We’d been on a main highway for a few hours and I’d apologized to Walter for snapping about the song on the radio.
“Oh, that’s all right. I understand. I figured you were an orphan when you said you had no relatives. I guess they just hit you, those sad lyrics. That’s what I meant when I said that music goes right to your heart.”
Walter kept asking me, if my name wasn’t Venida, what was it, and I kept saying I hadn’t decided yet.
“My mystery lady,” he chuckled.
By the time we sat down in the Howard Johnson’s, I had just about decided on Lauri. There’s an actress, Lori Nelson, but it’s spelled differently, so I didn’t think anyone would get us confused. I still liked Meredith, so I decided to keep that. I thought Lauri Meredith was a very nice name. I liked the way there was an “r” in both the first name and the last name, so that “Lauri Meredith” sort of rolled right off your tongue.
Walter told me to order anything I wanted. I remembered the night before, in Pennsylvania, where I had wanted the special dinner but was saving money for when I got to Hollywood. Now I wished I had gotten the expensive meal. If I’d known my money was going to be stolen, I certainly wouldn’t have bothered “pinching pennies” so the thief would find an extra 20¢ in my wallet.
I ordered a hot turkey sandwich with gravy and dressing and mashed potatoes. I was so hungry I was ready to eat the color picture on the menu.
“I’ll pay you back for all this, Walter,” I said, while we waited for the food. “As soon as I get a job. I’m going to take your address and send you every penny you spend on me.”
“Now, don’t you worry about that,” Walter said. “Your pretty face and your company are worth more than I’ll spend getting you to your screen test.”
The waitress brought our food, and she hardly put the plate down in front of me before I was attacking it with my fork. Walter got the twin-knockwurst-and-beans plate. I was pushing the last bits of dressing around in the little smear of gravy left on my plate before he even finished one of his knockwurst.
I sipped at the last of my ice-cream soda and made a slurping noise with my straw. I looked around, embarrassed, to see if anyone had noticed. I pushed the glass away and sat back. For the first time in two days I felt like I’d had enough to eat.
“Would you like some dessert, Venida?” Walter asked.
“Well. . .”
“Oh, go ahead. I like to see a girl with a hearty appetite. Now, my wife, she was always dieting. She’d just pick, pick, pick at her food like a bird. And she was thin enough. I never could understand it. Go ahead. How about some chocolate layer cake?”
I certainly wouldn’t be able to afford to eat like this my first few weeks in California. I thought I’d better get my nourishment while I could. But I really meant it about paying him back. I was going to keep a record of every penny he spent on me and send it to him just as soon as I earned some money. So far I owed him for the ham sandwich, two Cokes, the turkey, a black-and-white ice-cream soda, and a piece of chocolate cake. I’d make a list later on my pad.
Later!
That’s when I realized what it was that Walter had said before in the car that bothered me. That thing I couldn’t put my finger on.
“We can be in Kentucky before dark.”
And then what? What did Walter plan to do when it got dark? He certainly couldn’t drive all night and then spend the whole next day riding around selling Bibles. He had to get some sleep.
I looked across the table at Walter. He was just finishing the last of his beans. He’d taken off his bow tie and stuck it in his pocket, now that he wasn’t working anymore.
“ ’Bout ready to go, Venida?”
“It’s Lauri.” I fixed my eyes on his face.
“Say, that’s nice. I like that even better than Venida. May take me a bit to get used to it though, after calling you Venida all this time. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Just thinking.”
He leaned across the table and grinned at me. “Penny for your thoughts.”
If I’d had any money I’d have given a whole lot more than a penny to know what he was thinking.
I found out soon enough. About an hour later, just after it got dark, Walter stopped the car at the Traveler’s Rest Motel, just outside Buford, Kentucky.
“Why are we stopping here?”
“We have to sleep, Ven—I mean, Lauri. I can’t drive all night.”
If sleeping was all he had on his mind, that was okay with me. But you couldn’t blame me for being suspicious.
“You wait here and I’ll register us.” Walter opened his door and started to get out.
“Walter?”
“What is it?”
“You better ask for separate rooms.”
“Separate rooms! Ven—I mean, Lauri—that’s ridiculous. I’m traveling with you as my daughter. Getting separate rooms would just make people suspicious.”
“Not getting separate rooms is going to make me suspicious, Walter.”
“Of me?”
“I know it’s going to cost you double, Walter, but I’ll pay you back every penny like I said.”
He scowled at me for a moment, then suddenly stopped scowling and smiled. “Okay. If that’s how you want it.”
He went inside the door that had OFFICE printed in lights over it and came back a couple of minutes later. He got back into the car, smiling. The Traveler’s Rest, as far as I could see, was just a row of doors, each with a litde light over it. Walter started the car up again and drove down the row until he got to the space in front of the last door, farthest from the office. It had a number twelve on it.
“Here we are.” He turned off the ignition and got out of the car.
“Is this my room?” I asked.
He pulled my hatbox and a small suitcase out of the trunk and slammed it shut.
“It’s our room,” he said.
I leaned out the window. “I told you to get separate rooms!”
“Keep your voice down!” he hissed at me. He came around to open my door. “They only had the one room. I tried, but this was all they had.”
I looked around the parking lot. There were only two other cars parked in the whole place.
“I don’t believe you! This place is practically empty!”
“It’s still early. Some people are out eating and some have reservations and are coming later. This was all I could get. Now come on out of the car.”
I didn’t believe him and I didn’t like the way he told me to get out of the car. I sat there, my arms folded, staring straight ahead.
He opened my door and leaned in to touch my arm. I yanked it away and slid over toward the driver’s side.
“Don’t touch me, Walter. I don’t know what kind of a girl you think I am, but I’d rather sleep in this car than spend the night in a motel with a strange man.”
“Lauri, I’m really hurt. What kind of a person do you think I am?”
“You’re a salesman. Just like—someone I know.” I was thinking of Uncle Ted. Even though he sold insurance and Walter sold Bibles, they were still both salesmen. And salesmen are people who can talk other people into buying things they might not really want. And Walter was a very good salesman.
“I can understand you not trusting people, after the experience you had,” Walter said, his voice all soft and gentle, “but I thought you trusted me. After all, you came with me, you’ve been with me all day, you’re going to be with me all the way to California. If you thought I was some kind of—well, you know what I mean—what would you be doing here in my car with me?”
I thought about that for a minute. It seemed to make sense. Even if Walter was fibbing about there being only the one room, it might be because he didn’t want to spend the extra money for separate rooms. And I really couldn’t blame him for that.
“Now, come on, honey. I’m dead tired and we want to get an early start tomorrow. The sooner we get going, the sooner we’ll be in Hollywood.�
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I slid out of the car and slowly followed him to the door of number twelve. I reminded myself that I had had plenty of experience dealing with men. If Walter tried anything funny I could always scream. And I’d tell him so. The last thing a Bible salesman would want would be to have a girl screaming that he was attacking her in a motel room.
Walter opened the door and turned on the light. It was a little room, with pine furniture and two beds with green plaid spreads. I was relieved to see the two beds and I guess Walter noticed that right away.
“See, honey? Now, if I had designs on you, would I ask for twin beds?”
“You said this was the only room they had,” I reminded him.
He looked sort of flustered for a minute. Then he cleared his throat and dropped his suitcase on one of the beds and my hatbox on the other. He walked to the bathroom and turned on the light.
“Nice and clean, isn’t it? Nothing fancy, but they keep it clean.”
I looked around. All there was in the room were the beds, a little chest of drawers with a mirror over it, and two lamp tables by the beds.
“Isn’t there a television?”
“No. No air conditioning either, but it’s cool now the sun’s gone down. We don’t really need the air conditioning at night.”
“But no television! What else is there to do?”
“You could read,” Walter said. “Or just take a shower and go to bed. That’s what I’m going to do. You’re probably tireder than you think.”
I was tired, but not sleepy. And I certainly wanted to take a shower, if there was a lock on the bathroom door. But nine o’clock was too early to go to bed.
“I don’t have anything to read,” I said. “And I don’t read much anyway.”
“Why don’t you take a shower and just cool yourself off and relax? You don’t realize how tired you are. This traveling takes a lot out of you.”
I sighed. What else was there to do but go to sleep? This was going to be some boring trip.
I unzipped my hatbox and pulled out my shampoo, cold cream, and my shortie pajamas. I remembered my flannel bathrobe, kicked under the bed back at the Tysons’, and realized that I was going to have to wear those shortie pajamas in front of Walter. I didn’t have a robe or anything to put over them. I never thought I’d need one again.
The only other thing I could think of was sleeping in my capri pants and striped shirt, but that wouldn’t work out very well. I mean, I had to travel in those pants, I couldn’t sleep in them too.
I didn’t know what to do. I figured the only thing I could hope for was that if I told Walter to turn his back while I made a run from the bathroom to the bed, he wouldn’t peek.
I went into the bathroom and checked right off that there was a lock on the door. I turned it, then got out of my clothes and unpinned my French twist. I shook my hair loose and ran my fingers through it, massaging my scalp. That’s a very important thing to do before every shampoo. It stimulates the scalp and encourages healthy hair growth.
I wiped off my old makeup with cold cream and toilet tissues and stepped into the shower. I just stood under it with my face up to the warm water and thought, I’m washing away sweat and grime and tiredness from six different states! There was a scratchy white washcloth and I scrubbed myself all over with it. The soap was just a thin little cake of Ivory. I wished it was Camay, like I usually use, but beggars can’t be choosers.
I shampooed my hair and rinsed it for a long time. That’s the secret of a good shampoo. It’s not how much lather you work up; the important thing is a good, thorough rinsing, to get all the traces of soap film off your hair. Most people don’t realize that, but if you want shiny hair, rinsing until you can hear your hair strands squeak is an absolute must.
I dried myself off with the skimpy bath towel hanging on a rack next to the shower, and wrapped the other one around my head like a turban. It would take forever for my hair to dry. I’d probably have to sleep with it wet, which I don’t like to do because my angel wings don’t wave right unless I comb them and let them dry in place.
I slipped on my pajama top and the frilly little panties that go with it and took a deep breath. I unlocked the door, and suddenly got a great inspiration.
“Walter?” I stuck my head out the door. He was sitting on the bed, taking off his shoes. “Walter, we left my dress all bunched up in the trunk of the car. Would you get it out? I have to hang it up or it’ll be a mess.”
He looked a little irritated. “I just got my shoes off, Venida. Can’t it wait till tomorrow?”
“It’s going to be ruined, Walter. Please, I have to wear it for my screen test. I have to put it on a hanger. You can leave the crinolines in there if you want, but I really need to hang that dress up.”
“Okay, okay,” he grumbled. He put his shoes back on and went out to the car.
I made a dash for the bed, threw the bedspread back, and leaped in. I heard the trunk slam just as I pulled the sheet up over me. There was one thin, green blanket on the bed and I pushed that back with the bedspread because it was warm enough to sleep with just the sheet.
Walter came back into the room and shut the door. I think he was a little startled to see me already in bed.
“Here’s your dress,” he said. “It looks pretty creased. I don’t know if just hanging it up is going to do much good.”
“Would you please put it on a hanger for me?” I asked. I wasn’t going to get out from under that sheet till the next morning.
“Okay.” He hung up the dress and sat back down on his bed, facing me. He took his shoes off again. “Feeling better now?”
“Oh, yes, much better. In fact, I think I’ll go to sleep. You’re right. I guess I was tireder than I realized.”
“You going to sleep with that towel on your head?”
“Oh, no, I forgot. I have to comb my hair out. Would you get me my pocketbook, please?”
Walter got my pocketbook from the top of the chest and handed it to me. He was staring at me, looking puzzled.
“What’s the matter?” I asked nervously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “You look—different. How old did you say you were?”
“Eighteen. Almost nineteen.” I think I said it too loudly though. Like I was lying—which I was—and was trying to make him believe me by shouting.
“Boy, I don’t know. You sure look different.”
I toweled my hair and started combing it out. “It’s the makeup,” I said quickly. “That’s why I look different. Because I washed all my makeup off.” That was true. I look much younger without my makeup. I should have thought of that before. But I couldn’t go for three or four days without ever washing my face, could I? That’s the surest way to ruin your skin, going to bed with old makeup on.
“I thought makeup was supposed to make you look younger, not older,” he said.
“It does for older women,” I said. “It works the other way for younger women.” I don’t know how I thought that up, right on the “spur of the moment” like that. I was just trying to come up with something that would make Walter less suspicious, but as it turned out, that was a very true thing I said. Makeup does work that way. I wonder if anyone else ever thought of that?
I parted my hair in the middle and combed the angel wings in place, doing the best I could without a mirror. I certainly didn’t want to get out of bed and stand in front of the dresser with Walter right there.
Before I realized it, the sheet had slid down so the top of my pajamas showed. I grabbed at it, to pull it back up over me, but Walter had already taken a good, long look.
“Yep,” he said thoughtfully. “I guess you’re eighteen all right.”
I didn’t like the tone of his voice at all. A little shiver went through me. I covered myself up again, but he was still standing there, staring, as if he could see right through the sheet. Or wished he could.
“Walter,” I said, trying to sound real cold and
firm, “if you come near me, I’ll scream. Good and loud. And you won’t sell a whole lot of Bibles around Buford, Kentucky.”
He seemed to snap back, like he was just coming out of a trance. “For heaven’s sake, Venida, you going to shoot me because I like looking at a pretty girl? You’re going to be a movie star. You better get used to men appreciating your—attributes.”
“Yes, well, you just better remember to appreciate my ‘attributes’ from a distance, Walter. And it’s Lauri, not Venida. Now I’m going to sleep, so please turn off the light.”
I spread the towel out on the pillow and lay back on it. I closed my eyes, even though I really wanted to keep them open so I could watch what Walter was doing.
He turned off the lamp next to my bed. He should have walked away then, but I didn’t hear him move. I opened my eyes. The bathroom light was still on, shining into the room and making a big rectangle on the floor.
Walter was standing over my bed, looking down at me. My heart began to thud, just like he was Uncle Ted and I was back on Robin Lane.
“Why are you looking at me like that? Why don’t you go take your shower and leave me alone?”
“I can’t help looking at you,” he said softly. “Ven—I mean, Lauri, you’re the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen. Don’t be so distrustful of me. I won’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you.”
He sounded so sincere, and so hurt, that I almost felt sorry for him. Maybe I was too distrusting. He was spending money on me, going all the way across the country and out of his way to help me, and I was acting sulky and snippy. He’d said all he wanted was my companionship, and what kind of a companion was I being?
He reached over and touched my cheek. I started to freeze up, but his hand was so gentle that I just breathed out a sigh of relief and closed my eyes. Then I felt his breath on my cheek, and his lips brushed against it for just an instant.
My eyes flew open, but he was already on his feet and walking toward the bathroom.
I closed my eyes again. The soft night air drifted in the open window, and soon the room was filled with a smell much sweeter than Camay soap.
To All My Fans, With Love, From Sylvie Page 8
