the
thing that I want most. That we don't have I mean. Doesn't it make you excited
to have me getting so dark?" "Uh-huh. I love it. "Did you think
I could ever be this dark?" "No, because you're blond." "I
can because I'm lion color and they can go dark. But I want every part of me
dark and it's getting that way and you'll be darker than an Indian and that
takes us further away from other people. You see why it's important."
"What will we be?" "I don't know. Maybe we'll just be us. Only
changed. That's maybe the best thing. And we will keep on won't we?"
"Sure. We can go over by the Estérel and explore and find another place
the way we found this one. "We can do that. There are lots of wild places
and nobody is there in the summer. We could get a car and then we could go
everywhere. Spain too when we want. Once we're really dark it won't be hard to
keep unless we had to live in towns. We don't want to be in towns in the
summer.

"How
dark are you going to get?"

"As
dark as I can. We'll have to see. I wish I had some Indian blood. I'm going to
be so dark you won't be able to stand it. I can't wait to go up on the beach tomorrow."

She
went to sleep that way with her head back and her chin up as though she were in
the sun on the beach, breathing softly, and then she curled toward him on her
side and the young man lay awake and thought about the day. It is very possible
that I couldn't get started, he thought, and it probably is sound to not think
about it at all and just enjoy what we have. When I have to work I will.
Nothing can stop that. The last book is good and I must make a better one now.
This nonsense that we do is fun although I don't know how much of it is
nonsense and how much is serious. Drinking brandy at noon is no damn good and
already the simple aperitifs mean nothing. That is not a good sign. She changes
from a girl into a boy and back to a girl carelessly and happily. She sleeps
easily and beautifully and you will sleep too because all you truly know is
that you feel good. You did not sell anything for the money, he thought.
Everything she said about the money was true. Actually it all was true.
Everything was free for a time.