The Outsider (62 page)

“Did the police find you?”

“Yes. Where's Eva?”

“But what have you done, Lionel? What did they want?”

“Nothing. But where's Eva?”

“She's gone. With Menti and Blimin—But what are the cops after you for?”

“It's nothing—Where did Menti and Blimin take Eva?”

“I don't know. They just asked her to come with them. But are you in some kind of trouble?”

He sighed. Then whirled as the doorbell rang.

“Maybe that's Eva now,” Sarah said, hurrying.

It was Eva. She came quickly and excitedly into the hallway. She was a little stooped, as though bent with dread; she stopped at the sight of Cross. Her face went white and her eyes held a wild, scared look. She knows something…The Party had told her; he could feel it. He ran toward her.

“God, Eva, what's the matter?”

She backed away from him, stumbling against a wall, her eyes transfixed with terror.

“Eva, let me tell you everything!” he cried.

She looked at him with an opened mouth and shook her head.

“Darling, listen. I've been wanting to tell you—”

“Your name's not Lionel…You're married, aren't you?”

“Yes,” he sighed.

“Why didn't you tell me?” she demanded in helpless despair.

“I'll explain everything…”

“Oh, God, the Party's accusing you of
everything—
All night I've battled and fought and wept and screamed to save you—To protect you—And they say I'm wrong; they say you're guilty of something—
Why didn't you tell me this…? Where's your wife?”

“She's here in the city somewhere; but you and I are together—”

“Does she love you?”

How like a woman to think of those little things first!

“No.”

“Do you love her?”

“No.”

“You have three small sons—?”

“Yes.”

“You deserted them?”

“Yes, Eva.”

“And you know that your mother died yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“Then you're really the man who ran off from Chicago, leaving his family—?”

“Yes.”

“You don't love your family?”

“No.”

His answers had come automatically; he was staring at the floor, waiting for her to question him further. Eva covered her eyes with her hands and leaned against the wall. She sighed in despair.

“What kind of a man are you?” she asked in a whisper.

He had confessed a part of it; now he had to tell her all. She had to believe in him, help him, understand him…

“Eva, come into the room,” he begged her. “I must talk to you—”

“I feel dead,” Eva whimpered. “
Why
did you fool me?” She choked and wept for a moment. “Nothing you ever told me was true…And Lionel's not your name! Oh, God!”

Sarah was staring from one to the other with an open mouth.

“What's happened?” she asked.

“His name's not Lionel Lane,” Eva sobbed.

Sarah backed away from Cross as though he had become a leper.

“You mean you gave us
another
false name?” she demanded indignantly. “You gave Bob a false name the first time you met him…”

“I must talk to you, Eva,” he said. “Come into the room. I love you. This
can't
break us up. It
mustn't
. I'll explain everything. You'll see.”

Sarah stepped between him and Eva.

“What are you doing to her? Leave her alone—She's scared to death—”

“I've
got
of to talk to her, Sarah. I'll explain everything to you later,” he said, taking Sarah's arm and pushing her to one side.

He was clinging to a thread of hope. He knew that in spite of all, she still believed in him. But what was he to tell her? Her staunch confidence in him had helped her to weather the storm she had met at the Party headquarters, and now she had come meekly to him for confirmation of what she had fought for, and he could not give it to her. He took her gently by the arm and led her down the hallway and into their bedroom. He could feel the tension in her body as she moved, pulling jerkily but feebly against his hand. He wanted more than anything on earth to keep her, and yet he did not know how; he had no notion of what to say. He closed the bedroom door and turned to her.

“
What's
your name?” she asked him softly.

“Cross Damon,” he answered, but he could not look her in the eye.

“
Why
didn't you tell me this before?”

“I was afraid to, and I was ashamed,” he told her truthfully.

He glanced at her now and what he saw filled him with frenzy. There were other and bigger questions looming behind those clear, hazel eyes, and those questions condemned him more crushingly than anything that Houston could have said to him. He saw her lips move several times, but no words came from her. She turned from him and leaned against the wall, sobbing softly.

“I gave you my diary to read,” she whimpered. “I thought you'd be honest with me
…You've
deceived me too!”

“I was frightened of telling you everything, of telling you the truth,” he said. “I was afraid that you'd run off from me.”

“Lionel—” She paused and cried afresh. “I don't even know what to call you now…” She went to the bed and sank upon it, staring in bleak dismay before her.

Yes, she wants to ask me about Gil…She wants to know…Oh, God! He went to his knees and clutched his arms about her legs. He would beg and plead for his life. He waited in agony for her to ask, and he felt that he could scarcely draw his breath into his lungs.

“Eva,” he begged. “It's not too late. If you love me, it's never too late. Remember that. You told me you loved me, and I need you now. If you turn from me, the world collapses…”

“So—S-s-so it w-was
true…
What you told me that night? When you came in?”

He hung his head and could not answer.

“You were trying to tell me something—You were all mixed up and you spoke of killing men—Oh, God—! I thought you were delirious, ill. I thought you
were talking out of your mind because of fever and worry…”

She had asked him directly at last! And he could not lift his eyes to look her in the face. He tightened his arms about her legs, afraid to let go of her.

“Eva, I love you; I love you,” he mumbled frantically. “You must remember that. I'm crazed with fear and worry now. Don't leave me…”

“You
did
it, then? What the Party said?”

“What did they say?”

“They said you killed Gil to get me…”

He was tempted. Ought he tell her a lie and let her think that? Would it not touch her heart and make the look of the world seem less strange and hostile to her? Would it not make her love him the more? But would he not be locking himself up again behind the wall of himself if he lied to her again? What would lying solve now? Nothing…And what made it so hellishly difficult was that when he lifted his eyes he could see in her face that she was expecting to hear him say that he had killed Gil for her, to get her, out of his love for her.

“Nooooo,” he breathed. “I killed Gil…But it was not for you—”

“Oh, God in Heaven! Why
did
you kill him, Lionel?”

“I don't know,” he whispered.

“
Why
? There must be some
reason…
”

He shook his head; his body was trembling all over.

“You
must
know; you
say
you did it,” she said.

Could he ever tell her? He had to try. He had to talk or he could not go on living. He had to try to get for once in his life from behind himself, to walk out of his house as she had once walked out of her house to meet him.

“Eva,” he whispered hoarsely, still clutching her legs. “It goes way back…God, help me to explain…I
want
to explain…” He felt hot tears rolling down his cheeks. “You see, Eva, I don't
believe
in anything…” He spoke in a tone of voice that he knew sounded unreal, not convincing. But how could he make it sound otherwise? How did one
tell
these things?

“What had Gil done to you?” she asked in a whisper that carried an overtone of hope.

“Nothing,” he sighed and felt that he would choke. “Oh, God, he did nothing to me…Eva, I'm praying to you to try to understand me
…Somebody
must understand me…I'll die if you don't understand…Look, when you can't believe in anything, when you're just here on this earth and there's nothing,
nothing
else…Oh, Christ, I can't explain it! You have to
feel
it! You have to
live
it! It has to be in your blood before it can become real to you…I feel like I'm talking to you from another world…Trying to talk to you through a glass wall…I know you can't understand…But, Eva, you must love me and trust me!” He shook his head in bewilderment. “If you understood, you'd suffer too like I did…Oh, no; you'll never understand this…” Despair was full in him. “I didn't ever want to tell you like this…” All of his hope had gone and he was talking to her out of a sense of futility.

“When did you kill him?”

“When I went down to see what had happened…They were fighting…God, I can't explain how I felt…When I looked at them, I suddenly hated them both…They'd done nothing to me…They weren't even paying any attention to me; they were fighting so hard that they didn't even know that I was in the room…” He knew that what he was saying did not sound convincing to her. And the knowledge of it maddened him; he stood and began shouting: “Don't you
understand
? You've been scared, haven't you? You know what it means to live senselessly? When every day is a foolish day? And when I stood in that room I saw more senselessness and foolishness right before my eyes and I felt a way to stop it! I hated what I saw! And I hated myself because all my life I was unable to do anything about it…I tell you, I
hated
it. It insulted me…I wanted to blot it out, wipe it from the face of the earth…” It seemed that he had forgotten that he was speaking to her; his hands and arms made gestures as he stood in the dim room before her and reenacted his crime. “I took the table leg and battered Herndon down, killed him…I did it; yes…I wasn't angry with him personally; not then…I'd been angry with him before, but I felt no anger then…I killed 'im because I didn't think he had a right to live…Did you ever feel like that about anybody? No; you couldn't feel that…” He paused and rubbed his eyes; then he seemed to remember that he was telling her about what had happened. “Then I hit Gil…He wasn't expecting it…I was mad with them…No; not personally mad. Don't you know what I mean…? I can't say it right, goddammit, I
can't…
I wanted to live so badly; I wanted a good life so terribly much that what I saw made me mad,
mad…
And I killed them…Eva,
believe me
…It was that that made me kill them…” He looked at her and there was no light of comprehension in her eyes. “Oh, God, you don't
believe
me…You
can't
believe me…But you
must
, Eva; you
can
; you of all the people in the world can understand…I
know
it…” His voice died away in a whisper. Then he resumed, reciting his words as though he was reliving the scene of the murder and blood again. “I kept hitting them until they were dead…I wasn't sorry…I knew I was right…Then I wiped off all the finger
prints…I didn't want to be caught; I didn't want to be punished…Then I came up to you…That's what I did, Eva. Now, can you understand that?”

She was white as a sheet; she seemed not to breathe.

“And Hilton
too
?” she asked in a whisper.

“Yes,” he sighed.

“Because he knew?”

“No; not exactly. No.”

“Then
why
?”

“Mainly because of what he did to Bob…And because of what he wanted to do to me,” he said, speaking mechanically.

She was still as a block of ice. Her eyes stared unseeingly into the shadows of the room. Then he saw her body jerk as some idea came into her mind.

“That night when you were trying to tell me,” she began in a whisper. “You spoke of Chicago…” She shook her head helplessly, then bit her pale lips. “You said you killed somebody else…”

“Eva, Eva…Please, I need help…If ever a man needed your love, I need it…I've killed and killed…Have mercy on me…Pity me, but not for what has been done to me, but for what I've done to others and myself…You be my judge; you tell me if I'm to live now…Can you tell me…?”

She was edging away from him; her eyes reflected horror.

“But I thought you were against brutality—I thought you were going to tell me what Gil had done to you—I thought you hated suffering—”

“I do!” he shouted. “That's why I did it! I couldn't stand the thought of it, the sight of it…!”

She did not believe him; she could not believe him. She was a reluctant victim and he was a willing one…He stared fully at her and reached out his hand to touch
her. She leaped away from him, gasping, and scrambled to her feet.

“Eva,” he pleaded.

She ran from him, to the door. He started after her, frantic, his bloodshot eyes glistening.

“Eva, please try to understand…It's hard…I know…But try,
try…
I can redeem myself…Let me be with you…” He was praying to her.

She gave a short scream and ran out of the room. He followed her out of the door. Sarah came rushing down the hall.