Charlie Martz and Other Stories (14 page)

They would come out of the chloroform in fifteen or twenty minutes. If the state police found them first, let Perris tell whatever he liked. Even the truth if he didn't mind the publicity that might result. It didn't matter to Evan what he did. It was over.

He crossed the plowed field and passed again through the woods, picking up his hoof knife on the way back to the house.

Julie held open the door. “Ev, what if they come back?”

“I doubt if they will.”

“Then we won't think about it,” she said.

They sat in the living room for a few minutes then went out to the kitchen to finish the dishes.

A
T FIVE O'CLOCK THERE
was still no sign of Roy. Elaine stood at the dinette window looking down three stories into the darkening court of the apartment building. If she pressed her left cheek to the pane she could see a short stretch of sidewalk and beyond it, the
NO PARKING BUILDING ENTRANCE
signs, the street pavement glistening in the October rain. From the living room window she could see only one of the signs, and only half as much of the pavement.

She was thinking, and was almost completely sure of it, that Roy had stopped for a beer. There wasn't anything wrong with that, but at least he could call. Roy's shift was out at three-thirty and usually he was home by four-ten, the latest. Except on bowling night and softball night and, it occurred to her now, almost every time it rained that Grady didn't have the car.

That was it. She wasn't sure whether Grady had taken the car. Roy rode with him when he did; when he didn't, they took the bus together.

She had seen Inez, Grady's wife, come in just before three-thirty pushing the stroller with little Grady in it and her other arm loaded down with groceries. Elaine would have called, but the rain started just then and Inez had hurried through the court. It was lucky she and Grady had a first-floor apartment—with the stroller and all.

I forgot about that,
Elaine thought.
I'll be climbing three flights.
She smiled, turning from the window. The first six weeks Roy would be carrying her up and down.

She glanced at the mirror over the buffet then stopped, her fingers lightly touching the short hair at the nape of her neck and she studied the dark curl that clung close to the soft curve of her cheek. She had had it cut that morning. Roy'll die! She went on then to the wall telephone and dialed.

“Inez? Hi . . . Listen, did Grady drive today? . . . Oh . . . No, he's not home either. They're probably in some bar . . . Uh-huh . . . Every time it rains. We should be used to it by now . . . No, I was just anxious for him to get home . . . I wasn't sure if Grady drove . . . Uh-huh . . . Inez, listen, why don't you and Grady come up after a while? . . . No, we've been to your place too many times. Get a sitter and come up . . . Uh-huh, it's on I think . . . No, I've just seen it once or twice. Roy likes to watch the fights. They come on at the same time . . . you can miss it this once. I've got something to show you . . . No! It's a surprise! . . . You sort of buy it, but not like you're thinking.”

Elaine moved the length of the telephone cord then leaned to the side until she could see herself in the buffet mirror. She smiled, turning her head from side to side.

“Uh-huh, you wear it . . . That's right, but you don't buy it at a store.” Elaine giggled. “Inez, I've got something to tell you, too . . . Ohhhhhh, you wrecked it! How'd you know? . . . Uh-huh . . . No my mother used to say you could tell by the eyes.” . . . She shook her head. “They look the same to me . . . Just two weeks . . . Uh-huh . . .
No, I haven't told him yet . . . Because he gets so excited. He'll run out and get a baseball mitt and it'll turn out to be a false alarm . . . What? I know.” Elaine laughed into the phone . . . “I'm just kidding. I'm going to tell him as soon as he gets home . . . OK . . . About eight-thirty or nine, if they're still standing up . . . OK, good-bye.” She hung up the receiver and stepped into the kitchen.

It was a quarter past five by the electric clock above the refrigerator as she took out the hamburger. Not really late, but he still could have called.

Tonight of all nights,
Elaine thought. All morning she had planned how she would tell him. She would wait for him to sit down with the paper. (She could picture him turning to the sports section. Wednesday night: he'd be studying next Saturday's football schedule, picking out four or five teams to play on the odds card.) She would bring him a bottle of beer then lean close to him so he'd be looking right into her eyes. “Roy, do you notice anything?” He'd make a funny crack and then she would tell him. “Roy, I'm pregnant. I'm sure of it this time!”

No,
she thought now.
Say it some other way.
She had been sure three times before. Three times in the seven years of their marriage and nothing had happened. But this time she
was
sure. She had only thought she was those other times. “Roy, I was
sick
this morning!” Telling him in the sound of her voice what a wonderful feeling it was to be sick that way—after seven years. “That's why I'm really sure. I never was sick those other times!”

But the haircut—

Well, he would see it right away. There was no getting around that.
But he'll get used to it,
she thought.
And then he'll love it.
Telling him about the baby, almost at the same time, she considered perfect timing.

It was ten minutes to six when Roy came in, and he did notice her hair right away.

“What happened to you?” He peeled off his jacket and dropped it over the arm of a chair. He was wearing a red and white jersey with
FALCONS
lettered across the front of it. He was of medium build, but not more than five foot seven and sometimes, when he walked, he held his arms out as if he were conscious of the muscles in them.

Elaine came to him from the dinette. She was smiling. “Like it?” She turned her face to let him see both profiles.

He looked at her sullenly. “You look like you got your head caught in a fan.”

“It's the Italian cut.”

“That makes it all right?”

“It's the latest thing.”

“There's a guy on a drill press at work got hair just like that. He'll be glad to know it.”

Elaine shrugged. “All right, you don't like it.”

“For seven years your hair's long, like a woman's supposed to be; then one day I come home and find you looking like a guy and I'm supposed to like it.”

“Roy, all summer it was so hot—”

“So when it starts to get winter you have it cut off.”

“You might as well get used to it.”

“Just like that.”

“Well, they can't glue it back on.”

“How much did it cost?”

“Six dollars.”

“Six bucks for that!”

“Roy, he had to do more than just cut it. It had to be styled, and set—”

“Was this guy an Eyetalian that cut it?”

“I don't know. He said my hair was perfect for it.”

“What'd you expect him to say?”

“Roy, why don't we just forget it?”

“You'd have to keep your hat on.”

Elaine turned and walked to the kitchen.

“Get me a beer,” Roy called after her. He sat down in the big chair across from the televison set and picked up the evening paper, glancing at the headline (something about a pact OK'd), and turned immediately to the sports section.

“Here's your beer,” Elaine said.

He dropped one side of the paper and took the bottle from her, raised it, and drank it down to the top of the label before lowering it. Then he looked at Elaine, who was still standing in front of him. “Thanks.”

“How many does that make?” she asked.

“How many what?”

“Beers.”

“What're you talking about?”

“You weren't working overtime.”

“So I must've stopped by a tavern.”

“Well, didn't you?”

“No.” He took another gulp of beer, set the bottle down, and picked up the newspaper from his lap.

“All right, then you didn't have a drink,” Elaine said. She turned to the kitchen.

Roy lowered the newspaper. “You gotta know, don't you?”

She looked back at him, but did not speak.

“I told you I was going to be late. I told you we were having election of officers right after work.”

Elaine frowned. “I don't remember. Officers for what?”

“The bowling league!”

Elaine shook her head. “I don't remember you telling me that.”

“But you remembered to get an Eyetalian haircut.”

She was thinking:
there's no sense driving it into the ground.
She walked out to the kitchen, hearing him get up and follow her.
He stood in the doorway as she put the hamburgers under the broiler.

“I got nominated for president.”

She glanced at him. “Then what do you look so glum about?”

“I got nominated, not elected.”

“When do they vote?”

“Tomorrow after work. We didn't have time today.”

“Well, you'll be elected tomorrow then.”

“I got nominated the last one,” he said bitterly. “On a fluke!”

“What do you mean?”

“Grady's name was in for it. Him an' another guy. But Grady got up and said he didn't want the job. He said he wanted to nominate me instead.”

“Well?”

“I don't want no charity.”

“That's not charity.”

“What do you call it? I organized the league. Five years ago I organized the whole deal and got it going. And not once—not one damn time am I the president! Grady feels like a big shot and puts my name in. I'm a substitute for a guy who don't even want to be president!”

Elaine rinsed her hands and dried them on a dish towel. “I think that was pretty nice of him.”

“You don't know anything about it.”

“Somebody must've seconded it.”

“After Grady made a speech.”

“Well, Roy”—she smiled—“maybe you just weren't cut out to be a politician.”

“I
organized
the league!”

“You've been a team captain. Roy's Boys.”

“Team captain isn't president.”

“Why don't you wait and see?”

During dinner, Elaine turned on the television when she saw
Roy was not going to talk and she watched a panel show while they ate. But when they were finishing their coffee she said, “Grady and Inez are coming up after a while.”

Roy looked up. “What for?”

“Just to be sociable.”

“I don't feel like being sociable.”

“You can watch the fights. I felt like talking to Inez.”

“You want to show her your hair?”

“That's part of it.” She watched Roy get up and go into the living room. He sat down and picked up the sports section, not looking at her.

Grady and Inez came up at five minutes to nine. Inez thought Elaine's hair was perfect. Should have been short a long time ago! Elaine was watching Roy. She saw him look at Inez disgustedly, then he turned to the television and switched channels.

“Who's fighting?” Grady said.

Roy shrugged. “A couple of clowns.”

“It might be a good one,” Grady said.

“You want a beer?” Roy asked him.

“What do you think I came up for?”

“I asked you if you wanted a beer.”

Grady's face sobered. “Yeah, I want one.” He was a heavyset pleasant-faced man nearing forty and losing his hair. “What's the matter with you?” he said to Roy.

Roy ignored him, looking at Inez and Elaine. “What about you?”

Elaine nodded and Inez said, “Fine.” She added, laughing, that the beer commercials on the fights made her thirsty, but Roy walked out as she was saying it.

When he came back in with the bottles of beer between his fingers Grady was looking at the sports section.

“Roy, you pick your teams yet?”

“Not yet.”

“You can't beat those bookies. They hit the point odds right on the nose—then take ties. They can't lose.”

“You got to know how to play them,” Roy said.

“Who do you like, for instance?” Grady said.

“State and thirteen.”

Grady shook his head. “They got no quarterback.”

“What're you talking about! What's his name, Buddy—”

“He's too small,” Grady said.

“Small!” Roy was standing looking down at Grady. “I played quarter at a hunnert and thirty-two pounds!”

“Roy, that was in high school.”

“So what!”

“They didn't use a T then,” Grady said mildly. “A quarterback today's got to be big enough to throw the ball over his linemen.”

Elaine saw the color rise in Roy's face and she felt relief when Inez called his name and he stopped whatever he was about to say and looked at her.

“Grady,” Inez said, smiling, “told me you're up for president of the bowling league.”

Roy was staring at her now. “Is that how he said it?”

Inez laughed. “I don't know if those were the exact words.”

“That's what I want to hear: the exact words.”

Inez tried to smile. “You sound like a lawyer.”

“And you sound like you're changing the subject,” Roy said. He was standing in front of the television set. Behind him the first round had already started. “I want to know how he really said it,” Roy insisted.