King Cole (9 page)

Gregg groaned.

“Goodnight!” he cried. Then he turned and walked back into the living-room.

Read and Kitten went out and took the automatic elevator. The lobby was dark and deserted; they saw the night clerk dozing in a little room behind the office. When Read opened the big front door, Kitten gasped and drew back. The wind was blowing hard and it was very cold. The sky had been swept clean of all clouds; the stars glittered brilliantly and coldly in the soft black night.

“Oh, I can hardly get my breath.”

Barney was sleeping, huddled up against the steering wheel. Read woke him.

“Excuse me, Governor. I…” Then he saw the girl. His mouth dropped open; he recovered, and got out to open the door.

“Gee, what a nice car,” said Kitten.

“What’s your address?” Read asked, not looking at Barney.

“Four-o-five North Wilton.”

They got in. Barney closed the door, looking at the girl out of the corner of his eye.

When Barney drove off, the girl got up very close to Read and said:

“Just like a dream. There I was, tired as I could be, and all I could think about was going home and getting to bed. Gee, I didn’t want to go with Mr. Upham. I didn’t trust him. But, anyway, I can take care of myself. I got to, working around a hotel with all them wise traveling salesmen. But I’m glad I went. I never would have met you.”

“Oh, it’s nothing meeting me.” Read was enjoying this; he wanted more.

“Think not? Why, any girl I know would give five years of her life to be sitting here like this. Gee, I almost dropped over that day in the Massey when I found out who you were. I liked you before I found out. You just kind of walked up sort of important and I said to myself: ‘I’ll bet he’s a big shot.’ And then when I found out… gee, I almost dropped over.”

“And asked for an autograph for your little brother.”

“Did I? I was all excited. I haven’t got any little brother. I just wanted it for myself, I guess.”

Read laughed. He took the girl’s hand and sat holding it. She got closer to him.

“You know,” she said, “a couple of my girlfriends were over to my room the other morning and one of them got to telling fortunes with cards, and she told me something pretty important was going to happen to me.”

“You believe in fortunetelling?”

“Oh, sure. I’ve seen it come out right time after time. Like the time my sister lost her garnet ring… that was in Detroit. Anyway, she found it.”

“Does your sister live here?”

“No, I’m all alone. I mean, no relatives. I live with a girlfriend. Maude Anderson. She’s tall and I’m short. They call us Mutt and Jeff, people do. She’s a good kid. But she has acne.”

“She has what?”

“Acne. You know, pimples on her face. It’s awful. I feel sorry for her. Boys don’t like her. She’s got a real nice boyfriend now though. He’s got acne, too, so it’s all right. He works in a garage. You ought to see him drive a car. Boy, he can make one do tricks. What kind of car is this?”

“A Cadillac.”

“Really? First time I’ve ever ridden in one. But I’ve ridden in a Pierce. Boy I used to know had one. That’s all he had.” She laughed.

“How old are you, Kitten?”

“Twenty-four; nearly twenty-five.”

“You don’t look it.”

“I know. My father was the same. He didn’t look thirty when he died and he was almost fifty.”

Of a sudden Read became sharply aware of her presence; a delicate scent rose from her hair; he felt her warmth through her thick coat. He drew away slightly and sat staring out at the housefronts they were passing. This was silly!

“Why so silent? Cat got your tongue? Gee, it’s nice and cozy and warm in here.” She sat up and looked out. “Oh, we’re almost there.”

When she sank back Read put his arm around her. She didn’t seem to notice. After a moment, she put her head on his shoulder. Read glanced uncomfortably at Barney’s broad back, wondering if he could see what was going on in the rear-view mirror.

“Are you going to be elected?” asked Kitten.

“I hope so.”

“I’m going to vote for you, but everybody I know is going to vote for Mr. Fielding. Dewey says he’s a great man. Dewey is Maude’s boyfriend. I saw Mr. Fielding in the hotel the other day. Isn’t he a funny old man? He called me ‘sister’ and he tipped me a dime.”

Bending down quickly, Read kissed her. Her lips were soft and cool and unresponsive.

“You shouldn’t do that,” she said, dispassionately.

“Why?”

“’Cause you shouldn’t.”

Read kissed her again. Her arms tightened; her lips were warm now; she returned his kiss.

“Really you shouldn’t. Here you go, getting me kind of crazy about you, and I’ll probably never see you again. Oh, my; you smell of alcohol. Why do you drink? I never drink. I hate drinking. A girl’s a fool to drink with men. That’s the way a lot of them get into jams.”

“I don’t drink much.”

They were kissing again. She began lightly to caress his face with her fingertips. Suddenly she drew away and sat up.

“Here we are. Third house on the right. I live on the third floor. It’s kind of a dump, but what can I do? Gee, I was out of work for two months. Was I broke! I got to go, Governor.”

Read was heated now. He drew her back for another kiss. Barney drove slowly along the curb, looking for the number; finally, he got out his flashlight. Presently, he stopped the car.

The girl pulled away, laughing a little.

“Don’t you ever let yourself get broke again,” said Read, feeling very magnanimous. “You don’t need to worry about money. Just let me know.”

The girl sat up abruptly.

“You and Mr. Upham have got the wrong idea about me. I’m not that way.”

“What way?”

“Well, you know. I do need money. Who doesn’t? But I won’t make it that way.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Read, sharply. “I didn’t mean that.” He dropped his hands and moved back from the girl.

“Oh, excuse me,” she said in a very contrite voice. “Are you sore? Please don’t be sore. This has been just like a dream to me.”

Read relented.

“Maybe I didn’t put it in the right way. I mean, don’t worry about being broke. If you get broke, I’ll be glad to help you. You could pay it back.” Read felt that he was behaving like a fool; and it was a rather unusual feeling for him, as he had always managed his life so carefully. Let the girl go. Forget her. She was such an ordinary little girl.

Kitten took his face between her hands and kissed him.

“There! That’s for being so sweet. Please don’t be sore. If you knew what I’ve got to put up with all the time. Them dirty clucks at the hotel! I could be on Easy Street to hear them tell it. But they really think I ought to give them a good time for a pair of stockings or a new hat.”

Read winced. He was just like the rest. Why try to pretend otherwise?

“I’m not like that,” he said.

“No, I don’t think you are. All the same you’d like a good time, I think.”

Read flushed.

“Naturally.”

Barney hesitated, then opened the door. Read’s lips tightened. Was Barney trying to look after him, too?

“Oh, thanks,” said Kitten, as Barney helped her out.

Read got out also. He walked up to the old dark ramshackle frame house with the girl. They kissed in the shadow of the porch. Kitten was warm and clinging, but Read suddenly let her go. The gin was beginning to wear off; he felt very tired and very much ashamed of himself.

“Well, I’m going.”

Kitten clung to his hand.

“Will I see you again? Don’t answer. I know I won’t. But I’m going to pretend.”

Read turned and walked toward the car. He heard Kitten sob, then she ran across the porch and into the house.

Barney was holding the door open.

“Some things are confidential,” said Read.

Barney seemed offended.

“You don’t have to tell me, Governor.”

It was after four when Read got home. The house was dark and silent. He went to his room, took off his shoes, coat and vest, and lay down outside the covers. Gradually, he drifted into sleep.

That morning Read felt better than he had expected to, and after he had eaten, he went into the library and in less than an hour had written a complete outline of his Memorial Hall speech. Smiling with satisfaction, he suddenly thought about Kitten. A pleasant glow stole all through him. He felt young, alert, vital; able to cope with the difficulties ahead of him. “I must see her today,” he told himself; then laughing, he went on: “You idiot! Doesn’t it occur to you that you’re the Governor and that you’re trying to get re-elected and that Kitten is a silly little girl, none too fastidious!” He thought about Eileen vaguely, and quickly dismissed her from his mind. Boyle came in with a letter on a tray.

“Special delivery, Governor.”

Read took the letter. Boyle went out. Read tore open the envelope without looking at it and began to read the letter with half his mind. Then he started, turned, looked for a chair, and sat down. The letter was from the Commandant of Cadets at Benton Academy. Johnny was in some kind of trouble.

Dear Governor:

It is my painful duty to let you know that your son, John Cole, together with three others boys, has been guilty of several serious infractions of the rules. He has been sentenced to quarters till his case is disposed of.

As you know, we have local option in our town. As a protection to our students, liquor cannot be obtained here. Nevertheless, your son and his friends managed somehow to obtain several quarts of whiskey and they became intoxicated and created a vulgar disturbance on the streets of our little town.

This is not the worst of it. They also gave liquor to two waitresses who work in a local restaurant. Then they took these two miserable girls over into a cornfield near the Athletic Field, where they raised such a disturbance that the local constable was summoned by some of the neighbors. The boys ran away but the girls were arrested and taken to jail, where they spent the night.

No one in town can or will identify the boys and of course the constable does not know which of our boys it was. Out of deference to yourself, remembering how much we all owe you, these identities will never be publicly divulged.

However, our main problem is to discover where our boys bought this liquor. This we must find out. None of the boys will tell. They are stubborn and very sullen, especially your son. One of our cadet officers reported the boys for drunkenness on the streets of the town. That is how we know about them.

Governor, could you persuade your son to tell us where the liquor was bought? Otherwise I’m afraid we will have to suspend him indefinitely, as he is very defiant.

Hoping to receive a favorable reply at your earliest convenience, I am,

Respectfully yours,

Lester Davies

Commandant of Cadets

Read was a little shocked and read the letter over several times. It was the first serious trouble that Johnny had ever got into. Read did not know what to think. Johnny had always seemed so remote from carousing. Imagine him getting drunk and taking waitresses over into a cornfield! Suddenly Read smiled; then he went to the phone, and called his office.

“Miss Wilson?”

“Yes, Governor.”

“Send the Commandant of Cadets at Benton Academy a telegram stating that I’ll be there Sunday afternoon at three o’clock.”

“Yes, Governor. Were simply swamped with mail today. Mr. Parrott is helping me. I did so want to see the football game.”

“Don’t worry,” said Read. “We’ll all see the football game.”

While Read was putting on his coat in the hall, Jean ran down the stairs. She had on a sweater and slacks, and Read was very well satisfied with her appearance. It was nice to have such a good-looking daughter. For that matter, both his children were above the average in looks. He felt very proud of them in spite of the fact that neither of them resembled him in the least. Jean was her mother all over again; Johnny was a stray. Johnny looked like Johnny; he was unique, and in more ways than one, Read conceded, smiling to himself.

A little preoccupied, Read nodded to Jean, who glanced at him, shrugged slightly, then went into the dining-room without a word. For a moment, Read thought nothing of Jean’s strange behavior; he was thinking about his wife, Evelyn. She had died in the winter of 1928, during the flu epidemic. He had been stunned, and for over two years he had just barely managed to hold himself together. He shuddered even now, thinking how dark, unfriendly and barren the world had seemed to him. It was snowing the day Evelyn was buried; for weeks Read could see the heavy flakes falling down endlessly out of a slaty sky onto that lonely grave. He knew that his youth had been buried with his wife. He was a different man now; all the bounce was out of him. He was at loose ends. His children were growing up fast, blindly pursuing their own interests with all the unthinking but ruthless selfishness of youth. There was Gregg: he remained. It seemed a terrible thing that in forty-three years a man could find but one friend; yet it was true. No, he had lost his anchor when he lost Evelyn. She had married him when he didn’t have a dime, and few prospects. In spite of the fact that she was impulsive and at times muddleheaded, she had, during important crises in his life, advised him well. In his twenties he had been both conceited and rebellious; she had laughed him out of his conceit and talked him out of his habit of standing in his own light. Now he ran after shadows.

“Oh, very well,” came Jean’s voice high and shrill. “If we haven’t got it, we haven’t got it. But it seems to me…”

Read started. Something was wrong with Jean! He went into the dining-room. Jean was very angry, tossing her head; Boyle was bending toward her placatingly, his kind black face showing exaggerated concern.

“What’s wrong here?” Read demanded.

“Oh, you’re back,’’ said Jean, shrugging.

“I haven’t gone yet. What’s wrong, Boyle?”

“We haven’t got none of the breakfast food Miss Jean likes. They said they was going to deliver it this morning, but they never, Governor.”

“Too bad, Jean.”

“Oh, well. I’ll take that awful old oatmeal, then.” Read took off his coat and sat down.