cw.imarriedadeadman-第16章

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urple　stamp；　with　wavy　cancellationlines　running　through　it。　Then　the　circular　postmark　itself；　off　to　the　side。　It　had　been　posted　late；　after　twelve　last　night。　Where？　She　wondered。　By　whom？　She　could　see　in　her　mind's　eye　an　indistinct；　furtive　figure　slinking　up　to　a　street　mall…box　in　the　dark；　a　hand　hastily　thrusting　something　into　the　chute；　the　clang　as　the　slot　fell　closed　again。
　She　wanted　to　get　it　out　of　here；　take　it　upstairs　with　her；　close　the　door。　But　if　she　carried　it　away　with　her　unopened；　wouldn't　that　look　secretive；　wouldn't　that　call　undue　attention　to　it？　It　was　safe　enough　to　open　it　here　in　the　very　room；　they　never　pried　in　this　house；　they　never　asked　questions。　She　knew　she　could　even　have　left　it　lying　around　open　after　having　read　it　herself；　and　it　would　have　been　safe；　nobody　would　have　put　a　hand　to　it。
　She　ran　her　knife　through　the　flap；　slit　it。
　Mother　Hazzard　had　taken　over　Hughie's　feeding；　she　had　eyes　for　no　one　but　him。　Every　mouthful　brought　forth　a　paean　of　praise。
　She'd　opened　the　once…folded　inner　sheet　now。　The　flowers　were　in　the　way；　they　screened　the　shaking　of　her　hand。　So　blank　it　was；　so　much　waste　space；　so　little　writing。　Just　a　line　across　the　middle　of　the　paper；　where　the　crease　ran。
　
　〃WHAT　ARE　YOU　DOING　THERE？〃
　
　She　could　feel　her　chest　constricting。　She　tried　to　quell　the　sudden　inordinate　quickness　of　her　breathing；　lest　it　betray　itself。
　Mother　Hazzard　was　showing　Hughie　his　plate。　〃All　gone。　Hughie　ate　it　all　up！　Where　is　it？〃
　She'd　lowered　it　into　her　lap　now。　She　managed　to　get　it　back　into　its　envelope；　and　fold　that　over；　singly　and　then　doubly；　until　it　fitted　into　the　span　of　her　hand。
　〃One　more　and　something　will　snap。〃　And　here　it　was；　the　one　more。
　She　could　feel　her　self…control　ebbing　away；　and　didn't　know　what　catastrophic　form　its　loss　might　take。　〃I've　got　to　get　out　of　this　room；〃　she　warned　herself。　〃I've　got　to　get　away　from　this　table…　now…quickly！〃
　She　stood　up　suddenly；　stumbling　a　little　over　her　chair。　She　turned　and　left　the　table　without　a　word。
　〃Patrice；　aren't　you　going　to　have　your　coffee？〃
　〃I'll　be　right　down；〃　she　said　smotheredly；　from　the　other　side　of　the　doorway。　〃I　forgot　something。〃
　She　got　up　there；　into　her　room；　and　got　the　door　closed。
　It　was　like　the　bursting　of　a　dam。　She　hadn't　known　what　form　it　would　take。　Tears；　she'd　thought；　or　high…pitched　hysterical　laughter。　It　was　neither。　It　was　anger；　a　paroxysm　of　rage；　blinded　and　baffled　and　helpless。
　She　went　over　to　the　wall　and　flailed　with　upraised　fists　against　it；　held　high　over　her　head。　And　then　around　to　the　next　wall　and　the　next　and　the　next；　like　somebody　seeking　an　outlet；　crying　out　distractedly：　〃Who　are　you　yourself？　Where　are　you　sending　them　from？　Why　don't　you　e　out？　Why　don't　you　e　out　in　the　open？　Why　don't　you　e　out　where　I　can　see　you？　Why　don't　you　e　out　and　give　me　a　chance　to　fight　back？〃
　Until　at　last　she'd　stopped；　wilted　and　breathing　fast　with　spent　emotion。　In　its　wake　came　sudden　determination。　There　was　only　one　way　to　fight　back；　only　one　way　she　had　to　rob　the　attacks　of　their　power　to　harm…
　She　flung　the　door　open。　She　started　down　the　stairs　again。　Still　as　tearless　as　she'd　gone　up。　She　was　going　fast；　she　was　rippling　down　them　in　a　quick…step。　She　was　still　holding　it　in　her　hand。　She　opened　it　up；　back　to　its　full　size；　and　started　smoothing　it　out　as　she　went。
　She　came　back　into　the　dining…room　still　at　the　same　gait　she'd　used　on　the　stairs。
　〃…drank　all　his　milk　like　a　good　boy；〃　Mother　Hazzard　was　crooning。
　Patrice　moved　swiftly　around　the　table　toward　her；　stopped　short　beside　her。
　〃I　want　to　show　you　something；〃　she　said　tersely。　〃I　want　you　to　see　this。〃
　She　put　it　down　on　the　table　squarely　in　front　of　her　and　stood　there　waiting。
　〃Just　a　moment；　dear；　let　me　find　my　glasses；〃　Mother　Hazzard　purred　acquiescently。　She　probed　here　and　there　among　the　breakfast　things。　〃I　know　I　had　them　with　me　when　Father　was　here　at　the　table；　we　were　both　reading　the　paper。〃　She　looked　over　toward　the　buffet　on　the　other　side　of　her。
　Patrice　stood　there　waiting。　She　looked　over　at　Hughie。　He　was　still　holding　his　spoon；　entire　fist　folded　possessively　around　it。　He　flapped　it　at　her　joyously。　Home。　Peace。
　Suddenly　she'd　reached　over　to　her　own　place　at　the　table；　picked　up　the　department…store　circular　still　lying　there；　replaced　the　first　letter　with　that。
　〃Here　they　are；　under　my　napkin。　Right　in　front　of　me　the　whole　time。〃　Mother　Hazzard　adjusted　them；　turned　back　to　her。　〃Now　what　was　it；　dear？〃　She　opened　the　folder　and　looked　at　it。
　Patrice　pointed。　〃This　pattern；　right　here。　The　first　one。　Isn't　it…　attractive？〃
　Behind　her　back；　held　in　one　hand；　the　abducted　missive　slowly　crumpled；　deflated；　was　sucked　between　her　fingers　into　pressed　invisibility。
　
　
　29
　
　Quietly　and　deftly　she　moved　about　the　dimly　lighted　room；　passing　back　and　forth；　and　forth　and　back；　with　armfuls　of　belongings　from　the　drawers。　Hughie　lay　sleeping　in　his　crib；　and　the　clock　said　almost　one。
　The　valise　stood　open　on　a　chair。　Even　that　wasn't　hers。　It　was　the　one　she'd　first　used　on　the　train…ride　here；　new…looking　as　ever；　the　one　with　〃PH〃　on　its　rounded　corner。　She'd　have　to　borrow　it。　Just　as　she　was　borrowing　the　articles　she　picked　at　random；　to　throw　into　it。　Just　as　she　was　borrowing　the　very　clothes　she　stood　in。　There　were　only　two　things　in　this　whole　room　with　her　now　that　were　rightfully　hers。　That　little　bundle　sleeping　quietly　there　in　the　crib。　And　that　seventeen　cents　lying　spread　out　on　a　scrap　of　paper　on　the　dresser…top。
　She　took　things　for　him；　mostly。　Things　he　needed；　things　to　keep　him　warm。　They　wouldn't　mind；　they　wouldn't　begrudge　that；　they　loved　him　almost　as　much　as　she　did；　she　reasoned　ruefully。　She　quickened　her　movements；　as　if　the　danger　of　faltering　in　purpose　lay　somewhere　along　this　train　of　thought　if　she　lingered　on　it　too　long。
　For　herself　she　took　very　little；　only　what　was　of　absolute　necessity。　Underthings；　an　extra　pair　or　two　of　stockings…
　Things；　things。　What　did　things　matter；　when　your　whole　world　was　breaking　up　and　crumbling　about　you？　Your　world？　It　wasn't　your　world；　it　was　a　world　you　had　no　right　to　be　in。
　She　dropped　the　lid　of　the　valise；　latched　it　impatiently　on　what　it　held；　indifferent　to　whether　it　held　enough；　or　too　much；　or　too　little。　A　little　tongue　of　white　stuff　was　trapped；　left　protruding　through　the　seam；　and　she　let　it　be。
　She　put　on　the　hat　and　coat　she'd　left　in　readiness　across　the　foot　of　the　bed。　The　hat　without　consulting　a　mirror；　though　there　was　one　right　at　her　shoulder。　She　picked　up　her　handbag；　and　probed　into　it　with　questing　hand。　She　brought　out　a　key；　the　key　to　this　house；　and　put　it　down　on　the　dresser。　Then　she　brought　out　a　small　change…purse　and　shook　it　out。　A　cabbagy　cluster　of　interfolded　currency　fell　out　soundlessly；　and　a　sprinkling　of　coins；　these　last　with　a　tinkling　sound　and　some　rolling　about。　She　swept　them　all　closer　together；　and　then　left　them　there　on　top　of　the　dresser。　Then　she　picked　uj　the　seventeen　cents　and　dropped　that　into　the　changepurse　instead；　and　replaced　it　in　the　handbag；　and　thrust　that　under　her　arm。
　She　went　over　beside　the　crib；　then；　and　lowered　its　side。　She　crouched　down　on　a　level　with　the　small　sleeping　face。　She　kissed　it　lightly　on　each　eyelid。　〃I'll　be　back　for　you　in　a　minute；〃　she　whispered。　〃I　have　to　take　the　bag　down　first　and　stand　it　at　the　door。　I　can't　manage　you　both　on　those　stairs；　I'm　afraid。〃　She　straightened　up；　lingered　a　moment；　looking　down　at　him。　〃We're　going　for　a　ride；　you　and　I；　we　don't　know　where；　and　we　don't　care。　Straight　out；　along　the　way　the　trains　go。　We'll　find　someone　along　the　road　who'll　let　us　in　next　to　him…〃
　The　clock　said　a　little　after　one　now。
　She　went　over　to　the　door；　softly　opened　it；　and　carried　the　valise　outside　with　her。　She　eased　it　closed　behind　her；　and　then　she　started　down　the　stairs　valise　in　hand；　with　infinite　slowness；　as　though　it　weighed　a　lot。　Yet　it　couldn't　have　been　the　valise　alone　that　seemed　to　pull　her　arm　down　so；　it　must　have　been　the　leadenness　of　her　heart。
　Suddenly　she'd　stopped；　and　allowed　the　valise　to　e　to　rest　on　the　step　beside　her。　They　were　sthnding　there　without　a　sound；　down　below　her　by　the　front　door；　the　two　of　them。　Father　Hazzard　and　Doctor　Parker。　She　hadn't　heard　them　until　now；　for　they　hadn't　been　saying　anything。　They　must　have　been　standing　there　in　a　sort　of　momentary　mournful　silence；　just　preceding　leavetaking。
　They　broke　it　now；　as　she　stood　there　unseen；　above　the　bend　of　the　stairs。
　〃Well；　goodnight；　Donald；〃　the　doctor　said　at　last；　and　she　saw　him　put　his　hand　to　Father　Hazzard's　shoulder　in　an　attempt　at　consolation；　then　let　it　trail　heavily　off　again。　〃Get　some　sleep。　She'll　be　all　right。〃　He　opened　the　door；　then　he　added：　〃But　no　excitement；　no　stress　of　any　kind　from　now　on；　you　understand　that；　Donald？　That'll　be　your　job；　to　keep　all　that　away　from　her。　Can　I　count　on　you？〃
　〃You　can　count　on　me；〃　Father　Hazzard　said　forlornly。
　The　door　closed；　and　he　turned　away　and　started　up　the　stairs；　to　where　she　stood　riveted。　She　moved　down　a　step　or　two　around　the　turn　to　meet　him；　leaving　the　valise　behind　her；　doffed　hat　and　coat　flung　atop　it　now。
　He　looked　up　and　he　saw　her；　without　much　surprise；　without　much　of　anything　except　a　sort　of　stony　sadness。
　〃Oh；　it's　you；　Patrice；〃　he　said　dully。　〃Did　you　hear　him？　Did　you　hear　what　he　just　said？〃
　〃Who　is　it…Mother？〃
　〃She　had　another　of　those　spells　soon　after　we　retired。　He's　been　in　there　with　her　for　over　an　hour　and　a　half。　It　was　touch　and　go；　for　a　few　minutes；　at　first…〃
　〃But　Father！　Why　didn't　you…？〃
　He　sat　down　heavily　on　the　stair…step。　She　sat　down　beside　him；　slung　one　arm　about　his　shoulders。
　〃Why　should　I　bother　you；　dear？　There　wouldn't　have　been　anything　you　could　have…　You　have　the　baby　on　your　hands　all　day　long；　you　need　your　rest。　Besides；　this　isn't　anything　new。　Her　heart's　always　been　weak。　Way　back　before　the　boys　were　born…〃
　〃I　never　knew。　You　never　told　me…　But　is　it　getting　worse？〃
　〃Things　like　that　don't　improve　as　you　get　on　in　years；〃　he　said　gently。
　She　let　her　head　slant　to　rest　against　his　shoulder；　in　punction。
　He　patted　her　hand　consolingly。　〃She'll　be　all　right　We'll　see　that　she　is；　you　and　I；　between　us；　won't。we？〃
　She　shivered　a　little；　involuntarily；　at　that。
　〃It's　just　that　we've　got　to　cushion　her　against　all　shocks　and　upsets；〃　he　said。　〃You　and　the　young　fellow；　you're　about　the　best　medicine　for　her　there　is。　Just　having　you　around…〃
　And　if　in　the　morning　she　had　asked　for　Patrice；　asked　for　her　grandchild；　and　he'd　had　to　tell　her…She　fell　strangely　silent；　looking　down　at　the　steps　under　their　feet；　but　no　longer　seeing　them。　And　if　she'd　e　out　of　her　room　five　minutes　later；　just　missing　the　doctor　as　he　left；　she　might　have　brought　death　into　this　house；　in　repayment　for　all　the　love　that　had　been　lavished　on　her。　Killed　the　only　mother　she'd　ever　known。
　He　misunderstood　her　abstraction；　pressed　her　chin　with　the　cleft　of　his　hand。　〃Now　don't　take　it　like　that；