Punish the Sinners (23 page)

   Geraldine Grane heard the front door slam, but went right on with her ironing. A moment later she glanced up to see her daughter come into the kitchen.

“You’re early,” she commented. Marilyn set her books down on tibe table and opened the refrigerator. “Don’t spoil your appetite” she heard her mother say.

She poked around the refrigerator, then decided that a carrot would do for a snack. She moved to the sink and began peeling the carrot into the disposai

“All the vitamins are in the peelings,” Geraldine said. “If you peel it, there isn’t any use in eating it”

Marilyn silently continued peeling the carrot, and wished her mother would leave her alone. Her wish was not granted.

“I was cleaning your room today,” Geraldine said tonelessly. Marilyn wondered if she was going to be criticized for not keeping it clean enough, or if it would be something else. It turned out to be something else.

“I found your history test,” Geraldine said in an accusing voice. “You might have shown it to me.”

“I didn’t want to,” Marilyn said.

“I can see why.” Her mother’s voice stabbed at Marilyn. “Since when do you get B-minuses?”

Marilyn threw the carrot into the sink. Suddenly she didn’t want it.

“It’s only one test, and not an important one,” she said defensively.

“One test?” Geraldine asked. “It may be only one test to you, but to me it says you aren’t trying hard enough.” She put down the iron, and turned to face her daughter. “I don’t know what to do with you, Marilyn. It seems like no matter what I want for you, it never works out.”

Marilyn was on the verge of tears. “It’s only one test, Mother,” she pleaded. “And it isn’t that bad a grade. Greta got worse grades than that all the time.”

Geraldine nodded. “Your sister didn’t go to college,” she said. “Greta got married.”

“Well, maybe I will too,” Marilyn blurted, regretting the words as soon as they’d been said. She had just opened a whole new can of worms, and she knew it

“You have to date before you get married,” Geraldine pointed out acidly. “And so far I don’t see you doing much in that department either.”

“All right,” Marilyn exclaimed. ‘I’m sorry, Mother! I’m sorry I’m not like Greta, I’m sorry I’m not popular, I’m sorry I’m a disappointment to you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Geraldine Crane sank down into one of the chairs by the kitchen table, and pulled Marilyn down into another. Suddenly she wished she hadn’t spoken so sharply to her daughter, and now she tried to make up for it.

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about” she said gently. “I’m really very proud of you. I just want you to be happy.” She paused a minute. “And you spend too much time in church,” she went on. “You’re too young to be spending all your time in church. Time enough for that when you’re older.”

“But I like it in church,” Marilyn said through the lump that was suddenly blocking her throat. She didn’t want to cry; she hoped she wasn’t going to. “Maybe I should go into a convent.”

“Don’t be silly,” her mother said. “That’s no kind of life for you. All you need to do is make some friends, and try to get out of yourself a bit. No wonder you’re not happy. If I spent as much time by myself as you do, I’d be miserable, too.”

Marilyn could no longer hold the sobs back, but neither could she let herself go in front of her mother. She felt too alone. Before her mother could stop her, she had fled from the kitchen. Geraldine Crane sat silently at the kitchen table and listened to her daughter pound
up the stairs. Then, though there was no one to see it, she shrugged helplessly and went back to her ironing. Bringing up Greta was so easy, she thought Why is it so difficult with Marilyn?

She picked up another of her husband’s shirts, and began pressing the sleeves, her mind on her daughter. The iron went back and forth over the same spot It wasn’t until she saw the brown of the scorch mark that Geraldine realized she was drifting, and put her mind resolutely back on the task at hand. It didn’t occur to her that the same kind of preoccupation that had just caused her to ruin the shirt might also have caused her daughter to get a B-minus on the history test

She heard Marilyn coming down the stairs a few minutes later, and wondered if she ought to call her into the kitchen and try to talk to her. But before she could make up her mind, Marilyn appeared at the door.

“I’m going to the hospital,” Marilyn said in a voice that left no room for argument

“The hospital?” Geraldine asked. “Whatever for?”

“I’m going to visit Judy Nelson,” Marilyn said in a voice that was almost defiant “If you want me to have friends, I guess visiting Judy is a good enough way to start.”

“But I thought you didn’t like Judy,” her mother said curiously. “I thought you didn’t like that whole group.”

“Judy wasn’t at the party,” Marilyn said sullenly. Then, unexpectedly, she came over to her mother, and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know I’m not what you always wanted for a daughter, but I’ll try to do better. I shouldn’t let myself get so upset”

Before Geraldine could make any response at all, Marilyn was gone. Geraldine looked out the window, and saw her daughter get on her bike and pedal off. She frowned a little, with a vague feeling that something important
had just happened and she had missed it. Then she put it out of her mind and went back to her ironing.

Marilyn saw them before they saw her. She stood inside the door and looked out on the half-dead garden behind the hospital. Penny Anderson and Judy Nelson were chatting together while Karen Morton flirted with one of the orderlies. Marilyn’s first impulse was to leave, and either forget about the whole thing or come back another time. She fought the impulse down and stood inside the building, watching the group of girls and the orderly.

Then, after a couple of moments, Judy and Penny joined Karen. Marilyn could see their lips moving but couldn’t hear their voices. She wondered what they were talking about

“Don’t look now,” Penny was saying, “but I could swear that Marilyn Crane is standing just inside that door.” The other girls started to turn, but Penny spoke again. “I said don’t look now. What do you suppose she’s doing here?”

“If she’s watching us, she probably came to visit me,” Judy said acidly.

“After Saturday night?” Penny asked. “I wouldn’t think she’d want to see any of us, after what we did to her.” She began giggling to herself, remembering the expression on Marilyn’s face as she had realized why they had invited her to the party.

“She doesn’t know I had anything to do with it” Judy said. “I was right here in the hospital, remember?”

“I wonder what she wants?” Karen said. Then, feeling the pressure of the orderly’s leg against her own, she suddenly stood up. Things were going too far.

“Let’s get out of here,” Karen said nervously. “Marilyn isn’t going to come over as long as we’re here, and I
don’t want to talk to her anyway. Her pimples might rob off.” She was pleased when the other girls laughed.

“Okay,” Judy grinned. “You two get out of here, and I’ll call you as soon as she leaves.”

“That should be good for a laugh,” Penny said. Then she and Karen wandered off, trying not to look at the door where Marilyn still hovered.

   Marilyn watched them go, and reached out tentatively to push the door open. Then something told her to forget it, to leave the hospital without talking to Judy. Too late. Judy was waving at her.

“Hi,” Judy called. “What brings you out here?” Her voice sounded friendly, and Marilyn felt encouraged. Maybe this hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.

“I—I thought you might want some company,” she said hesitantly. She offered Judy the stack of fan magazines she had picked up in the drugstore on her way to the hospital. “I brought these for you.”

Judy glanced idly at the covers. “Thanks,” she said laconically. She stared at Marilyn, waiting for the other girl to speak.

“When are you going home?” Marilyn eventually asked.

“Who knows? As far as Pm concerned, I could go home today. But they won’t let me out of here until I tell them why I did it—and I don’t want to tell them.”

The orderly looked sharply at Judy, and seemed about to say something. Judy didn’t give him time.

“Why don’t you leave us alone?” she said to him. “I mean, how can we talk with you sitting listening to every word?”

“Tm not supposed to leave you alone,” the orderly replied. “You know that”

“Oh, that’s stupid,” Judy snapped. “Cant you just go
over there and sit by yourself? That way you can still see me, but at least I can talk to Marilyn.”

“Well …” the orderly began, on the edge of agreeing to Judy’s request. Judy pushed him a little harder.

“Then go on,” she urged. “Just for a few minutes.” She took on an appealing little-girl look, and before the orderly could decide if it was sincere, he had taken the bait.

“Okay,” he said, standing up. “But only for a few minutes. Then you have to go back to your room.”

Judy pouted a little, but the pout disappeared as soon as the young man’s back was turned. She grinned conspiratorially at Marilyn. “I have him wrapped around my little finger,” she whispered. But Marilyn wasn’t listening. She was thinking about something.

“What was it like?” she asked.

“What was what like?”

“What you did,” Marilyn said. “You know—” Her voice trailed off, and she was afraid she’d said the wrong thing. A dreamy expression had come over Judy’s face.

“It was weird,” she said. “You know what? I really don’t know why I did it. I was mad at my mother, but certainly not that mad.”

“You didn’t seem mad when I saw you in the hall that day,” Marilyn mused. “You seemed more—sad.”

Judy looked at her curiously. “You? I don’t remember seeing you.”

“Don’t you remember?” Marilyn asked her. “It must have been just before you went to the gym and—and did it.”

Judy shook her head slowly. “I don’t remember anything like that at all,” she said. “All I remember about that day is talking to Mr. Balsam. Then it all gets kind of fuzzy. But I remember being in the locker room, and
I remember cutting myself. It didn’t hurt at all. I just cut myself, and the blood started coming out. And I felt so peaceful. It was—well, it was almost like I feel sitting in church sometimes, listening to Monsignor celebrate Mass. A strange feeling comes over me, and I feel like I’m not in my body anymore. That’s how it felt when I cut myself. Like I was watching it happen to someone else. And then I suddenly realized what I’d done. I mean, I suddenly realized it was me it was happening to. And I got scared. That’s when I called the police. And then Mr. Jenkins found me.” Judy paused, eyeing the other girl. “The rest was horrible.”

“Horrible? What do you mean?” It seemed to Marilyn that the cutting would have been the hard part.

“They all wanted to know what happened. Why did I do it? How do I know why I did it? It just seemed like a good idea at the time. Now they’re all afraid I’m going to try it again.”

“Are you?” Marilyn asked, her voice serious. Judy shook her head emphatically.

“Not a chance. I suppose if I’d really wanted to kill myself, then I might try again. But I don’t think I wanted to die. I think I just wanted to see what it felt like. But it’s all over now.” She grinned suddenly. “I’ve got too much to do. Who has time to die?”

Then the orderly was back, and Judy was standing up.

“Nap time,” she said, with a hint of a sneer in her voice. “They treat you like a baby around here.”

“If you act like a baby, you get treated like one,” the orderly pointed out. Judy stuck her tongue out at him, but he ignored it. The two of them started walking toward the building. Suddenly Judy turned back.

“Thanks for coming,” she said. Then, just before she disappeared into the hospital, she spoke again. “Killing
yourself is really kind of neat You should try it sometime.” And then Judy Nelson began to laugh—a laugh that lingered in Marilyn’s ears long after Judy disappeared into the shadows of the building.

   Marilyn Crane sat alone for a long time, staring at nothing and trying to figure out the meaning of everything Judy had said. Then, she didn’t know how much later, she finally left the bench and went back to her bike.

Before she mounted the bike and rode away from the hospital, Marilyn reached into the carryall. Her hand closed on a small object She took it from the carryall and stared at it

A small packet of razor blades.

Marilyn had no memory of having purchased them.

No memory of putting them in the carryall.

Yet there they were. She stared at them mutely, part of her mind wondering where they had come from, part of her mind accepting the fact of them. Carefully, she replaced them in her bag.

From a window on the second floor of the hospital, Judy Nelson watched Marilyn. There was a small smile on Judy’s face as Marilyn pedaled away toward town. Judy watched until Marilyn disappeared, then got back into bed. She picked up the telephone, dialed, and waited while it rang.

“Penny? Marilyn just left.”

“What did she want?”

“Who knows? Who even cares? But I’ll tell you one thing. Something’s going to happen to that girl!”

The Bishop glanced once more at the calendar on his desk, and noted the neatly inked appointment for five o’clock. “Golf,” it read, “Joe Flynn.” He had been looking forward to it all week until an hour ago, when his secretary had come in and calmly penciled in another appointment above the golf date: “Peter Balsam.” His raised eyebrows had only produced a shrug and the explanation, “Fellow says it’s urgent.” So now he was going to be late for his golf date, and while he knew Joe Flynn would forgive him, he wasn’t certain he would forgive this Peter Balsam for delaying him. Golf, after all, was important. The Bishop glared up at the clock on the wall, hoping the man would be late, even if only by a minute. During that minute he would have a legitimate excuse for slipping out the door behind his desk. He was counting the last fifteen seconds when the buzzer on his intercom sounded.

Muttering to himself, he pressed the switch. “Yes?” he barked as loudly and testily as he could, hoping to intimidate the unwanted visitor.